I KNEAD YOU | jhs ✦ m
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You have had your mind filled with indecent thoughts of your spin class trainer, Hoseok, ever since you started taking his classes. However discreet you thought your antics had been, Hoseok had somehow found out and was more than willing to fulfil your fantasies.
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Hoseok x Reader(f) | 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: smut, pwp? | 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: 18+ | 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7.3k
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: cunnilingus, fingering?, slight praising, ass play, he has his hand around her neck, unprotected sex (wrap it up guys~), slight edging, groping, biting, spanking, bathroom sex.
𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐚 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐛𝐲: my muse and soulmate @inkedxclouds as well as the amazing @meowxyoong (thank u loves <3333)
𝐚/𝐧: nothing to say other than I seem to like butts more than I thought,,,,, also victoria monét’s “ass like that” was the very inspo for this au, cause that song is a bop and for some reason it gave me hobi vibes + “juice” by lizzo (though I doubt the fic gives off that type of vibe but oh well) enjoy 🥺
Three months down the line and you’d think you would have developed somewhat of a sweat resistance by habitually working out. No, not at all. Still as sweaty as ever, but maybe now it was less about hard work, and more about hard want. You relax onto the closed toilet seat sighing deeply at your unfortunate situation. The changing room wasn’t safe and neither was the shared portion of the washroom.
At every and any small intermission you were offered during the heated class, you dashed towards the toilets letting your sweaty fingers hectically slip against the cold metal of the tap handles. The cold water slipping past your fingers as you tapped its remains on your skin, hoping to cool down or at least seem cool enough. But there’s only so much a little bit of cold water could do for your overheated body. As aware as you were about this, you made it a habit, involuntary of course, to let some of that desire out in the confinements of one of the bathroom stalls.
Today is no exception. You rush to the toilet, rugged breaths filling the air as you snap the flimsy lock shut, bending over to roll off your snug cycling shorts. You think back to Hoseok’s instructions : “You should always keep an eye on your breathing while doing vigorous exercise, you want to avoid back pain and strain on your blood vessels.” Back in class you almost let your thoughts tumble through your heaving mouth. “I don’t think exercise is the one doing that”.
As obedient as you are, you let deep puffs reverberate through your chest before diving in. Your hands, tired from clenching hard against the handle of the cycle to stay on it, tremble their way down your folds swinging with the same dynamic present in Hoseok’s glistening legs while he pedals. Your eyes flutter, blinding you from your surroundings, mind tumbling through all the imprinted images of your instructor you have stored in your mind.
That’s all you need. For now.
While you suck at cycling and picking up speed in that circumstance, the image of Hoseok’s huffing mouth, stable legs, and bouncing brown locks, drenched with his hard work, sticking to him the way you wanted him to stick to you, was more than enough for the tentative deep plunge of your fingers to rival the set speed record for your spin class.
Remember: deep breaths Y/N. You slow down, finger languidly straining against your walls. You hit a particular spot, staggering on the one leg touching the ground as your other hand anchors your edged form onto the whimsy bathroom stall walls.
The slow pace allows you to revel in the imagery of Hoseok’s long fingers pointed high in the air to countdown to your thirty second long spinning sprint, imagining those long digits plunged into the same heat your fingers are scissoring. He would know exactly what to do, ordering consecutive gushes of arousal out of you, the same way his fingers point towards your direction when he sees your energy falter.
With Hoseok, nothing but one hundred percent was acceptable. While you couldn’t always keep the promise of giving him just that in all of his classes, if he were to ask you, whether it be after class or somewhere in the lobby of the gym building, you would say yes to showing him where you excelled without fail.
Heart beating a firing rhythm you would snatch his trained fingers to some designated corner of the building, ready to get on your knees and stay there to take it all, the one posture you knew you could manage to keep without fail. Anything for Hoseok really.
Dripping fingers, drying cycling shorts clinging to your heated flesh, you croak out a moan, doing your best to quiet it down in the sleeve of your gym top. “Shit—” your hips buck into your erratic palm as you knead the sensitive flesh of your bud, hissing through clenched teeth.
“What the fuck are you doing to me, Hoseok,” the whispered whine travels to the small cracks of the bathroom stall, the sloppy sounds of your continued assault on your wetness bounce against the walls to fall upon the ears of the figure entering the toilet room.
