#requestlesscakeuu

The neon sign above the discreet storefront flickered softly in the dimming twilight, casting a rosy glow over the rain-slicked sidewalk.

Pleasure Emporium, it read in elegant script, a far cry from the seedy dives you'd imagined when Beomgyu had reluctantly agreed to this outing. 

You'd dragged him here after days of playful nagging, your arguments laced with the impending shadow of his upcoming world tour—nine long months of empty beds and pixelated video calls that could never replicate the heat of his skin against yours. 

"Just one more," you'd pleaded over breakfast that morning, your foot tracing teasing circles under the table against his calf. "Something to keep me company while you're off charming the world."

Beomgyu had grumbled, his cheeks flushing that adorable pink you'd come to love, but he ended up caving in the end.

Now, as you pushed open the glass door, a soft chime announcing your arrival, you felt a thrill of mischief bubble up inside you. 

The shop was surprisingly upscale—polished wooden shelves lined with sleek packaging, soft ambient lighting that bathed everything in a warm, inviting hue, and the faint scent of vanilla wafting from hidden diffusers. No flashy fluorescent bulbs or awkward mannequins here as it was more like a boutique for intimate luxuries.

You glanced over at Beomgyu, who hovered just behind you, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his hoodie, the hood pulled low over his tousled dark hair as if it could shield him from the reality of where he was. 

His expressive, doe-like eyes that could command a stadium full of fans, darted everywhere but at the displays. They flicked to the ceiling, then to the floor, lingering on a potted plant in the corner before skittering away from a row of vibrators shaped like abstract art pieces. 

His shoulders were hunched, his usual confident swagger reduced to a hesitant shuffle, and you couldn't help the laugh that escaped your lips, light and affectionate.

"Gyu, relax," you whispered, looping your arm through his and tugging him deeper into the store. "It's not like we're robbing a bank. Look, they even have candles over there—totally innocent."

He shot you a sidelong glare, but there was no real heat in it, just that endearing mix of embarrassment and annoyance. 

"Easy for you to say," he muttered under his breath, his voice low enough that only you could hear it over the soft jazz playing in the background. "You're not the one who's gonna get recognized and end up on some fan forum as 'TXT’s Choi Beomgyu spotted buying... stuff.'"

His eyes darted again, this time landing briefly on a display of silk restraints before snapping away like he'd been burned. His free hand came up to rub the back of his neck, a nervous habit you'd seen during press conferences, but here it only amplified his discomfort.

You bit your lip to stifle another giggle, squeezing his arm reassuringly.

The shop was mostly empty—a couple browsing lotions in the far corner, a lone clerk behind the counter who gave you a polite nod without a hint of judgment. 

"Come on, Mr. Superstar," you teased, steering him toward the section you'd researched online: vibrators and couples' toys. "Think of it as research. For science—anatomy and what not"

Beomgyu's flush deepened, spreading from his cheeks to the tips of his ears, visible even under the hood. He let out a huffed breath, but he didn't pull away, his fingers intertwining with yours in a silent concession.

As you scanned the shelves, your eyes lit up at the variety. There were sleek vibrators with dual stimulation, app-controlled devices promising long-distance fun, and even some that looked like they belonged in a display case. 

You picked up a deep purple one, curved elegantly with a soft silicone finish, and held it up for his inspection.

"What about this? It has thrusting action and heats up. Perfect for those cold nights without you."

He glanced at it quickly, then away, his gaze landing on a harmless bottle of lube nearby as if it were the most fascinating thing in the world. 

"Yeah, sure, whatever," he mumbled, but you caught the way his throat bobbed, the subtle shift in his stance. 

Despite his embarrassment, there was a spark of curiosity in his eyes when they flickered back to the toy, remembering perhaps that afternoon weeks ago when he'd discovered your secret drawer and turned jealousy into an unforgettable shared experience.

You laughed again, the sound bubbling out freely this time, drawing a reluctant smile from him. "You're adorable when you're flustered, you know that?" 

