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@dazedhyu
Mae 20 current hiatus.
Library .・・ ❤︎ .・・ ❤︎ .・・ ❤︎ .・・ ❤︎
backseat 𓏲ּ𝄢 s.jn
fwb to lovers slight angst unprotected sex pet names (baby, doll, pretty, etc) riding dry humping prob missing some :p
。(゚´ω`゚)゚。.・・ ❤︎ .・・ ❤︎ 4.5k happy (late) valentine’s day, johfam
Things were always just meant to be casual. Sure, it wasn't too casual to fuck on a regular basis or talk to each other the way you do, but you always felt a little bad for keeping him in the friend zone for so long, knowing how he felt about you. You and Johnny had known each other since high school; you've always been best friends.
And to be completely honest, you couldn't help but be completely whipped by him. He bought you gifts nearly every day, whether it was something small or something thoughtful. You'd catch yourself admiring a necklace at the store, and sure enough, the next morning, it would be sitting at your front door with a cute note attached. He was like that with everything: the things you needed, the things you didn't even know you wanted, and especially the things that made you smile.
He wasn't just good at spoiling you with things. He always knew exactly what to say when you were upset, how to touch you in a way that made you feel safe, how to fuck you so good you were seeing stars. Johnny knew you better than anyone else. He knew your body, your moods, your every little habit. He could read you like an open book.
But the lingering fear that if you ever crossed that line and took things further with him, things would go south and you'd lose him as a friend was what always kept you in check. You couldn't bear the thought of losing him, and that fear kept you at arm's length.
But even today— valentines day, a day meant for romance and cheesy gestures, you told yourself things were still supposed to be casual. That’s what you kept telling yourself as stepped out of the shower and got ready for the night ahead.
You couldn’t stop thinking about the flowers he had sent you this morning. The bouquet was massive, the kind that looked like it belonged in a romance movie, wrapped in black satin and tied with a sleek ribbon with a cute card tucked into the petals with a simple message:
“Happy Valentine’s Day, baby. Be ready by 9, dress extra pretty for me. -J <3”
It had made your stomach flip. You hadn’t been prepared for that— not from him. It wasn’t that Johnny wasn’t sweet, but this felt… different. Special. His usual kind gestures and love had turned into something else and you weren't sure if you were ready to handle all of that. But as the day had gone on, you couldn’t help but smile every time you thought about it.
Now, standing in front of the mirror, you add the finishing touches to your hair and makeup. He knows how much you hate fancy restaurants and anything overly formal, so you’ve kept your outfit casual yet still put together. A maroon cropped cardigan draped over a delicate white lace-trim cami, paired with the black skirt you know he loves. Every time you wear it around him, you catch his lingering stares and feel the way his touches last just a second too long, like he can’t help himself.
The clock was ticking, and with each passing second, your nerves grew. You thought you had it all figured out. It was supposed to be casual, after all. But you couldn’t ignore the fluttering in your chest as the minutes passed. It felt like tonight was different.
And before you knew it, you were out the door, the cool night air greeting you as you walked toward his car, your heartbeat syncing with the rhythm of your steps.
The air nipped at your skin as you approached Johnny’s car, and your heart skipped a beat as you saw him standing by the passenger door, leaning against the car with a grin that gave you butterflies. His eyes scanned over you in that way he always did when he looked at you, a look of admiration mixed with something else you couldn't quite describe.
He straightened up when he saw you, his grin widening as he took a few steps closer. You almost missed the way his hand reached out to take yours; the warmth of his touch was enough to melt any hesitation you might’ve had.
“Hey, angel.” He spoke softly, his thumb gently traced the back of your hand as he held your arm up, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “Twirl for me, baby, let me see the full fit.”
A small laugh bubbled up in your chest, but you couldn’t resist. You spun around once, letting your skirt flare out as you turned. You could hear him take in a sharp breath behind before you faced him again.
“God, you’re so beautiful, baby,” he murmured, his eyes never once leaving you. His voice was low, almost reverent, as if he couldn’t believe you were real.
The way he said it made your chest tighten, and a small heat spread through your cheeks. It wasn’t just the usual compliment— there was something more behind it, something deeper, but he didn’t press it. He just smiled, that easy, confident smile that made your heart race.
“Let’s get going, yeah?” Johnny added, keeping his voice light but warm.
You nodded, still feeling the buzz from his words. As he opened the door for you, he moved closer, guiding you toward the seat. His hand briefly brushed against your waist as he helped you into the car, soft and slow, nothing rushed, just enough to send a jolt of warmth through your body.
It didn’t take long for the night to escalate after that. His constant lingering touches and sweet words, laced with a quiet intensity, were slowly driving you mad. It started innocent— his hand brushing against your thigh every now and then as he drove, his soft chuckle as he teased you, asking about your day. But it was clear that each moment with him was a little more than you could handle. This wasn’t at all the usual for you two, even though you’re very used to his ‘dates’ there was always the friendly demeanor behind them. This one was all a complete shift in the energy, it made you nervous, like this was an actual real date and not just two friends hanging out and flirting.
By the time you made it to a quiet spot by the water, the atmosphere had shifted. The air around you crackled, thick with something unspoken, an electric current that you could feel building between you two with every glance, every word. You weren’t even sure how you’d ended up in this position, but you didn’t care.
One minute you were sitting side by side in the backseat, laughing, the next you were straddling his lap. The shift had been so gradual, so natural that you didn’t question it until you felt his hands begin to roam.
His fingers slid under the fabric of your cardigan, the sensation sending a shiver down your spine. You instinctively leaned into him, your body reacting before your mind could catch up. You could feel the heat radiating from his chest, the way his breath hitched slightly as his hands slid around your waist.
You continued talking, but your words felt like an afterthought, drowned out by the racing of your heartbeat. Every now and then, Johnny would murmur something that made you blush, his voice low and teasing as he casually slid his hand under your top, his large hands gliding against the skin of your back.
But it was his eyes that truly did it for you. They were still so sweet, full of admiration and affection, but there was something else there now. A flicker of heat, of raw desire, a hunger that made your pulse spike.
“Johnny, you’re looking at me like you want to eat me.” you spoke with a small chuckle, your voice betraying the nervous flutter in your chest. It was a poor attempt to ease the tension and the heat pooling between your thighs, but it was all you could manage as his gaze burned into you.
Johnny tilted his head slightly, the smirk never leaving his lips. His fingers tightened at your waist, sending a shiver up your spine. “Only if you want me to.”
His voice was low, teasing, it was enough to make your breath hitch. His hands slid down to your thighs, his fingers tracing slow circles into your skin before gripping just a little tighter, pulling you in until there was no space left between you.
The subtle pressure of his touch mixed with the feeling of his painfully hard bulge pressing right against your core made heat pool in your stomach, your breath coming out uneven as you bit your lip to keep yourself together.
Johnnys gaze flickered to your lips, then back up to your eyes, and the grin on his face grew just slightly. He was enjoying this, the way you tensed up under his touch, the way your body was reacting to him before you could even find the words to respond.
“You like that, pretty?” His voice was smooth, almost lazy, but the way his hands slowly slid up to your hips sent another rush of warmth through your body. He gently rocked your hips against his, just enough to let you know what he wanted. What he knew you wanted, too.
“You’re being awfully shy tonight,” he murmured, his eyes searching yours. “Am I making you nervous?”
“Johnny…” You barely breathed out, your fingers gripping at his shoulders as a small, helpless whine slipped past your lips when he pushed you further onto his lap.
You didn’t know what was worse, the way your body was betraying you, or the way he was looking at you like he already knew everything you weren’t saying. Like he was waiting for you to catch up to what he already understood. The tension was driving you insane. It wasn’t just the way he touched you, the way he looked at you like you were the only thing he wanted— it was the aftermath. The way he could act like this, make you feel like this, and then leave both of you tangled in that same unspoken confusion the next day. That lingering feeling that always stayed around for days every single time the two of you had sex.
Longing. Maybe even love.
You wished, more than anything, that you could push past the fear of relationships, of rejection, of getting hurt. But it clung to you, holding you back, even though you knew deep down that Johnny would never hurt you. He cared about you too much. He always made sure you had everything you needed, always put you first in ways you weren’t sure he even realized.
And it made you feel guilty for pretending your feelings weren’t real. For acting like this didn’t mean something.
The weight of it all pressed down on you, a storm of conflict and confusion swirling in your head. You let out a quiet whine, your frustration spilling over as you looked down at him, torn between everything you wanted to say and everything you were still too scared to admit.
Johnny’s fingers flexed against your hips, and his smirk softened into a small smile. “I know, baby,” he spoke, his voice quieter now. His hands slid up your back, holding you close. “You don’t have to say it. I already know.”
His words sent a shiver down your spine, and before you could stop yourself, your hands were moving up, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt like you needed something to hold onto. Like if you let go, you’d fall apart completely.
Johnny chuckled, the sound warm against your skin. “Just let me take care of you, yeah?.” His fingers traced slow patterns along your waist, his touch patient, steady. “It’s a special day today, and you’re my special girl. You deserve it.”
He didn’t wait for another word. The second your head dipped in a nod, his lips were on yours, slow and deliberate, he wanted you to feel everything neither of you could say out loud. His hands slid up your back, fingertips pressing into your skin just enough to make you shiver.
The kiss deepened in an instant, all hesitation melting away as his tongue intertwined with yours, teasing, coaxing, making your breath hitch. His grip on you tightened, your hips instinctively picking back up their pace rolling against his.
A small whimper slipped from your lips, and Johnny groaned lowly in response. The friction you felt as he slightly thrusted up pressing further against you sent a sharp wave of pleasure through your body, you gasped, breaking the kiss for just a second before he chased your lips again, capturing them in another heated, desperate kiss.
“You feel so good, baby,” he murmured against your lips, his voice hushed but dripping with hunger. “Always so good for me.”
His mouth traveled, trailing slow, open-mouthed kisses along your jaw, down your neck, sucking softly at the spot he knew would make you squirm.