“Hmmmm, fuck Hoseo—”
Your anticipated wave of pleasure catches your breath, stuttering breaths colouring the air with its warm essence. “Ahhhh,” you sigh into the sensation rippling through your bones, fisted hand sprawling itself across the cool wood of the bathroom stall door. A particular touch of your knuckles against your clit has your nails scratch against the material.
In the heat of the moment, eyelids heavy and ears focused on recalling the authority of Hoseok’s voice, you fail to register the footsteps that sound in the room. Footsteps that stall themselves during your explosive demonstration of your instructor’s effect on your body only to leave the toilet room after you’ve calmed down and said in a condescending yet satisfied tone, “How pathetic, masturbating to your instructor in the bathroom like some teenager. What the fuck is wrong with you?”
Puffing out what’s left of your pent up air, you drag your fingers from your settling walls, staring longingly at the wetness and wishing you could be looking at another pair of fingers glazed with your cum.
Hand hanging lazily by your side you do your best to lift your shorts back up to a correct position using your only available hand. You fiddle with the lock, slowly opening the door. You peek to see if there’s anyone there to whom you might reveal your latest conquest and only probe your head out of the stall when the coast feels clear.
As weak as legs might feel, you do your best to hurry up with the cleaning, washing the product of your forbidden fantasy down the drain just like the possibility of ever actually having the honour to let yourself be used by him in any way he sees fit.
Commanding words and strokes telling you exactly what he wants you to do for him, to give to him and you doing your absolute best to abide with clenched fists and a gagging mouth. You feel yourself fall down the rabbit hole, again, but you bring yourself back with a good shake of your head. You do not have another ten minutes to calm yourself down by attempting to fulfill your own lust.
You take one last look at the mirror to check that you do not look abnormally flustered before you leave to head back into the spinning room, face sweet and innocent, unlike the thoughts trying to invade your mind the moment your eyes focus on their inevitable target.
The hypnotising movement of his lips. Inviting and pink and shimmering from the quick swipe of his pointed lip against the surface. You sigh, in desperation, wishing for the presence of that muscle somewhere else. How pathetic of you, you think, almost releasing a single sobbing sound out of frustration. If only he knew.
You heave yourself into the cycle, fitting your tensed feet into the small caged armor of the pedal, unaware that Hoseok indeed knew and was very much ready to act on it.
His sudden constant and deliberate churning of your increasingly hot figure has you agitated, gaze meeting the floor. It is unusual for Hoseok to get off of his spin bike and personally assist you with your posture. Rather, he settled for quick commanding reminders that were shouted as enthusiastically as possible despite the sternness of his sweating face.
Yet for some reason, unbeknownst to you, he stops spinning and drags his taut slim legs all the way to where you like to stay at the back of the class, to personally adjust your swaying pelvis. “Engage your core. Squeeze your glutes.” He says, the order somehow managing to sound even louder than the blasting music. This is the first time he has touched you. You immediately stop spinning, hips swaying even more than before, chasing the inviting and rough heat of his short finger glove covered hands.
Your heart should have calmed down by the time he got back on his bike, but it doesn’t. You fail to admit to yourself that the coincidental eye contact you had with Hoseok in his classes, was more than enough to throw off your already fumbling posture.
If his wandering eyes are enough for you to follow their movement, accentuating each part that they laid on, his hands on your straining body is all you need to alleviate the ache of your muscles. You turn into a puddle, something that manifests itself right between your legs even before your body comes in contact with his.
“Okay guys, we have another half hour before we are done, so stay with me and there will be a sweet treat at the end,” Hoseok shouts out to the class, bursting your little thought bubble. Your eyes close as you nod, encouraging yourself to pull through, not for the sweet treat but for you. It’s the least you can do given how much you pay for these classes. But what a shame that your eyes are closed, unable to register the hungry and curious gaze Hoseok throws your way.
Twenty minutes have gone by, or maybe just ten? You feel so hot and disoriented from all the effort you’re putting in. Yawning, and trying your best to rid yourself of the final remains of sleep, you had theorised in your car that your goal for this class was to beat your old record, the one you had back when you came to class for the right reasons. Before the thought of riding Hoseok overtook your ambition to get fitter.
Calves burning, every muscle pushing itself to the verge of exhaustion, you think back to your breathing. Your mouth opens and closes as if you are giving birth, trying its best to collect all of the sweat ridden air needed to keep you going.
