oh my god, shit. i see myself in you.

🚫 this is my do not send list 🚫

choking + throat-fucking

hair-pulling [at least on reader’s behalf]

spanking

d*ddy kinks

anything involving bodily fluid that isnt cum

the sweetness of strawberries and cream from the shortcake the two of you shared is still lingering on your lips. the same way mingyu's hand lingered on your thigh for the drive home, fingers inching a little higher over time before dropping back to rest at your knee. he didn't look at you, eyes always on the road, always so dutiful to you as he keeps you safe in every way he can. he didn't kiss you anywhere until the elevator doors slid shut, not content to hold out until the two of you were back in your home. his hands run down your hips as he stands behind you, one kiss after another being planted down your neck.

when the elevator doors open again, you bolt. he's left there for a moment, dumbfounded until he sees the cheeky grin you flash him before heading home. and then he's smiling, too, all but chasing after you as you return home. you get the door open before he's there, and he's the one who kicks it closed as he shrugs his bag off his shoulder and onto the floor. your back ends up against the wall as mingyu captures your lips with his own, a hand curled around the back of your head as though to soften any accidental blow. he's gentle with you now, just gracing with you a series of soft, sweet, short kisses that leave you wanting more.

you want to tease him a little, to be honest. he's so entirely obvious from the moment he said that "let's go home, okay?" to you, the look in his eyes giving him away entirely. yet he'd been so tender with you, feeding you dessert as you let him spoil you for once. instead, you just reach up and yank him back to you, deepening the kiss yourself. he smiles against your lips for a split second before he responds in kind, hitching one of your thighs around him as he presses himself against you. you fumble with the buttons on his shirt, and he bares your shoulders as he pushes the small sleeves of your dress down them. it's the smallest action, but it still makes you shiver a little.

you end up kicking off your heels and leaving mingyu there, watching you as you walk away. when you turn back with that same confident smile, he looks like he'll drop to his knees right then and there. he's a man obsessed, and he trips over himself to follow after you again, bewitched mind and soul by your siren song. he captures you in his arms when he sees you waiting for him, and lifts you just those few inches to get you onto your bed. your skirt flutters around you, falling over the top of your thighs as he looks down at you. he's devouring you with his eyes right now, a hand slipping underneath the skirt. the semi-opaque tights you're wearing feel like nothing now, but mingyu's careful when he hooks his fingers around the waistband. he tugs them off slowly, careful not to rip the material. it's sturdy enough to cover you, but flimsy enough that mishandling it has ripped a pair before. you should know: mingyu's done it twice before in a hurried rush to get to you.

it doesn't happen every time, but this time you think mingyu wants to take his time with you. he drops your tights off to the side, fingers grazing over your clothed slip for barely a second. then he reaches up, hand cupping your face as he leans in to plant a soft kiss against your lips. it's too short for your liking, but his tender way of showing his love without words. his hands push the skirt of your dress up to expose you to him more, and he toys with the band of your underwear for a moment.

"you're so pretty, you know."

his head jerks up at your words, mouth falling open for a second before his face scrunches up in a flustered joy you've always found beautiful on him. "this is your day," he says, squeezing your hips. "not mine."

you let your head fall back onto the mattress. "i can't compliment my gyu?"

"your gyu," he reaches up a hand to find and squeeze yours, "is trying to seduce you."

you raise a brow. "trying?"

"and succeeding," he chuckles. his hand drops yours, and your breath hitches a little when he runs his thumb along the cloth covering you again. "i can feel how wet you are for me, you know."

you rest your hands over your stomach. "says the man who would have eaten me out right by the river if no one was around to see."

"you had your dessert," he tugs your underwear off slowly. "should i have mine?"

something about the way he says it both turns you on and sends you into a fit of laughter. you roll away from him, hiding your face with your hand. you've seen mingyu when he wants to be hot and possessive, the leading man in your life. but he's trying too hard now, and the way he laughs, too, tells you that he knows he's trying too hard.

"you're so mean!" he squeezes your thighs, fingers digging into your skin, and yanks you back into place. "is this revenge?" he's grinning at you, no offense taken from this little ordeal. "for earlier? you always outshine me, you know."

ah, yes. his little claim that he dressed plainly so he wouldn't outshine you on your own day. what a gracious boyfriend.

but he pushes his fingers between your folds, and it earns a quick gasp from you. he glances up, pausing just long enough to check on you. when you push against him, he's smiling again and pushing his fingers into you. his thumb circles your clit in slow, taunting circles. it earns a whimper from you, but he moves so that he can kiss you proper while slowly thrusting his fingers into you. you reach up, a hand curling around the back of his neck as you draw him in. you always find yourself playing with the hair at the back of his neck or running your fingers into his hair. he speeds up, just enough to make you jerk against his touch, and you feel the way he smiles when he draws back and plants kiss after kiss against your neck.

"you're so beautiful," he murmurs against your skin. "i love that you're mine."

he plants only a few more kisses down your neck before you squeeze your eyes shut, pushing against his hand again. "mingyu, i—"

he plants one last, soft kiss against your lips before he draws back. "i know."

he pulls his fingers out of you, separating your folds before immediately moving in to lick your clit. he's gentle at first, just alternating between quick licks and kisses around your clit to rile you up further. your breath hitches, and you slip a hand down into his hair to pull his head closer to you. it's a desperate move, already needy beyond thought, but you do need him now. ever since he started undressing you with his eyes during the picnic, the thought of having him now hasn't left your mind. he pushes your thighs further open, fingers digging into your skin as he begins to suck on your clit, harder this time.

the two of you know how quiet you tend to be, but his hands tighten when he hears you let out a moan. he sucks harder, and your mind goes blank as you rut against him. you squeeze your eyes shut again, thighs quivering as mingyu continues to kiss and suck and lick until you're writhing and panting underneath him.

his voice is low when he draws back, fingers rubbing your clit hard and fast, just to see your face. "my pretty baby..." he chuckles. "you can come for me. i want to see your pretty face when you do."

you hit your peak with a quiet cry, and mingyu coaxes you through it with soft words and gentle kisses against your thighs. you just lay there, panting quietly as you come down from your orgasm. you run your fingers through his hair, chest slowly rising and falling. mingyu moves, climbing on top of you as he plants soft kisses against your neck.

"can i take this off?" he tugs at the fabric bunched around your hips. "i want to see you."

you nod, arching up so that mingyu can reach behind you and slowly drag down the zipper. your dress falls slack around you, and you lift your hips when mingyu prompts you to. he tosses your dress aside with a soft apology—he'll take care of it properly later—as he leans back for just a moment. he unclips your bra, too, and tosses it aside as he just sits there and admires you.

"my angel..." he chuckles. he's going to pull out every term of endearment, you think: this is sappy mingyu who worships you wholeheartedly. he reaches up, caressing your cheek before dropping his hand down to touch your skin. he traces down your neck and down the side of your breast, a tender look in his eyes as he looks you over. "you're so soft."

your breath hitches, and you ache for him to touch you.

"you like that?" he chuckles again. "i think you're a masterpiece." his hands run down your sides, stopping just to rest at your hips for a moment. then he draws them back, just long enough for him to shrug off his open shirt. he lets it fall, and then slides a hand between your legs again. he's gentle this time, fully aware of how much you can take, as he touches your clit again.

when you whimper, he just smiles. "those noises are so cute. you're always so quiet..." he traces slow circles again. "i like being the one who gets to hear you."

the way he talks to you is so tender, and you actually let out another pleased hum at the way he's touching you. "mingyu..."

"i love you," he says, leaning in to kiss your forehead. "you're so smart," he plants another against your cheek, "and you're so sweet..." another against your neck. "you're amazing," he draws one of your thighs over him as he presses himself against you. the rough feeling of fabric isn't comfortable in the slightest, but you can feel how hard he is now. "do you remember the day we met?"

you nod, but you know where he's going with this anyway. "movie theater..."

he chuckles. "i was with my friends," he reaches down, unbuckling his belt. "and you were with yours..." mingyu sets the belt aside, and he holds your face for a moment. "and you kept looking at me in the lobby after the movie, because i kept laughing during the entire time..."