The heat between you was unbearable now, every touch, every movement sending you spiraling deeper into the feeling. You didn’t care about what would happen tomorrow, about the confusion that always lingered after nights like this. All you cared about was him, his touch, his lips, the way he made you feel like you were the only thing in the world that mattered.
His hands moved with purpose, slipping beneath the hem of your top, his palms searing against your skin as he slowly dragged the fabric upward. There was no hesitation as he pulled your clothes over your head, tossing them somewhere beside the two of you. His eyes darkened at the sight of you, his gaze drinking in every inch of exposed skin.
His hands were back on you in an instant, skimming up your sides, thumbs grazing just under the band of your bra as he leaned in, kissing along your collarbone, down the valley of your chest.
The anticipation was unbearable, your breath coming in short, needy gasps before the fabric slipped away. The cool air made you shiver, but Johnny was quick to warm you up, his mouth finding your skin again. Kissing softly before latching onto one of your nipples, sucking and swirling his tongue around the perky bud, making you moan and pull softly at his hair.
He hummed, the vibrations against you causing a whimper to leave your lips. He tilted his head back, releasing your breast with a small pop, immediately diving back into your chest to kiss and mark you in places nobody else would see. His hands moved lower, gripping your thighs and pushing them apart, the feeling of his clothed cock flush against where you needed him most was almost too much to handle.
Johnny groaned, his head dropping to your shoulder as he rocked you against him with more intent. “You feel that, baby?” he rasped, his fingers digging into your skin. “You want me just as bad as I want you, don’t you?”
The way he said it, the way his voice dripped with need, made you dizzy. Your body answered before your words could, your hips grinding down against him, a desperate moan slipping from your lips.
Johnny’s grip tightened, and he exhaled sharply, his restraint hanging by a thread. “Fuck,” he muttered. “Sit up, pretty girl.”
Without hesitation, you lifted your hips from his, your hands gripping his shoulders tightly as he worked fast to undo his belt and free his aching cock. You watched as it sprung out, a drop of pre-cum already leaking at the tip.
Johnny worked quickly, sliding your skirt and panties down your legs with practiced ease. Before you could even process the loss of fabric, he was pressing the tip of his cock against your entrance, dragging it along your slit in slow, deliberate strokes that had your breath hitching.
A frustrated whimper slipped past your lips, your hips instinctively trying to push down onto him, but his grip on your waist was firm, keeping you exactly where he wanted you.
His hold on your waist tightened as he continued to tease you, the head of his cock dragging along your slick folds, never quite pushing in. You let out a shaky breath, hands gripping at his shoulders, desperate for more.
“Johnny, please..” you tried, your voice soft.
He hummed, tilting his head slightly, clearly enjoying the way you squirmed beneath him. “Please what, baby? At least ask properly.”
Your body trembled as he rolled his hips just enough to nudge against your entrance, sending a jolt of pleasure through you.
You swallowed hard, your pride slipping further with every second of his agonizing teasing. “Please,” you whined, voice breathless and needy. “need you so bad, please fuck me...”
His smirk faltered for just a moment, his restraint nearly snapping at the way you begged for him. Without another word, he finally pushed into you, stretching you open inch by inch. A small gasp left your lips.
Your fingers dug into his shoulders, nails pressing into the fabric of his shirt as you tried to steady yourself against the overwhelming sensation of him filling you completely.
Johnny groaned low in his throat, his grip on your waist tightening as he forced himself to move at a steady pace, savoring the way your body welcomed him so perfectly. “Fuck, yn,” he murmured, his voice strained. “Always so tight for me.”
Your head tipped back once again, a broken moan slipping past your lips as he bottomed out, his head kissing at your cervix with just the slightest shift of his hips. He gave you a second to adjust, his thumbs stroking slow, soothing circles against your hips, but the way your walls clenched around him made his patience waver.
“You okay, angel?” he asked, his voice softer now, despite the way his restraint was hanging by a thread.
You nodded quickly, your body already desperate for more. “Mhm, feels so good..”
That was all he needed. With a deep, satisfied hum, he pulled out just enough to thrust back in, slowly, making sure you felt every inch of him. His hands guided your movements as you rocked against him, your moans spilling into the air between you.
“Just like that, baby,” he praised, his lips grazing your jaw before trailing down to your neck. “Taking me so well.”
Your fingers tangled in his hair, nails grazing his scalp as you let out a breathy moan, overwhelmed by the way he moved— how every roll of his hips sent waves of pleasure crashing over you. He tilted his head up to watch you, eyes dark, completely filled with a mix of love and lust.
“You feel so good,” he whispered against your skin. His lips trailing lower, pressing open-mouthed kisses down your throat, lingering at your collarbone before nipping lightly, just enough to make you shiver.
A soft whimper slipped past your lips as he slightly picked up his pace. He caught your sound with a kiss, deep and unhurried, like he wanted to drown in the taste of you. His tongue traced along your bottom lip before he pulled away just enough to whisper, “You like that? Want more?”
You could only nod, barely able to form words with the way he was unraveling you so effortlessly. The intensity of his gaze never wavered, watching every little reaction, every shiver, every breathy sound that slipped from your lips.
“Use your words, doll, want to hear you.”
A shaky inhale filled your lungs before you managed to whisper, “Yes… more, please.”
His lips curled into a soft smirk, but there was no teasing in his eyes only devotion, only the overwhelming need to give you exactly what you asked for. His movements deepened, his hips snapping into yours with a bit more urgency, dragging out every sensation. A deep groan rumbled in his chest as he buried his face in your neck, his fingers digging into your hips, guiding you to match his rhythm.
Every thrust sent waves of pleasure crashing through you, your body trembling in his arms as your moans grew louder. He was losing himself in you, in the way you felt, the way you sounded— so sweet, so desperate for him.
“Johnny—” His name spilled from your lips like a plea, your fingers gripping onto him like you’d fall apart if you let go.
His hands roamed your body, both hands resting just under your breasts, his thumbs rubbing small circles at your nipples. He kissed you again, much deeper this time, his tongue sliding against yours with a tenderness that had your heart pounding against your ribs. It wasn’t just desire; it was more than that. It was the way he held you like you were something precious, something he never wanted to let go of.
“Fuck,” he muttered against your lips, his voice strained, almost like he was trying to hold back but couldn’t anymore. “You feel so damn good… can’t help it, baby.”
His grip on you tightened as he thrust into you with more intensity, repeatedly hitting that spot that made your toes curl, but his touch remained gentle, his hands smoothing over your skin, grounding you, making sure you were with him through every moment. The sound of your moans only spurred him on, his breath coming out in ragged exhales as he broke the kiss to bury his face against your neck.
“Taking me so well, angel,” he groaned, his lips brushing against your jaw between each word. “So perfect— so beautiful —just for me.”
Your fingers still tangled in his hair, tugging slightly as another whimper escaped you, and he nearly lost it right then. His hips snapped forward with more force, his control slipping further with every sound you made.
“God, you drive me crazy,” he breathed, pulling back just enough to look at you, his eyes dark, filled with adoration and something raw, something unrestrained. “Need you to know how good you are to me… how much I love you.”
You couldn’t even form words in response, your head spinning with the overwhelming sensation of him pounding into you. You clung to him, feeling each thrust of his hips, the way he drove deeper, harder, pushing you toward something higher. Your breath caught in your throat. For a moment, everything seemed to stop. His words hung in the air, but your body was too lost in the bliss he was giving you to process them fully.
You couldn’t focus on anything except the way his hips crashed into yours, the delicious pressure building inside of you, the tenderness in the way his hands touched you, each movement making you feel like you were in pure bliss.
“Just like that,” he whispered, his pace faltering as he grew closer, but still, he stayed gentle with you, his hands caressing your skin, as if he never wanted to let go.
Your body gave in to the intensity of it all, a rush of heat flooding you as you reached your orgasm. His name left your lips in a breathless string of pleas and moans, but still, he whispered praises against your skin, each word a caress, as if he were reminding you of how much you meant to him. Soon both of you reached your limits, his thrusts nearly stopping and cock twitching as he came. The feeling of his warmth seeping into you mixed with your own arousal soaking his length was enough to make your legs twitch and breath hitch once again.
As the intensity began to fade, the air between you was thick with lingering heat, you both slowed, your breaths coming in shaky, uneven gasps. His forehead rested gently against yours, as he soothingly rubbed your sides.
He kissed you slowly, deeply, savoring the aftermath, his lips soft against yours as he pulled you closer, like he was trying to keep you attached to him.
But as the world around you slowly started to come back into focus, his words played on a loop in your mind, each one like a soft echo against your chest. As much as you tried to convince yourself it was just the heat of the moment, you couldn’t deny it. You knew he meant it.
And deep down, you realized that you really felt the same way. The realization hit you like a wave, slow and steady but impossible to ignore. For the first time, you were tired of parading around the topic of love when it came to him. It wasn’t just the sex, the intimacy, or the wild rush of everything that had just happened, it was the way he made you feel, the overwhelming warmth in your chest that never went away when he was around.
All you knew for sure, as your heart beat in time with his, was that you weren’t going to shy away from him anymore. You weren’t going to play games, or pretend like there was some distance between you. You wanted him. Not just in the way your body craved him, but in the way your heart had always known he was the one you were meant to be with.
You wanted to be his, as badly as he wanted to be yours.
“…I love you too,” you breathed out, your voice full of the same raw honesty that had been in his. The words felt like a weight lifted from your chest, the last piece of the puzzle locking into place.
His breath hitched, and you felt the shift in him— a gentle smile curving his lips as he looked at you, soft with emotion. “Yeah?” His voice was quiet, as if he was still letting the confession settle between you both.
You smiled back, still clinging to him. “Yeah, Johnny, I love you.”
His lips found yours again in a tender kiss, but this time it was slower, more deliberate, like he was savoring the sweetness of your confession. “Good,” he mumbled against your lips, holding you close, like he’d never let you go.
The world outside may have still been waiting, but in that moment, nothing else mattered but the warmth of his arms and the love you had for each other.
