2026 Is Kinda Scary

“What are you in the mood for, hm? Eggs? A muffin?” She opens your off-white fridge and rummages through it. There really isn’t much in there but you can see she’s smiling ear to ear, tapping her fingers on the fridge door and standing on the tips of her toes. You often wonder why she’s always in a good mood but you suppose you don’t always need a reason to be happy. Maybe she’s feeling content because nothing wrong has happened. Right now, at 9 in the morning, you want to complain and then stew in your pot of thoughts. You have a meeting planned with Yoongi and you have no idea what should be on the agenda. Of course you have a great variety of ideas but not specifically for someone who’s more of a beginner like Yoongi. You even think you went a little hardcore on him in your most recent session.

“Can I just get some tea for now?” You finally reply.

Mi-na tilts her head but turns around to turn on the electric kettle. “What’s on your mind?”

Of course you can never keep anything away from her. She majored in psychology and she was always the top of her class. 

She’s subtly shaking her hips to the blasting music of an apartment down the hall. You gave up on trying to complain about them for a while now.

You’re distracted from the task at hand. 

“Well, remember I was talking about my new client?” 

She nods, “The one you said you were worried about because he was a total beginner? I told you that you should have just offered me. I know you’re uncomfortable with beginners.”

“Based on what he filled out on the form, I was fully expecting him to have experience. You should’ve seen him, Mi-na. He doesn’t look submissive in the slightest. I thought he was joking at first.”

Mi-na scoffed, “There goes you and your drawing to conclusions. So, what’s the issue?”

“I don’t know where to go from here to be fully honest.” And then you tell her what you HAVE done, assuming she can work from there.

She takes out a cup from your cabinet and pours out hot water, plopping a teabag in it and looks you in your eyes. “Hm…why don’t you touch him properly? Beginners feel better when something more familiar is implemented in play. I’m sure you can work your way from there, you know. I think that once you are both comfortable, you can start implementing the things you like to do like shibari, general bondage, sensory deprivation, edging, all of that.” 

You nod. Of course. You have to be the more confident one in this relationship. After all, he is the one paying you for it. 

“So what made him stand out?”

“What do you mean?” You reply, eyebrows knitting.

She lets out a short laugh, “C’mon. You never talk to me about your clients. I was a bit surprised by how much you talked about and described this new guy.”

“Like I said, you have to see him to understand where I’m from. He’s this guy with a composed look, stylish, tattoos all down his arms–”

“So? You’ve had hardcore bikers and models under you. What makes him different?”

You gnaw on the inside of your cheek. You knew exactly what made him different. You just don’t want to admit it to Mi-na just yet. Instead, you’re fiddling with the tail end of your tea bag, watching the water turn into a deeper red color.

-

When Mi-na leaves, you make your way to your bathtub. Walking into there is a bit of a pain nowadays since water covers the tiled floor and you’ve constantly found yourself too sluggish to lay a bunch of towels down. There, plunge your hands into the dark red water of the tub. You pull out the bunch of ropes you had just bought, feeling the texture on your fingers and then you drain the water, rinsing out the excess dye. You pull it out of the tub finally, the water making it a bit heavier and then you loosely coiled it on a specially made drying rack. 

-

Then, here you were, standing in your closet and deciding what heels would be best for tonight. Something more comfortable or something more sexy? Why is this something you’ve been deciding on for as long as you have? You barely have an hour left and you’re thinking so critically about which shoe to wear on your next meeting. Something tells you that you need to keep your mind on what’s important: Keeping Min Yoongi satisfied. 

So you pick a simple pair of black heels with comfortable soles and make your way out your front door. 

When you arrive at the restaurant, you arrive 10 minutes earlier than you should be. You tell the host about your specific and private reservation. This is a place more familiar with your line of work and more specifically, in a collaboration with the company you work under. So, it’s no surprise when you’re led to a luxurious booth covered with maroon velvet seats and with foldable panels, separating you from the rest of the public. Here, there’s menus with small and fancy writing and no price next to the variety. There’s cherry blossoms decorating the walls and a dim but warm light hanging from the top. 

You’re sitting close to the kitchen so you can smell all different varieties of aromas from food that vary from pasta to creamy sauces. You haven’t been here in a long time so you were looking forward to this. 

Speaking of looking forward to something, that’s when Yoongi takes the corner and sees you sitting there with crossed legs and the small wave of your manicured nails. He takes a seat at the booth across from you, looking how he always does: calm and collected. 

“I’m glad you found the place alright. I know the further you get to the back, the harder it is to navigate. The host and hostess often don’t come back here...” You start, trailing off. You’re looking at him with a piercing stare because he looks good enough to eat. His sleeves are rolled up and one button is down in a normal, white button-up shirt. His belt really shows his hips and his suit pants make his legs look nice and slender. Did he dress up just for you? You clear your throat. “How have you been?”

When you look closer, you can see the shade of Yoongi’s ears turn a nice pink and it sparks up your confidence. “I’ve been fine. Just a long day…So…” and he mutters something you can’t hear. It’s obviously aimed towards you by the way he meets your eyes but you can’t quite hear him. 

“Speak up?” 

“I asked…what’s on the agenda for today?”

“After dinner, we’re heading to your place but after that, it’s a surprise. You like surprises don’t you?”

He lets out a scoff, “I do but it takes a lot to surprise me.” 

“Humor me.” You pick up the menu. “I’m paying so choose whatever you’d like.”

His lips twitch a bit, “Aren’t I paying you? Why are you paying?”

You hush him.

You choose one of your favorite things from the menu and as he’s ordering, you pretend to accidentally slide your foot up his leg. He does spring up a bit but he keeps his expression flat. You mutter an apology but don’t bother to try to hide the small smile that creeps up your lips. The waiter seems submerged in every word Yoongi communicates to him. You look back at your menu but in the corner of your eye, you can see his eyes flicker down to your foot that is a bit too close to his side of the table. He doesn’t acknowledge it outloud but his gaze lingers and then he shifts his weight from one leg to the other before finishing his order. Once the waiter leaves, Yoongi places his elbows on the table with raised brows.

