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A guarded gaze swept over the room as he sat reclined in his seat, taking in the patrons of the Ring with an almost critical look. Byunghun never really meant to come off as cold or rude, but ever since he joined this circle he had decided he would keep himself as detached from the emotional aspect as possible. This was just about exploring sex with people that had a mind like him. He had to keep himself locked down and apparently he couldn’t do that without tucking away what felt like the real side of himself. 

The burn of his drink was starting to become a familiar tingle when he registered a man connected to a grey collar. Something about his appearance made a flicker of recognition as he realized that this man was probably his pet for the night and it made him steel himself all the more. 

When the guy in blue approached Byun, he gave him a cursory nod towards the seat next to him, an open invitation. “Only if you go by B-Bomb and know that French is one of the languages I know... then yes. I’m your lucky winner.” He didn’t mean for his words to drip in sarcasm, but it was his defense mechanism and the bored expression on his face just a mask. He would have hated himself if he were in the other man’s shoes, but it was just something that happened without his permission. 

“Shall we go over some arrangements before this gets truly started? I’m not... particularly fond of crossing people’s personal boundaries.” The jeweler had to stop himself from wincing at his own words. All that came was a slight squint of pain to his charcoal lined eyes as he took another drink to mask his discomfort behind the glass. 

bound ≽ b.bomb

With one last swipe to his hair, Minhyuk surveyed himself in his room mirror. He had a dark gray collar gently bound around his neck and he itching to know who had won him within this bid. He was given a very brief description of what his master looked like and Minhyuk felt himself tingle with excitement. This was one of the perks of the Ring; having these little events like this kept things rather exciting within the company.

After tying the small laces on his black leather shoes, he surveyed himself once more- this time paying more attention than his clothes than his hair. He had a crisp pastel blue dress shirt on, sleeves rolled up to his elbow tucked in to a pair of pressed, skinny black dress pants. His accessories were light, there was no point in overdressing for something that would end with him naked anyway. He adjusted the black leather belt around his waist and gently tapped the front of his shoe on the floor to make sure his foot was adjusted. He then left his own room and began making his way down to the bar to find his very own master.

Apparently he was average height and didn’t look friendly- that was all he had in trying to find him. Minhyuk guessed that the other would probably wave him over or maybe just stare at him when he entered; or something like that. He nodded and waved at a few people he recognized through the hallways, though he wasn’t sure he’d call himself a friend of them. He was just, well, known around, that’s all. Once he entered the bar area he ordered himself some random fruity drink and scanned the area. His eyes settled on a very particular person who looked like the room had frozen over. And the look he gave Minhyuk as soon as he saw the colour of his collar gave it away too.

After receiving the peach coloured drink he sauntered his way over to the other and slyly stood next to the man who had an amber liquid in his glass. Silently, he gestured for the two of them to sit briefly on the couches provided by the establishment.

“Salut,” he greeted, though his French was limited only because he had a few foreign clients. “Are you my lucky winner?”

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The time seemed to tick by at an excruciatingly slow pace and it didn’t help that Byunghun had horrible expectations of everyone. Such as, he expected people to be punctual and that meant showing up ten minutes early to a meeting, not fifteen minutes late. He was tapping his fingers delicately against the table in a nonsensical rhythm when he sees the blond and purple hair fly by the window and he knew his appointment had finally arrived. At least his muffin had helped him pass the time. 

Waiting expectantly for the boy to join him at the table, his eyes never left the window until he felt his phone vibrate on the table next to his coffee and he frowned a bit. Realizing more than enough time had passed for Vince to recognize him, he flicked at the lock screen to read the message. A part of Byun was feeling a bit cruel and he didn’t let anything register on his face as he let his gaze drift back outside for a moment.

Maybe the cute artist should have paid more attention to detail, it was in his craft wasn’t it? Byunghun was always running into his types, the whimsical, air headed ones that would forget their own body parts if they weren’t attached with skin and ligaments. But that was what got him here in the first place, wasn’t it? Expecting people to be like him, he was too narcissistic and needed to change. It was a slow process but it was happening. 