Eventually, everything calmed down. He pulled back just slightly, a lazy smile spreading across his face as his thumb traced gentle circles on your skin. “Now,” he spoke up, his voice soft but playful, “let’s get cleaned up and go get some dinner, yeah?”
You chuckled softly, still a little dazed, but the warmth of his words made your heart swell even more. “Yeah, I think that sounds perfect.”
As you both reluctantly untangled from each other’s arms, you shared one last lingering kiss, both of you smiling into it, feeling the weight of the moment settle between you.
You were his. And he was yours.
Love letter from dazedhyu 💌 : ughhshshgsh i need him bad 😭 Whenever i listen to freak by doja cat my first thought is johnny… so i had to clearly whip something yummy up 🍽️ i rlly do hope u guys like this way more than i do because truly i almost scrapped the whole thing like 7 different times LMFAO
sunrise 𓏲ּ𝄢 l.mk
established relationship unprotected sex rough sex pussy slapping praise choking dacryphilia overstimulation creampie petnames mk is very obsessed w yn
。(゚´ω`゚)゚。.・・ ❤︎ .・・ ❤︎ 1.4kwc
Just a few hours ago, you and Mark were tangled in the sheets, the warmth of his body the only thing keeping you grounded as the morning light filtered through the blinds. His breath was soft against your skin, slow and steady, like he was savoring the quiet intimacy of the moment. You stirred awake to the feel of his hands gently tracing the curve of your body, fingertips lightly grazing over your skin as if he was memorizing every inch of you.
His lips brushed against your cheek, your jaw, leaving featherlight kisses that made your heart race, your breath hitching as his soft, sweet voice whispered, "You're so beautiful, baby. So perfect just for me."
You melted into him, your own hands reaching up to touch him, feeling the tenderness of his touch, the way his voice wrapped around you like a protective blanket.
It felt like the world was quiet, just the two of you, nothing but warmth and affection. It truly was such a 180 from the way he was fucking you right now, his fingers digging into your hips, harsh and possessive, each thrust coming fast and deep. His cock brutally pounding into you in a way that has your head spinning and walls tightening around him.
His voice is the same, that soft, low murmur of praise. His hands move down to grip at the back of your thighs, pinning them down against your chest, making you cry out as he pushes himself deeper into your heat. His tip brushing against your cervix, hitting that perfect spot deep inside you that only he could ever reach.
Mark's breath is warm against your ear, his hands gripping you so tightly it almost hurts, but you can't bring yourself to care. The rhythmic crash of his hips against you mixed with your whiny moans and his desperate grunts filled the room, each thrust pushing you further into the mattress. You can barely catch your breath, his name barely leaving your lips before he's smirking above you, a dangerous glint in his eyes.
"You okay, baby?" His voice is so sweet it almost makes you forget how rough he's being. "Making you feel good, yeah?"
You try to nod, but the sharp movement of his hips makes your vision blur with tears. The soft, mocking chuckle he lets out makes it all worse, and before you know it, you're trembling under him, breath shaky, eyes glossy, and mind completely dazed.
"Poor thing," he coos, his voice soft, comforting even. One of his hands slides from your thigh to cup your cheek in his palm, his thumb gently wiping away at the tears streaming down your heated, red tinted skin. "You're crying already, pretty girl?"
You try to hold back a sob, biting your lip in frustration, but the words spill out anyway, "Please, Markie... pleaseー"
He cuts you off, his hand moving from your cheek to harshly slap at your aching clit, all while nearly sliding completely out of you before quickly pushing back inside with a deep thrust. His grin widening at the way your back arched up and cries grew louder. "You like that, don’t you? Like it when I'm rough, baby?”
You weakly nodded with a small whimper, your nails digging into his back as you clawed at him, leaving marks that would stay. His chest rumbled with laughter, low and dark. Slapping your poor cunt once again before wrapping his hand around your throat slightly and squeezing, not enough to cut off air flow just enough to make you gasp, his cock twitching inside you with each moan and plea that escaped your lips.
The steady, brutal rhythm of his length slamming into you, stretching you out perfectly. Each movement deep and unforgiving. You're barely able to keep your eyes open as your body shakes, and nails digging so deep into him he winced.
Your body feels like it’s on fire, it feels like your mind is about to shatter, but he doesn't let up. Not even for a second. "m-markie," you manage, but he's not listening. He's too busy watching you fall apart beneath him.
"You're so fucking perfect when you cry for me," he says, voice so sweet it makes your head spin. Another hard thrust and your vision blanks, your whole body a mess of trembling limbs and broken moans. "Thought you could take it... but look at you now."
“m-mark.. ‘m g-gonna-” You started but was completely cut off by his grip around your throat tightening, the guttural moan that left his lips feeling your walls pulse around him was enough to push you over the edge. “Fuuuuuck baby, cum on my cock. Be a good girl.” His voice was deep, commanding even. His hand that’s still on your thigh pushing your leg even closer to you, his pace and roughness somehow managing to deepen.
He watches your face carefully, delighting in how each hit of pleasure makes you weaker, more desperate. You're a complete mess of overstimulation and desperation and he loves it more than anything.
Your body tensed up, cries and pleads dropping to a stuttering mess of whimpers as your orgasm finally washed over you. You're barely able to respond, barely conscious, your body weak from the overstimulation, every nerve on fire as he continues to pound into you. Your hands weakly dropping to his sides doing everything you can to try and ground yourself, but it's no use, you're too gone, too overwhelmed by the waves of pleasure he's wringing from you.
Mark simply smirks, softly rubbing your thigh yet his thrusts are still relentless, his hands tightening on you, guiding you through the onslaught of pleasure and pain.
"Baby, you're still so tight," He groans, his voice strained while he ignores your desperate cries for him to stop. He doesn't care. His pace never slows, not even when you try to squirm beneath him, when you can barely breathe, let alone form words. "m-mark.." You manage to breathlessly pant out.
"Can't stop now, baby," Mark murmurs, his voice strained, low. He doesn't slow, doesn't give you any mercy; he's got you pinned, each thrust sending shockwaves through you as he chases his own release. His hand loosens on your throat and travels down to your waist with an unbelievably tight grip.
His breathing is ragged, every movement desperate as he fights to reach his high. "Such a good baby for me, always take my cock so well." His voice is barely audible, the words only adding to your overstimulation. You're not even sure if you can handle another round, but he's relentless, digging into you as if there's no stopping until he gets what he wants.
Finally, with a low groan, Mark stills above you, his body going rigid as he reaches his release, his cock twitching before he cums deep inside you. The two of you are left in a tangled mess of sweat and exhaustion. He's gripping and holding you even as he breathes heavily, his chest rising and falling in time with yours.
Neither of you can move for a moment, completely spent, hearts pounding in sync as you both come down from the overwhelming sensations. His eyes fluttered open to meet yours for a moment before he looked down, smirking at the ring of both of your releases around his length.
Slowly, he pulled out, shushing you with a gentle kiss once you whined, your body still trembling from the aftershocks. His lips were soft, reassuring, against your skin as he peppered small kisses down your body, tracing the path from your chest to your tummy. Every touch was delicate, tender.
His hands were light on your thighs as he parted them slowly, gawking at the way his cum dripped out of your sore hole. His eyes flickered up to meet yours, dark and full of desire. "Look at you," he spoke, voice low and soothing despite the ache in his tone. "my pretty baby. Always so gorgeous when i fill you up." His gaze was filled with admiration, but there was a hunger behind it; he wasn't finished with you yet.
He leaned in, pressing a kiss to the inside of your thigh, fingers tracing the sensitive skin there before he moved closer, as if drawn to the lingering warmth of your body. He pressed a soft kiss to your bundle of nerves, his grip on your thighs tightening as your legs tensed up. “Don’t move, baby, let me clean you up.”
love letter from dazedhyu 💌 holy moly.. i had completely different intentions when i started plotting this and 100% got carried away LMFAO,,, i hope u enjoyed! mark is so yummy.. this is the quickest ive ever written something lol
focus 𓏲ּ𝄢 l.dh
angst slight noncon exhibitionism fingering oral (fem rec) unprotected sex cheating mention pet names (angel, princess, etc)
。(゚´ω`゚)゚。.・・ ❤︎ .・・ ❤︎ 5.9k wc ft. 7 dream
It’s been almost a year since you and Haechan broke up. You’ve spent every second since despising him. You hate the way he steals glances when he thinks you won’t notice. You hate the way his voice still lingers in the back of your mind when the room is too quiet, and more than anything, you hate how much you still find yourself craving the warmth of his touch at times.
You do your best to ignore him. You guys share the same friend group and hang out often. The last thing you’d want to do is make your shared friends feel tied up in your weird relationship drama. But it was hard when Haechan would joke around with them and slip in snide comments about you, glancing over at you with that stupid shit-eating grin plastered on his face, desperately trying to get a rise out of you.
Though you’ve convinced yourself you’re over him, completely given up, you sometimes wonder if he ever stops hating you. If, for even a second, he lets himself remember what it was like before everything fell apart. If he ever regrets the way he cheated on you and left you confused, and broken.
As the long-awaited spring break weekend arrived, you and your six friends — plus Haechan — found yourselves at Chenle’s summer estate, a secluded getaway nestled between towering pines that you all tended to visit every vacation you got. The midday sun filtered through sheer white curtains, casting warm patterns across the wooden floors of your designated room.
You wasted no time unpacking, barely bothering to fold your clothes as you stuffed them into the nearest dresser. The trip had only just started, and you already knew you wouldn’t be spending much time in this room, not when the sun was high, the water was cool, and the pool was calling your name.
Slipping into a simple black bikini, you gave yourself a once-over in the mirror. Satisfied, you grabbed your phone and headed for the door, the distant sound of laughter drifting up from downstairs. Voices overlapping, doors opening and closing. It was familiar, easy, the kind of noise that made the place feel lived in.
You exhaled, relaxation finally overriding your system. You were here to enjoy yourself, and nothing, not even the lingering tension of past mistakes, was going to change that.