Setting the toy back, you selected another—a wireless egg vibrator with a remote, imagining the teasing possibilities even after his return. But then your eyes landed on the one: a high-end rabbit with clitoral suction, multiple patterns, and that app feature for remote control. 

"This," you declared, holding it up triumphantly. "This is the one. You can control it from anywhere—think about it, Gyu. You on stage in Tokyo, me here... connected."

His eyes widened fractionally, darting from the toy to your face, then to the floor again.

"You're evil," he whispered, but there was a husky edge to his voice now, the embarrassment mingling with intrigue.

He nodded toward the counter, resigned. "Okay. Fine. Let's just buy it and get out before someone snaps a photo."

You beamed, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek before leading him to the register. The clerk rang it up efficiently, wrapping it in tissue paper and sliding it into a nondescript black bag. 

Beomgyu paid with cash—insisting on it to avoid any digital trail—and you stepped back out into the cool evening air, the bag swinging lightly from your hand.

As you walked to the car, you nudged him playfully. "See? That wasn't so bad. You survived."

He rolled his eyes, but his arm slipped around your waist, pulling you close. "Barely," he grumbled, though his thumb traced soothing circles on your hip.

The drive home was filled with your lighthearted chatter and his occasional quips, the tension from the shop easing into familiar comfort.

Back in your shared apartment, the familiar scents of home—fresh laundry and the lingering aroma of the takeout you'd had last night—welcomed you. You kicked off your shoes by the door, hanging your coat as Beomgyu did the same, his movements still a touch awkward, like the shop's atmosphere clung to him.

The black bag from Pleasure Emporium sat innocently on the coffee table, its contents still wrapped in tissue paper, but the air hummed with unspoken anticipation. You had teased him mercilessly in the car—about his flushed cheeks, his darting eyes, the way he'd hovered near the exit like a deer caught in headlights.

"You looked like you were about to bolt every time someone walked by," you laughed earlier, your hand on his thigh as he gripped the steering wheel a little too tightly.

Now, in the quiet sanctuary of home, that laughter had faded into something thicker, more charged, as you unpacked the toy under the warm lamp light, admiring its sleek design under the warm overhead light.

It was indigo, smooth to the touch, with buttons that promised a world of sensations. Beomgyu leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, watching you with a mix of amusement and skepticism. 

"You know, you're being ridiculous about this whole thing," he said finally, his voice breaking the comfortable silence. He pushed off the frame, sauntering closer, his dark hair falling into his eyes in that effortlessly charming way. "It's only a few months. It’s not like this is the first time I’m leaving for a tour. You'll be fine."

He reached over, plucking the indigo rabbit vibrator from your hands, turning it over with feigned disinterest. The silicone was velvety smooth under his fingertips, the curved shaft and clitoral stimulator promising sensations that made his mind wander despite his protests. 

"We've done longer separations before. You'll survive without... this." He gestured vaguely at the toy, but his eyes lingered on it a second too long, betraying the flicker of intrigue.

You shifted closer, your knee brushing his, the simple contact sending a spark up your leg. The apartment felt smaller somehow, the familiar scents of his citrus shampoo mingling with the faint vanilla from a candle you'd lit earlier, creating an intimate cocoon. 

"Survive?" you echoed, your tone light but edged with genuine frustration as you took the toy back, your fingers brushing his in a deliberate tease. "It's a few months without you, Gyu. Without waking up to your messy hair and that goofy morning smile. Without your hands on me, your voice whispering in my ear. I get it—your career, the fans, all that. But don't downplay how much I'll ache for you."

You paused, letting the words settle between you, your fingers still resting lightly against his chest where you could feel the quick, unsteady rhythm of his heartbeat.

The vulnerability in your voice lingered in the quiet air, and when you spoke again, it was softer, as if sharing a secret you'd both already half-known.

"And honestly? After catching you with my old one... I think you get it more than you're admitting."

His expression softened, the skepticism fading as he cupped your face, his thumbs brushing your cheeks. His eyes searched yours, and you saw the flicker of guilt, the understanding dawning. 