“You gonna try anything else here?” He asks. His lips quirk up just for a moment.

“You should take your elbows off the table. That isn’t very proper.”

Instead of answering his actual question, you offer him a small smirk. Your heel is nudging his leg playfully. There’s an anticipation between you two. The sexual tension is becoming thick and as you reach over and grab his hand in yours, you can feel the goosebumps raise on him. He’s nervous when his mind is submerged in possibilities of what your surprise may be and you can read him like a book, even when he’s just giving you a blank expression. 

Your fingers interlock on the table and you think about your first impression of him. He’s looking at you and slowly, you can tell he’s cracking. He takes a deep breath as tension grows and you slide your foot up until it’s resting on his knee. Then it goes back down to the carpeted floor. You want to tease him more. As your foot retreats, his eyes glaze over. Your foot returns to the floor and his gaze snaps back to yours, while you start up a new conversation and you can see the slightest hint of disappointment in his expression. He quickly masks it, however, and clears his throat.

“I think you’re easily surprised. You just choose not to show it to many but…I believe I can wrap you around my fingers.” You say, taking a sip of water.

The waiter returns with a basket of bread and a small dish full of seasoned olive oil for dipping. He leaves quickly after. Yoongi keeps his eyes on you. When he goes for a piece of bread, that’s when you decide to move your leg up until it’s at his inner thigh. His hand stops in mid-air as your foot drags up until it’s touching his crotch. 

“What am I feeling here, hm?”

He swallows hard, his eyes widening slightly as he feels your foot against him. He tries to steady his shaking fingers. "I…uhm…I don't know what you mean."

You press harder and he can’t help the breathy sigh he releases from the sudden pressure. He pushes himself closer. 

“I think you do. I think you have been anticipating something.” Your smile is kind but your tone is sultry, low. He’s having this conflict in his mind between keeping up his facade to keep cool or to give in and beg you to stop your torture. He thinks he can last longer but he’s burning up so he pops open a button. 

Watching him attempt to compose himself is more fun than you expected it to be. His heart even jumps out of his chest when the waiter comes back with your food. That’s when your foot starts moving and he’s feeling so much that he’s getting lightheaded. 

“Maybe we should get this to go? You look a bit tired, Yoongi.”

He presses his lips together. "I'm fine," he manages to say, his voice strained. You can see the vein on his neck popping with the effort of keeping himself under control. It doesn’t last long because as soon as the waiter walks away and there’s steaming plates of food in your faces, he’s holding your hand tighter. “Please?”

You raise your eyebrows and have to clench your legs closed, “I don’t know what you mean?” You echo his words back at him.

“You’re mean.” You can see the way the side of his lips quirk up into a smirk. “Okay, I think we should go.”

So you do. Your untouched food goes in boxes and you send your regards to the owner of the restaurant. When you make it back to Yoongi’s place, you can tell he’s nervous by the way his hands tremble when he brings out his keys to open the door. You lay your hand on his and help steady him. It’s when you start laying light kisses on his neck that he goes weak under your touch. You feel as if you’re sucking his energy from the way he lets out this deep exhale.

The door turns open and he stumbles in with you. His jacket is off and on the floor before you even make it to the living room. His breathes out in short and shallow gasps. His hands make their way in your hair when you find a particular part that gets him rowdy and suck on it. His back meets the couch and his knees buckle. 

He gets confused you don’t come down with him. You don’t bother to fix your hair but you take off your own jacket slowly and get his remote from the coffee table. 

“What should we watch…?” You’re acting as if nothing happened just a couple of seconds ago and as if he’s not half hard in his pants. 

He whimpers your name to get your attention. You turn to look at him and sit down right beside him. Just by the way you look at him, he know you’re not going to give in until he does first and if there’s anything Yoongi is confident about, it’s his stubbornness. So he gives you a movie recommendation and then you lean back and watch it together. 

However, as much as Yoongi wants to calm down, he can’t stop looking at you. You’re dressed like the goal was to tempt him and he’s wondering if this torture was his surprise. The movie begins, but Yoongi's eyes are not on the screen. He’s taking in every detail of your appearance. Your outfit, while it looks comfortable, leaves little to the imagination and Yoongi can't help but feel himself getting more and more worked up as the minutes pass by. He can’t stop shuffling by the time half an hour goes by.

His hand lands on your thigh to your surprise. “What do you think you’re doing?” 

His lips are shut but his eyes are begging. 

“That’s not exactly what I want and you know that…” You move his hand away with little regard for where it goes. 

You look away but it’s quick when he takes hold of your waist. You’re on his lap almost immediately and you’re caught off guard for a just a moment. 

“I thought we were going to watch a movie but you just can’t hold yourself back, hm? If you’re having so much trouble focusing, maybe we can do something else?” You guess he can win this time.

He stopped himself from eagerly nodding, “That would be nice…” He mumbles back.

You lean closer to him and grab his wrists, holding them together up above his head.  While that hand is holding his arms away from touching you again, the other unzips his pants. 

“Is this your surprise?” He lays his head back with a huff. 

You pull out his cock, twitching in your palm. As you begin to stroke him, you start talking. “Let’s set some rules. I want you to last until I say you can. No touching and think about your behavior. I think that if you were more avid, I would be nicer.”

He finally lets out a full blown groan, the same sound reverberating down your body and all along your skin. For as long as he’s had this boner, he’s so sensitive.

“I don’t know how long I can l-last for.” He thrusts into your hand. 

“C’mon playboy…” You let go of his arms and instead grip his jaw. The way you’re treating him has him submerged into what feels like paradise. He feels as if he’s been placed in a place where he does not have to think about anything but you and the way you skillfully make him feel. “You don’t last and there’s going to be an issue, understood?” Your voice is raised just a bit. He’s hesitant to admit that your voice turns him on in itself.

“Yes…” He replies with, hands lowering to take handfuls of his couch as you continue to stroke him at the same torturous pace. 

“Yes, who?” Your grip tightens.

He moans out a blended mess of, “Yes mistress.”