In the kitchen, Mark and Renjun were hunched over the island, deep in some conversation you didn’t care enough to eavesdrop on as they cut up fruit. Everyone else was out by the pool, laughing, sunbathing, and just having a good time overall.
Everything felt easy, weightless, like nothing mattered beyond this weekend, beyond the warmth of the sun and the cool relief of the water.
Unfortunately for you, though, you saw him, and your mind immediately started to wander.
Haechan sat at the edge of the pool, legs submerged, an unreadable expression on his face as he stared out at the water. There was something detached about his gaze, like he wasn’t fully there. Like he was completely lost in thought about something else.
You rolled your eyes and turned away before you could linger too long. You hadn’t spoken to him once since getting here, and you weren’t about to start now. It was bad enough you had to share this weekend — just like every other moment with your friends — with him. He wasn’t going to ruin this for you. Not like he always did. You refused to let him get under your skin whatsoever.
Without a word, you walked past the kitchen, past the open doors, and stepped onto the sun-warmed patio, quietly taking a seat on a secluded sun lounger. The laughter, the sunlight, the cool water, all of it should have been enough to soothe you. And for the time being, it was.
You weren’t going to let him be the thing you noticed most.
A few hours had passed, the sun just barely starting to dip below the horizon, casting a warm orange glow across the patio. You and your friends were deep in discussions. Yet, despite the carefree energy surrounding you, your attention kept flickering toward the empty space where Haechan should’ve been.
You hadn’t seen him for a while now — not that you cared, but you could definitely tell something was on his mind, slowly eating away at him. Usually, he would do everything in his power to irritate and annoy you, take every opportunity he had to glare so intensely you swore he was trying to burn holes into your skin, but today he was quiet. Too quiet.
You told yourself it didn’t matter, that he’d probably just had a rough day and called it quits, going back to his room. Yet the longer you sat there, the more you found yourself unconsciously searching for him.
Shaking off the thought, you stretched your arms above your head, sighing as the stiffness from sitting too long settled into your shoulders. Deciding you needed a break, you made your way inside, stepping into the dimly lit kitchen. The faint hum of the fridge filled the quiet space as you reached for a glass, the cool sensation of condensation forming against your fingertips while you poured yourself a drink.
Just as the first sip of cold juice touched your lips, a sudden grip on your hips sent a sharp jolt up your spine. Your breath hitched, fingers tightening around the glass as a shiver coursed through your body. The grip was firm, possessive even, harshly pushing your back against their chest.
For a split second, your mind raced. The silence behind you felt heavy, the presence lingering close. Immediately, you knew it was Haechan, the fear in your body being quickly overridden with irritation as you grabbed his wrists and forced his hands off your body.
“Don’t touch me, Donghyuck.” Your voice was a weird mix of soft yet stern, it only made his smirk grow wider. His hands immediately moved back to your hips, fingers digging in so harshly you were sure it would leave bruises. A small hiss slipped past your lips before he rested his chin on your shoulder, his lips grazing the shell of your ear.
“Why not? I know you miss my touch, baby.” He whispered sweetly, his hands pressing you further against him. Your ass flush against the bulge in his swimsuit made you wince, the pressure of his fingers digging into your hips sent an intense pain through your body. You hesitated for a second, your breath catching in your throat, before you reluctantly set the cup down on the counter.
“No need to get all dumb and quiet, you're shaking so much… just let Hyuckie take care of you the way he always did. Yeah, angel?” He spoke again, his hands abandoning your hips to slide down to your thighs, gripping them tight as his lips pressed hot, hungry kisses down the back of your neck and shoulder. You shook your head, a small, desperate "no" slipping from your lips, barely more than a breath.
Too many emotions surged within you, too disoriented to make sense of them all. A mixture of irritation, confusion, and fear gnawed at the pit of your stomach. You could feel the heat of his body behind you, his every movement making your pulse race even faster.
Something inside you screamed to get away, but another part of you… made you hesitate, made your mind make excuses telling you to stop trying to squirm out of his grasp. Maybe it was the slight yearning you've had for his touch since you've broken up, but you couldn’t admit that to him. Let alone yourself. You hated everything about this interaction, it made you sick to your stomach and you wanted nothing more than to get away and forget all about it. Everything about this made you feel so vulnerable.
“No? Not something my pretty girl would say… You don’t have to lie, baby, I know deep down this is what you want. Isn’t it, yn?” He spoke smoothly, his voice low and almost commanding.
You hated the way his words rang in your head, you especially hated the way your body reacted to his voice. Your legs subconsciously squeezing together before your breath caught sharply in your throat once more, feeling his hand slide from your thigh straight to the lining of your bikini bottoms.
Gently yet urgently he tugged the cloth aside, the cool air brushing against your warm core making a small whine leave your mouth. He chuckled deeply ー his fingers wasting no time circling painfully slow motions to your swollen bud.
"C'mon, angel, say it." He cooed softly into your ear, his chest somehow pressing even more into your back. His breath, warm and unrelenting against your skin, it made goosebumps rise across your arms and legs. You felt a chill despite the heat of his presence, your body instinctively tensing under his touch.
You knew, deep down, that no matter what you said, he wouldn't stop. That was how these situations always played out after all. But you also knew Haechan, you know the one thing he hates most is not getting what he wants, the thought of saying no and the lingering uncertainty of what he might do next made your stomach churn.
Not knowing what else to do besides pray that one of your friends outside just a few feet away would walk in and end this before it went any further. You hesitated, your body trembling ever so slightly as you nodded, almost unwillingly.
“I… I want this,” you murmured, the words slipping from your lips before you could stop them. “Hyuck…”
He hummed softly, his warm breath fanned against your skin, sending another shiver down your spine as his lips trailed lower, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses along the column of your throat. His pace was slow, deliberate as if he was savoring every reaction he pulled from you. His teeth grazed the delicate skin just below your jaw, a teasing bite followed by the soothing heat of his tongue. All simultaneously followed by his fingers moving faster against your poor clit.
A quiet chuckle rumbled in his chest, the sound low and pleased as he tilted your head further to the side, exposing more of your neck to him. His hands, warm and pace steady. You did everything in your power to fight back the little whines and moans escaping your lips, you couldn’t stand how much you loved the way he touched you, you wanted to hate this, wanted that escape still but your body completely told him otherwise. Your legs slightly shaking and hands tightly gripping the counter in front of you.
Your noises had him smirking against your skin, his grip on your thigh tightening as he pulled you closer like he couldn't stand the thought of any space between you. His hips now rolling against you in his own desperate but steady motions.
"You like that, don't you?" he murmured, voice dipping into something lower, rougher. His teeth grazed over the fresh mark he'd left on your skin, a silent claim, before he moved lower, trailing kisses along the curve of your shoulder.
His hand on your leg slid up your back, fingers tracing lazily over your spine before tangling into your hair. He gave it a soft tug, guiding your head back just enough for him to meet your gaze. His eyes were darker now, half-lidded as he studied you the way your lips parted, your chest rising and falling a little faster than before.
"You're always so sensitive," he spoke, his voice dripping with amusement as he added more pressure. The pads of his fingers rough against your clit made you whimper louder than intended. "You need to be quiet, baby. Want all our friends to hear how good i make you feel?"
You weakly shook your head, your mind far too dazed to comprehend anything he was saying. The heat between your legs was unbearable, every nerve in your body still buzzing from his touch. But before you could even catch your breath, the sound of the patio door sliding open made your stomach drop.
Haechan didn't hesitate. In one swift motion, his hands were off your aching clit and immediately readjusting your swimsuit bottoms back into place, hands pulling away from you like he hadn't just been driving you insane seconds ago. His expression didn't falter, not even a flicker of guilt or hesitation crossing his features as he reached for your glass on the counter, bringing it to his lips as if this was just another casual moment.
Renjun barely had time to take in the scene as he stepped inside, his gaze flickering between the two of you. His eyes briefly landed on you— your messy hair, your flushed cheeks, the way your arms instinctively wrapped around yourself like you were trying to shrink into the background. Embarrassment weighed heavily in your posture, but Haechan? He was completely unbothered, standing there with the same nonchalant douchebag grin you were used to seeing him with.
Renjun blinked, his confusion evident for a moment before he shrugged, deciding not to question it. Haechan, who was proud of himself for getting away with this, stepped away from you with an easy stretch, barely sparing you another glance as he made his way past Renjun.
And just like that, he was gone, slipping back outside to join the others without so much as a second thought, leaving you standing there messy, breathless, and weirdly turned on.
For the rest of that night and the entire next day, you did everything in your power to avoid Haechan. The situation alone left you unsettled, a shiver running down your spine whenever you thought about it. You hated everything about it — the way it happened, the way it made you feel. But what you loathed most was yourself. How you let him take advantage of you like that. How fear had rooted you in place, keeping you from standing your ground.
Now, late into the night, the house was quiet. Everyone had retreated to their rooms, either fast asleep or winding down from another relaxing day. But you were restless. Lying in bed, replaying everything over and over, had become unbearable. Eventually, you’d had enough.
Slipping on a clean bikini, you made your way outside to the hot tub by the pool. The cool night air contrasted with the steam rising from the water, the moonlight reflecting off its surface in shimmering waves. The soft hum of crickets mixed with the bubbling water, a gentle, rhythmic sound that finally eased the tension gripping your body. As you sank into the warmth, the heat wrapped around you, melting away the stiffness in your muscles, a contented sigh leaving your lips.
Your eyes fluttered shut, head tilted back as the soothing warmth of the water surrounded you. You didn’t notice the soft, subtle sound of the patio door sliding open or the quiet patter of footsteps approaching you. Your mind was too consumed by the quiet, the weight of everything else you had been trying to push aside.
But then, you felt the shift in the air as legs brushed against yours. Your head snapped up in surprise, only to meet Haechan’s gaze. A cold rush of panic ran through you, and your body tensed instantly. The chill spread down your spine as the faintest shiver of fear crawled up, uninvited. The instinct to run surged, but something about the way he was looking at you, something almost… apologetic, stopped you cold. You stayed rooted to your spot, too nervous to speak, your heart hammering in your chest as his eyes locked with yours.