Sighing more to himself about giving into his stupid conscious than anything else, he lifted his gaze towards the door and waited for Vince to find his eyes in his scan of the shop. Clinking his thumb ring against his mug, he waited impatiently before he wiggled his fingers just enough in a beckoning gesture. Once his companion was opposite of him, he didn’t hide the clipped tone of his voice as he spoke first, “You’re late... I assume you got caught up in something?” 

collaboration ≽ vince

A haunting little sense of guilt had been following him since he’d made it out of the shop, having him check his watch on the entire bus ride. Meeting with loyal house clients upon request was an imperative unspoken rule, and his boss was never subtle about how seriously she took it. The initial ten scheduled minutes rolled into an entire hour of discussion on a predatory snake design and, this is the bad part, most of it had been his own excitable self’s fault. It’s surprisingly easy to forget about breathing itself when you’re immersed enough into something.

He has his phone out when he spots the coffee shop. A moment of hesitation has him wondering whether he should text out an apology for his delay, but he brushes the thought off and quickens his pace instead.

He’s vaguely aware of how silly he looks, popping his head through the ajar door before stepping inside, but he can’t help the habit, running a quick scan over the room. It’s useless, too – the few pictures of Scipio he’d briefly skimmed over were of little help in the task of identifying a stranger in a crowd. The vague sense of guilt intensifies by a fraction, regardless of how excusable he tells himself it is to forget a recent acquaintance’s face.

Taking a step away from the entrance, he digs back into his pocket to wipe out his phone. They really should have agreed on a dress code.

{ TO:  scipio }    »  hey i’m here. could you raise your hand maybe?

An honest, blunt I can’t actually remember what you look like, while reasonable in context, would probably seem harsher than necessary.

(On second thought, a dress code probably wouldn’t be the best way to go. Taemin would hardly remember anything about it.)

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chance encounters ≽ v

Well this was stupid, really fucking stupid but somehow Byunghun had gone and signed himself up for something he wasn’t sure he could handle. Perfect. If he had been cast as a pet, it might have been easier honestly, not being the one to call the shots, but no... here he was with a ticket and a key and a promise of a slave. Well fuck. He was so fucked. What the fuck was he going to do? 

The sherbet orange locks that fell in front of his eyes annoyed him and he shoved his bangs off his forehead as he continued to pace in the hallway near the elevators. Byun could do this, he could be a master to someone. Luckily the assignments weren’t going out until the next day and he still had time to prepare. That was always a plus. 

Shoving his hands into his pockets, the petite man continued to pace back and forth over the same five feet of carpet. His head was bowed as he watched his shoes sweep over the carpet before he nearly stepped on a pair of tattered tennis shoes that made him look up to apologize. The words hung from his lips, dripping out slowly, “I’m s- oh...” but were cut short like a faucet being slammed off in annoyance as his pupils dilated and those nerves he felt increased ten fold.  

Byunghun knew those eyes anywhere, their shape had been what made him come back for more and the stretch of those lips were ones that left him begging. It was if the vault of memories he had locked away so secure came crashing through him a blustering wave as he stared slack mouthed for a moment. Laughter and smiles and sun soaked memories that were seen through rose colored glasses made him almost visibly shudder before his gaze swept down and locked on the collar around his ex’s neck. And suddenly a wave of nausea passed over him, their last days with their horrible fights and all of the shouting. The regret and dread and bitter loneliness that followed for weeks after as the sheets grew to only smell of his cologne and no one else’s. 

It was too much and he probably would have stumbled if he hadn’t already stopped walking, but he swayed uncertainly on his feet for a moment. “Tae...” The name came out as a breathless whisper and he was reaching out before he even knew it. It had to be a dream, reality wouldn’t be this cruel. It wouldn’t let his eyes betray the war of emotions that stormed through him at that very moment, it wouldn’t force him to face the one person he had latched onto since he was a teen... it wouldn’t make him realize it had to have always been about the sex if he was here with that collar. 