“Five minutes left. Keep going, you’re almost there!”
Your hanging head, that was focused on counting the sweat droplets falling from your face onto the shiny floor, shoots up to look at your instructor. It must be because of his job as a trainer and a coach that Hoseok flashes you his dashing smile the minute your eyes, gleaming with hope at the prospect of the class soon coming to an end, meets his own soft gaze.
Not wanting to seem rude or like a total nutjob, you tame your panting mouth into a simple smile, no teeth so as to not come across as too excited about something as infantile as eye contact. He winks in response and you swear you almost twist your ankle leaning forward to check if your eyes aren’t deceiving you.
Hoseok’s good at his job. He manages to keep your mind away from the propagating ache in your body as your legs chase time, looking to leave the room with your own small victory. He keeps you rooted and gives you the last bit of energy you need to make it. The timer beeps, startling you. You shake in your seat, breaking your contact with his warm brown eyes. If this is the power of his eyes, what the heck does his body have in store?
As much as you would want to let your mind wander to give you a probable hypothesis to the complicated case that is Hoseok, you’re too far gone to think that deep. Drained and sweaty, your arms dangle on your sides as you let your head lifelessly fall onto the bar of the spin bike. Too weak to push yourself back up but still wanting to know how far you cycled, you roll your drenched head onto the speed counter and stare down at it. At the sight of the double digit number, larger than the previous feat you had achieved, you sigh, a light laugh slipping past your dry lips. Finally some good news. As a way of congratulating yourself, you pat your thighs with the little force you have spared.
The surrounding claps invade your wandering ears, as people shout out, patting themselves in the back and congratulating others for pulling through. Nobody congratulates you but it’s nothing you haven’t had to handle before. Content with your progress, you step off the cycle.
You gather your items, hurrying as you feel the effects of gorging on too much liquid during class. With a drenched towel hanging of your forearm and an empty water bottle in your other hand you speed to the unisex toilet.
As you set your belongings on the sink countertop, someone enters. You don’t bother to spare them a glance, something you regret the minute Hoseok’s familiar tight fitting cycling top is reflected on the wide mirror. Your head instinctively looks his way to admire the soft slope of his nose and the harsh lines of his profile. He knows you’re looking to which he smirks softly. Your body shifts more to your right, afraid of what other things, sinful things, you might feel compelled to do if you stay so close to him.
You aggressively pump some soap into your palm, anything to remove the silence etched in the surrounding air. Hoseok does the same, except he does it graciously like everything else he’s ever done.
“Y/N, right?” He inquires, letting a steady stream of water wet his hands as he lathers them.
Your mind tells you he’s simply asking for formality’s sake. Did he plan to keep a conversation with you in the bathroom? How much could you possibly fit into the time it takes to wash your hands? Unless he plans on drawing it out and drying out his skin? Many more questions run through my mind as you bite your lips, eyes staring at the floor until they inevitably wander up his legs.
This is your verbal first interaction with him that doesn’t seem to hint at any subject related to your given roles in the establishment, a trainer and his trainee. No, he’s asking as Hoseok, curious to know about a certain regular Y/N who spends her free time thinking indecent thoughts about his body.
Realising that you’re taking too long to answer to your own name, you blurt out, “YES!” before clearing your throat in hopes to compose yourself. Swallowing thickly, you have another go at it, “I mean, yes, that’s my name. Y/N is me.”
While your ears warm up at your embarrassing behaviour, Hoseok’s soft chuckle manages to overpower the loud hand dryer. Usually, once someone’s done cleaning their hands they leave the bathroom and that’s exactly what you see Hoseok do. You watch him walk up to the toilet room door only to turn back around to face the mirror, doing your best not to let the dejected feeling in you overtake your features.
You breathe in, trying your best to catch your sanity. He was just being nice and trying to break the tension, one you seem to believe could only be perceived from your side. With eyes closed, you let the cool rush of the water provide some sort of relaxation and solution to your heated body. Your dripping hands reach towards the hand dryer on your side only to reach back when you think about the hot air, you don't need to get fired up again, so you decide to pat yourself dry with paper towels.
Ready to leave, you look up into the mirror to take one last inspection at your face.
Oh.
Hoseok’s eyes catch your own. He’s leaning against the toilet’s room door frame, head slightly hanging to his side and tongue dancing calmly in the small intrusion between his lips. You thought he left?
