I bet hyuka has very soft thighs. Just thought you should know what's going through my head rn
-yh
omg……. yeah </3 soft and plush and nice to touch and sit on. maybe you’re obsessed with his thighs, always touching them in some way, and maybe kai just doesn’t understand why you like them so much. they’re just parts of his legs after all and he thinks there are much better parts of him to obsess over, but he really can’t complain too much when you rest your hand on his thigh, fingers squeezing soft (though, as a reminder that you’re there or as an effort to tease, he’s never sure), or when you rest your head in his lap on your weekend movie nights, your cheek pressed tight against his bare skin, your breath hot against him, one hand resting there like usual, kneading the space just above his knee. he doesn’t understand your love for his thighs, but it makes him go soft and gooey on the inside, like a chocolate chip cookie fresh out of the oven, so he never really complains about you being the cutest person he’s ever met.
smut under the cut mdni !!
but there are days when he does understand because you worship them like they’re your patron saint, a deity that has called on you to make your blessings to them. because you settle yourself on one while he’s sitting on the couch or in bed or at his desk playing video games, your knees bracketing on either side of his thigh, your arms pressed tight around him as you move on your own, hips stuttering and knees aching as you try to chase a high that is so elusive without some kind of involvement from kai. you pant hot and heavy into his ear, whimpers barely contained behind lip bites, and he swears he tries so hard to keep his composure (he told you he wasn’t in the mood, but that you could do whatever you needed to get off, prompting this whole thing). but your high, tight pleases and the growing patch of your arousal on his pant leg are hard to ignore. a final tearful “please kai, need your help” has him immediately throwing whatever had his attention previously to the side so that he can wrap his arms around you, tense his muscles under you, give you those saccharine sweet words to push you over the precipice you’ve been wavering on for minutes. you always fall apart in his arms, crying hot tears of frustration and stuttering through mumbles of thanks as you come down, all while he calls you his sweet baby, his good baby, tells you that you did so well and he’ll reward you later when he’s in the mood because you deserve something nice.
yeah, some days he does get your fanaticism for his thighs.