𝔥𝑒𝑙𝑙 ᵒᶠ 𝒶 𝕸𝐀𝐍.

[notmarine]

#388s' r18+ sideblog. no minors allowed. viewer discretion is advised. i write for character exploration, so no plotting / ships necessary. 🧡

sexual preferences. usfw alphabet. sex, gender, and love.

[openl1lly]

IT  SEEMS  TO  HAVE  WORKED.     For  that  slither  of  a  moment  in  which  Dae-ho  speaks  to  him  like  a  person,  there  is  success  to  be  found.  But  just  as  any  of  its  kind  around  Min-su,  it  is  dead  and  gone,    buried  at  the  hands  of  a  solitary  line.    Why  does  encouragement  feel  that  way?  When  did  it  start?  He  remembers  there  used  to  be  a  bittersweetness  to  how  it  rang  –    some  hope  blended  into  his  cynicism  which  allowed  him  to  at  least  smile.     It  does  not  exist  now,  with  time.  There  is  no  hope.  There  is  only  the  truth  that  Dae-ho  remains  Dae-ho  and    he  remains  poor  pathetic  little  Min-su  who  needs  to  be  cheered  on  to  perform.

The  shirt,  he  thinks,    would  have  been  the  perfect  tool  with  which  to  muffle  him.  He  wonders  if  he  can  simply  use  it  now,  though  the  thought  is  abandoned  the  minute  it  insinuates  he  cannot  see  his  face  as  it  is  when  he  chooses.    That,  in  and  of  itself,  irritates  him  in  that  it  does  not.    Paradox  of  spite  and  some  sick  sister  to  endearment,  perhaps,  that  he  does  not  want  to  meet.  Okay,  okay,  okay.

It  would  be  better  if  it's  off,  yes.           Then  he  can  see  what  he  does  better.  Then  it  is  skin  to  deal  with.  But  to  hoist  and  pull  it  upward  would  land  some  tension  at  the  bed  of  Dae-ho's  neck.  In  him,  again,  the  spite  and  sister  yearn  to  get  their  wishes  -  contradictory  things;    it's  fine,  how  many  times  has  he  made  you  uncomfortable?  and     no,  no,  no.

He  lifts  himself  to  sit,    still  atop  Dae-ho  as  though  in  desperation  to  keep  him  there.    His  hand  moves,  though  not  at  his  own  volition,  to  where  he  had  planted  the  kiss.  Index  fiddles  with  the  area,  circling  to  keep  Min-su  from  shattering  and  leaving  Dae-ho  to  his  desires  alone.    He  looks  up  at  him.    "maybe  ...  I  could  ...  tear  it."    A  tilt  of  head,  knot  of  brows  that  is  equal  parts  wanting  and  concerned  with  the  question  yet  to  spill.     "  ...  is  it  expensive?"

[notmarine]

NOT EXACTLY A THOUGHT PROCESS DAE-HO HAS EVER ALLOWED HIMSELF,　but what is another first amongst such a vast litany of debauched,　fledgling experiences?　min-su suggests it,　and,　much to his surprise,　dae-ho finds exhilaration bundling itself inside.　the sort of sickly amusement to spread a grin across his lips.　a sight he cannot at all fathom,　and a sight he thereby must see in execution:　watching tiny,　pitiful,　pathetic thing that min-su is,　wrestling with swathe of cotton fabric and somehow prying it apart with pitiful,　pathetic fingers.　

❛❛　you want to?　❜❜　it’s probably better off torn to shreds in some capacity.　it sits miserably upon his frame,　clinging too-tight against his chest,　digging into his shoulders and revealing every line of his back should he ever have the gall to lean forward.　it is better off with an existence of whatever min-su decides,　specifically,　or perhaps dae-ho already finds himself too intoxicated by arousal to say otherwise.　it’s just a stupid shirt.　a stupid,　plain shirt,　of which he must have a hundred in his closet.　❛❛　fuck,　you wanna see me that bad that you gotta tear it off me?　❜❜　he isn’t sure if he means it playfully or scornfully;　does he speak in earnest,　then,　or is this another slip of the tongue aimed to continuously impel min-su onward?　what difference does it make?　all roads are one,　now.

maybe the snarling beast he is still does not see min-su as capable.　maybe it is all a cruel joke on him,　and dae-ho extricates sick amusement from watching him struggle.　stiffness ground up into min-su,　still,　petulant and loathsome as ever,　says otherwise.　that dae-ho has something to gain from this beyond that of harassment and belittlement.　that he may,　even if only for a short while,　entertain the idea that they are equals.　[　aren’t they,　then?　what does it say of his character to permit debasement from plaintive little min-su?　what does it say of him when he wants more of min-su?　more,　more,　more.　a test of how far he may push the envelope.　]

[openl1lly]

IT'S  KIND  OF  OKAY     …    until  it  is  vile.    He  feels  that  tension  in  his  jaw,     the  upstream  of  frustration  and  desire  made  manifest  into  biting  and  pulling.    For  a  moment  he  even  considers  the  possibility  he  may  be  enjoying  this.    Might  know  that  he  is,  somewhere.  The  indulgence  of  doing,  beyond  his  instinct  or  upon  it  or  whatever  the  fuck  else.    But  then  he  does  it  again,  Dae-ho.     He  speaks.    Belittles  him.     Is  that  all  he  can  say?  Always?  Did  his  mother  not  teach  him  to  hold  his  tongue?