"you were so loud," you lean into his touch.

"cheol had to shove me over to you." he chuckles. "because i saw you, and..." he trails off, going quiet. "and i fell in love."

"at first sight?" you tease him a little. this part is new to you. "didn't know you were that sappy, mingyu."

"i don't think it was love at first sight," he says. "but i can't remember a time where i didn't love you. everywhere you go, you light up the room. you're like sunlight to me." mingyu draws back, just looking down at you for a moment. "you're my world," he says. "you make me a better person."

you don't know what to say, face burning at how earnest he can be and so easily when it comes to you. you just reach up, pushing back a strand of hair from his face. "i love you," is all that comes up when you push for words, trying to find something, anything to say.

he leans in, kissing you again. when he draws back, he's smiling. "tell me how you want me, honey." mingyu pulls away from you, pushing his pants off and kicking them away. when he pulls off his boxers, you watch the way his cock hits his stomach. he's fully erect for you, a bead of precum at his tip now.

you could do whatever you want with him now. it's your day, your decision, and he'd go along with it. you see yourself taking him from behind, putting that strap-on to use again (and, fuck—if it didn't exhaust you, you would). but you just draw him in for another kiss. you can feel exactly how hard he is, and you roll the two of you over so that you're on top.

"wrists up, pretty boy."

his eyes are twinkling already. he knew this was on the table, and he's excited. but you ignore his belt, too thick and clunky for you to use comfortably this time. you've made do with it before (hotel room, no ties or handcuffs), but the two of you are home now. you reach into your bedside drawer, feeling around for one of the silk ties there. with that and a condom snagged, you turn your attention back to mingyu. he raises his wrists for you, and you wrap the silk around them until its securely tied. he gives a quick tug against the restraint, just to ensure that its tight enough—yet not painful—for him.

you rest yourself on his thighs, reaching down to stroke his cock. "you're gorgeous yourself, you know."

"today isn't about me," he says. "it's your birthday."

"and?" you continue to stroke him slowly, just to feel the way he bites his bottom lip. "i can't appreciate my love on my day? aren't you mine?" you reach up a hand, cupping his cheek. "hm?"

he leans into your touch. "i'm yours," he says, breathier than before as you tighten your grasp around his cock. "always."

"then i should be allowed to appreciate what's mine. at least a little," you smile at him. "you're always so good to me."

"you deserve it—"

you shake your head, and he lets out a grunt when you tighten your grasp again. "today was wonderful," you say. "the picnic, the food... and being with you."

"honey," you see him jerk against his restraints. "i don't think i'll last."

you just cup his cheek for a moment, leaning over so that you can give him one long kiss against his lips. after rolling the condom down his length, you move, raising yourself above him. you line him up before slowly sinking down, taking him in inch by inch. mingyu's head falls back, letting out a happy sigh now that you're around him again.

at first, you just sit, getting used to feeling him inside you again. every time you ride him, you always find yourself like this: unable to move, just feeling every inch of him inside of you. you clench around him, and it earns a quiet hiss from him in response. slowly, you begin to roll your hips against him, finding a rhythm as you begin to ride him. every grunt and gasp from mingyu only spurs you on more, one hand resting against his chest while you rub your clit with the other. its all too easy to get lost in fucking mingyu, especially when he starts to beg for you to fuck him. he knows you love to hear him. where you aren't vocal, he is. always grunting and gasping and groaning, swearing under his breath.

"i need you," his voice is hoarse. "please—"

for once, you end up moaning as you ride him. mingyu jerks against his restraints again, the need to hold you stronger. you draw him to you, kissing him hard as you continue to bounce in his lap. he turns his face, just enough that you can hear him speak:

"bite me."

and who were you to deny such a sweet request? you kiss his neck once, twice, and then bite down in the crook of his neck. he moans loudly (like a whore, you want to say—but you'll save that for the next night the two of you get more intense), but it doesn't stop you. you'll mark him up properly in time. you just feel the way your thighs quiver, orgasm fast approaching. you can imagine the way mingyu would be grabbing at you now, palming your breasts, your ass. every inch of skin he could get his hands on.

your head tips back when you come again, clenching down hard around him. the only thing that you can wrap your head around now is the way mingyu cries when he hits his climax, loud enough that you swear your ears ring a little. you aren't even thinking as you continue to roll your hips through it all, whimpering quietly. the sensitivity becomes too much, and you slow to a stop, burying your face into his neck. you trace a finger over the bite mark left behind. you blindly reach until you find his wrists, tugging at the silk tie until it comes loose. as soon as it does, mingyu is holding you against him, pressing kisses against the side of your head.

"pretty girl," he coos, "you look so pretty when you come."

you don't say anything, just peppering kisses against him. mingyu pulls you off of him, and you're a ragdoll in his arms as he rolls you onto your back. but you still have energy, a growing need to take him again. the aftershocks of your orgasm stop you, though.

"mingyu..." you reach for him as he gets up. "need you—"

he just takes your hand, kissing your knuckles before letting it go. "let me get you some water first," he says. "and then... round two?"

if he had to define your sexual relationship with one another, it'd admittedly be more on the vanilla side of things. the most either of you have ever explored is one taking a more dominant role over the other (usually seungcheol), and sometimes there can be things like begging and commands involved. it's not the kinkiest, but it's what works to get both of you off... plus seungcheol admittedly worries about slipping up and saying the wrong thing at the wrong time and genuinely hurting you. that's why he peppers you with kisses and sweet words no matter how things go.

but tonight you had turned to him earlier while the two of you were eating dinner, and you had asked him if you could try something new.

"it depends on what it is," he had said over dinner, cross-legged on the couch as the two of you watch tv. "so? what are you thinking about?"

"i wanna be in charge again," you aren't eating, gaze averted as you admit to it. that part isn't entirely new for the two of you. but you finally level your gaze at him a moment later. "and... um... i wanna use the restraints, if that's okay."

they're only silk ties that you used once before you decided you hated having your wrists restrained. seungcheol untied you that day, tossed the silk tie into a drawer, and went right back to pleasuring you while your fingers grew lost in his hair. he'd offhandedly commented a few times about maybe experimenting with them on him, but neither of you had broached the subject.

until now, at least, because now he's entirely at your mercy. his wrists are secured against the headboard of your bed, and he's just gazing at you as you slowly stroke his cock. his breath hitches again, and he knows this is you enjoying the power you have over him. you've jerked him off before, you know exactly what he likes, and all he can do is grit his teeth and pray that you'll have mercy on him. if it gets to be too much, he'll mumble the safeword and tell you, but...

admittedly, the wicked look in your eyes is more of a turn-on than he ever knew it'd be.

he swallows hard, unable to tear his eyes away from you. "pretty." the word rolls off his tongue all too easily now.

your gaze flickers up to his face. "hm?"

"you're pretty," seungcheol says, his voice still strained as he resists the urge to jerk into your hand. "i..." you squeeze him, and he bites his lip to resist a gasp. "fuck."

and then you giggle, because you know exactly what you're doing to him. you hand strokes him a little faster now, an evil glimmer in your eye as you watch him. "what's wrong?" you tilt your head just to add to it. "cheollie?"

"please..." he doesn't know what's going to kill him first between your sweet voice or your touch. "i need you."

"need me for what?" yet you wait until he opens his mouth to tighten your grip around him, just enough to earn a moan from him. again, there's that mischievous giggle. "you're so cute, cheollie. i think i like you like this."

his eyes squeeze shut. "honey, please..." he doesn't know what he needs most. to be inside you, or your mouth on him, or just for you to jerk him off so he can feel some relief. this is torture of the sweetest kind, a hell he'll dive into over and over again if you'll be the one guiding him there with that enchantingly wicked hand.

you stop for a moment, and before he can beg again, your lips are on him. then you stroke him again, faster than before as you jerk him off eagerly now. he groans into your mouth, heart hammering in his chest as you kiss him deeper. when you pull your mouth again, planting an hot kiss against his neck, he knows you want to hear him loud and clear. so he moans your name, still putty in your hands, as you tighten your grasp around him the way he likes it. he thinks he tries to warn you when he's close, but time melts into this puddle of heavy lust that clouds everything. the only thing he can smell is whatever perfume or cologne you put on earlier as it masks everything.

he's begging you without even thinking, though, and he can tell from that soft chuckle that you're living for it. all he needs is for you to say yes, to tell him he can, and he'll let go.

and so you give him permission, and he thinks your words are heaven in their own way. when he comes, it's relief in its purest form as he's left panting while painting your hand with his cum. his head lulls back a little, chest heaving. then he pulls against his restraints without thinking, the need to hold you stronger than anything else. seungcheol pouts when he realizes it, but you're just sitting there, staring at him adoringly. you reach up your other hand, cupping his face as you smile.