"Baby…" he murmured, leaning down to press his forehead against yours. The warmth of his breath fanned over your lips, sending a shiver down your spine. "I hate leaving too. You think I don't count down the days?"

His hands slid down to your waist, pulling you flush against him. You could feel the heat of his body, the subtle hardness already stirring from your proximity as he exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair, leaving it even more tousled. 

"Fine," he conceded, his dark eyes meeting yours with that intense stare that always made your pulse quicken. "If this helps... we'll try it together. Right now."

He leaned in, his breath warm against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. "I want to see exactly how this thing is supposed to satisfy you when I'm gone. But don't get too attached—I'm still better." 

His lips curved into a smirk, but there was a challenge in his words, a possessive glint in his eyes that promised this ‘test’ would be anything but objective.

Your heart raced as you nodded, standing and tugging him toward the bedroom. The hallway seemed longer in the dim light, each step building the tension like a slow-burning fuse. 

Once inside, you flicked on the bedside lamp, the soft golden glow illuminating the rumpled bed sheets from that morning—evidence of a hurried goodbye before your classes. 

Beomgyu plugged in the toy to charge, his movements efficient but deliberate. He watched you from the corner of his eye, his own hoodie coming off in one fluid motion, revealing the lean muscles of his arms and the way his t-shirt clung to his chest from the slight dampness of the evening air outside.

"Strip for me," he said softly, his voice carrying that commanding edge he reserved for moments like this.

You complied, peeling off your shirt slowly, letting the fabric drag against your skin as it fell to the floor. Your bra followed, and you felt his gaze like a physical touch, heating your exposed skin. Pants and underwear next, until you stood bare before him, the cool air raising goosebumps along your arms and thighs.

Beomgyu's eyes darkened, raking over you with unabashed hunger, but he held back, picking up his phone to sync the app. 

"Lie down," he instructed, his tone leaving no room for argument, though his hands trembled slightly as he adjusted the settings with a mix of nerves and excitement.

You settle onto the bed, the sheets cool against your back, propping yourself up on the pillows to watch him. He stripped down to his boxers, the outline of his arousal already evident, straining against the fabric. The sight made your mouth water, but you stayed put, letting him take the lead. 

He knelt between your parted legs, one hand trailing up your calf, his touch light and teasing, sending sparks straight to your core. 

"Spread wider," he murmured, his free hand testing the toy's buttons. A low hum filled the air as it vibrated to life on the lowest setting, the sound almost polite in the quiet room.

He started slowly, pressing the clitoral stimulator against your inner thigh first, letting you feel the gentle pulsations travel up your skin. You bit your lip, a soft gasp escaping as he inched it higher, the vibrations teasing the sensitive flesh just shy of where you needed it most. 

"Gyu..." you whispered, your hips shifting instinctively toward the sensation.

He smirked, his eyes locked on your face, studying every flicker of expression—the way your brows furrowed, your lips parted on a breath.

"Tell me how it feels," he said, his voice low and rough, as he finally pressed it against your clit. 

The suction kicked in gently, a rhythmic pull that mimicked the warmth of his mouth, combined with the vibrations that sent jolts of pleasure radiating outward. Your back arched slightly, a moan slipping out as the dual sensations hit you.

It was different—mechanical yet precise, building a steady pressure without the variability of human touch.

"Good... it's good," you managed, your fingers clutching the sheets. 

Beomgyu adjusted the app on his phone, increasing the intensity a notch, and the thrusting shaft came to life, curving slightly as he guided it toward your entrance. He teased the tip against you, the warmth from the heating feature surprising you, making it feel almost lifelike. 

"More," you breathed, and he obliged, sliding it in slowly, inch by inch, until it filled you completely. 

The internal vibrations synced with the external suction, creating a symphony of pleasure that had your toes curling. Beomgyu watched intently, his own breathing growing ragged. 

"Fuck, you look incredible," he muttered, one hand leaving the toy to trace patterns on your stomach, dipping lower to circle your navel. Jealousy fought with arousal in his expression as he observed how this device was doing things to you, making you writhe and gasp without him—but it also fueled him. 