You smirk at his response, “Better.” You’re pleased with his obedience so as a little reward, you lean close to his ear and the heat of your breath causes shivers to run down his body. If there’s anything that Yoongi has learned in your sessions, it’s that he’s definitely more submissive than he ever was dominant. He’s never felt so embarrassed about how he might cum soon if he doesn’t think of something else before and sure, pussy feels good but when he’s been edged for what feels like centuries, he gets desperate. He likes seeing how satistsfied you are, how much you feel from making him feel good. 

You turn him to lay down on the couch just like how it was before when you discovered his seriously sensitive nipples. Only, this time, youre sitting on his face in a pencil skirt. Coming to a conclusion that he feels the most satistisfied when you are, it’s now a new torture to feel you stroking his cock while you’re needy and shuffling on his face. You gather saliva up in the cheeks of your mouth and spit a glop on your hand, using that to  guide your hand in a more slick handjob.

His words and sounds are muffled under your skirt. His mind drifts off to when you made him cum before without even touching his dick.  

“Hm?” You ask him, leaning off of his face for a moment.

“Can I…”

 "Can you what?"

Yoongi swallows hard, his face flushed beneath your skirt. "Can I taste you?" He asks softly, pleading you for permission.

You think for a moment, considering his request. You know how wet you are right now but…“No. You can’t.”

“Please?” He’s getting whiny, out of his typical deadpan character. 

Watching him beg only makes you want to get more mean, more cruel. You finally quicken your pace and instead of answering him with another denial, you sit back down on his face, only with more pressure and he’s damn near suffocating under it. All he can breathe in is the smell of your arousal and feel the limit of how much air his lungs can take. There’s some breathability when you open your legs but sometimes you shut them and practically suffocate him with your thighs. He’s way too into it and he twitches in your hand like crazy. It’s invigorating and pretty soon, he’s getting louder under your skirt. Every once in a while, you lift off of him to give him one big breath before he’s back. 

So it’s a wonder with all the air you give him, why he grabs onto your hips when you explicitly told him not to.

You let go of his dick, wetly hitting his stomach and you lift yourself up again. There’s a mix of amusement and annoyance in your tone and even in your expression, “Didn’t I tell you not to touch me?” Your voice is cold and now, Yoongi can feel it. He can feel a slither of fear run down him and it does nothing but fuel his fantasies and increase his desire for you. He’s gotten himself enamered with you by now. If you react this way, he’s thinking that maybe he should do it more often; acting out and seeing how you punish him. 

“‘M sorry…” He apologizes but any one would be able to tell that it was lackluster, pathetic. 

So he admits he’s surprised when you land a slap on his dick. He thrusts up but is confused why. It burns at first but the shock of pleasure is addicting. His fingers are tingling and his brain is clouded. “Fuck–I’m sorry…” He says it again but it’s even weaker than the first one. It’s not on purpose though, he just can’t think straight anymore. 

You slap it again and the moan he lets out is damn near angelic. If you weren’t wet before, you definitely are now and it threatens to soak through your skirt if it’s already through your underwear. “Oh…seems like you’re more of a masochist than I thought you were. You’re getting off to this, aren’t you?”

He shivers under your touch once you take his dick in your hand again. A mix of pleasure and pain courses through his body and before he can open his mouth and admit it, a moan comes out instead, gushing pre-cum as you slap it once more. 

“I’m–I’m gonna cum.” And he says your name with such a shaky breath that you actually think he’s scared to cum.

“No, you aren’t.” You state matter-of-factly. “You’re gonna hold it for me and make up for your mistakes, aren’t you Min Yoongi?”

He whimpers but nods. There’s pressure building up in the pit of his stomach, the need to release almost unbearable but he doesn’t want to disobey you even more. 

You lean back down so he can tell there’s new arousal, thick and heavier than before. “Good boy,” You whisper.

You can feel his chest vibrate at his groan. After multiple sessions, of course you could tell he liked praise and you found it amusing how much it affected him.  

His words are muffled but he gets more and more despreate as you stroke him harder, tighter, faster. His tip is this bright and pretty shade of pink from your treatment. The last thing on your mind at this point is treating him kindly. It’s when you use your other hand to rub his tip that he really can’t stop moving. You watch and feel him squirm beneath you as you continue. Then you twist your torso and grab a handful of his hair, pulling him back slightly. The breath that touches your skin is quick and hot, chest heaving with every pant.

“That’s it, baby. Cum for me.”

His ears perk up and he lets out this long and low moan as you pull his hair and give him your final command. It’s like a switch flips in him as he bucks his hips and gets closer to your masterful touch. There’s sweat down his stomach as he trembles and rolls his eyes back. 

You keep stroking him and nudge yourself off of his face. “Let go for me. Focus.”

You know he’s stuck at this moment and he just needs a little nudge. That’s what your words do to him and he finally bursts, cumming all over your hand and on his stomach. He’s heaving so hard that you go into aftercare mode immediately. When he’s done. You come off of him and hold his face in yours. Even when his forehead is sweaty, you press it to yours. 

“Breathe…You did so good for me, Yoongi. So good.” 

He’s almost completely limp in your hold but you can see his smile. He’s already starting to feel achey everywhere even when you just finished and that lets him know that he’s going to feel this even more in the morning. He only starts talking when his breath is nearly calm and he’s realizing how dirty he is. Sweat all over his body and he hadn’t taken off most of his clothes. There’s cum on his stomach and dried up tears on his cheeks. You’re flattered.

“Fucking hell…” He mumbled. He whinces as he hears how raspy his voice is. 

You kiss his cheek, noticing a nice purple mark on his neck. “Did I go too hard on you?” You ask him, taking his safety into mind.

He laughs, “Honestly, if you keep doing things like that to me, I’m gonna fall in love with you.”

You both laugh. “Where’s your towels?”

He points to a closed door, “In the bathroom, in the closet next to the sink.”

So you make your way there. You find the closet and take out a rag but before you can close the closet, your eyes catch on a black box. Curiosity takes the best of you and you open it just for a peak inside. 

You find a variety of women’s clothes. Cute turtle necks, skirts, knee-high socks, the works. Your jaw drops. This could mean so many things depending on which way you plan to look at this from. 