Then  again,  Min-su  wouldn't  know  what  a  mother  would  say.  His  hardly  counted.  She  could  not  have  killed  him,  but,    oh  well.     She  should  have.  Because  he  will  never  live  long  enough  to    'have  it  in  him.'     It,  here,  being  grasping  at  Dae-ho's  face  and  yelling.     SHUT  UP.  SHUT  UP.  SHUT  UP.  SHUT  UP.  SHUT  UP.  SHUT  UP.

Instead,  he  huffs  into  his  neck.  He  decides  that  perhaps  if  he  remains  silent,  Dae-ho  will  follow  suit.  That  he  would  hear  his  own  words  and  find  shame  somewhere  deep  within  him.    He  still  refuses  his  mouth,  though  his  knee  shifts  against  the  bed,  and  his  hand  swims  to  find  rope  and  entrap  wrist  along  with  it,     as  though  in  need  of  a  reminder.     He  presses  the  other  to  Dae-ho's  stomach.     Settle  down,  or  something,     he  tries  with  a  gentle  push.  The  bucking  had  been  felt.  Liked,  to  some  capacity,    but  he  wonders  if  it  would  scathe  Dae-ho  to  comment  on  it  without  words.

Angling  his  head  like  wounded  stray,    he  perceives  his  work.     Markings  not  to  be  permanent.  Things  that  would  not  last.     He  doesn't  like  that  there  is  a  temporary  air  to  it  all,    before  he  returns  to  simple  mouse  in  trap.  Perhaps  ...  if  he  were  to  go  lower,  away  from  his  face,    Min-su  may  be  able  to  let  the  horror  go  long  enough  to  leave  a  stain.    Wine  is  left  un-minded  until  it  meets  white  shirt.  White  shirt,  then,  may  be  Dae-ho's  chest.    The  wall  he  so  desperately  wishes  to  break.

Min-su  finds  his  eyes,  on  instinct.    His  own  are  still  as  pathetic  as  ever.  Incapable  of  what  he  is  about  to  do,  though  he  begs  himself  to  run  away.  He  wonders  if  he  can  confuse  Dae-ho  with  it  –  that  quality  he  hates  in  himself.  Below  that  wonder  lies  the  intrinsic  question  of  why  it  matters,  of  course,  but  that  is  for  his  reddened  eyes  to  act  upon.

The  rope  is  left,    replaced  by  the  side  of  Dae-ho's  cheek.     If  he  could  crush  it,  he  might  have  tried.  Just  to  keep  him  quiet.  Instead,  it  is  cupped,  held  like  some  fragile  object,  if  only  by  virtue  of  Min-su's  inability  to  destroy.  Then  further  down  it  slides,  with  all  of  him,    holding  side  of  rib  with  the  very  same  gesture.     Pure  contrast,  almost,  to  the  digging  of  teeth  into  skin  and  muscle.     Didn't  think  you  had  it  in  you.  Didn't  think  you  had  it  in  you.  Didn't  think  you  had  it  in  you.    Fuck  you,  Dae-ho,     he  says  with  his  teeth  ...    and  then  immediately  holds  himself  accountable.     Inward,  though  outward  he  moves  with  the  same  momentum  to  press  a  kiss,  benign,  where  he  had  bitten.

[notmarine]

what?　he cannot imagine min-su taking it upon himself to be coy,　now,　restricting any of the newfound persuasion impelling him forward　—　but the trek onwards seems to have ceased,　and greedy,　foul beast he is finds the audacity to be disappointed in this fact.　hand at his stomach as its own cessation　//　unbearable,　truly unbearable,　there is a need for friction and he demands it now,　demands to grind himself and seek whatever contact he may.　DAE-HO IS PITIFUL,　NOW,　shooting out one final buck up of his hips before weakly receding into himself.　why is the shoe on the other foot?　why has he allowed this to play out the way it has?

[　wouldn’t it be so easy?　for the roles have to entirely reversed?　to grab at min-su’s pathetic little wrists and pin him down,　levy all that strength and bulk he has over him in his favor,　wrestle down weak little thing and clamp him betwixt his jaws until he may meaningfully reconcile with his feelings.　crushing min-su would probably not make him feel better.　grossly,　perversely,　dae-ho likes this better.　and isn’t that so strange?　]

maybe he is the gay one.　maybe it doesn’t matter,　now.

there is the graze of teeth,　then,　against his chest,　and all of it is sensation that dae-ho never before laid claim to desiring.　he wants more,　and isn’t that absurd?　that he has come to resent the cloth stretched by the breadth of his frame because it,　in any way,　inhibits the contact between them?　how absurd.　unfathomable.　min-su touches him so gently,　and he cannot comprehend the contact.　why?　why does it feel good?　it’s not supposed to,　is it?　mind fires in every direction,　craving both the clamp of his teeth onto him and whatever softness manifests at his side.　