He leaned down, capturing a nipple in his mouth, sucking gently in time with the toy's rhythm. The added sensation of his tongue, warm and wet, pushed you higher, your hips bucking against the vibrator. He pulled back slightly, his lips glistening, eyes dark with desire. 

"Does it feel like me?" he asked, a hint of challenge in his tone as he ramped up the thrusting using the app. The shaft moved in steady, deliberate strokes, hitting that spot inside you with unerring accuracy.

"No... not exactly," you panted, reaching for him. "It's... consistent, but you're... you're warmer, rougher. I need your hands, your mouth." 

Your words seemed to spur him on; he set the phone aside, taking full manual control, twisting the toy slightly to change the angle, drawing a sharp cry from you.

"Good," he growled, his free hand sliding between your bodies to rub circles around where the toy met your skin, amplifying everything. "Because this is just a toy. I'm the one who knows your body." 

He kissed down your neck, nipping at your collarbone, leaving faint marks that would remind you of him later. The room filled with the sounds of your moans, the low buzz of the vibrator, and his whispered encouragement.

"That's it, baby. Let go for me."

The build was relentless, the suction pulling you toward the edge while the internal thrusts pushed you over. Your vision blurred, muscles tensing as the orgasm crashed through you, waves of ecstasy rippling from your core outward, leaving you trembling and breathless. 

Beomgyu eased the toy out gently, turning it off and setting it aside, then gathered you into his arms, his lips pressing soft kisses to your forehead.

"Satisfied?" he asked, his voice smug but tender, his fingers tracing lazy circles on your back as you caught your breath.You nodded against his chest, the afterglow warming you from within. 

"It was intense... but it's not you, Gyu. Nothing replaces this." You gestured vaguely between you, the intimacy of skin on skin, heartbeats syncing.

He chuckled, the sound vibrating through his chest. "of course it doesn’t" 

But as you lay there, entwined, he picked up his phone again, fiddling with the app.

“We should test the patterns. All of them. Just to be thorough." His eyes sparkled with mischief, and you laughed, knowing the night was far from over.

The testing stretched on, each new setting a discovery. He started with the pulsating pattern—a rhythmic throb that mimicked a heartbeat, slow and teasing. You guided his hand this time, showing him how to angle it just right, your moans guiding his adjustments. 

"Like that... yes," you whispered, your head falling back against the pillows as he kissed along your jawline, his breath hot and uneven.

Beomgyu's arousal was impossible to ignore now, pressing insistently against your thigh as he focused on you.

“You're so wet," he murmured, his voice strained, slipping a finger alongside the toy to feel for himself. The added fullness made you gasp, your nails digging into his shoulders. 

He groaned at the sight, his control fraying. "Fuck, I could watch you like this all night."

But he didn't stop there. 

Switching to a wave pattern, the vibrations rolled in building surges, like ocean tides pulling you under. He held you through it, his mouth on yours, swallowing your cries as another climax built, slower this time, more profound. 

"Come on, baby," he urged, his thumb pressing against your clit outside the toy's suction. The combination shattered you again, leaving you limp and glowing. 

Hours blurred as you explored—him using the app to surprise you with random intensities, you taking turns controlling it on him briefly, just to hear his ragged breaths and see his eyes flutter shut.

 "See? It's not so bad," you teased, pressing it against his length through his boxers, watching him buck into the sensation.

"Cheater," he panted, flipping you onto your stomach for the next round, the toy now pressed from behind while his body covered yours, his lips at your ear whispering filthy praises. 

The position changed everything, the thrusts hitting deeper, the suction pulling harder, and you came with his name on your lips, his arms the only thing grounding you. By the time the sky brightened with the approaching dawn, the toy lay discarded on the nightstand, battery drained. 

You'd lost count of the orgasms, the laughs shared between gasps, the tender moments when he'd pull back to check on you, ensuring it was pleasure, not overwhelm. Beomgyu held you close, your bodies slick with sweat, hearts pounding in unison.