"did that help?" you ask softly. when he just blinks at you, you elaborate while you grab tissues from your bedside box to clean him up with, "you seemed stressed. i... thought this could help. but i knew you wouldn't tell me what's going on, so..."

he does feel more relaxed, now that he's thinking about it. "can you untie me?"

"oh! right, let me just..."

you wipe his cum onto the other tissues and then move to untie his wrists. he rubs them just a little, slightly aching from jerking against them, before he goes to draw you in for a kiss. you dodge back, though, shaking your head.

"i don't need anything tonight, honey," you say. "okay?"

he stares at you for a moment. these nights aren't uncommon, to be fair: sometimes he's too tired for sex, sometimes you are, but... it almost feels a little unfair for you to pleasure him this time. especially considering the fact you had the motive to help clear his head and help him relax.

"are you sure?" he asks, hands resting at your waist. "i don't mind doing whatever you need."

you shake your head again. "really," you promise. "i'm okay. you can make it up to me next time, okay?"

seungcheol just draws you in for a kiss, smiling into it. "i will," he promises. "but..."

"but?"

"do you feel up for a shower?" he asks, innocently enough. "i like talking to you."

it earns a snort from you, and you peck his lips again before hopping off the bed. "then i'll get the water started."

"honey?" he calls out before you can get too far. he runs a hand through his hair, smiling at you again. "i love you."

and you just give him this cheeky grin in return. "i know."

he knows you too well. he knows what flavor of ice cream to pick up for you when you're on your period or just having a particularly rough day. he knows which brand of deodorant you prefer, what bottle of perfume is your favorite, which of his own colognes drives you mad. he knows which shelf you keep your most favorite mugs on, and the way that its always pushed just out of reach by accident--so he gets it for you instead, even if he has to reach extra far, because it allows him to dote on you a little. and though he doesn't cook for you, he knows your favorite breakfast after a rough night with him.

but he knows your body, too. he knows the way to rub your clit to get you off the fastest. the way you enjoy cockwarming sometimes just to feel closer to him. the fact that your scalp is too sensitive, and that even it being tugged on by something else (a zipper, or getting caught in, well, anything) can be enough to make you cry. he's seen the way your eyes flutter shut, always right before you moan and run a hand through his hair as he eats you out. you aren't loud by any means, but he could drown in between your thighs if it meant he can hear that pretty moan again.

and he knows you aren't someone who likes too much pain. your wrists are bound over your head as he fucks into you hard and rough (your request that night--and who is he to say no?). all it takes is him seeing the way you wince among your gasps and pleased hums for him to know he's going too deep.

you don't even have to say something. he throws one of your legs over his shoulder, and continues to fuck you, making sure he's not hitting as deep as before. and that pain disappears from your face as you whimper his name.

truly, it makes him a little cocky. he knows your body perfectly. he takes your hand, pressing a kiss against the palm of it, and pins your other thigh down against the bed.

"good girl," he coos, just to feel the way you clench around him hard. "gonna cum for me, pretty?"

all you do is whimper underneath him, and he chuckles. you can't even speak anymore. fuck, you're hot. despite any imperfection you think you have, vernon thinks you're a masterpiece.

he slows down when you orgasm around him, always making the softest, prettiest sounds. he'd put them in one of those tracks he makes for fun if he could, just to keep between the two of you. no one else gets to hear you (not without your permission, at least, and even then... vernon doesn't like the idea of sharing you with just anyone).

he sees the way you pull at the tie binding your wrist. "you okay, baby?"

you whimper again, already oh so sensitive underneath him. the fact he's still thrusting into you doesn't help. "kiss..."

even now, your voice is quiet and a little more strained than before. but he chuckles, leaning in to give you what you want. that's something he's always liked about you, if he's honest: no matter how rough the two of you get with one another (a rare occurrence, truly), you always crave his kisses and seek them out... even when you can't pull him in yourself.

when he pulls back, he holds your face, thumb running along your jaw. "want me to untie you?"

you shake your head. "i can wait. just... be gentle?"

his cock twitches inside of you, and he shuts his eyes. fuck, he loves and hates when you use that tone of voice. you know what it does to him, especially when he's already inside of you. he wraps a hand around the back of your neck, drawing you in for another kiss, harder this time, before he begins to roughly thrust into you again. he controls himself, not fucking you as hard as he did before, but he knows you. he knows what you can take now.

it makes him a little bolder, to be honest. a little more cocky as he fucks into you, mumbling "you like that?" to get a reaction out of you. whether it's the hot, breathy gasps you take, or the way you moan his name because you know him just as well as he knows you. you know he hates blindfolding you because he likes to see all of your face when he fucks you. he likes to see your expressions, even if he does give in and blindfold you sometimes because he can see the appeal of it. you know he thrives on hearing your voice in any way, even though you're not the loudest person. you know he's handsy as hell, too: grabbing at your thigh now, one hand sliding down your side, always so touchy because he likes the feel of your skin.

("is that weird?" he said to you after confessing it. "you're just so soft... i like touching you.")

and you know exactly what all of this is doing to him now. you can see it on his face as he shuts his eyes, losing himself in you. his fingers dig firmer into your leg and hip, one hand having landed there to give you a reassuring squeeze. the sight of you with your wrists tied alone tends to do something to him, despite how badly you want to touch him now. you moan a little louder for him, just to feel the way it makes his hips stutter.

fuck, you love this man more than anything else. the hours you've spent mapping out each other physically and mentally proves it. how else would you know him so intimately?

he kisses you when he comes. he goes slack against you, yet he's moaning against your lips, trying to muffle the sound even a little. he's always been louder than you when he gets like this. his chest is pressed against your own, hands resting at your hips for a moment. you don't know how long you're left underneath him, squished between your bed and the dork you're in love with, but you tug at your restraints again.

"oh, fuck--"

vernon's already springing back up, reaching to untie your wrists as quickly as he can. the knot comes undone easily enough once he remembers it, and he buries his face in your neck once your hands are free. you just wrap your arms around him, enjoying being able to hold him again.

"hey..." you find your voice eventually. "um. thank you."

it earns you a confused, slightly concerned, look. "what?"

"earlier. i mean... you kinda hit too deep, and i was gonna try to say something, but..." i didn't, because you saw. "so, um... thank you. for noticing."

he kisses you again, short and sweet. "of course," he mumbles. "gotta take care of my girl."

it earns a giggle from you. "well," you say, "your girl wants to cuddle, so..."

"got it," he's already, pulling himself out of you carefully. he'll dispose of the condom in a second when he goes to run a bath for the two of you. but he steals one final kiss from you, smiling against your lips, and he just knows.

this isn’t to say that you didn’t have any experience, although you didn’t for the most part. nothing past sexting in the past with some people who turned out to be not-so-great after all, but vernon pulling you into his lap changes things. at least, it did in your eyes. kissing him was... one thing. the two of you had kissed plenty at this point, taking your relationship a little slow at your request--which, to be honest, just proved to you that he’s a good dude. he’s pretty damn chill, but he’s patient and caring in a way that feels new to you. but this? this is new territory. he gasps against your lips a little when you press against him a little too hard, and you go to move, anxiety already spinning lies about how this wasn’t what he intended. but his fingers dig into your hips to keep you in place, reassurance muttered against your lips: you’re fine, baby, you don’t have to move. yet despite it, there’s an endless mantra in your mind of this is new, your heart opting to stay lodged in your throat than settle back into your chest... especially when his hands begin to wander, ever-so-slightly. he’d asked you beforehand, sure, but something about feeling his hands dip underneath your shirt, grazing your bare skin, is enough for you to jolt back.

he meets your gaze, and something about it makes you feel so, so much more self-conscious of being in his lap like this. “you good? we can stop--”

you shake your head, and your heart falters a little. “no, i--i’m just... not used to this.” you ruined this, you want to apologize again. but vernon reaches up, gently pulling you in again.