❛❛　now i’m wishing you took my shirt off before all this.　❜❜　you,　specifically,　took it off;　a responsibility he evades by sheer force of allowing min-su to do onto him.　for min-su to call the shots,　and dae-ho to sit as the derisive spectator.　the act wouldn’t be too difficult now,　he thinks,　merely a bit awkward of a maneuver to force fabric over his shoulders.　fuck,　maybe he really does want it.　maybe the kiss against the bite mark,　then,　only serves to spin his confusion around worse.　tentatively,　gross and greedy,　❛❛　you wanna do that again?　❜❜　please do it again,　he wants to say,　but he has relegated himself to the role of passive observer.　❛❛　c’mon,　min-su,　you can do it.　❜❜

[openl1lly]

DAE-HO  TALKS  TOO  MUCH.    It  makes  his  blood  boil  in  such  a  way.  You  really  don't  have  to  be  scared,  he  says.  Like  he  knows  min-su.     False  sense  of  security  at  best,  scrutiny  at  worst.     It  tremors  him  further,  though  not  quite  with  that  fear  addressed.  He  still  does  -  he  fears  Dae-ho  and  his  arms  and  his  grin  -  but  perhaps  more  powerfully,    he  is  riddled  with  spite.     Even  now,  here,  the  shackled  monster  teases  his  captor.  It  doesn't  matter  what  he  ties  him  up  with  or  how  he  does  it,  Dae-ho  will  always  be  compelled  to  flounce  his  superiority.

Min-su  wishes  he  was  daring.     He  really  does.  Show  me  what  you  want  to  do.    "I  want  to  ..."    Hurt  you  just  a  little  bit.  Just  for  a  moment.  I  promise  I'll  comfort  you  after.  I'll  make  it  up  to  you.  I  will.    "  ...   "       It  won't  come  out.    Why  would  it?    Dae-ho  or  not,    it  is  impossible  to  let  such  sentiment  free  itself  and  slither  'round  definition  of  muscles  and  chest.

And  if  words  are  difficult,  imagine  action.     Imagine  what  it  takes  to  move.     To  convert  thought  into  tangible    THING  DONE,     Min-su  would  need  to  become  some  other  thing.    To  have  energy  he  cannot  dream  of.

He,  again,  stares.  Dae-ho  is,  he  has  decided  long  ago,  a  moron.  He  will  see  the  tears  pushing  into  the  beds  of  his  eyes  and  think  that  is  fear  again  -  nerves.  But  it  is  not.  It  is  frustration,  plain  and  simple.  His  desire  unmet,  yet,  and  Dae-ho's  words  pushing  him  against  cement  and  forcing  him  to  remain  until  it  dries.    He  wants  to  show  him,  out  of  spite,  what  he  wishes  to  do.    His  suppression  of  himself,  herein,  is  build-up  of  ...  not-quite  courage.    Synthetic  daring.     Horse  tranquilizer  posing  as  other  better  thing.

Min-su  decides  to  use  it  just  a  little.     He  leans  forward,  matches  gaze  to  gaze,  then  draws  it  down  to  lips.  Even  plasters  his  little  fingers,  calloused  things  in  spite  of  themselves  against  the  start  of  dreadful  jawline.    He  doesn't  know,  in  full,  whether  Dae-ho  wants  a  kiss.     But  he  can  guess.  In  his  own  way,  he  is  able  to  put  things  together.  He  is  able  to  look  at  the  encounter  still  pounding  against  the  back  of  his  head  and  gather  that.   strong  man  wishes,  always,  to  show  his  strength  through  something.

That  is  why  he  doesn't  allow  it.       When  he  is  close,  too  close,  when  his  tears  have  fallen  from  his  own  cheeks  to  Dae-ho's,     he  slowly  steers  his  head  away  to  the  neck.    Hides  himself  from  predator's  gaze,  curling  though  his  hand  remains  intact  at  the  base  of  Dae-ho's  jaw  ...  and  thinks.  He  thinks  about  how  much  he  despises  what  he  is  told.  How  much  he  despises  mention  of  Marines  and  Marines  and  Marines  and  Marines  and          OH,  there,  he  is  upset  enough  to  bite  him.           First  gently,  too  gently,  like  some  ghost  of  breath  on  skin,  and  then  with  spite.  He  is  going  to  die.  This  is  a  step  too  far,  and     he  will  die.     He  wants  to  keep  crying.  His  hand  has  left  Dae-ho's  jaw  to  pull  at  his  hair  instead.    He  is  going  to  fucking  die.

[notmarine]

AH.　perhaps the most unsettling thing of all is that min-su does,　eventually,　move in to act,　to permit what was at first mere jeering taunt from dae-ho into executed behavior.　did he want min-su to act?　or did he speak of sheer disbelief that someone so small and pitiful could ever carry out his whims,　desires,　and wants?　and,　moreover,　who permitted someone so pathetic to have such things?　[　BUT HE’S SO CURIOUS.　SO,　SO CURIOUS.　what if it turned out that min-su was the normal one,　here,　and the extent of his desires were leaving dae-ho on his own?　that the most noble　—　and simultaneously erotic　—　thing he could fathom was a complete and utter lack of giving into temptation?　not min-su,　never min-su.　]

tiny,　pitiful creature leans in.　touches him,　even,　and his heart nearly stops beating from within his chest.　IT SHOULDN’T BE LIKE THIS,　HE THINKS.　for a man to be gripping his jaw is only valid in service of violence,　like the stabilization that precedes the crack of knuckles against his lineaments.　notably,　min-su does not punch him,　and that is what makes this all worse.　he could not punch min-su,　then,　even if he wanted to,　even if aggression would somehow resolve the uncertainty threaded through him.　min-su has restrained him,　caged the snarling beast that still pushes muzzle against the bars of its enclosure.　so he is harmless,　and the shoe is on the other foot.　