When you come back to him, he’s completely calm but just uncomfortable. You bring a bowl of warm water and a rag and wipe him down, assuming he doesn’t want to make his way to the bathroom. He looks at you through it all and feels himself overwhelmed with a certain feeling. Maybe he’s just horny again but the silence is sweet and he doesn’t want to do anything but look at your face. His blinks are slow and eventually, he starts to feel really sleepy. 

“I’m just gonna get you some new underwear and then we can make our way to your  bed, okay?” You’re kinder with him now that he’s completely weak. 

He feels a bit fresher and knows he’ll have to shower later tomorrow but he feels nice when you lay with him on his bed. You play with his hair with let him lay between your breasts, gentle in reflection to how you treated it before. When he falls asleep, you slowly move his arm from on your hip and make your way out of his home. 

You’re chewing on your lips as your mind is busy with other thoughts. What was up with that black box? 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist - @hobiswhore @madstxo @itsshaydeekaydee @namjooncrabs @ollyoxenfrees @jajabro @lchimmyl @hiefisch @sugar-petals

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You stand up straighter and look at him, pursing your lips. When his eyes meet yours, he can’t keep eye contact for long and his sight adverts back to the ceiling with mood lighting and constellations. It seems that seeing you jogged his memory on what exactly occurred on Halloween day. You dressed up in something provocative. A full body suit of latex with the only skin really showing being your breast, pushed together and shown a generous amount. You could pull the zipper up but it wouldn’t be accurate to your costume like that. A whip was around your waist as well.

The main point was that you had a little too much to drink. You spoke your mind freely, conversing with Minho about your obvious attraction to Changbin. You mostly complained about the blatant signs you’ve been showing him, to no avail. He took them as jokes and maybe would even get a bit flustered before reverting back to the same ol’ Seo Changbin. When you caught the very man you were talking about in the corner of your eye, you couldn’t help stumbling towards him.

He was shocked when you had pressed your chest to his and fluttered your eyes. He got out the words ‘hey’ but he realized it wasn’t very like you, to so blatantly hit on him. Still, he wasn’t getting the message.

The most shocking thing was when you led his hands to take a handful of your breast in a party full of your friends. He wasn’t thinking clearly when it happened, hands still on them. You make him squeeze them, lip between your teeth. It’s not until you whisper something in his ear that he’s snapped out of it. No, this was not like you at all.

He held his breath and stepped away, slightly intoxicated as well, some of it being the alcohol in his red solo cup but mostly by the smell of your perfume.

He had to leave soon after that. You were told about what you did (with detail, from Minho) after sleeping over and with your splitting hangover, you were mortified. What were you going to say to your friend the next time you saw him? You swore to never drink that much ever again. You regretted avoiding Changbin for the rest of the week but you couldn’t handle thinking about what he’d say. Maybe a way to completely reject your crush or maybe he was so oblivious that he would shrug it off as a drunken mistake. That would really hurt.

But wasn’t that what you were doing now? “Listen…what happened that night, it was just a joke-“ and he cuts you off with his own words.

“Was it? I don’t think being dressed as cat woman and making me-“ he clears his throat, “squeeze your tits was a very funny joke.”

You open your mouth for a second and then you lean over. “You’re right. It wasn’t funny. It was wrong.” You guiltily press your lips together.

“It’s not that I didn’t like it or anything!” He gets out, waving his hands.

You grab the tongs out of his hand and take the meat off the grill. You couldn’t deny that you enjoyed seeing Changbin a little flustered. He could be bold when he wanted to, more often than not but when he was like this, you just wanted to tease him.

You slip off one of your flats. You could be bold without the influence of alcohol.

“Would you have preferred if I continued? Right there in the open for all of our friends to see?” You ask, leaning on one of your hands.

Right as he’s about to answer, your foot brushes against his leg and he lets out this squeak. The sound makes you want to laugh but you hold back. The people near you in other stalls look for a moment with confusion before carrying on their conversation. Changbin thinks you touching him under the table must’ve just been a mistake so he carries on to answer your question.

“I’m not really interested in having our friends witness something like THAT-!” Then he lets out another loud noise when your thin-socked foot drags up his leg. He’s wearing those really hot gray sweatpants that he knows you like. “Are you…doing that on purpose?”

You drag your tongue on your lower lip, completing it with this mischievous smile. You watch as he gulps comically.

“Then, what are you interested in?” You carry on the conversation as if nothing is going on under the table.

Changbin shuffles a bit in his chair. At first, he’s hesitant to say what’s on his mind but he spits it out: “…You.” Then he takes a spoonful of rice and meat into his mouth. You reward him with resting your foot between his legs, toeing at the fabric losing hanging from his crotch. It drags down again, caressing his thigh barley and he’s looking down and letting out the lightest sigh. “Are we really going to do this here…?”

“We haven’t been here long but of course I could stop if you aren’t comfortable.” You start backing away your leg but he puts his hand back on it.

“Don’t stop.”

“That isn’t very polite of you.” You finally press the curve of your foot on his crotch. “Let’s try that again. I think you’re missing the magic word.”

His eyes almost burst open. His jaw drops. “I didn’t know you were like this…”

You fake a pout. “That’s not the word.” And you put more pressure on him, feeling him twitch under the pressure.

He shuffles his hips up, “Please-please? I’m sorry.”

You use your finger to motion him to come closer. When he does, you have full access to getting him hard under your foot without gathering suspicion. You immediately get to work, stretching your toes over what you feel is the head and stroking him. His eyes shut almost immediately and his eyebrows dent down. It couldn't be any more obvious that he’s getting a foot job right now.

“Did you like the costume I wore?” You ask, stopping your motions so he can focus on your question.

He’s not stupid. As his eyes subtly open, he acknowledges that he knows you’re playing a game with him. “You kidding? I was drooling over it the whole party.”

You start your movements again and Changbin can’t help the choked out sound he makes. You fake concern as to lower suspicion to whoever may be looking into your booth, on their way to the bathroom. When another person walks by, you get curious and caress the head of his cock. He jilts in his seat and has to bite on his lip, scared he might let out a noise.

“What do you think about what I was wearing while I’m doing this?”

“If I do that, I might…y’know, early.”