“it’s okay. just relax,” he says gently. “we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. all you gotta do is stop me, and we can watch a movie or something instead.”

considering all of this started because you were watching a movie and wanted more, part of you wants to make a joke that might not be the best idea. but his lips are gentle against yours, and you kiss back. you rest your hands on his shoulders at first, before threading one hand through his hair. you can feel the way he smiles against your lips, tugging you in closer by your hips, a blissful hum escaping his throat. his hands slip underneath your shirt again, cold fingers grazing your ribs. the way your skirt brushes against your thighs reminds you of how little is separating the two of you now. his touch seems to bloom flames underneath your skin, earning a quiet whimper.

this is new territory, you remind yourself. and when you grind down onto him, it earns you a pretty gasp as he draws his brows together. you’ve seen just how expressive your boyfriend can be, and there’s something about the way his head tilts back a little, lips parted, that makes the heat begin to pool in your belly. it’s maybe a little clumsy in execution (you chalk it up to a lack of physical experience), but seeing his pretty face is enough for you. his eyes meet yours for a second, and he draws you back in, pressing a kiss against your jaw instead. all you think to do is crane your neck a little so that he gets easier access, and it all makes you realize how sensitive you truly are, each hot kiss earning a whimper from you.

his hands fall to your hips again, and he grinds himself into you, earning another whimper from you. despite it, you find some semblance of sense amidst the hazy lust clouding your mind: “--non,” you mumble, “don’t--i don’t wanna go all the way.”

he doesn’t look up, but you hear him mumble against your skin, “‘okay.” his hands stay on your hips. “so we won’t.”

but you stop him for a moment, just to get your point across. “i love you,” you say gently, “and i want you, just... not here. and not tonight.” he knows you’re a virgin, and it’s never been a weird point between the two of you--not like it has for other people who seem to fetishize it. “i want it to be a little more special.”

(ultimately: you didn’t want to ride him on his couch... as tempting as the thought was. call it cheesy, but you like the idea of taking your time with him in bed instead... and riding him on his couch later.)

he nods. “i get it,” he smiles, planting a gentle peck against your lips. his fingers graze just underneath the band of your skirt, toying with the fabric. “can i touch you?”

your face grows warmer at the question, but you eagerly nod. despite the yes you desperately what you want to say, all that comes out is a whispered “please,” instead. he chuckles at you, and it earns you another quick peck on the lips.

“god, you’re so cute,” he says warmly, those pretty brown eyes twinkling a little as he gazes at you. it reminds you of the first time the two of you kissed: you’d gone to a shitty movie and he bought you dinner afterwards, and you had kissed him while the two of you were waiting for your bus.

before he can move, you decide to take initiative for a moment, leaning in to kiss him for only a few seconds before you return the favor. a kiss against his jaw, and you trail them lower with your own intent this time.

“can i bite you?” you ask, toying with the collar of his shirt. you try to lower your voice a little to sound... cooler, maybe. sexier. you have zero idea if it works, but you continue on a little, “i’ll make sure it’s hidden. our secret.”

he eagerly nods in response, swallowing hard at the idea. “yeah,” he says, quieter and more high pitched than you expected, “go for it.” his skin is burning, though, and you realize just how much of an effect you’ve had on him.

so you pull back the collar of his shirt, giving his skin a gentle kiss before you bite down. he lets out the prettiest moan, eyes fluttering shut as his fingers dig hard into your hips. your heart starts racing, and you try to feel things out from there. another kiss against the spot, and then you begin to suck at the skin, earning another gasp from him.

“fuck, babe...”

his approval only spurs you onward, and you grind down against him. he helps you find a rhythm, grinding against him until you pull away from where you’ve left your mark on his collarbone. but his moans are enough to make you greedy, and you latch onto another spot on his neck instead. he swears under his breath, one hand slipping up to the back of your head. before you fully realize it, you pull away to realize just how marked up you’ve left him, mentally counting each and every hickey you’ve left in your wake.

the apology is out before you can even think about it: “oh my god, i’m so sorry.”

he’s still smiling through, and you swear he’s blushing harder than he was before. “it’s fine,” he says. “that’s what makeup is for.”

“are you sure?” you ask quietly, and then bury your face in your hands after his nod. your face is burning hot at the fact you just... got carried away in all of it. “i’m... awkward. i’m sorry--”

he pulls at your hands, gently lowering them so he could see your face again. “it’s cute.”

“it’s not,” but you don’t hide your face again, despite how badly you want to. “i mean... i’ve never actually done this,” you vaguely gesture between the two of you. “i mean, i’ve talked about it, but...”

“that’s okay,” he says. he toys with the edge of your shirt. “i still wanna touch you, y’know. can i take this off?”

instead of answering him, you opt to pull your shirt off yourself. he helps guide the fabric off of you, too, and you let the fabric drip onto the floor until it falls into a puddle. you try your best not to bristle at the change in temperature, and vernon looks you over.

but he notices, because of course he does. this is the man who’s learned how to figure you out with a glance most days. “cold?”

“mmhm,” you carefully shift a little in his lap. “and nervous.”

“am i the first one to--”

“technically, no,” you say. “i mean... first one to take my shirt off, but someone else has seen this before.”

he nods casually enough. “gotcha.” he reaches forward to guide you in for another kiss, chaste as can be despite the circumstances. “can i...?”

his eyes dip down to your newly exposed flesh. you don’t know what exactly he’s asking for, but you know you can stop him if you want. so you nod instead, trusting him fully.

with a gentle kiss against your neck, you begin to realize he... might be doing to you what you did to him. maybe a little less extreme, but he plants kisses down your neck and collarbones until he’s pressing tiny kisses against your chest. you whimper as you grind down against him, his hands lingering around your ribs...

and then he bites down on the inner skin of your breast, right where it’ll be hidden by most shirts, and you moan. without thinking, you cover your mouth at the sound, but he draws back. he pulls your hand away gently.

“i like that,” he says. “you don’t have to be quiet with me.”

you rest your hand on his shoulder instead, and he goes back to marking up your chest. the feeling of nips and bites makes you writhe a little in his lap, eyes fluttering shut as you get lost in the feeling of it. fuck, no wonder he seemed lost earlier: being wanted feels good in a way you never fully grasped. you grind down on him, and he guides you, fingers digging hard into your hips as he helps you find a rhythm again. part of this makes you want to go fuck it to your earlier idea of waiting, and riding him or letting him fuck you until you can’t say or think anything other than his name. but you don’t: you want it to be a little more special than this. call it being a little sentimental, but the idea of your first time in bed with him after a slower, more romantic build up... it’s something you want. even if you argue that having your first time with someone so gentle and patient as him is special... it’s different, too.

but you know your limits, at least. he does, too: no actual intercourse. that doesn’t mean you can’t get more from this. you reach around, unclasping your bra. the cups go slack, and you push vernon back long enough to get the fabric off. “do what you want,” you say, breathier than you mean to. but his eyes meet yours for barely a second, and he obliges quickly. he toys with your nipples before taking one into his mouth, and you get lost in the feeling again as you grind against him. the feeling of his teeth gently scraping the bud of your breast as his fingers pinch the other earns a louder moan from you.

when his grunts and groans get louder, you pull away from him and stop in your motions despite the way he whimpers.

“i was--”

your fingers graze his belt, already beginning to undo it. “can i touch you?” he nods eagerly, and you continue on, “can you... can you show me? i want you to feel good, too.”

with that, the two of you shift a little for comfort’s sake. you undo his belt and his jeans, and he ends up having to shimmy a little to get them down and nearly off. while he pulls himself free from his boxers, you don’t fail to realize that you could easily ride him in this position. next time, you promise yourself. if only he knew the plans you were already making in your head now. instead, he reaches for your hand, guiding it to the base of his cock as he curls your fingers around it. he slowly guides your hand upward, showing you the motion as he restrains himself.