You want to look away, but you can’t. Not only because of the demanding energy coating his eyes, but also because of the entrancing way he runs a hand past his hair, heel kicking against the door as he pushes himself off of it.
He darts towards you. Or at least that’s what it feels like to you. An overwhelming wave of desire coats your senses forcing your legs to stagger backwards as your butt comes in contact with the hard and cold edge of the sink counter.
Those hands, those fingers, the ones you’ve fantasied about having buried inside of you or stuffed in your mouth, find their way on each side of you anchoring themselves on the hard surface as Hoseok corners.
He’s close. Close enough to hear your shallow breathing, to notice your confused yet intrigued eyes and to smell the fertilised desperation in your body. Head somewhat leaned down so as to reach your gaze, he lets his eyes take their own free tour around your face, mouth slightly parted.
“I don’t think it’s pathetic at all,” he breathes out, sloping down to bathe your hot ears in his warm breath, “it’s cute, actually.” The sweet tone is almost enough to deceive you of his intentions but the prominent scraping of his teeth against your earlobe makes it clear.
Your chest curls into itself at the action, slipping down, out of reach from his inviting mouth. You want to think it’s a coincidence that Hoseok references your words from earlier but to simply think isn’t enough, you need to confirm it. “Uhmm… I don’t kn–ow what you’re referring to.” It comes out more jagged than you intended to as he steps closer, so as to almost graze your heaving chest.
A pout on his lips, his gaze zig zags across your features, “See, cute.”
You feel like you’re melting. Your face finds refuge in the minor protection of your shoulder as you squeeze your eyes shut. This is all you had thought about. To have Hoseok look at you as if he already knew what is obscured from his sigh, for now, a sight he couldn’t wait to explore. To let his eyes, hands and mouth colour his imagination into reality.
“I mean that it would be nice if I could show you what I can actually do to you.” If you were properly breathing before you sure you aren’t anymore. His voice is covered with sweetness and curiosity. It acts as both a gentle threat and a request. He could and would show you.
The rub of your knee against his thinly clothed thigh says yes before you manage to catch enough air to utter an eager “please”, eyes opening to stare at his chest. “Go ahead,” at the sight of your yearning eyes he encourages you. The thin elastic material did little to protect your sanity from the hardness of his body.
Had your eyes been closed, you could have been fooled into believing that you were touching his naked chest. You pinch the material, tugging it off his skin only to let it slap back down. Something that brings a soft smile to Hoseok’s shifting lips. Hoping that he understands your wordless request, you repeat the action a couple more times.
He dodges your eyes more than once, letting his playful side show, before he leans into you. Your lips collide, strong enough to have your head inclined against the mirror, your body moving upwards at every hungry push of his determined body. You latch onto him, hands lacing themselves around his straining biceps as you match the feverish dance of his tongue.
If your moaning wasn’t already evidence enough of your state, Hoseok’s willingness to offer more encourages him to run a slow swipe of his delicate hands up your thigh and dangerously close to where you’ve imagined him placing every class that you’ve attended. The touch is prominent enough to have you squirming, letting whiny moans spill into his smirking lips as your legs bring him closer.
But Hoseok’s gentle yet clear tapping of your thighs tells you he has something else in mind. “Stand back up.” The order is clear yet in your current hazy state, you slide off the counter anticipating your weak landing, something Hoseok takes care of by pushing you flush against him.
Following through, he presses his long fingers in the soft flesh of your ass, spreading your cycling shorts covered cheeks all while pushing you closer to his straining cock. Spread out, head shying away from looking at his face, he leans in with a soft whisper, “Now tell me, kitty, how did you get an ass like this?”
Timid hands roam across his hard frame as your intended whisper becomes a rushing gasp, pulled out from you by Hoseok’s prominent kneading of your ass, “You.”
“What did you say, sweetheart?”
Hesitant, and quite frankly too hot to think straight, you let it all spill out.
“It’s because of you. You gave me an ass like this.”
“Huh, you think so?” His stretched palm travels up and down your clothed cheeks. You don’t respond letting the steady stream of strained moans be an answer in itself. “So you’re saying, my classes gave you this juicy ass,” He hisses out, firmly squeezing the jiggly flesh.
You nod your head against his shoulder, humming in agreement, the cadence at which the soft moans escape intensifying. Moans that you attempt disguise by biting into his cycling jersey.
