"Y/n," he hisses. "stop."
A mischievous smile only flickers across your lips as you fingers trail farther up along his thigh. Sure, the train is almost kind of empty, especially this late at night, but the sleeping man across from you and the woman utterly engrossed her newspaper in the corner seat pose a threat of noticing. And you dear, low risk boyfriend has already made it clear that he isn't taking any chances.
Your fingernails scrape across the surface of his denim jeans, slightly above his knee, and earn a low growl in warning. You can already see how your efforts are paying off, judging from the noticeable area underneath the hem of his pants. It seems to scream at you, to rake arousal down your frame at the fact that your touch gets Hoseok worked up so quickly, so easily. He has never been strong enough to resist your teasing, and instead takes the liking of putty within your skillful hands.
"Admit it," you whisper, lips hovering by his neck and has him stiffening slightly beside you. "You like that we're in public, don't you? It turns you on."
He grits his teeth, his usually charming eyes directed sternly away from yours. You can see the hints of a lovely rose blush beginning to dust his cheeks, and entirely feel satisfied. His breath hitches slightly when your hand creeps up dangerously high along his thigh, working to deepen the shade of flush currently holding his face captive.
"What a dirty boy."
The words leave your lips in a grating whisper, teeth nipping tauntingly at the skin under his jaw for the briefest second before you're pulling away. You watch, with a smile, how he swallows thickly, flushes deeper, blinks harder when your hand slides higher to meet its destination.
Then, you're squeezing, delightfully, painfully hard, and sends his head tilting backwards with a low groan, exposing the enticing skin of his neck.
"Y/n, please," he breathes quietly, should any distant gazes from others stray to you two. Your lips take the chance to press kisses along his neck, sometimes adding a swipe of your tongue or a nip of your teeth just to hear his breathing grow ragged.
"Please what, baby?" You hum, now palming him generously through the dense material of his jeans. He has to clamp his hands onto the edge of the seat so as to not so obviously buck into your sinful touch. "Do you want me to stop?"
You're already retracting your hand away at the words, but his own suddenly shoots out to hold your wrist in place.
His eyes are shy in meeting yours. "No, please, keep going. Give me more."
Your eyes bore into his, with the hints of a smile crossing your lips when his eyes flit away. "Alright."
His eyelids flutter when your hands return to his jeans, palming generously to have his head tilting back once again. You silently marvel at the way his lips part and subtle pleasure consumes his handsome face, at how you can so easily work him over the edge with your simple touch.
Your teeth meet your lip when a low groan is released from the base of his throat. You want to see more of him falling apart beside you, because of you, so sinfully and mischievously tucked away from the gazes of unknowing people. Your fingers don't hesitate in unzipping the material of his jeans and disappear inside.
"Fuck," he hisses in a sharp whisper, when your hand slips past his boxers and grasp his hard member, hot and erect in your grip. His eyelids clamp shut, jaw clenches when you squeeze him experimentally.
"You should be a little quieter," you say, words filled with playful warning in the midst of your satisfaction in seeing him unraveling this way. He fights hard to process them when your hand squeezes the base of his cock again, then slides up to swipe your thumb across the tip. Heat has deepened the shade of pink across his cheeks, that curls even more satisfaction inside you.