will min-su kiss him?　he has never envisioned a man’s lips on his own,　never permitted the thought to cross his mind beyond that of mindless impulsivity.　[　or anyone’s,　really.　any illusory fantasy with a girl crush long forgotten is enshrouded with shame,　a guilt he cannot place for subjecting her to such longing.　he should not covet the softer side of physicality;　what is a man that craves a cuddle?　hardly a man at all.　he is a real man,　a tough man.　the breadth of his chest tells him as much.　tough as sin.　]　he isn’t sure if he wants min-su to kiss him.　or,　perhaps more importantly,　he isn’t sure what he wants at all.　maybe he wants min-su off of him completely,　wants him to free his wrists from their poorly-tied restraints.　probably not that.　he wants this to continue on;　coaxed stiffness insists upon it.

then there is teeth.　it is sudden,　and then it is not:　scrape against his fluttering pulse-point all but shuts away dae-ho’s capacity to think,　leaves him slack-jawed beyond that of the wanton moan clambering from his throat.　how gross and uncharacteristic.　where,　oh where,　has this behavior come from?　and why does it feel so natural?　fingers have woven into the strands of hair that fall loosely by his neck,　and he just　—　he　—　he can’t　—　the bucking upward of his hips is involuntary,　a desperate seeking of friction wherever he may greedily lap it up.　

and if he is greedy,　allow him to be greedy to the fullest extent:　lips are pulled taut in self-satisfied smirk,　mouth parted just enough for any lecherous panting to pass through unbidden.　❛❛　didn’t think you actually had it in you.　❜❜　a dare,　perhaps,　or a deeper twist of the knife.　dae-ho isn’t certain of the distinction,　only that he knows he wants more.　

[openl1lly]

HE  FUMBLES    with  the  rope.  He  is  himself  in  every  moment,  in  that  he  fails  to  be  so.    Dae-ho's  words  are  a  troublesome  thing.     Or  irksome,  perhaps,  is  the  right  word,  for  they  mean  about  as  much  as  Min-su's  apologies  and  fumbling  pleas  for  aid.    Nothing,  that  is,  to  him.     He  doesn't  have  to  be  nervous,  but  he  is.  Trembling  and  slipping  rope  around  the  wrong  wrist    (    his  own,  his  own,  oh  god,  it's  his  own,  turn  it  over,  slip  it  out  again,  try  again,  fail  again,  why  does  one  side  not  look  normal  and  the  other  feel  unreal?  This  was  a  bad  idea.  This  was  a  horrible  decision.  This  shall  not  pass,  the  way  everything  else  does  not.    ) 

Ah,  but  it's  something  to  him.     To  see  the  dumb  jerk,  tiger  baring  its  teeth  and  terrifying  the  little  lamb,  caged.    There  is  almost  a  push  in  it.    Completion  is  imminent  not  for  its  process  but  for  its  reward.  He  does  not  know  what  the  hell  he  is  doing,  or  where  the  fuck  he's  going  to  take  this  when  he  has  Dae-ho  restricted,  but  a  spark  in  him  gives  momentum  to  the  fumbling   —     intrigue.  He  will  call  it  that.  He  will  lie  and  call  it  that.

Min-su  manages,  eventually.  The  knot  is  something  a  marine  may  scoff  at,  the  way  it  is  unruly  and  unsure  of  its  state.  One  wrist  is  tighter  than  the  other.  Min-su  would  have  untied  it  and  redone  the  work  had  he  not  drowned  in  his  embarrassment  prior.  The  man  is  red  in  such  a  way  that  blood  must  have  been  poured,  absorbed  somehow  by  his  ears  and  nose,     leaving  some  effect  on  sweaty  cheeks  and  watering  eyes.  He  does  not  look  like  a  man  who  has  another  tied.  He  does  not  even  act  like  it,  yet.    The  way  his  palm  travels  down  Dae-ho's  forearm    with  a  gentleness  that  contradicts  the  strength  of  his  mindless  knot.  He  almost  wants  to  ask  if  this  is  okay.  Almost.

Instead,  he  draws  back,  slowly  brings  himself  to  look  at  what  he  had  done  and  decide  he  is  still  not  safe,  but  may  now  be  able  to  flee  faster  than  the  predator  may  pounce.  He  contemplates,  for  a  moment,  staring  into  Dae-ho's  eyes  with  the  undefined  quality  of  his  perpetual  sorrow,  simply  leaving  him  there  and  walking  out.  Locking  the  door.     Watching  through  the  keyhole  as  he  unties  himself  and  tries  to  leave,  get  it  open.

But  then  he  is  sorry.  He  is  sorry  for  the  thought,     because  Dae-ho  is  a  tiger  only  by  likeness.  Nothing  has  hurt  Min-su  more  than  humans,  of  which  Dae-ho  is  one,  and  towards  which  he  cannot  help  that  slither  of  empathy.  He  is  always  down,  down,  down  below.  With  that  view  he  does  not  see  clearly,  but  he  sees  a  lot.  Enough.  All  that  falls  beneath  leveled  eyes.