Haechan studied you, his gaze narrowing slightly as he noticed the stiff tension in your posture. It hit him, a soft pang of regret, that you might be afraid of him right now. The thought twisted in his chest. He shifted, eyes dropping to the bubbles swirling in the water, giving himself a moment to collect his thoughts. When he looked back at you, his voice was gentle, almost too soft, a stark contrast to the way he last spoke to you.
“Why are you so scared? You know me better than anyone… I would never do anything to hurt you.”
His words made your stomach churn, the sudden tenderness sending an unsettling ripple through you.
The way he said it, so calm, so careful, it made your skin crawl in the worst way. It was all wrong— this soft tone wasn’t the one you were used to. Either he was always cocky and annoyed when he talked to you, or you truly haven’t heard this tone from him since you guys dated.
You could barely manage to hold his gaze as his words hung in the air, thick with something you couldn’t place, something that felt all too fragile. Your eyes shifted back to him, your lips twisted into a small, tight frown. “Your actions say otherwise, Haechan.”
Haechan’s eyes flickered with regret. Softly, he shook his head. “I know. I’m sorry, okay? I just… I lost control. I let my thoughts get the best of me. You didn’t deserve that.”
“What’s with the sudden change? How do you go from loving me to hating me to… doing what you did and now being sorry for it? It doesn’t make sense at all.”
The words hit Haechan harder than he expected. He leaned back slightly, running a hand through his hair, frustration building.
“I never hated you.”
“Felt like you did. And the feeling was strongly mutual.”
“No, come on, you know that’s not true.” Haechan’s voice was pleading, but it was strained with his own guilt. “You ended our relationship, your own free will, because in your words, you ‘couldn’t take this anymore.’
The fear in your demeanor quickly faded, immediately being replaced with irritation. You exhaled sharply, staring at the water for a moment to ground yourself. “You literally cheated on me,” you finally said, your voice trembling but still firm. “How do you expect me not to hate you?”
Haechan froze for a moment, his heart sinking. He knew he had done something unforgivable. He couldn’t deny that. But hearing it out loud, it was still a punch to the gut. “You cheated on me first,” he shot back, but the words felt hollow, even to him. “I just… I wanted you to feel the way I felt.”
Your expression twisted into disbelief. “What are you talking about? I never cheated on you?” You turned fully to face him now. “Even if that was true, how the fuck would two wrongs make a right?”
Haechan bit his lip, staring down at the water, avoiding your gaze. He had nothing to say to that. “I didn’t know better. I just did the first thing that came to mind. But I know the truth now, yn. You don’t need to lie about it.”
“Donghyuck,” you said softly, but it was almost like a warning. “You don’t know anything. Why would I cheat on you?”
The silence stretched for a moment, thick and heavy. Finally, Haechan looked up at you, his face softened with regret. “You tell me. I saw you unblock your ex on Instagram. His name was constantly popping up on your phone, and you were going out more often. Obviously, I assumed the worst.”
Your eyes narrowed at him once again, desperately trying to make sense of his words. “Okay… so you could’ve talked to me like a normal person?” You paused for a moment, sighing softly.
“I unblocked him because we ran into each other at a café, and honestly, we had a nice conversation. He started texting me more because he wanted to apologize for the way he treated me and ask me how I was doing. I only started going out more because you were always hanging out with Mark, and I wanted to be with my own friends as well.”
Haechan swallowed hard, his hands now gripping the edge of the tub as if to anchor himself. “So you guys never met up again?”
“No,” you replied, your voice laced with annoyance and slight disbelief that he’d even ask. “God, fuck no. I didn’t even accept his apology. My replies to him were so dry, and I kept mentioning you so much that he gave up and stopped talking to me.”
Haechan’s face flushed with shame. His eyes softened as he let out a quiet, “oh… I’m so sorry, yn..”
You looked at him for a long moment, as if assessing him, as if trying to decide if you could still be mad. You shook your head softly, your frustration still there but it was slipping. Your shoulders sagged, as you let out a breath you didn’t realize you'd been holding. “Yeah, you should be. I can’t believe you didn't just talk to me in the first place.” Your words were more tired than angry now, but they still carried weight.
But despite it all, despite the anger and the hurt, there was a crack in your resolve. You missed him, he missed you too, and you knew that. The silence between the two of you grew heavy again as your gaze softened, just a little.
He inched his way closer, the warmth of his palm grazing your skin as he cupped your cheek with delicate hesitation. His pleading searched yours, as if he was begging for your forgiveness.
“Yn, let me make it all up to you…” His voice was barely above a whisper, thick with something between regret and desperation.
You turned your head slightly, just enough to put distance between his touch and your resolve. “Hyuck, I don’t—”
“Please?” he interrupted, his thumb ghosting over your cheekbone. There was no force in his touch, only quiet insistence, as if the weight of his remorse alone could change your mind.
You let out a small breath you didn’t realize you were holding, your resolve crumbling at the way he looked at you, like you were the only thing that mattered. With a slow nod, your fingers found their way to his shoulders, pulling him slightly closer to you.
That was all the permission he needed.
Without hesitation, his lips crashed onto yours, desperate yet careful, as if he was scared you’d pull away. His hands trembled slightly as they found their place, one still cradling your cheek, the other gripping your waist, pulling you impossibly closer. You could feel the way his fingers dug in, not enough to hurt, but enough to make it clear that he wasn’t letting go.
The kiss was deep, laced with something far more potent than just lust. There was an unspoken desperation, a need to feel, to forget, to forgive. Quiet hums and breathless moans melted into each other's mouths, the heat between you building with every passing second. Your fingers slipped into his hair, tugging just enough to make his breath hitch, a quiet groan vibrating against your lips.
His grip on you tightened. His hands roamed, one splayed against the small of your back, the other trailing up your side before settling just beneath your ribs, as if he needed to feel every inch of you. He let out a shaky exhale before his tongue slid past your parted lips, deepening the kiss, making it messier, hungrier. His lips moved against yours with urgency, like he was afraid to let go.
The way his body pressed flush against yours sent a heat straight to your core, your legs instinctively tightening around his waist. He couldn’t help but moan at the feeling, his restraint slipping with every desperate press of your lips, every soft gasp that fell from you.
His hands gripped your waist, lifting you effortlessly onto the edge of the hot tub. The cool air met your damp skin, sending a shiver down your spine, but his touch, his mouth on yours, burned hotter than the water that lapped at your calves.
His lips never left yours, kissing you like he could pull you deeper into him, like if he kissed you hard enough, it would erase the distance that had once existed between you. His fingers kneaded into your hips, thumbs rubbing slow, teasing circles against your skin. He swallowed your whimper, his own breath coming out unsteady as he pressed himself closer, needing more, needing you.
"Missed you so much, pretty girl... could never forgive myself for letting you go." His words were whispered against your lips, each syllable dripping with regret and longing. His voice was low, raspy, barely holding together the emotions threatening to spill over.
Before you could respond, his lips left yours, trailing soft, lingering kisses down your jaw, moving slowly and deliberately, as if savoring the moment. His breath was warm against your skin, sending shivers down your spine as he nipped at the delicate flesh of your neck.
Instinctively, you tilted your head back, granting him more space to roam, your grip tightening in his hair as breathless pants and whimpers spilled from your lips.
His hands, firm yet reverent, traced down your sides as he continued his descent, mouth exploring every inch of you like he was trying to memorize the feeling all over again. Lips pressed against your shoulders, slow and sensual. His teeth grazed over your collarbone before he kissed his way lower, down the swell of your chest, your stomach, your thighs, taking his time, as if each kiss was an unspoken apology.
He missed this. He missed the way your body reacted under his touch, the way you shivered and tensed, the way your breath hitched with every kiss. His fingers caressed your skin with a delicate kind of desperation, like he was afraid you'd slip away again.
“God, you're so beautiful," he murmured against your thigh, voice drenched in need. His hands squeezed at your hips, holding you in place as he looked up at you, eyes dark with lust. He wanted to worship you, to love you in every way possible, to make you feel just how desperate he was for you, for your forgiveness.
You looked down at him, chest rising and falling in uneven breaths, lips parted softly as you tried to steady the emotions rushing through you. Your heart pounding so loudly you were sure he could hear it.
“I missed you just as much, Hyuck," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper, thick with longing. “I needed your touch more than anything."
A slow, satisfied smile curved at his lips before he leaned in, pressing delicate kisses up your thigh, inching closer, making sure you felt every lingering second of his touch.
"You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear that," he murmured against your skin, lips grazing over sensitive flesh.
Then, without breaking eye contact, he pressed a sweet, lingering kiss straight to your clothed core. The gesture was both reverent and teasing, a silent promise laced in the way he held you, the way his fingers squeezed at your sides like he was grounding himself in your presence.
"Let me take care of you, baby," he whispered, voice deep and filled with a tenderness that made your breath hitch. "I'll be gentle, the way you always liked."
His fingers traced slow, featherlight patterns along your thighs, his lips followed soon after, trailing soft, open-mouthed kisses, leaving warmth in their wake. Every motion, every touch, was deliberate like he was savoring you, worshiping you, determined to make up for every second you'd been apart.
You shivered at his words, your fingers instinctively threading through his hair, tugging just enough to make him groan softly against your skin. The heat pooling in your core only grew as he pressed another kiss over the dampened fabric between your thighs, his nose grazing against you in a way that had you biting back a whimper.
"Hyuck," you breathed out, barely able to keep yourself still under his touch.
His hands gripped your hips tighter, anchoring you in place as his lips moved deliberately, teasing, testing your patience. "Shh, baby," he murmured, his voice sending shivers straight through you. "Just let me take my time with you."
Another slow, lingering kiss against the sensitive spot between your legs had your back arching slightly, a needy whine slipping past your lips. He chuckled lowly at your reaction, pressing his mouth to your inner thigh, sucking just hard enough to leave a mark. His tongue soothed over the spot immediately after, his free hand sliding up your stomach, fingers tracing over your ribs like he needed to feel every inch of you under his touch.