“You liked it that much?” And then the heel of your foot is grinding on balls.

It’s meant as a punishment but the way he covers his mouth with one hand and grips the edge of the wooden table has you thinking it was closer to a reward. His arm flexes with his grip and you start to actually get concerned.

“You okay? Should we stop?” You take your hand over the table. He quickly takes a hold of yours and whimpers, intertwining them.

“Don’t. Was really close. Keep goin’.” He whispers with a slur in his words as if he’s already lust-drunk. It’s quiet enough so only you can hear it over the other talking.

Your strokes get more fluid, realizing that he might like it a little more rough than he’s leading on. So you get rougher with more pressure, more swivel, harder grip. You want to absolutely ruin him with this new information but you have to hold yourself back in public. You can’t help but feel a small rush at the thought of someone catching on to Changbin’s heavy breaths and realizing what’s actually going on. Of course, it would be embarrassing if it were to actually happen and Bin wouldn’t actually be comfortable about that.

Then you mouth the same words you whispered into his ear that Halloween night. His jaw slacks and it’s like he’s going to let out noise but instead, he’s silent as he cums in his pants. His eyes squeeze shut hard and he shakes with the impact of his release. It’s when he settles down and his watery eyes are begging you to stop that you do.

You slip your foot back into your shoe and point to the food. “Can you grill this one next?”

Drool is running down his lip as he sits in a haze of post-orgasmic bliss. His look makes you want to kiss him.

-

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You told him it was a terrible idea but gave in at the hint of free fair food. Yum, free fried food that you could possibly get food poisoning from. You were in.

The smell of something fried in dough was in the air from the day before. Even as you looked around, you caught glimpses of janitors cleaning up the discarded trash. They didn’t seem to care about the two of you. You met eyes with one of them but they just gave you a brief smile and continued sweeping cracked concrete.

Jin is holding your arm by your wrist, eyes lit up like a child showing their mother their favorite ride. He’s looking straight at the lights that just turned on all around a ferris wheel. It was a little cute but you refused to back down because of a couple of cute things your boyfriend did without even knowing he did them. Sure, he was gorgeous but that wouldn’t suddenly revive you and give you the energy you’ve been craving to catch up on. Recent work days were 9 to 7 and the rest of the day was filled with cooking and sleeping. You barely had time to binge watch your favorite shows. Even if you tried, you’d be asleep by episode 2. Sometimes you’d wake up in the arms of your boyfriend, lifting you up from the couch and carrying you to bed. He would lay you down gently, pulling the blanket over you right before getting in beside you and pulling your head against his chest. It was comfy and warm and days like those are when you sleep your best.

“You flatter me. You think my other ideas are good?” He grins, looking back at you.

That isn’t what you meant and he knew it but you’ve learned that he gets a kick out of teasing you. You’ve decided to just let it be when he says things like that. He usually isn’t looking for an answer, just the roll of your eyes satisfies him.

“Behold!” He shouted and you slapped his arm at his loud voice while it echoed in the empty area. He pouted, rubbing the spot you barely hit. “I wanted to show you this place. Isn’t it cool?”

You sighed and looked up, not surprised in the slightest for what Jin was showing you. Not a glimpse of excitement came to you and you sluggish read the words. In squiggly words that were decorated with polka dots and stripes were the words: Mazy’s Mirror Maze. Very creative. You looked at him and showed him an expression to describe what you were feeling. Absolutely underwhelmed.

“Yeah? It’s a mirror maze. What about it.” You mumbled.

Jin looked disappointed, wrapping his arm around your hip. You’re grateful for the warmth he adds on you, sinking into your skin. “Babe…you have no idea how fun this could be. A mirror maze. To ourselves?”

You’re not catching on so you pinch his sweater and tug at it, “Let’s just go back home. I’m tired and I have work at 12.”

Seokjin takes your hand into his. He lifts it to his face, pressing his lips on the knuckle. His eyes glaze over, begging you to let him stay longer. It seems he has hyped up his surprise too much in your opinion but you’re weak to those eyes. Damn those puppy eyes.

“Fine. Show me how fun this could be.” You wave at him with the back of your hand.

Then he’s pulling you into the maze. It’s full of normal mirrors at first but it seems like Jin knows where he’s going. Things look confusing and you’re looking at multiple copies of you and him. A couple lefts and rights and the lighting makes it hard to see, progressively getting darker the further you get in the maze. He doesn’t seem worried. You wince when there’s a sudden blast of light. You’ve entered this hallway, full of some mirrors that are normal and others that make you look odd. In some, you’re short and in others you’re lanky. You’re wavy in one and swirled in others. You’ve always wondered how these worked. All of the mirrors are lined with silver paint that seems to be chipping on the very edges.

“Okay. Now that we’ve gone through the maze, let’s go.” And you pull his arm to go to the door at the end of the hall labeled ‘EXIT’.

“Buh-We are not done here.”

And you’re suddenly in his arms. He’s pressed you against one of the straight normal mirrors. He’s purposefully pulled your body close to his so you can feel…

“How are you hard right now?” You ask incredulously.

He pecks your lips, “Have been for a while. You know why.”

And then your memory is jogged with the events earlier today. In a sleepy haze at twelve at night, he pulled you in and asked you if he should do something a little spicy. You mumbled under your breath, asking what he meant, and caught in your sight on something sparkly and the size of your hand. Your vision is blurred from the fight you have with your circadian rhythm. You tell him sure, why not, and drift off into slumber soon after. You swear you can hear his dragged out sighs as he shuffles around in bed. It annoys you but then he’s pressed against you and you can finally get some shut eye.

With you pressed on the mirror, Jin pulls his pants and underwear down in one go, not concerned for possible witnesses in the slightest. You gasp at what you see reflected in the mirror across the hall. There’s a pretty little plug right between Seokjin’s ass cheeks.

“Oh. Oh wow.” You add in, suddenly interested.

Nothing stops you from moving your arms around his body and grabbing handfuls of his ass. His eyes open wide, wanting more of your rough touch. He moves forward and tucks himself in your neck, a soft sigh peeking out of his lips. It’s when you press down on the plug that he’s twitching against your thigh and lets out this lovely moan.

