Fox’s chest bloomed with warmth at the slip of a curse, always far too pleased when he could break through that polished facade and make Mingyu tap into his baser nature. It was hot, who could blame him?

He reached over to the bedside table where there was a glass still half filled with lubricant he’d made the night before.

“Look I was fully prepared to take you in the sweetest and most romantic way possible, but then someone had to ask about toys,” he mused, but he sounded far too happy to actually be doing anything other than teasing.

“Go on. Name your stakes. I’m gonna have you whimpering my name regardless.”