"Okay, maybe it's not ridiculous," he admitted softly, kissing your temple. "But when I'm gone... use it and think of me. And when I get back? We'll break it in properly—together."

One evening, after a grueling rehearsal just a few weeks before Beomgyu had to leave, he came home exhausted, dark circles under his eyes, but the moment he saw you with the toy charging, a spark ignited. 

"Again?" he asked, a tired smile playing on his lips as he shed his practice clothes.

"Pattern number seven," you replied, pulling him into the shower first, the hot water cascading over you both as you lathered him up, your hands exploring the familiar planes of his body. 

Under the steam, you pressed the toy against him experimentally, the waterproof feature a delightful discovery. He braced against the tile, head bowed, water dripping from his hair as vibrations coursed through him. 

A low, broken groan rumbled from his chest, hips jerking forward on instinct as the steady buzz traveled up the underside of his cock. You kept it there, watching the way his long fingers splayed against the wet wall, knuckles whitening.

“Shit—baby—” His voice cracked, already wrecked.

Water streamed down the tense line of his back, tracing rivulets over the dip of his spine, the curve of his ass. You stepped closer, pressing your breasts to his back, nipples hard against his slick skin, and reached around to wrap your free hand loosely around his shaft. 

The toy stayed pinned beneath your palm, vibrating through both your grip and his length, every pulse made him twitch inside your fingers as you kissed the back of his shoulder. 

“Feels good?” you whispered, sliding the toy slowly upward until the suction cup kissed the flushed head. He hissed, hips snapping forward into your hand.

“Too good,” he panted. “Gonna—fuck—gonna come if you keep—”

You pulled the toy away just as his thighs started to shake. He spun so fast the water sprayed in an arc, eyes were darkening, hair plastered to his forehead. 

“Your turn,” he growled, voice gravel-rough from restraint.

Beomgyu took the toy from your fingers, spun you around, and pinned you chest-first against the cool tile. The sudden contrast made you gasp—cold ceramic on overheated skin. He kicked your feet wider apart, one thigh sliding between yours to spread you open. 

Water pounded against your back as he pressed himself flush behind you, cock hard and leaking against the small of your back. He dragged the toy down your stomach first, letting the vibrations tease your navel, then lower, circling your clit without mercy, the suction attached instantly, pulling a sharp cry from your throat.

At the same moment, he notched himself at your entrance and pushed in, stretching you open while the toy kept working your clit in relentless pulses. You both moaned at the same time.

The dual fullness was obscene. 

His thick length sliding deep, hot and alive inside you, while the toy’s internal arm curved up to press against your front wall in perfect counterpoint to his thrusts.

Every time he bottomed out, the toy’s vibrations traveled through him too, through the thin wall separating you, making his rhythm stutter and his hips slamming harder.

“Feel that?” he rasped against your ear, one arm banded around your waist to hold you steady, the other guiding the toy with devastating precision. “That’s both of us. Me, fucking you and this thing humming right where I hit that spot you love.”

You couldn’t speak.

 Only broken sounds—whimpers, gasps, his name—fell from your lips as the water cascaded over you both, amplifying every wet slap of skin, every slick glide, every low buzz that seemed to echo inside your skull. He changed the pattern mid-thrust—short, sharp pulses that made your knees buckle. He caught you, forearm flexing as he pinned you tighter to the wall. 

“Don’t you dare come yet,” he warned, voice strained. “Not until I say so.”

But he was suffering too. You could feel it in the way his cock throbbed inside you, the way his breathing turned ragged against your neck. He was close—dangerously close—and still tried to edge you both.

You reached back, nails digging into his hip. “Then come with me,” you begged. “Please—Gyu—together—”

Something in him snapped. 

He slammed the toy’s intensity to maximum—thrusting arm pistoning fast and deep, suction clamping down hard on your clit—and fucked into you with punishing strokes.

The angle was brutal, perfect, every drive forcing the toy deeper, grinding it against that swollen spot inside while the external stim never let up.

You shattered first. The orgasm hit like a shockwave—blinding, ripping through your core and clamping down so hard around him that he choked on a curse. Your walls fluttered and spasmed, milking him, pulling him under with you. 