“Can I- c-can we-“

You’ve noticed that Jin struggles to ask to have sex when he’s flustered. You find it cute and you’re overwhelmed with the desire to make him cum. Some part of you does want to wait to see if he can get the words out.

“Can you fuck me?” He finally gets out, body pushed against yours.

He’s needy, grinding against your thigh and gripping your hips hard. When you take a hold of his chin and pull him out from the corner of your neck, he’s faking this pout. His lips are down but it’s in a way that makes it look like he’s mocking you. You really want to wipe that look off his face.

You pull your pants and underwear down. You kick them away and stand with your hands on your hips. “You think you can hold me up?”

“I know I can.” His mood switches like a light. At one moment he’s a begging mess but the other, his head is way too big.

You pull your arms around his neck and jump up to wrap your legs around his hips. Your body is firmly pressed against the mirror when he leans forward and your ass feels cold on it. The feeling shocks you for a moment but you stop yourself from moving too much. One wrong move and you might topple over along with Seokjin.

He’s leaned against your chest, trying to look down and aim for where he wants to sink in you. You can’t help but laugh a bit when you notice him struggle. He’s frustrated, nose flared and face burning hot. Your laughter does nothing but mock him. It doesn’t help when you add:

“Is this the time you realize the hole is a little lower? It’s not that difficult, Jinnie.”

He whines, “It’s difficult because you’re too wet.”

Your legs cross behind his back, “Look at me, baby.” And he follows. You notice his eyes are watery and his pout is much more genuine this time. Good. You peck his lips and take hold of his cock, lips closed with a moan. You line it up for yourself, “Now, try.”

He pushes himself inside of you, not being able to help himself from letting out this most delectable moan. You groan with him at the sudden entrance. You swear he acts like he’d die without your pussy; It’s warm, tight, and so wet that he’s scared he might slip out. His thrusts are shallow and although he’s hitting the right spot, it’s just not doing it for you just yet. You notice by the way he’s heavily breathing that he’s turned on more than usual.

“Can I finger you when we get back home.” You whisper in his ear.

He reaches as deep as he can get before he’s pulling out from your neck, looking at you with his jaw dropped. “Can you not say stuff like that when I’m inside of you? Fuck…”

You moved one arm under his so it’s around his hip, the other arm still wrapped around his back to keep you stable. “Why? Were you about to cum? Does that mean you’ll say yes?”

He groans as he continues his shallow thrusts. Then you’re moving your hand down to his ass, pressed down on the butt plug. He stiffens and presses his forehead to yours. It’s sweaty but you don’t pull away. When he sinks all the way into you, he reaches deep and is caressing your sensitive walls. You’re clenching with purpose because although you know he won’t last long enough to make you cum, you still want him to feel good. You want his mind to be clear with nothing but pleasure.

“Shit-“ He’s twitching inside you, right on the edge. When you pushed down the butt plug constantly, it hit his prostate with such light pressure that it was constantly teasing him. When you do it again with that mischief filled grin, it’s over. He’s been turned on for 5 hours and it’s a surprise he didn’t cum as soon as he entered you (which happens sometimes and those are your favorite days. You end up coaxing another orgasm out of him when he’s much more sensitive). He couldn’t even fall asleep because he was so distracted by his boner. He was pressed against your plush ass as you slept tonight but it granted no relief because you slept like a rock, barely even moving.

He’s filling you up with the next shallow thrusts, eyesight full of static when he closes them. His consistent moans as he cums make you feel deeply satisfied. You kiss his cheek and rub his back while he comes down from his high, shaking in your arms.

“And what do you say?” You say through the silence once your clothes are back on. You feel cum already being caught by your underwear. Gross.

“You knew I wanted to make you—fuck you.” He pouts.

You should be shocked by his language. But frankly, you’re used to vulgarity and if anything, you should be the frustrated one. He pulled you out of your sleep to fuck in a mirror maze. Instead you mutter in a way that makes him barely hear: “Oh I will.”

When his brain clicks to what you mean, he flushes and it’s not just because of the waft of cold that hits the both of you once you leave through the exit.

-

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Felix licks the flavored gloss off his lips before clearing his dry throat, “Water would be nice, thank you.”

You nod and with no other words to exchange, you disappear into another room.

Although you told him to make himself comfortable, he isn’t sure he can even do that. He doesn’t know where to even start. He pulls off his coat and places it messily on the same rack. It’s ends up strewn on two of the hooks. It’s very different from how you put yours down. Felix often realizes that when he’s around you, he doesn’t act as proper and professional as you do. Always with a stoic expression and a settled tone. No one gets under your skin, no matter what they say and whether it’s been related to your pass or not.

He finds himself running his hand down the inside of your jacket, feeling like silk on his fingers. There’s something about the elegance of what you wear and emit that drew him in. He knew you were rich but not this rich.

He finally moves away from the entrance, fingers brushing against carefully chiseled pillars. He figures he better go and do what he came here to do. So, he found your living room and sat down, rubbing his arms to keep himself warm. The only thing Felix could feel was the luxury but there was no warmth of what you call your home. The furniture gave into the air like an art exhibit, paired with crystal-shaped plants and sharp lined paintings. The gray leather couch wasn’t as comfortable as it could have been because it had yet to be broken in. The television looked brand new, not even a visible speck of dust on the screen and a sheen of plastic still covered it. No, this just did not feel real. Do you even come to your own home and ever relax?

What was taking you so long with that water?

Then, there was a clack on the floor. The sound circled the room as it became quieter and quieter. He jumped from his seat at the sudden noise and looked up from your T.V. to see you standing at the entrance. You looked the same, save the buttons down all the way to where your bra stoped. Your belt was off, tailored pants still curved around your waist. The only thing that seemed off was instead of a glass of water, it was a bowl.

A dog bowl.

The clang on the floor must’ve been from the metal of the bowl and Felix notices water spreading on the floor, starting to touch the carpet and the dark wood. He looks in the bowl this time, watching ice cubes float.

“Get off of my couch.” You wave your hand and then point to the ground.

