venus

even though he left after you, he makes it to his apartment without word that you’re there yet. he needed to tidy up anyway, so it worked out perfectly. he sees your car pull in after a few minutes, but he waits until you’re at the door instead of going outside to meet you. not that he has anything to hide because he’s single, but there’s something weird about you both being out together in broad daylight.

when he opens the door and lets you in, your freshly applied perfume his him more than usual. that signature scent already had him wrapped around your finger, but it’s never that strong. he’s already getting distracted.

he helps you take off your coat, laying it on the couch as you watch him closely. his eyes meet yours cautiously, “what’s on your mind?” he asks, a bit awkward.

“you,” you murmur offhandedly, and he blushes a little bit, even if he expected the answer, “what about you? what’s on your mind, wonwoo?”

he can’t help wanting to be closer, so he takes a couple steps so that your bodies are pressed up to each other, still some room to breath but it’s dwindling. he holds you by the waist as he says his answer, looking down at nothing in particular, “you as well.”

“yeah? what about me?” you ask, resting your hands on his shoulders neutrally, almost like you don’t know what you want to do with them yet.

“your perfume,” he answers, inhaling right after. you can feel him shudder on the exhale like it’s the most erotic turn-on ever. even just smelling that scent has him hard. he probably shouldn’t even tell you for fear that you’ll use this power against him, but he’s not thinking too rationally, “your lips, your…” he doesn’t finish talking, instead giving into the burning urge to kiss you.

once the kiss starts getting intense, he pulls away to take his glasses off, setting them on the counter before going back for more with twice the energy and passion. wonwoo has never been this intense, and it leaves you wondering how strung up you must have got him.

you instinctively move your hands to his hair, your fingers running through it wildly as you kiss him; it’s not as much fun as leaving him to look like a wild mess while still clocked in, but he looks in the blurry reflection of the tv and his hair is already going in like five different directions. he can’t stop this.

you pull away to look at him, and he opens his eyes to look back, “what’s wrong?” he asks.

“nothing, it’s just…” your thumb brushes his cheek soothingly, but he wonders if you do it to self-soothe too, “are we sure we want to do this?”

“can i be honest with you?” he asks, knowing you’ll say yes but still asking permission. you nod, and so he continues, “i have never been more sure of something in my life. i need you so much, baby,” his words at the end sound like a whine, almost like a cry for help, “i need you so, so bad,” he repeats.

“shh,” you whisper in his ear as you guide his head down to rest on your shoulder, “i’ll take such good care of you, good care of us,” your hands rub down his back, sliding into his pockets as you two hold each other, “haven’t i all this time?”

“yes, of course you have,” he murmurs, playing with the hem of your shirt, lowering his voice even more to say one last, “i need you.”

“where’s your bedroom, baby?” you say, and he lifts his head up to look, pointing before grabbing your hand and pulling you towards it.

you shut the door as you both enter, “what do you want, baby? what can i do for you?” you ask, pulling him closer, brushing his hair out of his eyes. he’s so charmingly soft in everything he is and does.

“can you take off your shirt?” he asks awkwardly, cringing at his own his words after he hears them too. he wouldn’t be this inept if he wasn’t so enamored with you.

“do you want to take it off me?” you ask him so sweetly. his hands shake involuntarily as he undoes each and every button, so slowly but it’s so sweet and intimate and he’s so pretty when he’s focused. he pulls it back and down your shoulders, laying it out nicely on a chair so it doesn’t get wrinkled; such a sweetie he is, “your turn, baby. you gotta take your shirt off, too. don’t be shy.”

he’s not really shy, but when he takes it off, he’s hyper-focused on your reaction. he notices the way your gaze changes, but you suddenly look hungrier; like you could eat him alive. it’s kinda hot, he’ll admit. you come closer to him with hands roaming all over his chest and abs and neck and he thinks he could faint if he doesn’t keep a grip on himself.

“you want me to touch you properly, don’t you, baby?” you ask, his whine more than enough of a response, “just say please, angel. i know exactly what you want. just say it, gotta hear you say it.”

“please,” he groans, your hand feeling him up over his slacks before unbuckling his belt and helping him shrug them off. you pull at the waistband of his underwear before reaching your hand underneath them. he moans so pretty with your hand on him, finally helping him instead of just teasing.

but you’re a tease at heart, so of course your lips still find his neck, still kiss and bite and leave bruises wherever they traverse while your hand works his underwear down just enough to let his cock out, getting him worked up and ready for what’s about to happen.

he notices the mirror on his wall. even if he can’t see perfectly, he looks so wrecked already. something about his messed up hair gives him away, not to mention his cheeks are bright red and he’s moaning like he’s in heat already. so desperate in just a few minutes.

you’re not much different, already so riled up from working him up and the amount to which just watching him turns you on is incredible. he’s a sight to behold for sure, but maybe that’s not the intended way. he’s still so fuckable regardless.