His fingers flinched and he brushed over the column of his neck and the leather, the touch feather light. It had to be real. It was real. This was his life and he felt sick to his stomach as his hand dropped and he cleared his throat. It was real and he was here and he had to deal with it. His gaze flickered for a moment, collecting himself as he swallowed and stood a bit straighter, putting on his business face as it came to be known, but his tone gave him away as he spoke with a tenderness he didn’t mean to show. “How... so how have you been?”  

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bound ≽ b.bomb

It would have been nice to think that no nervousness dripped through his veins, but it did, slow and lethal like a poison as he stood hovering at the mini bar. Byunghyun wasn’t the shy type or one to second guess himself, but when he had received the name and room, there was a lead weight in his stomach. There were certain things that the man had shied away from simply because he wasn’t confident that he could handle them. One of those things had been taking charge of someone else as his pet... giving orders or anything of the sort left an uncomfortable feeling squirming beneath his skin that just made him want to scratch at his forearms. 

Pouring out a drink, a sigh escaped his lips as he took up the glass and stepped away, making his way towards the seat settled in room. His shoulders were slumped slightly and wrinkles were starting to form on the previously pressed white dress shirt. He hadn’t gone all out, a simple tasteful outfit was all he deemed fit for the occasion and it suited his features well. Taking his seat, he sipped at the amber fire, swirling it in his mouth before downing it. 

A part of him felt he couldn’t be trusted with someone else, but this time... this time there would be clear rules and guidelines set up. Byun would have a brief discussion with his partner and they would have it all out on the table before it began and that thought alone began to lift a weight off his shoulders. He began to sit up straighter and the pinched look on his face smoothed away to one of calm, cool, collected confidence that almost naturally radiated off of him. So there he say, waiting for his prize to walk through the door, certain that he wouldn’t fuck this up. 

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L.Joe Cut in Disappearance Noire M  

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meeting ≽ très

Lounging was something that the jewelry maker had started to excel at when he moved to Europe and would attend to high end social events where women teetered by on heels and the swells of their asses swayed in a cantering rhythm that always seemed to catch his attention. There was a glass of Chardonnay in his fingers, hanging delicately from its rim as his gaze swept the room of their meeting place. 

He was intrigued when he had gotten a message from someone whose code name reminded him of lascivious French parties and bell like laughter. It wasn’t hard for him to say yes, to see what he would find at the end of the line. Briefly, just briefly, he hoped that maybe he would get the chance to let words he used not too long ago roll off his tongue. Byun had found he missed the French and Italian languages just as much as he had missed speaking Hangul when he first moved out of his country.

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collaboration ≽ vince

Having a day off was something that was momentous in Byunghun’s life and here he was, waiting in a coffee shop, staring out of a window pensively. There were things he needed to do, like clean house or stock up on groceries, watch a bit of Merlin and finish up his marathon watching... So many things to do, and yet, there he was. 

There had been an agreement of some sort between himself and this person named Vince on the messaging network the Ring provided, to meet up and talk. Oddly enough, it wasn’t about when and where to have sex or to see if they clicked on an attraction level, but it was about their shared love of art and beauty that had brought about the meeting. Somehow they shared their professions and found that the two fields could come together beautifully and they wouldn’t ever have to lay a finger on one another. 

The coffee was warm and tasted all too sweet, leaving a caramel stickiness to his tongue, but Byun didn’t really mind. It was good to relax too as he waited, checking his phone for more messages from ‘Vince’. A part of him wanted to call him Vincent, but that wasn’t the name given on the little profile he had glanced over in disinterest. 

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longing ≽ prospero

There was a mounting pressure just behind Byunghun’s eyes as he took off the magnifying goggles and stared down at the inner intricate workings of a watch for a customer. He was almost done and it’s owner would come to pick it up the next morning. Glancing at the clock that hung on the wall next to his work bench, his lips twitched into a smile when he realized he could spare a break for a take away dinner before finishing his work. 

Patting at his pockets briefly, he makes sure he has his wallet and phone before stepping out and heading down the sidewalk towards his favorite Thai shop that made the best massaman he’d ever tasted since his days in France. Byun averted his gaze from the group of protesters he had seen camped out for the past few days in front of some big name company’s shop. He never stopped to bother to ask what was going on or why they were there, but he had noticed a tall gangly number that screamed twink and man’s man at the same time. 