“like that,” he tells you, although the strain in his voice tells you that your touch alone is doing something for him. “okay?”

with another slow stroke, you see the way his hips jerk up at your touch. you knew that you were blushing (whether he could see it or not was a different story), but... you like this. you like having a little control over him. you spit into your palm to make things easier, and you continue to stroke him as you lean in to kiss him again. every little noise he makes, you practically devour as he jolts underneath you at your slow, teasing touch. after a moment of uncertainty, you decide to test the waters a little bit: you squeeze him a little tighter, moving a little faster, and he jerks against you.

“oh, fuck....”

you let out a hum, stopping long enough to spit into your hand again, and you keep going. “you like that?” you say, and he eagerly nods, eyes squeezing shut. “good.” the way his chest is heaving a little now, the way he gasps as you speed up. “you sound so hot like this, baby.” and you shift back. oral is out of the question tonight (maybe another time--when he’s... probably in a better spot to figure this out with you, and not starting to moan like a whore), but you lean forward, pressing a kiss against the side of his tip. his eyes meet yours for barely a second before he looks away, face filling with color as you begin to speed up.

“fuck, you’re so big...” admittedly, you have no idea if he is, but the idea of feeding into his ego is good enough for you. you speed up, and he moans louder this time, jolting against your hand. a little more pressure lets you see his pretty expressions: brows drawn tight together, swears falling underneath his breath as he white-knuckle grasps the couch underneath him. fuck, part of you feels like you lucked out with getting a boyfriend this handsome, but seeing his face like this is on its own level. his hand drops to your own, guiding it faster and faster until--

his eyes flutter shut, and he chokes out your name as he hits his peak. hot, sticky cum shoots out onto your chest, and you gasp at the feeling. you hadn’t realized the angle or anything while you were distracted by the pretty look on his face and all of the sounds he was making. his chest heaves, eyes still shut as he comes down from his orgasm. you just sit and watch the way he breathes for a moment, before he opens his eyes and looks at you, taking in the sight before he dips forward to kiss you hard. he pushes you back a second later, though, gaze flickering down to your chest.

“shit,” he mumbles, shoving himself back into his boxers. he nearly trips over his jeans before he abandons them completely. “i’ll get a washcloth--just stay there.”

you lay back on the couch, staring up at the ceiling as you try not to let yourself spiral into bad thoughts. was this all he actually wanted? you push back: he’s different. he wouldn’t just let you get him off without returning the favor--at least not without being up front about all of it.

without thinking, you look down at the mess on your chest. you can hear vernon coming back, and you... admittedly don’t think as you decide to taste it.

“oh, babe, you don’t have to--”

and you wrinkle your nose at the salty taste. it earns a laugh from him as he sits down across from you. “fuck, that’s--”

“yeah, people say that,” he wipes down your chest with a warm washcloth. “you don’t have to do that.”

“no, it’s fine,” you say, “just... new.”

he nods, and leans in to press a gentle kiss against your lips. “you good?” he asks, watching you for a second. “you wanna stop?”

you peek up at him, “huh?”

“i mean... it’s your turn,” he says, “but if you don’t want to keep going, that’s okay--”

oh. oh. you feel the heat return to your face. he reaches up, pushing at your skirt to expose you more to him. “you don’t have to,” is your go-to thought, and you say it aloud before you even realize it.

“i want to.”

well, fuck, he doesn’t have to ask you twice. “okay,” you say, shifting a little.

but he hesitates, fingers tracing your clothed folds. “babe. do you want to? because if you’re tired, we don’t have to keep going--”

you shake your head. “no, i want to,” you say. “sorry, i just--” you swallows hard after a second, dismissing whatever apology you were about to make. “i want you to touch me.”

he chuckles, and plants a quick kiss against your lips, mumbling how that’s all he needed to hear. vernon slips a hand into your underwear, and you grow embarrassed at the gasp he earns from you from his mere touch alone. but he smiles when he kisses you, his fingers glide through your slick with ease, and you part your legs a little more to give him easier access. his fingers graze the area around your clit, never touching. when he pulls away, he gazes into your eyes, “is this good?”

you shake your head, and pull his hand away long enough to peel your underwear off. you guide his hand this time, showing him just how to get you off before you pull his hand back to your clit. “like that,” you say, “just... faster.”

sure enough, he takes the instruction well and speeds up his touches faster than you anticipate. it earns another gasp from you, and he leans forward, kissing you hard as his fingers work between your legs. you writhe underneath him, moaning quietly at his touch. his fingers slip down to your entrance, thumb still over your clit. he barely pulls away to ask for permission before you let out a breathy “please,” pulling him back in to kiss you again. he pushes a finger into you, and then another before he crooks them inside. when he hits that sweet spot inside of you, you push down against his hand without thinking.

he draws back just enough to chuckle and speak in a quiet voice, “you like that?”

you nod, and crane your neck when he presses a kiss against it instead of your lips again. “mmhm,” you hum, “right there...”

“good girl,” he whispers, and he plants another kiss against your neck. “tell me what you want.”

he speeds up, and all you can do is whimper at the wet sounds that fill the air between the two of you. your eyes squeeze shut, brows drawing together as you push against his hand, almost trying to ride his fingers.

“you like that?” he breathes against your skin. “you like riding my fingers, baby? god, you look so fucking pretty...” another tiny peck against your skin. “just like that, baby. can’t even think right now, can you?”

you try to shake your head, but he hits that spot inside of you again with his fingers, and you moan his name instead.

“that’s right,” he chuckles, “you’re my baby.”

the closer you get to your orgasm, the more aware you seem to grow. you paw at his hand, trying to stop him as anxiety hits you. “vernon, wait--” you whimper, and your brain latches onto something that’s probably a little dumb considering he’s the one who offered to get you off: “don’t wanna... don’t wanna ruin your couch--”

he chuckles. “it’s okay,” he says, his fingers fucking faster into your. “just come for me, baby. i’ve got you.”

without thinking, you try to muffle your moan, only for his other hand to curl tight around your wrist, pressing it hard into the couch. when you go to cry out again, his lips are on yours, kissing you hard. from the fast way his fingers thrust into you to the way his thumb is rubbing your clit hard, he brings you closer and closer. your thighs quake around him, and you writhe underneath him. and then you finally hit your peak with a gasp, cumming hard around his fingers, vernon pulls away to watch you as he helps you through it. he lets go of your wrist, hand cradling your face instead as you let out a blissful sigh, leaning into his touch as you nearly go limp underneath him. he pulls his fingers out of you, and you peek up at him just in time to see him slip them into his mouth while you come down from your high.

fuck, it’s hotter when he does it... but you think he’d say the same for you.

“you good?” he asks, and it makes you giggly. even after all of this, he’s concerned for you in that chill, casual vernon way. as if he wasn’t just calling you his baby and teasing you for how empty your head seemed to be.

you nod, though, lying back against the soft cushions of his couch (which were seungkwan’s doing, he told you once). “mhm,” you feel lighter than before.

wordlessly, he gets up for a moment after leaving you with a quick kiss on the lips. when he comes back, its with one of his biggest hoodies and a pair of sweatpants that you’d left over here last time you spent the night... and another washcloth. he’s careful to clean you up, the cool fabric between your legs ran as gently as it could before he tosses it aside.

“i’m fine--”

“babe. you look like you could fall asleep right now,” he sits down. “just stay here tonight.”

you lean forward, kissing him again. “okay,” you giggle, planting another quick peck against his lips. “if you insist.” despite the way your legs feel like jelly, you gather up the clothes he brought for you, and slowly stand up with the intent on going to the bathroom for a few minutes.

but he stops you before you can get too far, drawing you in for one more kiss. “i love you,” he says against your lips.

the downside of joshua’s job is that he’s away from you... far too much for your own liking. and, unfortunately for both of you, the side effect of your birth control decides that the week before your placebo week is the week you’re always at your horniest. this isn’t a problem when he’s around and not as busy (rare as those times are) because joshua hong just happens to be one man deeply in love with you. even if he’s not in the mood himself, he’s happily told you time and time again that he’ll at least help you get off... primarily because he’s seen you when you’re too frustrated to function properly. it’s shitty when it gets that bad, but, thankfully, it rarely does anymore.

except he’s been away for... longer than usual. and now that you’re hitting that week-before-placebo-week, your hormones are out of control. and because the world has perfect timing, your favorite rechargable vibrator just... stopped working. you still have no idea what happened, but, alas, it was completely dead. you had lamented this to joshua, who immediately told you to pick out a few toys and he’d buy you one and get the express shipping. you told him he didn’t have to, that you had other toys.