"So pretty," he murmured against your skin, "Missed touching you... missed tasting you."
Your breath hitched at his words, your body reacting to every bit of his attention. His touch was gentle yet possessive, his lips slow and deliberate, as if savoring the way you trembled beneath him. His hands roamed, memorizing every dip and curve, pressing soft, warm kisses along your hips before his fingers toyed with the waistband of your soaked underwear.
"Tell me you want this," he whispered, his lips ghosting just above where you needed him most. His voice was soft, pleading, as if he needed to hear you say it, to know you wanted this just as badly as he did.
You looked down at him, eyes hazy with need, your fingers tightening in his hair as you gave the smallest nod. "I do, Hyuck," you whispered breathlessly. "I need you."
His eyes darkened at your words, his grip on you tightening ever so slightly. "That's all I needed to hear, baby."
And with that, he wasted no time sliding off your bikini bottoms, tossing them aside carelessly before spreading your thighs apart, his eyes darkening as he took in the sight of you. Without a second thought, he dipped his face into your heat, his lips brushing the sensitive skin with an intensity that made you gasp.
You could feel the heat radiating off him as his breath fanned over you, a soft shiver running through your body. His fingers sunk into your thighs, keeping you steady as he kissed you slowly, teasingly, taking his time to savor every inch of you. You couldn't help the soft moans that escaped your lips as his tongue finally made contact with your aching clit, warm and relentless, moving in slow, deliberate strokes that had you bucking against him instinctively.
His eyes flicked up to meet yours, "You taste so fucking good," he murmured against you, his voice husky and laced with need.
He was quick to pick up his pace, lapping at your pussy like his life depended on it. The way his mouth moved against you made you forget everything time, space, the world around you. All that mattered was the heat that coiled inside you, building with every passing second as his hands tightened their grip.
You felt yourself unraveling, the pressure in your chest mounting, the tension in your core winding tighter and tighter until you couldn't hold back any longer. The way he drove you to the edge without hesitation, without mercy, was maddening. You gripped his hair, tugging him closer, your body unable to stop itself from reacting to him.
"Hyuck.." you gasped, your voice breathless, barely a whisper as you dug your fingers into his scalp.
"Please..."
He smirked against you, the feeling of his lips curving into a grin sending another surge of heat through your body. "Please what, baby?" he teased, his voice low.
"I need you," you whimpered, barely able to keep your composure. "so bad.."
He chuckled softly, his breath warm against your sensitive skin, lifting his head just enough to lick his lips with a sly grin. "Be patient, angel," he murmured, his voice low and teasing. "Can you do that for me?"
You whined softly, the sound barely escaping your throat, before nodding eagerly, your body desperate for him, hips arched forward instinctively, silently begging him to continue.
He smirked, the dark gleam in his eyes full of satisfaction as he saw the way you squirmed under his gaze. "Good girl," he praised, his voice smooth like honey, almost cruel in how calm it was. "Just sit there, keep making those pretty little noises for me."
And with that, he dove back in, his mouth moving against you with newfound urgency, his tongue working you over with perfect precision. The wet sounds of his lips against your cunt mixed with the breathless moans spilling from your mouth, the pleasure so overwhelming it left your head spinning.
Your hands gripped at his hair, tugging sharply as your hips rocked forward, meeting his movements in a desperate attempt to chase the high only he could give you. He groaned at the sensation, the vibration sending another wave of pleasure shooting through your body.
Then, without warning, you felt his fingers tracing along your folds, teasing you with slow, torturous strokes.
"So wet for me," he mumbled, his breath hot against your slick skin. "You want more princess?"
You nodded frantically, your grip tightening on him.
"Please, Hyuck," you whined, your voice trembling.
A deep chuckle rumbled through his chest before he finally slipped two fingers inside you, slow and deliberate, letting you feel every inch of him. Your walls clenched around him immediately, a sharp gasp leaving your lips as he curled his finger just right, pressing against that perfect spot that had you seeing stars.
"There you go," he cooed, watching your body react to him. "Always take me so well, pretty girl."
His lips quickly made their way back to your clit, tongue flicking gently as he wrapped his lips around it, sucking you with a newfound passion.
The sensation was overwhelming, the combination of his mouth and fingers sending a hot, electric pulse through your veins. Your legs trembled, your breath coming in ragged gasps as the pressure in your core built higher and higher, coiling so tightly you thought you might snap at any second.
"Hyuck-" you choked out, your thighs tightening around his head.
He hummed against you, the sound vibrating through your entire body as his fingers quickened their pace, fucking into you with more intensity, more purpose. He could feel you getting closer, your body tensing, your moans turning into desperate, broken cries.
"That's it, pretty," he murmured against your heat, his voice rough with desire. "cum for me, baby."
And with one last flick of his tongue and a perfectly timed curl of his fingers, you shattered. The pleasure crashed over you like a tidal wave, your body convulsing as your release hit you with blinding force. Your back arched off the edge, a strangled moan tearing from your throat as he worked you through it, not stopping until your body was shaking from the overstimulation.
Only then did he finally pull away, his fingers slipping out of you slowly, as he pressed one last kiss against your sore soaked pussy. He looked up at you, his lips glistening, a cocky smirk playing on his face.
"That's my girl," he murmured, bringing his fingers up to his lips and sucking them clean, his eyes never leaving yours.
"I’ll never get enough of how good you taste."
love letter from dazedhyu 💌 augegsgshsj 😵💫,, i wanted to add more to the end but i physically cannot bring myself to.. maybe one day a pt2 will be in the works if people actually enjoy this! lmk lmk lmk! this is my first fic that i pushed through to finish.. ik it’s not the greatest T_T
smile for the camera
pairing: haechan x (f) reader x jisung (ft. a reoccurring renjun who’s mainly there for suspenseful purposes)
genre/warnings: smut, cheating, unprotected sex, dom!haechan, switch!jisung, switch!reader, jisung is a virgin, degradation, praise, spanking, pussy slapping, sexting, rough kink, edging, really bad 3some scenes bc I am terrible @ balancing attention, oral (both m/f receiving), f I missed smth lmk
summary: upon accidentally finding a video of you and your boyfriend haechan doing some very sexual things, jisung knows that he shouldn’t watch it. he knows that it would be an extreme invasion of privacy, but he’s unable to control himself when he sees the thumbnail. so he settles for only watching 30 seconds. except, 30 seconds turns into 30 minutes, and by then he’s buried himself too deep into a life-changing situation—or in which jisung’s terrible at keeping secrets.
wored count: 19.8k of pure filfth (what the fuck is wrong with me)
author’s note: this is a repost of an oldie but goldie, i think. i hope. feedback is appreciated!
Fuck.
Jisung knows that there’s a plethora and a half reasons why this is a terrible idea. For one, it’s an invasion of privacy. The thumbnail is explicit, leaving zero room for ignorance—the bare, nearly naked sight of you and Haechan blankets over the screen, and if that isn’t enough to tell him that this isn’t something he was supposed to see, then the rather intimate position you and your boyfriend are in is quite the message.
He didn’t mean to find it. He wasn’t searching, wasn’t looking—not for this video in particular anyways. He was simply going through the camera roll in search of something else, and happened to stumble across what is so obviously you and Haechan’s sextape. If he had known that there was inappropriate things on there, Jisung would have asked for permission before he went on Haechan’s laptop. Yet the shocking discovery has him filled to the brim with curiosity, despite him knowing it would be wrong.
Thirty seconds. I can watch thirty seconds, then cut it off, he thinks. What’s thirty seconds out of a minutes-long video? You and Haechan can go for hours, the sounds you make whenever you stay the night at the dorm keep Jisung up long enough to know that. A part of him doesn’t mind since you sound so sweet, and he can’t help but imagine what it would be like to take Haechan’s place, to have you crying his name. No, he shakes his head. He doesn’t need to think like that. It’s bad enough that he’s watching this video. So he looks around the room a couple times, even though no one’s home except Renjun, and he’s asleep. Then he reluctantly presses play, turning up the volume a couple notches. He’d never miss the opportunity to hear you.
The tape starts off quick, you already sitting on your knees between your boyfriend’s legs as you took him in your mouth. Haechan pointed the camera in a way that gives Jisung a near-perfect image of what it would be like to have you sucking him off, with your lips wrapped perfectly around his cock and your eyes so round as you gazed up at him innocently. If you looked at him like that, Jisung would probably cum on the spot.
“Gonna show the camera what a whore you are for me?” Haechan said, out of Jisung’s vision for the most part and he prefers it that way. He’d feel too guilty looking at his friend’s face, and of course he’ll feel even more guilty looking at yours, but he’ll suppress those feelings until he inevitably sees you in person.
Then-you nodded a little in response, looking so desperate and eager to please. If only you knew Jisung would be watching this, would you have still agreed to filming yourself so explicitly? He doubts that you would’ve, it isn’t like your relationship has ever been anything other than platonic. He’s nothing more than the best friend of the man you’re dating, of course you only see him as a friend, too. Nothing more.
“Then get to work, baby.”
It took nothing more for you to comply, sucking your boyfriend’s dick in your mouth while your tongue swirled alive. Your hand wrapped around him too, grip not too heavy, yet not too loose either. It’s no surprise to Jisung, but you look amazing with a cock stuffed between your lips and he imagines it’s him instead. You’d probably feel just as good as you look. Honestly, Jisung’s never had anything other than his own hands around his dick, and you look so skilled that he knows you’d be promising.
Even if he couldn’t see, he can hear. Haechan’s a moaner - quite a loud one - and he’s making it obvious you’re doing a great job with how utterly verbal he is. All the moans and praises spilling from between his lips had you soaking and motivated you to work harder.
By the time Jisung thinks to check the timestamp, he’s already more than thirty seconds in. This sends him into mini-panic, but he slowly decides it wouldn’t hurt to watch a little more. So he does, in too deep to stop.