He buried himself to the hilt, hips jerking erratically as he came—hot pulses flooding you while the toy kept buzzing through both your climaxes, drawing out every aftershock until you were both trembling, oversensitive, clinging to each other under the spray.

He fumbled the toy off with shaking fingers, letting it clatter to the shower floor.

His arms wrapped around you fully now, turning you so you faced him. Foreheads pressed together, breaths mingling with steam, he kissed you slow and filthy—tongue sliding against yours like he was trying to taste the pleasure he’d just wrung from you.

When you finally pulled back, water still pouring over you both, he rested his forehead against yours again.

“Send me videos when I’m gone,” he murmured desperately. “I want to see your face when you use it. I want to hear you say my name while it’s inside you.”

You laughed, breathless, fingers threading through his soaked hair. “Only if you do the same. I want to watch you fall apart thinking about me.”

A few nights after that, you found yourself testing again but this time, blindfolds were incorporated to heighten your senses.

With silk over your eyes, every touch was electric—the toy's approach a surprise, his fingers trailing fire in its wake. 

"Guess what's next," he'd tease, switching patterns mid-stroke, drawing out your pleasure until you begged.

Then roles reversed, him blindfolded, your voice guiding him, the app in your hands as you controlled the intensity from across the room, watching him writhe.

The silk blindfold was still knotted loosely around his head when you straddled his hips, the toy pressed lightly against the underside of his cock through the thin fabric of his boxers. He hissed through his teeth, hips jerking up instinctively, chasing the vibration even as his hands flexed uselessly against the headboard where you'd told him to keep them.

You leaned down, lips brushing the shell of his ear. 

"Remember the first time you found my little secret in the drawer?" Your voice was low, teasing, laced with mock innocence. "You were so curious... so possessive. Muttering to yourself about how I didn't need it when I had you right there."

Beomgyu let out a choked laugh that quickly melted into a groan as you nudged the toy higher, letting the lowest setting buzz right against the sensitive head.

"Don't—fuck—don't start with that now," he managed, voice strained, but the flush creeping down his neck told you he was already half-gone.

"Oh, but I think about it all the time, baby" you continued, dragging the toy in slow, lazy circles, watching the way his abs tensed and his thighs trembled. 

"You, legs spread on our bed, sweatpants shoved down just enough, holding my vibrator against yourself like it owed you answers. Panting. Swearing at me even though I wasn't even there." 

You clicked the intensity up one notch. His whole body arched, a rough sound tearing from his throat. "You were so close when I walked in. Lips parted, cheeks flushed, whispering 'shouldn't even need it—got me right fucking here' like the toy personally offended you."

You clicked the app to the next setting—short, sharp pulses—and pressed it firmer against him. The fabric darkened where precome leaked through.

“Admit it,” you whispered, dragging the toy in lazy figure-eights now, watching the muscles in his stomach jump with every pass. “You liked it. Liked how precise it was. How it didn’t get tired. How it made you leak all over your hand while you imagined me watching.”

He turned his head toward your voice, blindfold slipping slightly, cheeks burning crimson even in the dim light. “I—shit—I was jealous, okay? Thought about you coming on it without me and it drove me insane.”

You rewarded the confession by sliding his boxers down just enough to free him, his cock springing up, flushed dark and glistening at the tip.

You let the toy hover for a teasing second before pressing the vibrating shaft along the underside, letting it nestle right where the head met the shaft, the same spot he’d discovered months ago.

Beomgyu’s entire body locked up, a broken moan tore out of him, hips snapping up instinctively.

“There it is,” you purred, keeping the pressure steady while you stroked him slowly with your free hand, matching the toy’s rhythm. “Same place you had it pressed that day. Same setting you stole from me. Second level, right? The one that makes your toes curl and your eyes roll back.”

He was panting now, blindfold damp at the corners from how hard he was clenching his eyes shut beneath it.

“You’re evil,” he gasped, but his hips rolled shamelessly into every stroke, chasing both your hand and the relentless buzz. “Evil—and I fucking love it.”