“i’ll buy it for you,” he had said on the phone with you that night, “but you have to let me watch when you get it.”

which lead to now. you’re sitting on your bed, the box still unopened beside you, with your laptop in front of you. joshua has a pair of earbuds in and looks as handsome as ever, alone in a hotel room for once (although, you hadn’t told him this, you wouldn’t mind if one of his friends watched... depending on who it was). you can see the top few buttons of his shirt already undone, sleeves having been rolled up to his elbows as he quietly adjusts his laptop.

sheepishly, you nod. “it’s here.”

“well?” his eyes are sparkling. “open it up. unless you’re not in the mood...?”

you pretend you don’t see him push a box of tissues a little out of frame, knowing exactly where his mind is right now. “are you sure?”

“are you?”

you shift a little, knowing that you’ve been waiting all day for this call. you promised him that he could watch for the first time. as embarrassed as you feel doing this over the phone (you’d always prefer having joshua right there with you--phone sex works, but the feeling of joshua’s hands on you is unrivaled). you reach for the knife you’d brought with you to cut through the tape.

“careful.” joshua speaks up, and smiles at you when you glance back up to him.

you almost want to tease him for it. if he was there with you, he’d open the box himself with that teasing smile... the idea of joshua using toys on you thrills you, and you push it away in favor of cleanly slicing through the tape. you pulled out the cushioning for the package, only to notice that joshua had, ultimately, lied by omission. he told you he’d buy one for you. you’d picked out four just to give him options.

and while he didn’t buy you all four... he did buy you half of them.

“well?”

“i hate you.”

he laughs and you look up at him. “i’m allowed to spoil my pretty girlfriend,” he says, resting his head in one hand. “one of them has an app, you know...”

you set aside the remote control vibrator. you’d help joshua get it set up later for fun, but the other...

“open the box. it came with batteries, right?”

that it did. you pop open the box for the other--a dual-stimulation toy that thrusts, something you’d never actually owned before but had been eyeing up for a while--and pull the plastic-encased toy out. joshua watches the way you carefully set everything up, opening it up to put batteries inside...

“is that my shirt?”

you look up, and realize that you had stolen one of his biggest shirts to lounge around in. truthfully, joshua’s wardrobe and your own seemed to blend the moment he moved in with you. “maybe.”

he smiles. “cute,” he says. “turn it on.”

you fumble with the buttons for a second, but you click your new toy on. it buzzes to life, the little part meant for your clit activates while the other part begins to slowly thrust up and down. you were sure it’d be nothing compared to joshua inside of you, but... it would do for now. you could make do.

(joshua can see the look in your eyes, though, and smiles to himself. he’d get his own fun with you later through controlling the remote controlled one with the app.)

you look up to see joshua just... watching you. “shua?”

“take everything but my shirt off,” he tells you, reclining back a little. he pauses, realizing that this isn’t exactly a scene for the two of you. “okay?”

you smile. “do you want to watch?”

(as if you even had to ask.)

you turn off the toy for the moment, setting it aside as you prop yourself up on your knees. with a little maneuvering, your shorts and underwear are both off and thrown to the side. before you can consider getting off, you take a moment to push the laptop further--just to give him a better view of you.

“i want to see you,” he says. there’s a little thrill in knowing he’s choosing his words carefully, just in case someone happens upon this. if someone overhears him from the door, you aren’t sure what he’ll do. depending on who it is, either you’ll be left while he draws this session out, or you’ll have two voyeurs instead of one.

(truthfully, you’ve told joshua that you’d be open to jeonghan watching. you trusted him enough to not be weird about things, and so did joshua. maybe one day you two will invite him in, just to spice up your sex life a little more.)

you spread your legs for him, watching the way he looks you up and down. with a coy smile, you slip your fingers in between your folds, spreading them so that he can see how you’re already glistening.

“turn the toy back on, baby,” he tells you. “how many settings does it say it has?”

“ten,” you say with a hum, you pick up the toy, clicking it back on after a few seconds of holding the button. you cycle through them for a moment, the part that touches your clit having different vibrations compared to the varying speeds of the thrusting part.

“go back to the slowest one,” he tells you. “you can touch your clit,” his voice is quieter now, “but that’s all.”

you almost want to whine at him. he buys you the one that thrusts and he can’t even let you see what it feels like yet? you know you can take it, and even if you couldn’t, there’s lube in the bedside table. but you do as he says, clicking it back to the beginning of its cycled-through settings, and slowly you press it against yourself. the vibrations against your clit immediately make you whimper, eyes fluttering shut. its more intense than your usual vibes, that’s for sure--and it’s loud, too.

“fuck, babe, i can hear that thing,” he says. you see him shift. “guess it’s a good thing i have earbuds in,” he chuckles. “well? you know what to do. play with your pretty clit for me.”

managing a nod, you begin to move the toy, rubbing yourself with it and letting out a quiet moan at the feeling. every so often, the tip grazes your entrance, and you have to resist the urge to try pushing it into yourself right then and there. and joshua can tell: he sees the way you inhale sharply every time it brushes you and how greedy you want to be. you can’t see him because you’re too focused on yourself, but he smiles to himself at the sight of your restraint. maybe when he comes home, he’ll fuck you with this toy himself.

“my love?”

you look back up to him, watching the casual way he’s adjusting himself. “mhm?”

“if you can make yourself come without putting it in,” he says, having lifted the microphone attached to his earbuds up, “you can fuck yourself with it properly after.”

your pupils dilate at the idea, and you nod. “can i?”

“go ahead, baby,” he says. “you’ve been good for me. i wanna see your pretty face when you come.”

the compliment makes your face grow warmer, and you begin to focus in on your pleasure. every single time the tip grazes your entrance, you have to fight back the urge to ignore what he told you and push it in. there’s no real hierarchy between the two of you, no punishment to dole out (at least, not without your consent--and that wasn’t brought up today), but a stubborn part of you wants to do it this way. to show him that you have restraint, because he’d tease you otherwise. you click the vibrator onto the next setting, buzzing growing louder as the toy thrusts faster into the air.

he merely chuckles. “go ahead, baby. whatever helps you.”

(sometimes you swear he’s a gentleman only when he chooses to be. any other time and he’d be teasing you relentlessly.)

you rub the vibrator a little harder against your clit, letting out a strained whimper. you miss his fingers. shutting your eyes, you let yourself pretend that it’s him who’s teasing you like this. the idea of joshua fucking you with toys is... better than you like to admit (and maybe on the table for when he gets home). the sound of his gentle voice coaxing you onward, calling you pretty when you’re desperate...

you mumble his name, brows drawing together as you rub yourself faster. “shua--”

“i’m right here, baby,” he says. “what do you need from me?”

“keep talking,” you say. “i miss you...”

his chuckle is light and airy. “i miss you, too, honey.” he always sounds so loving when he says things like that. and yet you can hear him smile when he speaks again, “i miss that pretty cunt of yours, too. are you going to let me have my turn when i come home? show you how to play with your toys properly? hm?”

you whimper. “josh--”

“i know that’s what you’re thinking about,” he says. “i’ll make you earn my cock, then, when i get back. you think you can handle that, baby?”

you know joshua well enough: every toy you have, he’ll make you come for him at least once--if not more--before finally giving you his cock again to remind you that toys don’t measure up to how desperate he can make you. your breath hitches, and you feel yourself getting closer. you whine out his name again, only to hear him chuckle.

“are you my toy?” he asks so genuinely, as if he’s asking you about your day. his eyes are twinkling, though: he knows exactly what he’s doing. and you watch the slight way he tilts his head, eyes dark save for that mischievous glimmer. “well? are you?”

you nod, eagerly, just to get him to say something else. he merely chuckles instead.