Byun prided himself on not being creepy for once, not seeking out that tousled dark hair in the small troop of college students. He was doing a lot better than he had in previous ventures between the food place and work, once he had actually stopped and pretended to be a part of it, scooting closer to the unnamed guy as discreetly as possible. But he had fled before he could even get close enough to ask his name, it was rather embarrassing, but he wasn’t to trying to get someone’s attention while they passionately shouted chants and waved signs. 

With a soft huff, the craftsman pushed forward, passing the group with his head lowered for once in his life. Usually he was a proud man, lifting his chin and straightening his shoulders, but not today, he was on a mission to rid himself of pesky thoughts and an aching stomach. Byunghun was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he didn’t see the girl sitting on the sidewalk as he tried to weave through people. He couldn’t stop himself from stepping on her thigh just enough to leave pressure before he tried to twist away, yelping out an apology as he crashed into two or three people in some sort of formation that he was sure gave their demands more emphasis. The three toppled onto the ground and he scraped himself on the concrete when he tried to tussle away from them to minimize the damage, hissing when he hit his knee. 

“Shit, are you lot alright? I didn’t... I mean... Fuck it was an accident, promise.” He was busy with his hands, trying to stand and to help up the people he probably gave more than a few bruises to. That was when he found himself staring at the eyes he had been trying to avoid (secretly seek out) in the group and he mentally cursed himself as he held out the scraped palm, hoping to help him up in the process. “So sorry ‘bout that... really I am.” 

[bunjoey-blog]

Smut Sentence Starters

“Beg for it.”

“I want to fuck you right now.”

“I’m going to make it hurt.”

“I’ll make sure you can’t walk tomorrow.”

“Touch yourself for me.”

“I’m your Master and you’ll do what I say.”

“It’s not going to fit!”

“I’m the only one that would ever fuck you.”

“Spread your legs for me.”

[text] What are you wearing?

“Get on your knees.”

“Did we fuck last night?”

“I didn’t know you were so kinky.”

“I think you need to be spanked.”

“You look good tied up.”

“Put on a show for me.”

“I’m not wearing any underwear.”

[text] I didn’t mean to send those pictures!

“I think the condom broke.”

“You know you like when I tease you.”

“You’ve been a bad boy/girl.”

“We should try adding a third person.”

“You don’t have to be so gentle.”

“Wrong hole!”

“Bend over.”

“I’m never getting on my knees for you again.”

“You’re going to break me.”

“Fuck me.”

“You belong to me.”

“Harder.”

“Punish me.”

“I’m gonna cum!”

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plots page has been added. 

Update.

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Update.

plots page has been added. 

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{ » scipio } So that's your type, huh?

A smirk crawled over Byun’s lips as he looked down at the message. It was always peculiar how someone could so easily assume things about him just because he bedded a person. 

[ Daniel ⇉ Tall dark and brooding? ] 

[ Daniel ⇉ Of course he is. ] 

[ Daniel ⇉ Haven’t you ever read Twilight? Psychopathy is in. ]

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“i miss Angels”

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Jealous messages

[MSG]: Did you have fun with you-know-who last night?

[MSG]: I guess my company doesn't interest you any more.

[MSG]: What do you see in that guy/girl?

[MSG]: (S)he's kind of hot... you think?

[MSG]: Is he bigger than me?

[MSG]: When's the wedding?

[MSG]: I heard you and ___ are an item.

[MSG]: Is there... someone else?

[MSG]: I never agreed to an open relationship!

[MSG]: Does she do that thing that I do for you?

[MSG]: I see you'll flirt with just about anyone.

[MSG]: I'm a fool for thinking I was special to you.

[MSG]: How serious is it between you two?

[MSG]: You've been spending a lot of time with ___ recently.

[MSG]: So you tell all girls/guys that, I see.

[MSG]: So that's your type, huh?

[MSG]: Who's better in bed, me or him/her?

[MSG]: I can't bear to see you with someone else.

[MSG]: You're just a slut.

[MSG]: Just curious... not like I'm jealous or anything...

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