“Don’t you think I should get to enjoy what I created?” The implications of his question makes your breath hitch.
What is he thinking of doing. Anal? Eating your ass? Spanking? Your mind is in haywire but you know what you think.
“You can do anything you want.”
“Anything?”
You nod once again, hardened buds tickling his covered chest. All Hoseok does is smirk at your eagerness.
“Not today, kitty,” he pushes lightly against your breasts, making your shiver at the friction, turning you around with a swift hand as he shakes his head, “I like it from the back.”
You’re now facing the mirror, able to notice the distraught state of your body as your desperation creeps further into your limbs. Hoseok finds himself caging you in again, but while you could have hid your warming face in his chest before, now you’re completely exposed.It’s something that brings a playful expression to his features.
As if he wasn’t already close enough to you, Hoseok drives his eager hips into the heated plumpness of your butt and your fingers tense further around the edge of the countertop. Every hitching breath of yours is complemented with his groans.
“What a beautiful ass I’ve made,” he says, pride in his voice as he crouches down behind you to give each cheek its own shameless squeeze. “Don’t you agree?”
“Hmm,” you hum breathlessly before a pointed strike to your cheek makes it clear that that’s not how he wants you to respond. Nodding, head straining backwards to catch Hoseok’s dark gaze, your knees buckle driving your ass closer to his face while you whine out a stuttering yes.
Hoseok’s your trainer. He knows how breathing works during physical activities and makes it known that, whether or not you’re in class, he rules still apply. It’s soft, yet commanding whispers to not forget to breathe or he will stop, tingling confessions that let his appetite for your body infest your nerves as you delve deeper into despair. You want his cock inside of you and, unlike your willingness to wait, his patience is much greater.
The continuous sway of hips quickens his breaths, and they land on your shoulder where they leave shivers that travel down your spine forcing you to shimmy your ass into his crotch even harder. “Come on, kitty, patience.” He breathes out, biting your scalding shoulder.
“Nghh, but plea—,” the hard slap that lands on your misbehaving cheeks has you stiffening, hands slipping against the glass. At this point you’re sure you’re not going to sit down on your train ride back home. Hoseok seems to want to leave you sore and marked.
“I said patience. I will give you what you need when I want to.” You nod lazily, not that your mind registers the sentence, but the alarming tone has you on your best behaviour.
Your compliant action earns you a few sloppy kisses along your covered shoulders, his hands snaking upwards to catch the zipper and let it slide down as you bend, body yearning for his touch until his determined hands engulf your freed and neglected mounds.
“Hmmm, just as soft and juicy as your ass.” He moans loud and clear and you fear someone outside might hear. Yet it still makes you melt onto his hard body. “Hose—yes, like that, ahhhh.”
Hoseok, given his position, does like orders, something he lets you know by running his fingers around your perked buds and squeezing them so hard you screech and bend even deeper. Fuck. As much as it hurts it also feels so good; your watering folds are proof enough.
“I don’t like to repeat myself, Y/N. Misbehave and I’ll keep drawing this out, leaving you wet and begging for me.” His tone is calculated and laced with a certain layer of pity that has you whining as you place one hand on his forearms to turn around and meet his eyes.
You witness the slowed blinking of his eyelids and hope that he can decipher your distressed eyes that ask for more. While Hoseok cares for his trainees, he likes to push them to see how far they can go. That’s what the smirk creeping up on his lips tells you.
“All in due time, kitty. First, let me taste something that I want to make mine.” One confident hand pats your dripping pussy to further awaken your sensitive nerve endings. Your thighs instinctively snap shut capturing his hand. Hoseok catches your eyes in the mirror, shaking his head before delivering another strike to your ass.
“Ahhh, shit,” you bite your quivering lips and let your hesitant thighs part to welcome the sweet slide of Hoseok’s fingers past your clothed folds as he hums in approval at the present wetness. “Just how I like it.” The praise compels a soft smile on your end.
You can’t hide the confusion that coats your features when he suddenly extracts his hand, something that has him snickering to himself. He enjoys torturing you and you want to complain but you don’t think your ass could handle anymore pain so you suck up your remarks along with some air.
Your head dances around, left to right and back again trying to figure out what exactly he plans to do as he crouches back down to face your butt. Before you can enquire in order to save yourself from any surprise attacks, he dives his head into the expanse of your globes shaking it as you squeal trying your best not to lose your stance.