“go up another setting.”

obediently, you do, although you nearly fumble with the thing. the vibrations become more intense, and you nearly throw your head back at the sensation, letting out a louder gasp. your thighs shake as you rub it harder against yourself, mind hazy with lust.

“shua--”

“it’s okay, baby,” he says gently. “you can come.”

and with his word, you finally do. you hit your peak with a louder whine, climax washing over you as you spasm around nothing. as good as it feels, it makes you miss him more: the feeling of sitting in his lap with him buried inside you, or the teasing way he’d steal a kiss while he’d continue to fuck you through your orgasm with that stupidly cocky look on his face. even now, he has that same glimmer in his eyes as he sits in his hotel room, that oh-so-confident smile on his face.

“good girl,” he coos out. “god, you’re so pretty when you come...”

the vibrator buzzes, still aimlessly thrusting into the air. you eye it, and then look at him. “shua...”

“you can fuck yourself as much as you want now,” he chuckles. “that was the deal--”

“i wanna see you.” you pout a little. two can play at this game. “aren’t you hard, honey? it’s not fair if you don’t get off, too...”

he looks up, brows raising a little before relaxing back down. he knows you well enough. “if you insist,” he says playfully, but you see him glance to the other vibrator. “only if we can set up that app, too.”

chris can barely fight back the smile that your voice brings him. okay, so maybe you were going a little above and beyond with all of this. you had your former henchman (well, he was technically your driver) “kidnap” him as he was leaving work (truthfully, chris watched the guy pull up and knew if he said “no, thanks” to the demand that he get into the car, wonwoo would have driven off and called you to call off the entire thing). as weird as it was to know that the guy in the back seat, seungcheol, was also fully aware of what was going on... he kinda learned to get used to it. the two of you had planned this for a while ever since you confessed that you always thought it’d be kinda hot to handcuff him and, y’know... make a scene out of things. just for the two of you. seungcheol had been the one to handcuff him, to blindfold him, to pop a pill into his mouth (another thing the two of you had decided on: an aphrodisiac that chris had picked out). seungcheol would later be the one who’d bring him up the back entry to the penthouse and leave him waiting for you.

“you two are weird,” he had heard wonwoo mumble under his breath at one point.

maybe so, with how elaborate all of this has become. but he’d seen the sparkle in your eyes when he left you this morning with a kiss and a promise to see you later. work was fine, even if seungmin called him gross for having any plans with you.

seungcheol had left him with a “have a nice night,” after he’d shoved chris into a chair before leaving, the door locking shut behind him.

good, chris had thought. that meant all he had to do was wait for you. the drug was already taking its effect, his own clothes starting to be a little too much for him. and chris knows the handcuffs around his wrist are a toy. gone are the days of you crafting them yourself out of certain metals that dampen his powers: this is a game, and he’s thrilled to play it.

and then he heard you, and he knew what was coming.

your fingers graze his face, “what’s wrong, wolf?” he can hear the smile in your voice. “too scared to talk?”

(even when you were active energies, you never used his full superhero name. he likes wolf by itself, though. at least people stopped calling him the lone wolf since he’d created his own little team.)

he almost wants to play his role. but he can’t resist teasing you, “you really went all out, didn’t you?”

“i like the theatrics,” you hum.

chris knows that better than most people. the two of you had been enemies up until that faithful day when you were trapped together, and you had dropped your mask through tear-filled eyes as you panicked. you spilled everything to him since you weren’t being watched. chris had saved you from your former employer, taken them down, and you fell for the endless kindness and patience he showed you. he knows that you used to ham up your public misdeeds as a way of coping with what you were forced into doing. truthfully, it’s nice that you’re having fun with your silly little roleplay plot: it shows that the therapy is helping and that you’re getting better.

he feels your fingers at the back of his skull, undoing the weak knot before letting it fall.

you know, he never really thought he’d see you in that dumb jumpsuit. he knew you kept it, and now it’s a little... tight in some places, but he thinks that’s good. you’d been so stressed before, so scared. he’d always love every inch of you, though, and he’ll have to worship you some other time.

“miss this?” you tease, fingers grazing the zipper at the top of your neck. you used to complain about how it felt suffocating, and even now chris can see you pull it down enough that you feel more comfortable. “christopher...” you hum, reaching out to run your thumb along his jaw. “i know what you really are, you know.”

he fights the urge to smile. “do you?”

“you play this big strong hero role for everyone else,” you drag the zipper down further and further, revealing more of your skin to him. he sees black lace, and he damn near whimpers at the sight of it. “but you’re just a pathetic little freak, aren’t you? i can see how hard you are, chris.”

the fabric falls slack around you as you step out of it with ease, kicking it away as you settle into his lap. he bites his lip, so frustrated with how sensitive he is.

“pathetic,” you click your tongue. “and here i thinking about kissing you.” instead, your hands fall down to his belt, easily undoing it in slow movements to draw this experience out further. “how can you be a hero like this, christopher?”

“i--” he breathes in, “i’m not as weak as you think i am.”

“oh, you aren’t?” your hand drops lower, grabbing him hard as he lets out a whimper. “and yet you’re moaning like you’re a whore, bang.”

“that’s--”

another squeeze, and he swears you’re going to be the death of him, a moan forcing its way past his lips. fuck, he barely read the reviews past glowing ones that said to be careful with the aphrodisiac. maybe he should have read them further. or maybe it’s something in his enhanced DNA that makes this more powerful. 

he feels your warm fingers as you pull him out of his boxers, slowly stroking him. his hips jerk, and you laugh lowly at the sight.

“big strong wolf and yet you’re pathetic for me. is that why you let yourself get caught so many times? how long have you been thinking about this, chris?” you tilt your head with this coy smile on your face. “about me handcuffing you and fucking you until you forget your name?”

he can’t even speak, only whimpering as you continue to stroke him. he licks his lips, “i haven’t--”

“you haven’t?” you mock surprise, “you don’t have to pretend. the city doesn’t have to know how their savior just wants to get handcuffed and used like the stupid slut he is.”

chris jerks against you, and he watches you climb off his lap. your hand speeds up, and he watches as you kneel before him, tracing a vein along the underside of his cock.

“honey--” his voice comes out higher than he expects, “i don’t know how long i can last. wanna--” a quiet gasp as he watches you run your thumb over his tip, smearing pre-cum, “wanna come inside you.”

“oh, do you?” you tilt your head. “fucking pathetic. you could break out of those handcuffs any time you want to--so why don’t you?”

his pupils are blown out when you take him into your mouth, barely sucking on him for a second before he gives in. he hears the metal snap with ease as he yanks his writs free, pushing you off of him immediately. it’s easy enough to hoist you up and over his shoulder considering his enhanced strength (the man single-handedly brought up the new couch into your apartment, after all), and he smiles when he hears your tell-tale giggle that he’s giving you what you want. even in roleplay, both of you break character easy. maybe next time the two of you can draw this out longer, when he’s not as sensitive as he is now. if he lets you suck him off any longer, he won’t get the chance to fuck you as soon as he wants to. he jostles you a little as he kicks the door open, careful to not knock it off its hinges (fuck, he did that once, and as hot as you thought it was, paying for the repairs was... not fun).

you know firsthand how strong he is. and yet chris lays you down gently onto the mattress, always so careful to make sure he doesn’t hurt you.

“you wanna call me weak?” he challenges you, “i’m not. who’s weak now?”

you smile. “you couldn’t even last a few seconds with my mouth on you. you think that’s strong, chris?”

he hears the lace rip when he goes to pull it off, nails dug too far into it. he mutters an apology without thinking about it, but pushes you up before kneeling at the edge of the bed. he’ll fuck you soon enough, but he knows you need to be prepped better.

“you like this, huh?” he says, dragging his fingers through your slick. you’re already so wet for him, and he smiles at it. “maybe you’re the one who’s been wanting this all along. never nabbed one of my friends...”

(truthfully, it was probably a power play: capture the leader, the people’s hope, and watch what happens next.)