"  ...  you  look  ...  better  now."    He  expresses  a  thought  ...  and  immediately  regrets  it.  His  shoulders  curl,  though  the  rest  of  him  attempts  to  rectify  it  by  reaching  out.  The  very  same  fingertips  are  able  to  do  something  so  simple,  yet  so  wanted.  All  with  the  tremor  that  makes  them  Min-su's,    they  touch  Dae-ho's  arm,     spiral  around  the  definition  of  his  bicep,  and  slither  gently  to  the  tip  of  his  hair.  Yanking  it  would  almost  be  cathartic,  though  he  withholds.  He  returns  to  his  act  of  viewing,  as  if  studying  Dae-ho  under  a  microscope  recently  installed  into  the  irises  which  pin  themselves  so  wistfully  to  the  locks  now  fiddled  with  so  unsurely.         I  want.  I  want.  i  want.  I  want.            "What  do  you  want  me  to  do?"    Fucking  shit.    And  murmured  so  miserably,  too.

@notmarine

[notmarine]

everything min-su does is so fucking awkward.　dae-ho isn’t sure if the sight makes him pity the other even more than he already does　[　and,　really,　how does one top that?　how does one feast their eyes upon min-su and not think to themselves that he is little beyond the world’s most pathetic creature?　]　or if it makes him want to call the whole thing off entirely.　sat back,　watching,　observing,　allowing min-su’s actions to run their course before he forces a meaningful interjection of chest-driven babbling.　speaking something into existence to frustrate min-su further,　perhaps;　a well-meaning ally-ship that is never taken well by any beyond he who is broad in the chest and shoulders.　FOR ONCE,　dae-ho has the foresight to hold his tongue.　call it a curiosity,　perhaps.　something impelling him onward in a tryst with fellow man　—　can min-su really be called as much?　he is small and soft-eyed and pitiful,　and he feels the same protective twinge in his gut in regarding opposite man as he would for any helpless woman　—　that otherwise does not call his identity into question.

[　who is worse,　herein?　the one allowing things done onto him,　or he who does in the first place?　dae-ho is little beyond that of a passive observer,　allowing min-su to act how he wishes,　permitting whatever behavior is extended towards him in this exchange.　by comparison,　it is min-su’s fault,　is it not?　with his pitiful little fingers that struggle now to bundle rope around dae-ho’s wrists.　what is wrong with min-su that makes him want to do this?　what is wrong with dae-ho that makes him want to allow it?　]

the ropework is…　shabby,　though he lacks a frame of reference to measure it against otherwise.　and min-su　—　this tiny,　pitiful little thing　—　looks so damn distressed;　dae-ho does not have the heart to correct him.　WHAT DOES IT MATTER,　ANYWAYS?　no matter how clumsily the act has been carried out,　min-su has succeeded in tying his wrists.　he could stand to have a little more confidence in his abilities,　or at least control himself enough such that dae-ho does not feel guilty in being straddled by tiny,　pitiful fellow in the first place.　but then there is a caress of hand against soft plane of skin,　and the scrutiny escapes him.　for a moment,　it is all human contact,　something soft and incorruptible enough to beckon the soft widening of his eyes.　min-su touches him more,　then,　and his breath jumps from where it is slowly drawn inward through his nose.　what is otherwise a calm gesture,　sat gently with no expectation of how entanglement betwixt them would play out.　maybe he wants the touch at his bicep,　wants min-su to feel where his muscles are developed most,　and maybe this desire does not make him feel guilty.　could it be?　in its place,　is this radiating enthusiasm?　an amusement,　perhaps,　delineated by a show of bared teeth?

❛❛　you think so?　❜❜　he gives a soft chuckle,　near inaudible with how head droops down,　hair falling over his face.　what an odd guy,　that min-su is.　wanting to tie men up and thinking that their projected image,　like this,　is paramount.　are you gay,　min-su?　it’s delusional,　maybe.　dae-ho almost wants to kiss him.　A MERE WHIM OF THE PREDATOR INSTINCT,　PERHAPS,　wanting to draw weak prey in to where he may snap jaws open and break his neck in one fell swoop.　❛❛　huh?　think the cards are,　uh,　in your hands　here.　…you can do whatever you want.　❜❜　how gross and uncharacteristic.　where is the dae-ho that likes to take charge,　and what has min-su done with him?　how can min-su be to blame for this?　❛❛　you really don’t have to be scared.　do you need to take a minute?　take a breath?　you don’t have to get so worked up.　❜❜　

AND ISN’T HE SO KIND?　isn’t this just the dae-ho to adore?　he,　who must clearly know better than min-su　—　he who makes demands of man who is flush against him with legs astride,　who touches his hair so softly that it is almost as though he does not exist to begin with　—　who stares to him with such revolting pity.　are you gay,　min-su?　he almost wants to ask it,　wants the words to crawl out of his mouth and over his lips before he may dignify the exchange with an attempt at controlling himself.

❛❛　come on,　min-su.　show me what you want to do.　❜❜

[ozempicofficial]

[lycanshelby]

Starting a collection

[notmarine]

not even remotely usfw but..... Body #thinking...

[notmarine]

it's sunday!

😏

daeho arms

daeho chest

Voting ended onOct 13, 2025

[notmarine]

happy trail

[openl1lly]

@notmarine  :    [  BONDAGE  ]  ;  the  sender  ties  the  receiver  up.  +  reverse  WHOAAAA

THERE'S  SOMETHING  TO  BE  SAID      about  having  Dae-ho  here.  Something  far  from  sweet,  in  how  it  finds  him.  This  contraption  of  relief  he  is  no  longer  trapped  with  him  and      the  revelation  he  would  very  much  enjoy  some  reversal.     How  many  times  has  it  been,  now,  that  the  other  has  managed  to  snake  his  way  around  his  neck  and  terrify  him  with  just  the  sound  of  his  voice.     Even  now,  here,  with  doors  easily  un-lockable  and  blinds  drawn  down,     he  finds  that  feeling  creeping  up  on  him.  The  what  if.  What  if  Dae-ho  still  does  something  with  those  arms,  something  wanted  and  foul?    Would  Min-su  be  able  to  fight  him?