He hums deeply, breathing in your scent and you whimper once his wet tongue pokes out to slide along your pussy lips, his saliva mixing in with your oozing arousal. His arms snake around your thighs, fingers digging into the flesh to push you further against his face. “Fuck, your kitty is dripping for me.” You manage to hear the muffled sound above the blend of his groans and your stumbling moans. But for once Hoseok doesn’t abide by his own rules as his hands rush to the hem of your cycling shorts, wanting nothing more than to rip them apart, to have you bare as to allow him to witness your clenching pussy– soon to be his pussy.
Exposed and wet, ready for him since the day you laid eyes on him, you stare down at his soft brown locks, where your hands will find refuge in shortly, and try your best to examine his eager expression through hooded eyes. He has your right leg up on his shoulder and you let the rhythm of his stroking hand guide your breaths. “So fucking pretty,” his other hand travels up your other thigh, “and wet,” he bites his lips leaning into your drenched center, “and mine.”
It’s only one lick but you already feel like falling apart, hands squeaking against the mirror. “Ahhh shit,” your hips move on their own accord, meeting his hot appendage and coating it with your increasing neediness. Either Hoseok doesn’t mind or your eagerness, looking to satisfy your own urge, doesn’t register in his mind as all that’s there is the goal to have you trembling and gushing all over his hungry mouth.
For each lap at your folds, he takes a breath away. Your fingers find the courage to place themselves on his head, soft hair left to be scrunched in your clenched fist. His head moves vigorously up and down, drinking up your juices under feverish groans and needy hands that latch on the cheeks of your ass to keep you from staggering away.
His tongue drives your pants, saturating your cunt with pointed licks coupled with soft nibbles at your throbbing clit, an action that has you quivering in surprise. “So fucking sweet,” he drags out the suckling of your vulva as he hums, satisfaction clear on his face as his tongue slides across his bottom lips. You mewl, hips bucking into the empty air. He plants a soft kiss on your heat, “Just for me. How cute.”
“Hoseok, please,” your strained plea runs from your lips without much thought to meet his mocking pout. You’re so close, you just need him to keep lapping at your soaked entrance, feasting on your juices and you would come undone before you know it.
However Hoseok seems to have other plans in mind as he stands back up, the straining in his pants all the more noticeable in his tight shorts. He leans in to kiss your neck, holding your behind flush against his cock. “Unfortunately, I can’t eat you out until you fall apart. We wouldn’t want anyone to come open the door, now would we?”
Your want has made you forget your predicament. You’re in the bathroom of your gym, ready to have the trainer you’ve been daydreaming about rail your neediness away. He made sure to lock the door but someone could soon start asking questions, looking for staff to complain to. Staff who would surely hurry to unlock the door, after all client satisfaction is important. Something that Hoseok is very aware of.
You shake your head as his husk approval meets your slick ear, “Good kitty.” He bites the shell of your ear, scraping against the heating flesh, “Now spread your legs for me.” You shuffle your feet side to side following his orders, legs too heavy to lift. “You’re doing so good for me,” he says, hoping to reassure you as his hands leave your body and you watch him, in the mirror, slide his pants down to expose his erect and flushed cock.
You almost turn around on instinct, one based on your countless dreams of having him in your mouth, weighing down your tongue. But you stay put, resorting to ogling his long and pretty dick. Hoseok doesn’t seem to mind as his hand goes to stroke lazily at the throbbing length while continuing to keep his distance from you.
His eyes lock with yours and you whimper because you know exactly what you could do to that dick of his if he’d just let you. However, he’s adamant on having his way with you. Maybe another time? Maybe. You close your eyes to let the sour thought of this being a one time occasion wash away and let Hoseok’s touch bring you back to the moment at hand.
His hand digs into the flesh of your hips and your needy heat clenches around empty air at the sweet and slow slide of the fleshy and precum glazed tip of his cock. Hoseok’s likes to drink up your reactions, staring into the mirror to admire your furrowed brows, your open mouth and your squeezed eyelids as he continues to run his pulsating member up and down your slit. He slips up, his enthusiasm getting the best of him as the tip grazes your clit and you bite into your clenched fist, your moan still managing to seep through.
Hoseok’s chest leans into your back as he places one of his hands above yours. He orders your gaze to meet his, the other hand hiding between your bodies to position himself at your entrance.