Felix follows along, eyebrows scrunched in confusion. He stands up from the seat and then walks to the very spot you point at. He notices the disappointed look on your face. You click your tongue and show him the bowl. This time, you point at it with the point of your shoe.

“Go on, have your water.”

Felix is starting to catch on.

He sets himself on his hands and knees and looks back at you. You’re smiling now, an expression that he doesn’t often see on your solemn face. He looks back down this his fingers and watches the chipped black polish shine along with the waxed floor. Crawling on the floor, his sharp shaped shoes hitting the carpet constantly until his head dives down when it meets the bowl and he licks. It’s harder than he had thought, to get a good amount of water just through licks. The water is so cold at first and he has to stop himself from flinching away. Like a spell, he tells himself anything to make you happy, anything to see you smile like that again.

“Such a good boy.” And he lights up at your comment.

He even finds himself twitching in his pants when you caress his head. You lift him by his chin from out of the bowl and wipe off the excess water that rolls down his lips with your thumb.

“Thank-“ He opens his mouth to answer you but he’s cut off when you place your thumb on his tongue. It’s deep but not enough to make him choke.

“Last time I checked, dogs didn’t speak. They bark.”

Felix closes his lips around your thumb and lets out a small ‘yip’ with his mouth closed. The sound makes him feel embarrassed but he sees your eyes are filled with a deep desire for more. You tell him to say it louder, like he’s begging you.

He barks when your thumb leaves his mouth and you can’t help the glee that fills your body. You push him back so he sits on the floor and you straddle his lap. His body hits the bottom part on the couch and you tug so hard at his shirt that the buttons pop off and spread on the floor. The shirt is like paper against your strength and you reach over in your pocket and pull out a collar. On it, has the name “Lixie” on it in gold and it shocks him that you had something like this for him.

“Is this okay? Do you like it?” You grin and then put it around his neck with his permission, a snug fit. He opens his mouth to reply with another bark, and you push your hands in his fluffy blond hair from the back. “I’m glad.”

The next moments are spent with you grinding your clothed body against his.

When you give him a command, he’s immediate to reply with a bark and his head lands back on the seat of the couch. He’s constantly thinking about it but he holds back from touching you because thinking about a possible punishment gives him chills. By the time he cums, his throat is sore.

-

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“I…Okay.” Although, Chris is tempted to end this relationship, whatever this is. He shuts his mouth because he’s feeling particularly horny today and no one really moved their hips like you did. Trust him, he knows. He fears he might change your mind if he says something snarky in return.

Maybe it’s a mixture of the close relationship the two of you have had since you met in college and how he’s never been able to suppress the huge crush he’s had on you. Sure, he remembers meeting you and getting to know you but it was nothing like love at first sight, given how good looking you are. He’s not sure when it started but something about you pulled him in. He’s not sure how your friendship developed into this.

This has been going on for longer than he expected it to.

He would just have to give you a certain look and your conversation would drift away. Your lips would shut and your fingers would walk up his bicep. The day would always end with his back arching and a moan so ear ringing, you’d laugh. You’d follow with something along the lines of calling him “such a baby” or calling him cute. It didn’t help how big headed you were, mocking him. You were aware of how your looks and your hips affected him. Maybe he was into the way you treated him during sex.

You rest your body on your bed and lay your head down on the plush of your pillow. Patting your lap with your free hand, you place the other behind your head. Your eyes light up when he meets them because he knows what’s going to happen. You’re relaxing…which can only mean one thing.

Chris shifts his boxers to the side so he can be more comfortable in the tightness of them. When you lay on your back or when you sit up on your headboard, it’s an invitation to take a ride. You know that he loves riding your strap, no matter how much his legs scream in exhaustion. He thinks of it as something akin to leg day at the gym. However no matter how much he favors it, you don’t let him do it as often as he likes to. One of the reasons to consider is that when he rides, he rides hard. The back of the dildo you use always ends up hitting your clit and by the end of the day, it’s way too sensitive and there’s strained marks on your thighs. He bounces so hard that it’s inevitable. Baby just gets too excited. You never came from him riding you but you’ve been close numerous times. It’s like he purposefully wants to tease you.

Why does Chris like riding you so much? Well, he can’t help but get submerged in the ocean that is your moans. They’re so pretty coming from your lips. You’re constantly on edge and it fills him with some sense of control. Not the control of being a dom but control of his feelings and your pleasure.

“I know I’m gorgeous but why look when you can ride, hm?” You usher impatiently. It’s not quite demanding but a chill tune up his spine with your tongue licks across your lips like you’re ready to eat him up.

Chris had been in a daze for a moment, thinking of the many ways this could go.

When he finally attaches the strap-on to you (you raised your hips to help but didn’t bother standing up), he’s eager to get on top of you already.

“Ah ah ah.” You stop him.

You hand lands under his thigh to keep him up as he gets on you, wanting to lower himself while looking at your face. He’s close to you, desperately wanting a kiss but holding himself back at your command.

“Don’t want you to get hurt. Turn around and lemme see that ass.”

Your words are a bit too vulgar for him and he’s close to laughing but instead, he gets the message. He lets out a disappointed huff. Gets up and pulls off the garment that’s been restricting him ever since he got in your bedroom. When he climbs back on, he’s on all fours on your lap, ass facing you. He’s looking back at you to see any signs of your approval. You’re left speechless for a bit, watching the way his hole puckers desperately, just waiting for your thrust.

You reach out with the free hand and use your thumb to press in before spreading his hole open. He lets out a breath he’s been holding as if he’s been waiting for some type of touch from you for eons.

“Can I ride you now? Please?” He wiggles his ass at you and your grip slips away.

You land a slap on the plump flesh, and he moves away from the sting with a little moan. It makes a nice sound; the ache lingers just the way he likes it and he might want you to do it again.

“You’re so cute when you beg me like that.” You mumble. You caress the red mark you made on his ass with your thumb.

It isn’t great for his heart, suddenly calling him cute like that.

“Come and sit on this cock. ‘s all yours, baby.” Your words are a bit slurred at this point, getting more and more closer to lust-drunk. You love watching him like this, he knows.