No,  no  he  would  not.    And  from  this  comes  a  desire  rooted  elsewhere,    though  it  suffices  to  settle  his  nerves.

It's  not  often  that  he  is  able  to  move  at  all,  the  pebble  that  he  is,  so  perhaps  it  may  come  as  a  revelation  that  he  is  able  to.  Rope  in  hand,     he  climbs  atop  the  bed  with  the  tact  of  a  child  learning  how  to  horse-ride,   a  sloppiness  to  the  rise  of  his  thighs  and  the  rustling  of  fabric  over  arms  as  it  seethes  against  bedsheets.  He  finds  Dae-ho  eventually,    his  lap  before  his  face.     He  doesn't  realize  he  has  fully  straddled  him  until  he  reaches  for  his  hand  and  notes  the  proximity  of  his  chest  to  his  forward  motion.  He  could  swear  his  hair  is  pushed  ever-so-gently  to  his  forehead,  just  from  how  close  he  is  to  that  ...  wall.

He  stills,  looks  below,  then  up  at  him  –    always  up,  always  up,  why  always  up?  he  doesn't  like  that.    "  ...  You  –   could  you...  Can  I  –  "    He  reaches  out,  slightly,  hand  extended  to  where  Dae-ho's  wrist  lies,    but  not  quite  taking  it.     He  asks  for  it  with  the  want  in  his  eyes  and  the  outstretch  of  his  fingertips.     "  ...  please?"

[notmarine]

the way he regards min-su is something earnest,　entirely unfettered by expectation;　he who is dragged into every pitfall with eyes wide open.　[　DAE-HO HAS NOT WITNESSED EVERYTHING.　this much is true.　]　but he cannot help his curiosity in what exactly would happen when the control is,　for once,　dropped gently into min-su’s palms.　an aberration of what reality demands versus what he may do to personally impact the course of things.　in this way,　it is dae-ho who observes,　allows things to play out before him without much meaningful intervention.　it is dae-ho who cranes his neck considerately as min-su finds contact at his lap,　and it is dae-ho who must look down,　in turn,　at pitiful gaze shot up at him.

…　he does not wish to harm pathetic vermin atop him.　that would be obscene.　the world punches down enough,　and min-su is no threat to him.　[　someone who can bolster his own sense of masculinity through,　perhaps.　looking at one beneath him who does not and cannot measure up.　where he is musculature and tendon and sinew alike that can tenderly cradle those who are insufficient by comparison.　]　and so,　maybe it is blessed,　fortunate thing that min-su clutches bundle of rope in hand.　a leveling of the playing field so long as the bulk of his thew has been subdued.

❛❛　yeah?　❜❜　wrists are extended outwards before he may intervene with the automation　—　he wouldn’t, even still,　but his body speaks before his mind does.　then,　from pure curiosity,　❛❛　you ever done this before?　❜❜　and,　as somewhat of an afterthought,　❛❛　you don’t have to be nervous at all.　it’s alright.　❜❜　because dae-ho knows better.　because dae-ho insists of its veracity.　therefore it must be true　//　the tiger,　bearing fearsome maw lined with too-sharp teeth,　only licks its lips patiently,　waiting for fledgling hunter to fully tie down its game.　MIN-SU,　HEREIN,　IS NOT INSTRUMENT NOR UTENSIL.　dae-ho knows how that is,　how to stomach the feeling.　he volunteers the control with a fond curl of his lips and an offering of his strength restricted.

[notmarine]

me coming on solely to write daesu bondage

[notmarine]

daehocore

[notmarine]

who up getting chest hickeys

[plyr124]

"Well I don't want to rush anything. It's not my style, believe it or not." A lie, spoken so sweetly. He likes things fast and rough and unforgiving. But if he thinks it'd elicit a reaction out of Dae-Ho, then he will say whatever. Granted, the material obviously didn't taste the best, so he took it in stride and proceeded. Besides, it's a good motivator. He doesn't want being down here cut short.

But nonetheless, he would slowly slide Dae-Ho's pants and underwear down his thighs in one, painfully slow pull. He's doing it purposefully, wanting to draw out the experience. This is his turf, and so it's not far off that Nam-Gyu expects to do things on his own terms. He would stop pulling the clothing down until the articles were bunched at Dae-Ho knees, and only then would Nam-Gyu slide his hands up the man's thighs. He bit his bottom lip almost sensually, wrapping his fingers around that shaft, giving him a gentle squeeze. He dragged his grip upwards, rubbing that exposed tip with his thumb.

"You're big," It was a compliment, "Biggest I've ever seen." That was not. Nam-Gyu had seen his fair share before, as much as he would say he hasn't - he just wanted to try and make Dae-Ho feel good about himself. He doubted his efforts had any weight - if anything he feels like he's trying too hard with him. His own words made him internally cringe, but nonetheless he slid his hand downward. He squeezed the base of Dae-Ho's cock tightly before leaning in and peppering the tip with kisses and gentle licks. Every other time he sucked it briefly, all while massaging the underside of Dae-Ho's shaft with his thumb. Yet he always kept his gaze upwards, practically staring up at Dae-Ho. He did blink, but it certainly felt like he wasn't.