02:05, you looked up at Haechan with a gaze that gets Jisung hard. 06:48, you were gagging because Haechan had gotten a little rough on you, tugging at your hair and using his hands to control you, facefucking you. 07:12, 10:22, 12:57, by the time Jisung’s thirteen minutes in, Haechan’s patience had dissipated and he’d thrown you onto the bed, claiming he wanted to cum in you—not your mouth. Then Jisung has this thought of what it would be like to cum inside you, and wonders if one day you’d ever let him. He knows that you wouldn’t, but it’s still a fun fantasy.
Jisung finds himself enjoying this new angle better. Your whole body is on display, thanks to Haechan taking off your undergarments as well as the remaining portions of his own clothes. He had you on all fours, waiting impatiently for him as he teased your slit from behind you, gliding his cock over it while being careful not to slide in. The moment you whined, Jisung pulls his own dick out, not entirely, but enough to where his fingers can touch him in place of yours.
“So needy,” Haechan cooed, brushing his cock against your wetness, “you’re so wet. All for me, right? Tell me who got you this wet.”
“You,” you muttered.
Haechan drew back, sounding a desperate whimper from you, “Speak up, baby. Can’t hear you.”
“You!” you said it louder, adding something extra you knew your boyfriend would like enough to quit his teasing and finally slide in, “you, Hyuck, only you. Want you s-so bad.”
Just like that, Haechan gave back in, finally slipping himself in and stretching you far and wide. “Fuck, baby,” he groaned, gripping your waist and rocking against your hips.
At the same time, Jisung strokes himself, watching the way you let your boyfriend toy with you, how needily you take everything he gives you. He thinks you look beautiful, your back in a pretty arch, your thighs and breast shaking as your body lurches forward at the impact of Haechan’s thrusts, your face—god, do you look gorgeous when you moan. Maybe there is a privilege in being a viewer. Haechan couldn’t, though Jisung can see your face perfectly.
“Harder,” you begged, your voice practically muffled as you whimpered into the pillows and mattress, yet he still heard you, “harder, Hyuck, please, please, please?”
“Baby want’s it harder?” He chuckled. “You’ve been so good for me, so I’ll give you everything my sweet girl wants.”
Watching Haechan touch you in all the places Jisung oh so desperately wishes he was, he feels like he’s going insane. You’re so incredibly fucked out, so out of it that the pleasure has practically locked you inside of a trance. Knowing you’re a sucker for contact, your boyfriend toyed with your body a little more, rubbing your clit to heighten the feeling, slowly yet steadily climbing his hands up your skin until they’re brushing your chest. Jisung moans when you do, unable to shake his urge to be inside you. Just one time, he begs to no one in particular, one time, and he’ll be able to happily move on with his life.
It feels like with every moment that passes, he’s closer to the edge. He’s blocked out everything else in the world, hyper-focused on your body and face. Your mouth agape, the pretty sounds that tumbled loose every time your boyfriend hit the spot, how caught up in the pleasure you were. If you gave him a chance, he thinks he could make you feel good, too. Sure, all the experience he has is with the palm of his hand, and he’s no where near as experienced as your boyfriend, but with a little guidance, he thinks he’d make you crack.
Though right now, he’s about to crack.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. Jisung’s been here plenty enough times before to know that’s he’s almost there—not necessarily watching you like this, but on those occasions when you stay over and go at it with Haechan during the dead nights where you think no one is awake, where he’s secretly hearing you and shutting his eyes, imagining a twisted fantasy of you and him. He even sometimes does it when you’re not there, getting off to the memory of your pretty lips or gentle fingers, both around his cock. Up until now, it worried him that the thought of fucking your mouth kept crawling stealthily back inside his brain. You’re so gorgeous, so cute and loving. Though upon seeing you beg for Haechan to be rougher with you, witnessing secondhand how you took your boyfriend’s length despite him forcing it down your throat, he thinks you can handle it.
Fuuuuucck. Jisung bites at his bottom lip as he cums, shutting his eyes as the pressure breaks through his body. It’s so intense, taking everything in him not to make noise as his cum shoots into his pants.
When he’s done, it takes him a couple seconds to blink back in. Then the realization of what he’s done hits, following with the guilt and shame of his actions. He always feels bad after he cums to you, but this was different. This time, he had done something inexcusable, and he can’t help but wonder about how you’d feel if you found out. Would you think he’s a creep? Could you ever look at him the same again? Jisung doesn’t think he can live with that, so he quickly exits the tab and discards all evidence of his activity, shutting the laptop and buttoning back up his pants. He’ll definitely need to wash those himself.
Swiftly, he swoops the laptop up, and walks into the hall to put it back. The video he was originally looking for is long-forgotten, and he spent over half an hour watching you and Haechan. Jisung’s a terrible liar. If Haechan comes back before he can put his laptop back, he’s toast.
“Why do you have Haechan’s MacBook?”
Jisung freezes. Fuck, he forget about Renjun.
“I don’t,” he winces, realizing that’s a boldfaced lie. He has puppy stickers on his MacBook. Unmistakable puppy stickers, all your doing. “Okay, so maybe I do—”
Renjun glares.
“Fine, I totally do! But I wasn’t doing anything, I was just trying to find that video of Jeno and Haechan from the beach!” Jisung defends himself like he’s being accused of murder, “You know Haechan keeps everything on his laptop!”
Renjun nods his head. Valid. He’s still skeptical, but he doesn’t care enough to further interrogate the younger, so he just shrugs and walks into the living room. Jisung sighs in relief. He’s gotten away with it for now. Now he just needs to put the laptop back in Haechan’s room and pretend that what happened never actually happened.
Jisung’s been acting weird lately.
No scooting next to you on the couch and lying his head in your lap. No asking you how your day has been. No shyly waving at you whenever you first walk through the dorm door. No awkward hello’s (hell, he’s hardly even speaking to you.)
Even when you try and speak to him, his answers are plain and simple.
How’s your day? Fine.
Did you guys have a good practice? It was nice.
Have you been thinking about trying any new hair colors? Not really.
You don’t think he’s even looking at you. And Jisung’s really not that shy as you originally thought him out to be, after he got to know you a little, he was holding eye contact with you during conversations just fine. He’s a confident speaker even. But you try not to overthink things and try to get used to the emptiness without his normal self, chalking it up to him having a bad week or something. It’s normal, everyone has those.
Mission unsuccessful. You are the queen of overthinking. In fact, you are literally the walking definition of overthinking. If someone Googled the meaning of overthink, your name would probably pop up next to it.
So you turn to your all-time favorite therapist, AKA your boyfriend.
“Is it just me, or has Jisung been acting different lately?”
You’re at the dorms, in the middle of folding laundry. Haechan stands near you, doing absolutely nothing. Normally the guys would absolutely never let you do their laundry, and it’s Haechan’s turn this week, but you offered and somewhat aggressively insisted on folding, so he let you. He knows that you willingly do chores when there’s something on your mind and you’re trying to get it off but you can’t, so he was aware there was only a matter of time before you asked him some ridiculous question.
Your boyfriend blinks, not expecting the question, but if he’s caught off-guard then he conceals it quickly. “Just you, babe.”
You frown, “Think about it. He’s been acting so weird.”
“Jisung’s always weird,” Haechan laughs, “I haven’t noticed anything. He seems the same to me. Why are you so worried about him anyways?”
“Because he’s being weird, Haechan, I’m telling you. He doesn’t wave at or greet me anymore, doesn’t sit next to me during movies, and he won’t even talk to me anymore! I asked him if there was any hair colors he wanted to try and he said not really. He always has a list of hell no’s and shit that’s on his bucket list. This isn’t normal, Hyuck,” you ramble, halting in the middle of folding some Adidas sweatshirt.
Haechan pauses, rewinding a little and realizing that you may have a point. A small point, but a point nonetheless. “Well now that you mentioned it, I don’t remember having to hyper watch him during movie nights.”
“Exactly, because he doesn’t lay in my lap!”
“Thank God, maybe he’s finally learning boundaries,” Haechan says, relieved if that’s the case. Jisung’s never been particularly touchy with you, but he does use you like a human pillow during movie nights. Not that you mine, but your slightly possessive boyfriend does. “I was gonna kill him if he kept that shit up any longer.”
“Babe,” you whine, “seriously.”
“Oh, I am being serious. But I’ll ask the guys if they’ve noticed anything,” and as if perfectly on-cue, Renjun walks into the living room, “Yo Renjun, you think Jisung’s been acting weird lately?”
Renjun shrugs. “Nope, why?”
“Cause y/n thinks he is, and she’s like super worried. Been tryna tell her it’s probably nothing, but you know how she is—”
“Hey!”
Renjun pauses for a couple seconds, brows furrowed as he tries his hardest to think. And then it dawns on him. “Wait, the other day I did see him leave his room with your MacBook.”
Haechan furrows his eyebrows. “My MacBook?”
“Yeah, it had puppy stickers on the cover. I asked him why he had it, and he did a whole defensive rant talking about how he was simply, and I quote, ‘just trying to find that video of Jeno and Haechan from the beach’. I hope he never gets interrogated for something serious,” Renjun says coolly.
MacBook. Video. Haechan’s MacBook. Video. Oh god, this cannot be what you think it is. Yet as you gaze at your boyfriend, you can tell he’s thinking the exact same thing as you.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he groans. “When was this?”
“Like four days ago, why?” Renjun questions, utterly confused.
The time lines up, that’s when he started acting distant with you. He definitely saw something he wasn’t supposed to.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you whimper, tugging your boyfriend’s hair.
The ultimate stress reliever, head from your boyfriend. You’re not even exaggerating, the man eats pussy like his life depends on every lap. In this case particularly however, you’re ninety-nine percent sure he’s more so trying to shut you up by distracting you with something that’ll make you whimper in pleasure instead of distress, and you refuse to go down without a challenge. It is, needless to say, a challenge, especially with how the way that he makes you see stars clouds your mind, but you won’t succumb yet.
“Feel good?” Haechan parts for a split second to speak, then dips right back in unhesitatingly. He really doesn’t have to ask, but you know he only is because he wants to hear it from you, as though your moans aren’t telling enough.