You laughed softly, leaning down to lick a slow stripe up the side of his neck. “You loved it then too. Loved the idea of me walking in and seeing you like this—desperate, shameless, using my toy like it was yours to begin with.” 

He swallowed hard, blindfold hiding his eyes but not the way his mouth fell open on a silent moan. 

"You—ngh—you never let me live that down, do you?"

"Would you want me to?" You leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth before trailing your lips down his jaw. "It was the hottest thing I've ever seen. My boyfriend—Choi Beomgyu, idol heartthrob—jealous of a piece of silicone. Stealing my toy to jerk off with it because he couldn't stand the idea of me getting off without him."

You crawled up his body until you were straddling his hips, the toy still humming in your hand, pressing it lightly against your own clit for a second, just long enough to let him hear the wet sound of it against you, then dragged it down his length again, slicking him with your arousal.

“Look how wet you made me just talking about it,” you whispered, guiding the toy so the curved shaft slid along his cock while the external stimulator nudged the sensitive frenulum. “All because you were such a greedy boy with my vibrator months ago.”

His hips jerked hard, a string of curses falling from his lips. “I’m sorry—fuck—I’m sorry I snooped—I just—wanted to feel what you feel—”

Smiling against his jaw, you kissed the corner of his mouth. “I know. And I love that you did.” 

You finally pressed the toy flush against him again both in full contact and power, stroking him fast and firm with your hand wrapped around both shaft and vibrator.

“Come for me, baby,” you breathed. “Come the same way you did that day—thinking about me, jealous and needy and so fucking hard you couldn’t think straight.”

He broke with a shout of your name, back bowing off the mattress, hips snapping up as he spilled hot and thick over his stomach and your fingers.

The toy kept buzzing through his orgasm, drawing out every shudder, every aftershock, until he was trembling and oversensitive and gasping for mercy.

Only then did you switch it off, tossing it aside and yanking the blindfold free.

His eyes—dark, glassy, wrecked—locked onto yours immediately. He surged up, crashing his mouth against yours in a messy, desperate kiss, hands tangling in your hair like he needed to anchor himself to you.

When you finally broke apart, both panting, he rested his forehead against yours, voice hoarse.

“I hate you.”

“You love me.”

“…Yeah.” He sighed, arms tightening around you. “I really fucking do.”

As departure neared, the sessions grew more emotional—each one quieter, slower, laced with the unspoken weight of goodbye.

On the final night, his luggage stood packed by the door. The bedroom was dim, lit only by the soft glow of the bedside lamp and the city bleeding through the curtains.

Beomgyu pulled you onto the bed without a word, the indigo toy left forgotten on the nightstand. 

No games tonight. No blindfolds, no apps, no teasing edges.

Just skin on skin.

He undressed you with reverent hands, kissing every inch he uncovered as if committing it to memory: the curve of your shoulder, the dip of your waist, the sensitive spot behind your knee that always made you shiver. 

When he finally settled between your thighs and slid inside you, your breath caught at the familiar stretch, the heat, the way he filled you completely without need for anything else.

No rush.

No performance.

He moved like he had all the time in the world, deep and unhurried, hips rolling in the rhythm you both knew by heart. His forehead pressed to yours, breaths mingling, eyes locked even in the low light.

Every sigh you gave, he answered with a soft kiss.

Every tremble that ran through you, he absorbed with his palms smoothing down your sides, grounding you.

“I love you,” he whispered against your lips, voice rough with everything he wasn’t saying.

You cupped his face, thumbs brushing the faint shadows under his eyes—marks of late rehearsals and longer goodbyes. 

“I love you too,” you breathed. “Always.”

He buried his face in the crook of your neck as the pleasure built quiet and inevitable, less fireworks and more slow-burning tide. You both came together in soft gasps, clinging hands, a shared shudder that felt like a promise carved into bone.

Afterward he didn’t pull away. He stayed inside you, softening slowly, arms wrapped tight around your back as if he could hold time still. 

His lips found your temple.