“This is gonna be just like our sprints in class. Are you ready, kitty?”
You munch on your wet lip, and repeat, through your panting mess, the only the only two words that seem to be in your mind, “Hoseok plea—ahhh”
His hard cock eases into your needy walls, slowly filling you up as his other hand moves back to restrain your only free hand. Chest against back, hands weighing on yours, and forehead bent down against your shoulder, he bottoms out and you release a combined sigh. You shut eyes spring open to stare at the delightful connection between your edged bodies. You can’t comprehend the situation, nor do you try to. This is really happening, huh?
It feels too good. Too good to be true and too good for your practically spasming pussy. Hoseok’s calm approach is short-lived, his second thrust as frantic as your breaths. The force at which he moves inside your slick walls, force strong enough to have the edge of the sink countertop dig against your stomach.
Your hand reaches back to hold onto his shoulder, trying your best to stay stable as each continuous attack of his hips sounds against your tender ass. Hoseok drags his dick out, making you moan and pant so much you’re clouding the mirror. He eagerly snaps back against your straining tightness, bottoming out as he puffs out laboured breaths and you gasp into your trembling shoulder. “Yes, yes, right there,” you sigh in between ragged breaths
He delivers another pointed thrust, pumping himself deeper into your warmth, “Here?” He breathes out and you nod hastily.
You can feel the short yet intense slap of his balls against your ass, the thrill of it all making you bend to spread your legs even further apart. Your face only centimeters away from the cold, metal tap, you shriek feeling the weight of Hoseok’s imprints on the small of your back as he pounds your sopping pussy. “Shit, all of this for me?” He pants, delivering his beloved strikes on the ass he’s made.
With your current limited vocabulary all you can do is nod, head bracing itself in the crook of your arm. Chasing your own pleasure, all while melting on the wonder that’s Hoseok’s cock, you move your hips to meet the now frantic pummelling of his straining dick.
One of his hands migrates to surround the soft and tender flesh of your neck as he pulls you up to reveal your fucked out gaze. “So fucking pretty.” He suckles the skin of your neck, biting into it to suppress his own moans. You wrap your hand around his forearm, chanting your go-to high-pitched request once again, this time managing to add one more word, “Hoseok, please, harder.”
Your heart is about to leap out of your chest at sight of the soft gaze he throws under heavy eyelids. “Anything for you, kitty.” And he gives you just that. He pumps in and out, hard, hand still around your neck, more so as a sweet gesture to help your head stay put as he admires his work. His other arm pushing you flush against his body, mushing your ass cheeks against his crotch. A feeling he welcomes with a low hiss.
Hoseok’s dick pulsates against your walls, as they suck him deeper, his length allowing him to graze spots in you nobody has touched before. The quick and pointed hammering makes your breath stutter. You’re so close, you think, but fail to communicate, mouth unable to form any coherent sounds apart from heavy moans and whines.
You spare a glance in Hoseok’s direction, to see his head nested in the crook of your neck, eyes shut and his cheeks puff out for every passionate thrust he delivers. Warmth, not the kind that comes from your current vigorous activity, but the one that’s born out of hope for more, overtakes you only this time you have no wish to dispel it.
Your free hand meets your sensitive bud, rubbing circles as his cock continues to make a mess of you. He must have felt the soft graze of your fingertips against his hot girth as his hands move to meet yours. He slides his fingers past your slick coating fingers that are soon placed back on your clit. Digits dancing around each other, your chest stutters into the bliss, back morphing into the bend of his chest. “Oh,Hos– ahhh, I’m clo–se.”
Hoseok finds the sounds that leave you endearing, a smile stretching along his lips. “Go on kitty, let my pussy cum all over me.” You shut your eyes, lips pressed against each other, glutes clenched to Hoseok’s striking approval, letting your pent up and often castoff desire for a certain man with a blinding smile, and inspiring ethic rush over your limbs, choked moans leaving your once sealed lips.
He thrusts on every breath intake, adamant on literally taking your breath away as his own unraveling follows shortly. Even in this state of frenzy, he manages, ever the professional and hard worker, to land his last thrusts just where he wants them. Deep within you, before he snatches his hypnotising member away from your ever yearning heat to decorate your back with a fat load, as he grunts out, “Ugh, hmph–mine.”