[notmarine]

like he gives a shit.　it matters little to him what the other prefers in the grand scheme of things.　selfishly,　he dances in perpetual pursuit of his own pleasure　—　couldn't it be?　this,　as the sole motivating factor in deigning to engage in such ribaldry with some one of nam-gyu's ilk to begin with?　he hates him.　dae-ho knows this to be true,　incontestable veracity through every sinew and tendon in his body.　but he likes the feeling of his more,　superseding any smoked-out abhorrence.　he permits himself precious little where guilty pleasures are concerned.　keeping the bottle beyond arm’s length.　steering clear of anything denying him a sound mind.　even going so far as to turn up his nose at something as banal as a cigarette.　doesn’t he deserve this pitiful gratification?

blunt nails graze against nam-gyu’s scalp,　stifled hum sucked through his teeth.　he doesn’t care much for the flattery.　not at all,　really.　more significantly,　he likes nam-gyu a lot better when the latter isn’t speaking,　putting his mouth and tongue to much more productive uses.　❛❛　i know i am.　❜❜　his eyes squeeze shut,　breathing a sharp breath in;　the fistful of hair at his command tightens its hold.　his tongue feels nice.　he’ll give him that,　groans progressively freed from where they were trapped in his throat.　enjoying himself freely is for his own sake far more than it is any indication that the other is doing a good job　—　not walking on egg-shells for once in his fucking life.

❛❛　you’re so much more likeable when you aren’t fucking talking.　❜❜　his quip is brief,　something disinterested and said in passing.　dae-ho’s eyes open,　and he looks down onto nam-gyu contemptuously.　it heightens the heat pooling in his gut,　slow buildup of burning sensation.　free hand extends outward,　softly cradling the line of other’s jaw before his fingers dig into his cheeks.　

[hearteris-a]

in the midst of the tender air, of the intimate moment; he still makes a joke. it's one of the many reasons you've fallen for him, evidenced by the way your lips curl upwards and a small, surprised laugh falls from mouth. it made the tension, that of which was pulled so taut it was close to snapping, lessen enough for you to relax against the sheets, grip loosened as you nod eagerly to his next words. it still shocks you that he was so affected by you, to the point that he'd be straining against fabric.. you found yourself enjoying it a bit more than you feel you should, elated to know that he'd find you that attractive.

can i? it's cute, so cute that he asks.. you find yourself thinking, 'i'm so lucky to have this' and then 'i'm even luckier that it's with him'. tucked away next to your lungs and ribs is a flurry of butterflies, you feel their wings flapping as they brush against your insides, the manifestation of your nerves. instead of feeling unsettled by them, you have instead embraced them and made yourself a field for them to thrive in - enveloped by your love, soothed by his love. you swallow your fears and your doubts, the lingering worries of what others would think fade away as you let yourself focus on him and his ministrations.

you feel it. it rubs against your stomach in a way that feels sinful.. you gasp as a plethora of noises leaves your parted mouth, enticed by the kisses across skin. but it's not enough.. for both of you, it's not nearly enough. there's a wetness soaking your panties and thighs, an eagerness for him. " บี๋.. " all needy, a whiny tone to voice as your hands drift 'til they press against his chest, doe eyes melting with desire and something else you can't identify. " p-please, i need you.. so bad.. i-it's driving me crazy, please. " breathless, utterly swept away from the accumulated lust. you're falling apart so easily.

[notmarine]

heat continuously forms at his cheeks.　[　and everywhere,　but that part isn’t as important.　it’s hard not to spare cognizance towards the heat that pools in his stomach.　he learns patience,　here.　]　he wants,　so badly,　to grind himself down into her;　the way his cock strains against constraining fabric of his pants is borderline agonizing.　there’s no use in rushing.　as far as dae-ho sees it,　they have all the time in the world.　this moment was sweet and special and safe,　sliced away from the world in its own private sanctuary.　just the two of them.　sami’s so sweet　—　it makes it difficult to wait,　but he knows it’ll be well worth it.

❛❛　huh?　❜❜　he heard her loud and clear,　whiny and sweet,　but gentle fascination rests upon him to nudge at her.　❛❛　can you hang on for me,　gorgeous?　❜❜　it’s endearing,　how worked up she is already:　it plays up his own inflamed desire,　insatiable sensation stoked by her mewling.　teasing is fun,　but he doesn’t want to leave her too high and dry　//　bare palm moves in,　tenderly cradles her jaw such that dae-ho may plant wet kiss against her lips　//　opposite hand snakes down her frame,　an initial featherlight touch at her panties that quickly shifts into something far more generous.　firm dragging back-and-forth of his fingers.　tantalizing but tentative still,　only daring to prod beneath her panties after he’s satisfied himself with the state of her arousal.

hold of his fingers gently angles her head up,　just enough such that he may pull back and look into her eyes.　curiously,　invitingly,　only for a moment before dae-ho presses his lips back into hers.　[　a bit more force,　this time.　he doesn’t want to get ahead of himself,　riled up like a mutt too much energy.　she’s beautiful.　it’s hard not to.　]　then,　only then,　does he permit the pad of his middle finger to circle ‘round her clit.　@hearteris

[notmarine]

sex, gender, and love.

bold what does apply to your muse.　italicize what sometimes applies.　strikethrough what never applies.