“you’ve always wanted me, haven’t you, love?” he’s careful as he holds your thighs apart, grasp firm enough to keep you from squirming. “well... you have me now.”

you gasp as he licks a stripe up before diving into your folds, hungry to get you off as fast as he can. he thrusts his fingers into you, attacking your clit the way he knows gets you off the fastest. every call of his name only drives him forward, and he fucks his tongue into you as his fingers take over rubbing you hard and fast. with a moan, you come undone around his tongue, and he laps up your juices. the lights flicker around the room, humming louder as they do. oh, you’re losing control in more ways than one, aren’t you...? how tempting.

when he pulls away, you have a command for him. “take that off.”

for a moment, he almost forgot he was mostly clothed still. he strips off his clothing fast as you lie there, watching him with that pretty, content smile. he pauses long enough to pull his wallet out, retrieving the condom he keeps on him (sometimes the two of you can be insatiable for one another--he likes being prepared for those dinner dates that occasionally lead into him fucking you against a brick wall in the alley, too needy to wait). you reach a hand down, stroking him, and he has to stop you before you can tease him further.

“i’m going to come if you keep doing that, baby,” he says, pulling your hand up to where he can press a kiss against your palm. “literally, i almost did while eating you out.”

you giggle. “how cute,” you reach up, pulling him to you. you giggle, saying in a sing-song tone a little “chris can’t control himself--”

he smiles as he kisses you, “you have that effect on me, you know.”

he knows the roles have disappeared between the two of you, both of you more giddy for what comes next. he rolls the condom on, and pushes himself into you when you give him your word. barely seconds after he’s inside you, you tell him to fuck you.

chris knows his strength. that’s why he always starts slow. you call him a tease for it, but it’s him restraining himself. if he fucked you as hard as he wanted, he’d hurt you--this way, he can ensure that you’re good before he gets rougher with you. you goad him into speeding up in-between your moans, and he does, leaning in to kiss you as his thrusts grow faster and faster. he can hear the hum of electricity around the two of you again.

fuck, he really doesn’t want to have to replace bulbs. or potentially cause a minor outage. it’s happened before. it turns out that when you get too into it, your powers are... a little more unpredictable. the two of you know how to handle it, sure, but he’s always mindful of it. can’t keep fucking other people over when he’s yours and yours alone.

he’s mindful of how hard he’s holding onto you, too. his fingers are digging into your skin enough to keep you steady, but not enough to hurt. you know the safe word if he gets too in his head. he moans against your lips, though: he can’t come yet. not until you do. he has to last, he tells himself.

“chris,” you moan out, eyes squeezed shut. “need you,” you babble, and the words flow out of your mouth like a prayer. “please,” you continue to say, begging over and over.

he lets go with one hand, slipping it between your thighs so that he can rub your clit again. yet his breathing grows heavier, and he moans, hips stuttering.

“fuck.” he breathes, over and over.

“it’s okay,” you coax him gently. “just come, baby. it’s okay.”

he buries his face into your shoulder, moans dying into whimpers as he comes harder than he ever has become. as good (great) as it feels, he can’t fight that tiny drop of guilt: you didn’t come before he did. he plants kiss after kiss onto your neck and shoulders, mumbling how much he loves you. because he does: after everything the two of you have been through now, all he can think about is how much he loves you.

you gently nudge him, and your lips find his when he lifts his head. “love you, too,” you mumble against his lips.

he circles your clit again after a moment. when you whine a little, telling him he doesn’t have to, he shakes his head. “one more,” he promises. “unless you want me to stop.”

that earns a tiny whimper from you, desperate as his fingers speed up. “don’t.”

he peppers kisses along your skin, gently coaxing you as he increases the pressure on your clit. just one more, baby: its still a promise to you rather than a command. a request, if nothing else. you squeeze your eyes shut again, whimpering louder as he shows you just how well he knows your body. he hears the way your breath hitches when you get close, and you don’t miss what he mumbles against the side of your face: those same three little words every love-making session devolves into.

your throat aches a little. it always does when you get lost in your own head, lust-filled thoughts always drowning out how loud chris can get you. your thighs shake as chris pushes you closer and closer to your climax. his fingers rub harder into you, and you come with a sharp gasp this time rather than the moans or whispers of his name that he usually pulls from you. he hears you exhale in bliss afterward, and he nearly collapses into you as you throb around him.

if it weren’t for how sensitive he felt, he’d fuck you again. instead, he just mumbles how much he loves you against your skin.

“i know,” you say aloud. the weight of his tired body on top of yours says it just as much as he does. the fact that he’s even here says it, too. you play with his curls idly, eyes fluttering shut. “i love you, too, chris.”

soon he’ll get up. he’ll clean up, he’ll get a snack for the two of you, and you’ll talk in the way you two always do... and maybe he’ll survey the place, make sure you didn’t blow a bulb by accident. but for now, he stays in your arms.

perhaps it comes with having dated him for a while. there was something thrilling about the way the two of you would end up marking each other up (always one more than the other, to be fair) before finally indulging yourselves in what you truly wanted. it was... hard to tell which of you liked it more, too. the pretty way he’d moan always rang out in your own mind, but his gentle teasing (coaxing you to be still for him, to let him work so he could admire it for a moment before he fucks you) did, too.

no matter. that was last night. and now joshua lies in your bed, watching you with glimmering eyes as you get ready for the day. because joshua, mister gentle sexy himself, is still a gentleman. he strays away from any skin you bare in your day-to-day life, and stays where he knows you can cover it easily. even now, in summer, he’s mindful of it. that’s why he likes to watch you as you get ready for the day. it’s another chance to admire his hard work.

when you notice he’s awake, you make your way over, pressing a gentle kiss against his lips. “good morning.”

before you can draw away, he brings you back in for another kiss: longer, this time. he almost succeeds in pulling you into his lap again. “good morning,” he mumbles against your lips.

“shua--”

“i know.” he says, hands resting at your waist. “you can’t cancel?”

you roll your eyes, but your smile gives you away. maybe next time. but you grace him with one more peck on the lips. “what am i supposed to tell cheol?”

“that you got caught up,” he runs his thumb over your bare skin. “that something came up--”

“and then he’s gonna chew you out because he’s not dumb.” you pull away from him, picking up your jeans where you had set them out. he watches as you slowly step into them and pull them on, as if you’re teasing him still.

then again, you almost definitely are.

“you could come too, y’know.”

joshua shakes his head. “i’m not gonna infiltrate your friend-time.”

“he’s still your friend.”

he shrugs. “and we’ll hang out later.” he watches as you pull a shirt on, and he sighs. “hurry home?”

“for you?” you return to him, always insatiable when it comes to morning kisses with him. “always.”

first of all, i really appreciate the kind words i've received both from anons and from a friend <3 sometimes i struggle a lot with having this blog because i've admittedly been through some pretty traumatic things regarding sex. last month i kind of majorly came to terms with my own sexual assault and opened up about it to some good friends, and it... admittedly helped a lot to know i'm not alone, especially when one of my friends went through something similar. the other stuff i'm not comfortable talking about although it was more explicit (and entirely online, relationship-wise), but its fucked with me for years now and sometimes i think i'm never going to get better.

and like. in a weird way, writing smut (both as reader fics and my own oc works, which i've admittedly been doing a little bit lately because i feel like... slightly more detached if that makes sense) can be cathartic. on the other side of the coin, it can be triggering, but i know myself well enough to be able to step back and not push myself to write. that's probably why i only write so often on this blog, other than just the general lack of inspiration at times.

so i guess lately i've been feeling not very groovy and it's been affecting my mental space. sometimes i look at this blog and i feel like my smut's just mediocre? because i'll sometimes see other writers get far more attention way sooner. it just feels lonely in my little corner of tumblr in general most of the time. plus yesterday was my birthday and my birthdays always tend to feel lonelier, even with the sweet words i got from a lot of people (both yesterday and today since i accidentally let it slip to a group of friends since i didnt want them to make it a big deal??)

idk. i just feel out of place sometimes. sometimes i wonder if opening requests would do something, but im picky about stuff (and i have some very very strict 'i do not fuck w this kink' for specific reasons--some being triggers) and i don't feel like i could do any ideas justice.