—

you both stop when you hear a noise.

his doorbell.

“oh my god it’s the fucking pizza i ordered,” you groan, “give me a t-shirt real quick.” he searches around for the closest one, tossing it to you as soon as he finds one. it’s one of his favorites, and the way it looks on you in the 2 seconds he got to see before you ran out of his bedroom has him dizzy. it’s oversized on him anyway, so it’s not like there’s much a difference in fit, but it’s just something about you wearing something of his.

he sits on his bed with his underwear at his feet, dick out and everything because he’s assuming you’ll just resume when you get back. he catches another glance at himself in the mirror, marveling at the various healing and recently forming brusies on his neck and chest while he faintly hears your voice in the background talking to some guy.

the second he feels a semblance of jealously in his heart, he knows he’s fucked before you even get back.

—

“i’m sorry, babe,” you murmur, slowly shutting his bedroom door, “i left the box on the table whenever we’re ready for it. sorry for the interruption.”

“don’t be sorry,” he whispers back, pulling you by the arm closer to him, holding you close. his sudden clinginess is startling, but not unwelcome, “you look so pretty.”

you get on the bed with him, sitting in his lap, feeling his hardness underneath you, “it’s the shirt, isn’t it?” you ask, like you could read his mind. his face makes you giggle, “you wanted to be exclusive even when we weren’t fucking. you’re possessive, baby, it’s okay.”

“i can’t help it,” he groans as you grind against him, teasing in the best way possible, “i like you too much. couldn’t stand the thought of someone else having you.”

“so i caved and gave you what you wanted. aren’t i so nice?” you say as you move off him, his eyes watching you hungrily while you undress, “with no one to fuck for months on end, guess i became a little irrational. you’ll fix that problem for me, won’t you?”

“i’ll do whatever you want me to,” he murmurs as you fall back into his arms, naked just as he is. he falls back against the bed, taking you with him.

you kiss his collarbone, using the tip of your finger to write out your initials on his shoulder. a little mark of you that only his body will remember, “my pussy is tired of waiting for you, baby.”

that’s his cue to get on with it; enough teasing each other. he notices how wet you are at this point. you really weren’t lying. it makes him smile when he feels it between his fingers. he can feel impatience radiating off of you, and he doesn’t have the self control to do anything but exactly what you want.

his cock slides in easily but still a little snugly, and he waits a second before rocking his hips up. the angle is somewhat awkward, but you look like you’re having a good time so he’ll deal with it. he’s strong enough.

you keep pressing kisses to his neck, but they’re much less controlled and a bit sloppy now. you keep whispering into his ear, praises that he loves or dirty talk that makes him blush, “such a good boy. always treating me so good. so good to me.”

his breaths are shaky as he gets closer. it’s so obvious he’s getting close, but he tries to hold back because he’ll get flustered if you’re not even halfway there yet, which he assumes you’re not.

“baby,” he says to get your attention. it feels like a whimper and a cry for help, “i can’t hold back much longer. you feel so good- oh my god,” his facial expressions say it all, “please don’t be upset.”

“that’s okay, you can cum.”

“i’ll make you feel so good after, i promise- i’ll-” his eyes shut as his sentence cuts off suddenly. you can feel his body tense up, all his muscles and all at once. you continue moving your hips as his movements still, helping him ride out the orgasm a little bit. he holds his breath for a few seconds before breathing incredibly heavy like he was just working out. you swear his never held your hips this tight in your entire time together; it’s like he’s holding on for dear life.

you give him a second to lay there and catch his breath, watching him with a smile. he follows through with his promise to make you finish. he’s so weirdly good at giving head for someone with little skill. must be a god-given talent.

—

as he sits at the counter in his kitchen with you, eating pizza while you go on a rant about something work related, he can’t help but like you just a little more. you’re wearing his clothes now because apparently you’re sleeping over, but he’s fine with it; he likes how you look in his clothes and in his bed. you look like you’re his, and his heart swells just a little bit.

“what’s on your mind?” you ask as you take a bite. there’s no other answer but you.

maybe tonight wasn’t the night to talk about love. letting the feelings just slightly hang in the air instead may be for the best. he knows you have a lot on your plate, and he has to take a backseat until you can get your life back together with work being so overwhelming right now.