ㅤSEXUAL  IDENTITY:  queer  /  gay  /  lesbian  /  bisexual  /  pansexual  /  omnisexual  /  asexual  /  androsexual  /  demisexual  /  fluid  /  non-labelled  /  graysexual  /  gynesexual  /  homosexual  /  monosexual  /  polysexual  /  heterosexual

ROMANTIC  IDENTITY:  queer  /  gay  /  lesbian  /  biromantic  /  panromantic  /  omniromantic  /  aromantic  /  androromantic  /  demiromantic  /  fluid  /  non-labelled  /  grayromantic  /  gyneromantic  /  homoromantic  /  monoromantic  /  polyromantic  /  heteroromantic

GENDER  IDENTITY: cisgender  /  intersex  /  gender-nonconforming  /  transmasc  /  transfemme  /  transman  /  transwoman  /  nonbinary  /  androgynous  /  gender-fluid  /  genderqueer  /  agender  /  demi-girl  /  demi-boy  /  bigender  /  pangender  /  omnigender  /  two-spirit

BODY  &  APPEARANCE: under  5"  height  /  5"-5'4"  height  /  5'5"-5'8"  height  /  5'9"-5'11"  height  /  6"-6'4"  height  /  6'5"+  height  /  small  build  /  medium  build  /  athletic  build  /  muscular  build  /  curvy  build  /  wears  boxers  /  wears  briefs  /  wears  lingerie  /  goes  commando  /  shaves  /  waxes  /  manscapes  /  doesn’t  shave  or  wax  /  cupsize  A-B  /  cupsize  C-D  /  cupsize  DD(F)-DDD(G) /  cupsize  H+  /  length  1'-3'  /  length  4'-5'  /  length  6'-8'  /  length  9'-11'  /  length  12'+  /  thin  girth  /  average  girth  /  thick  girth

DATING  PREFERENCES: monogamous  /  ethically  nonmonogamous  /  monogamish  /  relationship  anarchy  /  open  relationships  /  polyamorous  /  doesn't  date  /  dates  casually /  dates  with  intent  to  form  relationships

ATTACHMENT  STYLE:  secure  /  anxious  preoccupied  /  dismissive  avoidant  /  fearful-avoidant  /  disorganized

ㅤLOVE  LANGUAGES  /  STYLES: words  of  affirmation  /  quality  time  /  acts  of  service  /  receiving  gifts  /  physical  touch  /  activity  /  appreciation  /  emotional  /  financial  /  intellectual  /  physical  /  practical

ㅤSOUNDS:  is  silent  or  makes  little  to  no  sounds  /  is  very  quiet  /  is  very  loud  /  grows  in  volume  over  time /  bites  hand  /  bites  partner  /  bites  pillow  to  muffle  themselves  /  calls  out  partners  name  /  curses  /  growls  /  happy  cries  /  fakes  or  exaggerates  /  goes  nonverbal  /  prefers  a  quiet  partner  /  prefers  a  loud  partner  /  prefers  a  responsive  partner  /  is  turned  on  by  dirty  talk  /  is  turned  off  by  dirty  talk

PHYSICAL  ACTS  OF  INTIMACY: holding  hands  /  kissing  /  cuddling  /  massages  /  bathing  together  /  washing  partner's  hair  /  skin  on  skin  contact  /  forehead  kisses  /  playing  under  the  table  /  playing  with  partner's  hair  /  playful  tickling  /  seeking  them  out  in  bed  to  hold  /  eye  contact  /  reading  and/or  singing  to  your  partner  /  being  read  to  /  napping  together  /  couch  cuddles  while  doing  separate  activities

KINKS  &  TURN  ONS: having  hands  pinned  /  pinning  partners  hands  /  having  hair  pulled  /  pulling  partners  hair  /  being  watched  /  watching  their  partner  /  voyeurism  /  receiving  oral  sex  /   giving  oral  sex  /  receiving  penetration  /  giving  penetration  /  praise  kink  /  biting  /  being  bitten  /  marking  up  your  partner  /  being  marked  up  / impact  play  /  edge  play  /  teasing  /  being  teased  /   overstimulation  /  using  toys  on  partner  /  having  toys  used  on  them  /  choking  /  being  choked  /  being  restrained  /  restraining  their  partner  /  shibari  /  breeding  kink  /  piss  kink  /  worshipping  their  partner  /  being  worshipped  /  humiliating  /  being  humiliated  /  degrading  /  being  degraded  /  pegging  /  being  pegged  /  frotting  /  face  sitting  /  dom/sub  dynamics  /  DDLG  dynamics  /  aftercare  /  anal  /  bdsm  /  light  bondage  /  outdoor  sex  /  public  sex  /  risky  sex  /  sensory  deprivation  /  roleplay  /  gentle  sex  /  rough  sex  /  threesomes /  wax  play  /  sensory  play  /  knife  play  /  blood  play  /  caging  /  cbt  /  sounding  /  collars  /  exhibitionism  /  rimming  /  pet  play  /  clothed  or  partially  clothed  /  dressing  up  for  partner  /  partner  dressing  up  for  them  /  size  difference  /  daddy  kink  /  mommy  kink  /  master/slave  dynamics

[notmarine]

i tagged them all now. . . send me prompts 🐯