Mingyu
Safewording + Temperature play + Physical marks of play
warnings: smut, safewording, gn!reader, amab!reader, mingyu is into biting (he likes being bitten), waxplay,
Taglist: @owjohny
word count: 882 words
༻✦༺ ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺༻✦༺ ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺༻✦༺ ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺༻✦༺ ༻✧༺
You hiss as the wax drips onto your back, hardening into a thin film which cracks when you try to move.
“Too hot?” Mingyu asks, holding the burning candle nimbly. He looks dashing in the fitted pants he wears, having dressed up for the very special occasion of your two year anniversary.
You shake your head, hands flexing at the rim of your bathtub where you lie, naked and at the mercy of Kim Mingyu who wasn’t particularly merciful often.
He tuts, kissing your ear before dripping some more of that blood red wax onto the smooth expanse of your back, your spine arching under the onslaught of heat.
“Fuck,” you hiss, turning baleful eyes at Mingyu who has almost a disinterested look on his face. That one everyone calls his “model face”. You feel the flash of fire on your skin, too hot, too sudden, and you flinch just as Mingyu pulls back the flame.
A tried and tested torture technique for him, never long enough to burn you, not even long enough to redden you. Just enough to make you flinch. Enough to make you whine. Making use of the flame rather than the candle.
And then drops of wax on your spine, Mingyu’s fingers tracing each vertebra, pressing into the indents of your bones as if he could pull you apart just with a mere touch and you believe he can. You believe he holds enough power when his hand slides to your neck, your collarbones, pulling you away from the rim of the empty bathtub, spotlessly bright and at contrast with the blush of red, the petals of wax falling off your body.
He casts his disinterested eyes at your chest, nipples peaked, a thin line of sweat dripping down your sternum, eyes hazy. You reach out a trembling hand and Mingyu instinctively knows to lean in, to get in the bathtub and let your fingers undo the buttons of his crisp white shirt, to let you pull him closer and put your lips against his neck, teeth nipping, sharp little flashes of pain as you crawl into his lap, body temperature so high that you’re almost feverish and he knows you’re dizzy even though you don’t say it this time.
He lets your teeth sink into the warm bronze of his skin too hard, leaving little indents and he too winces just as the flame made you wince. And when his hands dip down your body, past the wax petals, between your legs he finds it warm and wet, already ready for him, warmer than even your feverish body could compare, given that you prepped yourself so meticulously for him, so desperate to waste no time to have him inside yourself.
Your willful hands push away his offending shirt, tossing it onto the bathroom floor, a whine escaping your throat when hot wax drips down the slope of your back so close to your ass. Mingyu’s hands let go of your for a mere moment and in your warmth-muddled brain you feel the cold where his hands aren’t there, your body moving on its own, nose nuzzling against his chest, lips wandering little bruises on his skin, purple blossoming easily under the onslaught of your lips.
You feel the flame nearing you, and know you can’t take more of it, can’t take the flash of pain again so you whisper, “cigarette,” and the hand holding the candle freezes before he puts the candle as far away as he can reach, the whole heat fueled experience having turned your limbs into Jell-O.
You’re limp in his hold as he maneuvers you, slipping a finger in, then two, finding you sufficiently ready, unbuttoning his pants to pull out his cock. You moan as he pushes into you, so slow and languid you feel like you will pass out, the girth of him making you feel so vehemently full.
“Fuck baby bite me again,” he whispers, and you do as told sinking your teeth into the junction of his neck and shoulder, skin bruising under your teeth as he hisses, thrusting into you. You grind your hips down with each thrust, little tingles running over your skin from where the wax had dripped, leaving the spots more sensitive for Mingyu’s fingers to probe. The knot of orgasm is already at the base of your belly, coiled much too tight already with prior treatment. When Mingyu’s hand reaches between your bodies to push on your belly and by extension your bladder and somewhere his cock inside you, you whimper, so overstimulated so fucked out that a thin line of drool runs from the corner of your lip and you cum without warning, in spurts that send your body shuddering, splattering both of you with your cum.
You lick a stripe along Mingyu’s collarbone, little bruises blossoming on his skin in the wake of your cruel mouth and he too cums with a groan, holding onto your tightly, rutting into your almost roughly. Enough that it has you wincing when he slows down, the drag of his cock slightly grating.
He pulls out gently, trying his best not to jostle your limber body too much. But you know this is simply the preamble to whatever he has planned for later that night.