He takes a deep breath and pushes himself closer to the dildo, the toy resting right between his cheeks. He raises himself after a moment and presses his hole to the tip but doesn’t quite sit down. Just the feeling has his mind drifting off into the clouds. He’s anticipating the feeling of it filling him up and he thinks he might cum as soon as it hits his prostate. That doesn’t stop you from pulling him down by his hips and entering him in one fell swoop. The shock is great and it gets him more than it would if he inserted it himself. The way his back arches is visually delectable and you can’t help the moan that pierces from your throat, the same time as Chris.

He has to take a deep breath now and stay still. He doesn’t think he’ll last long.

“Start moving. We don’t have all day, Channie.” The way your hips try to grind up to his, causes shocks of pleasure to wave through his body. He couldn’t possibly even think about moving right now. He’s too sensitive and he might cum before the fun even starts, thinking about how embarrassing that would be. “I’m sorry, did I stutter?”

You get kind of mean the more you get into it and it’s only a matter of time before you’ll start calling him names.

He rocks his body but it doesn’t help the way he feels it in his stomach. The dildo really fills him up perfectly. He presses his abs, feeling so full.

“That’s a good slut. C’mon.” You encourage him, not moving anymore but just observing the way his ass slides on your strap. It enters slowly and once to the very bottom, he lets out a grunt and lifts himself up again.

His hands land on your knees to hold himself so he can ride you properly.

“I m-might cum.” He slows his movements even more, stiffening as his thoughts drift off to something else so he can hold himself back. “Fuck…”

You slap his other cheek this time, taking him out of his thoughts and back to earth. When he looks back at you, it’s such a lovely sight that he has to hold his cock.

“I didn’t say you could stop. I had high expectations from you.” You sound a bit disappointed.

Chris trembles. He knows you’re just messing with his head but that doesn’t stop the need to want to make you proud of him. All he has to do is move a little faster. So, he starts quickening his pace. His glances back at you give him just as much pleasure as the strap because he can see the way your mouth is ajar, caught in a trance from looking at his ass. When you do look away, you reach for the lube in the bedroom drawer beside you. Then Chris is surprised when you push him off your strap, an amount of strength he didn’t know you had.

You suck your teeth when you see his pout.

“You’re such a baby. I’m just getting it wet for you. Do you really like my cock that much?” And then you scoff with that snarky smirk of yours and a similar attitude to pair.

You pop open the bottle in your hands. Lube coats your fingers and you jerk off the dildo to cover it. Then you wipe your fingers on his hole. Your finger slips in with barely any resistance and then you hook it, hitting the exact spot he’s been abusing this whole time while riding you. You can’t help the smile on your face as you thrust your finger. He rocks his hips to it but it’s not enough and he doesn’t wanna cum to this.

“Wait!” He says out loud, grasping his dick again.

“Is there a problem?” You feign ignorance but stop like he says and pull your finger out.

Chris takes this as an invitation to sit back on you. This time, it’s more slippery and wet. It’s easier for him to set a faster pace than he had before and he wants to cum so badly but his refractory period is terrible. If he came now, that would be the end of today.

“Y/N…?” It’s a mixture of a moan and a way to get your attention.

“Y-yes, Chan?” You stutter and it fills him with glee. You rarely stutter unless you’re really turned on. This is what gives him the confidence to ask his next question.

“Can I finger you while I sit on your strap?”

Then your hand lands on his hip, stopping his movements. “Shit, what’s gotten into you.” And he looks back to see your face again. Your expression is scrunched up but not in disgust. It’s more like you’re so overwhelmed with pleasure. “Just wanna feel how wet I am, or somethin’?”

Chris won’t deny that’s one of the many reasons but he tells you his main reason. “I just…really want you to cum on my fingers.”

You thrust up, catching him off guard. His yelp as he catches himself on your knee satisfies you. “Oh yeah? Go ahead and push my panties to the side.”

He sits up and does as you say. At his angle, he doesn’t have a great sight of your pussy but he knows exactly where to go. A finger slides between your folds before breaching your hole and when you shift your hips up to take more of his fingers, your cock grinds on the spot he needs you the most.

The noises that follow are far from holy. He gets another finger in you, crooking them to find that rough patch. He knows he’s found your spot when you’re moving your hips up and down.

“I can’t-“ His moans cut him off from saying what he wants to say. He gets louder as he gets closer and closer to his climax.

You’re too distracted to come up with anything snarky so instead you reach over and take his cock in your hand. It comes to life in your grip and Chris has to stop his movements so his brain can zero in on the pleasure you’re giving him. His eyes shut immediately. Your hips keep moving for him, all the way inside of him before shallowly pushing your body into the mattress and repeating that motion. It seems to be doing the trick because it’s only a matter of time before his eyes are glazing over and he’s cumming all over your fingers. You milk him for all he’s worth before his dick softens in your grip.

Just when you think everything’s done, it’s not. His fingers are still stuffed in you and now his goal is to make you cum, no matter what.

“Channie-“ You can’t help your voice.

He shifts his body so the dildo still rubs your clit but with this extra stimulation, there’s no way you’re lasting long.

You shake in your orgasm, fireworks bursting behind your eyelids when you clench them close. Waves of your climax shut on his fingers so tight that his dick hurts because he’s imagining it’s not his fingers but something else instead.

He slowly pulls out then lifts with his aching legs off of your strap. He flops on the side of you on your bed, out of breath and hips achy.

Your clean hand lands on his back, comforting circles rubbed with your thumb. He wants to fall asleep but your voice stops him from doing so. “We gotta clean up.”

You wipe your fingers off with nearby pocket tissues. You take Chris’ hand in yours and wipe them off as well.

“Thanks for that, again.” His voice is muffled in your pillow but you can make out his words. You aren’t sure if he’s talking about you wiping off his fingers or for giving him another good fuck.

You detach the harness from your legs and waist and place the things to the side. Your hand is in his hair soon after, playing with strains and losing knots with your fingers. He turns his head to look at you and his heart beats out of his chest. You’re leaning on your hand and softly smiling at him. It’s that type of smile that’s full of care.

Then he begins to think, maybe he does have a chance after all.

-

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