Strikes of white cum hit you as you sigh, trying your best to regulate your breathing all while hitting your face to convince yourself of the reality of the situation. You just fucked your trainer. The one you’ve been fantasising about for the past three months. You try to find some sort of guilt, looking to appease your mind and assure yourself that nothing bad will come out of this.
You’ll still be able to attend your lessons each week, sitting down at your same spot, staring ahead at him indifferently as he manages to not even break a sweat during his excruciating classes. You tell yourself that you’re sure everything will go back to normal once the two of you step outside the sex stenched toilet room. Everything will be just fine. You almost believe it, until you’re brought back to the present moment, as he swipes a cool water drenched paper towel against your ruined slit. Yeah, this is bad.
Mixing fantasies, longing stares and care can only lead to one possible thing. A bus you doubt he would jump on if it were to show up at his door steps. You scramble to retrieve the towel and proceed to clean yourself. Hoseok jumps at your less than gentle action, but decides not to give it much thought, unlike you.
“Thanks,” you attempt to lessen your rude behaviour. He gives you a lopsided smile, winking away your weakly established reassurance that you’ll manage not to think about this encounter from a point of view that’s filled with craving feelings and expectations.
“That was nice.”
You fail to suppress the laughter that’s screaming to be released, to see him flustered has you smiling, nodding reassuringly at his statement.
“Very nice, indeed,” you respond, throwing away the towel as you join Hoseok in putting your cycling shorts back on and closing the zipper of your cycling jersey.
Your eyes travel across the room to make sure that nothing is terribly out of place or different before your hands stroke down your front while you stare at the now silent man. You wait, expecting him to say something, wanting him to. When he doesn’t seem to have it in his plans to speak again, you turn around to walk towards the key he left in the lockset of the door.
A loud cough sounds behind you and you snap around, eyes eagerly staring at him to notice the full blown smile on his glowing face, making your heart skip.
His fingers gestures towards his back and once he notices your confused expression, he articulates his concern with a small laugh and scratch to his neck, “Uhm, you kinda forgot the back, my…. yeah, is still there”
“Oh,” you turn around to look at your back through the mirror. The sight alone of his cum has your mouth watering and legs clenching, something that doesn’t go unnoticed to Hoseok’s focused eyes. Just the reassurance he needed to feel like you weren’t completely regretting what just happened. “Right.” You sidestep him to reach for some more paper towels, hands trying their best to clean it up only to end up smearing it even more.
Hoseok’s hand reaches out. “May I?” Sighing you nod, discarding the ruined towels in the bin.
On second thought, you should have said no and struggled through the clean up on your own. The soft press of his digits against your back ignites your skin and pulls you back to the not so distant events in your mind. Your sharp breath intakes at each touch from his body further aids Hoseok in building back his confidence.
You definitely liked him, or at least your body did. He thinks and he would definitely not mind a repeat, preferably somewhere where he did not need to worry about time or intruders and where he could knead your ass to his heart’s content.
Once done, you step away, this time thoroughly cleaned and ready to leave. You turn back to follow your previous path, hand clenched around the key refusing to unlock the door as you await another interjection from his part. To unlock the door means this is finally over and as much as you might not believe this to be your best decision, you still want to bask in the awkward sweetness of the aftermath, just for a few more seconds. But Hoseok stays silent this time.
Your hand weights down on the handle, pushing it towards you. Sighing, you are brought back to reality as you stare at the bypassers outside of the toilet room. Your hand releases the handle, walking out and heading towards the changing rooms.
Your steps are slow, ready to halt upon his request. Yet, all your ears can hear is the shuffling of hurried feet and the sound of other classes taking place. Soon enough, you’re walking slow out of dejection rather than apprehension.
“Hey! Y/N!” Your skin shivers at the timbre of the familiar voice and you walk faster to stop a bit further away. You don’t want him to think that you were waiting for him.
Your body whips around, using the little resolve you have left to mask your delight at the sight of him.
“I’ll see you next week,” it comes out as a blend between a question and an affirmation and you can see in his eyes that he needs you to clarify the nature of his statement for him. To let him know there could in fact be more than today.
“I’ll see you next week, Hoseok.” You smile sheepishly as you turn around to scurry towards your intended destination, squealing into the palms of your hands. Hands that had touched him and had been caressed by him. Ultimately, hands that couldn’t wait to knead him the way he kneaded you.
Posted: July 16 2020
a/n: feel free to share any feedback, it’s always deeply appreciated 🥺