“Yes, f-fuck,” you moan, unable to numb yourself to the pleasure. You wouldn’t even if you could, though it would be useful for you to convey your thoughts right now—the ones that keep slipping away the more he works between your thighs, yet you’re clutching onto them desperately. “But babe, gosh, what about Jisung—”
Haechan draws back, resulting in a whine to sound from you. “Baby, tell me you’re not talking about another man while I’m eating you out.”
“I can’t stop thinking about it,” you bemoan, “I mean, I could, but I don’t want to. I’m worried about him, you know, like what if he’s traumatized. And what if he never looks at me the same again, he’s never gonna—oh.”
Haechan cuts you off mid-rant by stuffing his fingers inside you, catching you a little off-guard since you hadn’t suspected his actions, or even take notice of how he moved from between your thighs, positioning himself behind you with your back to his chest. “Do you want him to forget?”
His question seems to catch you off-guard a little more. “Huh?”
“Do you want Jisung to forget what he saw?” He repeats. “He saw you naked, baby. He saw you sucking me off, maybe even you getting fucked into this mattress if he’s that nosy. Do you want him to forget that he saw you like that, or do you want him to remember? To get curious?”
If you’re bring frank, the thought has crossed your mind at one point. You didn’t want to admit it to yourself (because you already have a man, how dare you want another?) but a part of you craves Jisung. You think it has for a while, you’re just now coming to terms with it. That doesn’t mean that you don’t want Haechan—you do want him, you love him and you’ll never stop—though you can’t help but want Jisung a little, too.
“I… I don’t know,” you lie, afraid of choosing the wrong answer. How would Haechan take that you want to fuck another guy? And how could you unabashedly admit that to him?
“Stop being complicated, I know that you know,” he pulls away his fingers, as though to punish you for lying, “do you wanna fuck him or not, y/n?”
As expected, you whine once more for the umpteenth time this hour. You’re thinking about answering honestly if it means that he’ll stop denying you pleasure. “Why are you asking me this when you said you’d kill him if he kept lying on my lap!”
“I know what I said, and it has nothing to do with my question. Now if you wanna cum, tell me the truth,” your boyfriend whispers, silk voice giving you goosebumps, “if it helps, I know Jisung and I’m like a hundred-percent sure that he is absolutely anything but traumatized. The horny bastard probably got off to it if anything, and now he’s all embarrassed and worried about you finding out. That’s why he’s avoiding you.”
You furrow your eyebrows, “And not you?”
“I’m assuming it’s because you’re the one he wants to fuck,” Haechan shrugs, “since he’s usually all over you instead of me.”
Well fuck. You hate this. You hate it because if Jisung wants you just as bad as you want him, then something could really happen, and worst of all, Haechan’s okay with that. That’s probably all the reasons you need to love this, but you can’t shake the feeling that something about this is wrong, even if you want it. It’s the same feeling that’s prevented you from accepting how you feel, all of the shame and the guilt inside you. But fuck, are you willing to ignore it. Your moral compass is malfunctioning. You’re malfunctioning, probably. There’s no reason you’re turned on thinking about all the ways you could have both of them, and you can’t say the fantasies aren’t fun. You can’t say that you don’t want to take a chance at living them out. And even though technically, you can, that would most definitely be lying. You’re a woman of truth, and nothing but.
So you decide to tell him the truth.
“I… want him to remember,” you admit, your voice low but audible.
“Course you do,” Haechan crams a pair of his fingers back inside you, prompting a fairly loud gasp from between your lips in response, “you’re such a cock-hungry fucking slut, you’ll never be satisfied with just one, hm?”
“N-no, not a—fuck—slut,” even though you deny it, Haechan feels the way you clench around his fingers when he degrades you. He even felt the way you clenched around them when he described all the ways Jisung’s potentially seen you, and from that moment forward, he knew exactly what you wanted.
“Yes, you are, baby,” he disagrees, observing how you moan for him so needily. He thinks about how Jisung felt the moment he saw you like this in that video, so gone and pathetic. Then he remembers Jisung’s horniness is through the roof, and he was definitely turned on. “Such a slut. My greedy slut. Tell me you’re my slut.”
“I-I’m your slut, Hyuck,” you whisper, too caught up in bliss to speak an octave louder without forcing yourself.
Haechan slaps your thigh, and you moan consequently, “Louder.”
“I’m your slut!” you cry, louder than intended, yet your volume pleases him.
Satisfied, he smirks a little to himself. “Good girl. You wanna cum?”
“God, yes,” you’re nodding your head almost violently, “please?”
“Go ahead, baby. Let go for me.”
You’re in a daze-like state, feeling almost lightheaded as you clutch your boyfriend’s thighs for leverage. It’s either extremely early in the morning or extremely late at night and you’re at the dorms again, so you dig your teeth into your lips to try and conceal your moans as you cum, almost too out of it to even do that. Though as many times as you’ve been in this situation, biting back moans until your lips are bleeding, you like to think that you’ve perfected the silent skill.
The moment you come down from your high you lie your head against your boyfriend’s chest, and he whispers into your ear all these sweet praises, telling you how good you are for him. Everything is typical, with him holding you tight and close.
“Now, I want you to hear something,” Haechan says, throwing you off a little.
“Hear what?” You ask, nothing but confused.
“Shh,” he whispers, “listen carefully.”
Allowing your curiosity to get the best of you, your lips press together in absolute silence, and you’re even holding in your breath so that it won’t distract you too much. It takes a couple of seconds, but your ears begin to pick up on the faint sounds of groans coming from the wall that separates Haechan and Jisung’s rooms, which could only mean one thing.
He’s jerking off… to you?
Fuck, why does that turn you on? You wish that you were right there next to him, so that you could perfectly hear how deep his voice is when he grunts like that. Better yet, you wish that you were touching him yourself, so that you could see how his face looks when you make him cum. It isn’t fair. He’s seen you naked, while you’re left with not much more than your imagination.
“Haechan…” you whisper speechlessly.
“I know,” he whispers back. “He’s been doing this every night we fuck when you stay over. I know you’re always too fucked out to hear anything, though.”
Oh, god. The walls are severely thin here, you can only imagine all the noises he’s heard you make over the nights. All the times he’s came, and no wonder you hear him insisting on washing his own laundry. The guys already tease him, saying that it’s because he’s always jacking off, but you’re the sole one that never would’ve thought he was truly this horny—that he’d jack off to you.
“What do we do?” You ask, although your head isn’t exactly blank. It’s just that everything you’re thinking, you’re not sure your boyfriend would approve of.
“Confront him,” Haechan replies, like the answers obvious, and the moment you stare back at him in shock and appalled, he adds, “I’m not mad at you or against it, baby. If you wanna fuck him, then you can once on the condition that I have to be there. I’m sure that horny fuck wouldn’t care.”
You don’t believe your ears. “Really?”
“Yes,” he begins to yawn a little, “but tomorrow. For now let’s go to bed.”
The two of you lie down, and you go to sleep imagining all the possibilities of what could happen within the next twenty-four hours, snuggled up in your boyfriend’s arms.
The following day, you and Haechan plan out the confrontation quietly in his bedroom. Since the walls are thinner than you thought, most of your conversation is in hushed whispers and low tone.
Just thinking about it has you excited. If everything goes according to plan—essentially meaning if Jisung doesn’t shy off despite your boyfriend’s insistence on watching instead of participating—then you’ll have him wrapped around your finger, right where you want him. You just hope that he won’t freak out too much.
“You got it?” Haechan whispers once he finishes explaining the rundown of the plan.
It’s nothing like some elaborate scheme, or intricately-detailed ploy. There isn’t much to it but patience and faith in the slight steps to play out in your favor, although the ratio of your amount of the two things is dramatic.
“Yeah,” you reply a little too fast, a little too enthusiastically, “can’t wait.”
“Aw, that’s too bad,” he taunts, “you don’t have a choice. But I’ll get the rest of the guys out of here by two, and then you’ll have Virgin Mary all to yourself. He just won’t have you to himself.”
You make a confused face, “What’s with the emphasis on him being a horny virgin?”
“You don’t get why I want to watch, do you?” Haechan asks, and you shake your head. You’ve been tempted to ask, but you’ve already come to terms with the fact that your boyfriend sometimes works in mysterious ways far beyond your comprehension level. “Baby, I doubt Jisung’s gonna know what to do with you. He’s gonna need a couple of pointers plus a push in the right direction. And who knows your body and how to fuck you better than to me?”
No one. Not a single soul. You find it a little embarrassing, but not even you. Haechan didn’t take your virginity, but the first time sure felt like he had—he had reached places you didn’t know were there, let alone reachable, and he made sex seem like something totally new. No one has quite pleased you the way your boyfriend has.
“So you’re going to… teach him?” Is the conclusion you make when you put the pieces together, and Haechan nods.
“If that’s what you want to call it.”
That is what you want to call it.
Time passes rather slowly. Every hour feels twice as long, and you feel as though you’re going to die any moment now. The second you hear the sound of the guys piling outside the dorm, there’s a burst of excitement in you, making your stomach turn and swarm with butterflies. (It’s killed briefly when Jaemin rushes back inside, claiming he forgot his phone, but once they drive away you’re filled with bliss once more.)
Jisung steps outside his room, “Where’s everyone going?”
“Away,” Haechan replies vaguely as you two walk back down the hall.
“So it’s just us three?”
“Yep,” you and your boyfriend answer in unison.
Jisung looks absolutely petrified, though not wanting to appear suspicious (he’s kind of late, but it’s the effort that counts) his face soothes soon after. “Cool.” To him, it is anything but cool.
“Cool,” you repeat, “so you wanna watch a movie with us in Haechan’s room?”
“I don’t think I should—”
“Please?” Your eyes are begging him, pleading at him, and for safe measure, you add, “I miss you Sungie, it feels like it’s been forever.”
Truthfully, it hasn’t been anywhere near that long. Though Jisung knows that he’s been extremely distant with you—probably why you feel kicked away—and he feels terrible. Plus, it’s impossible to say no to you, especially when you give him that look, gazing at him like a sad puppy.
He gives in, “Okay.”
“Yay!” You clap your hands together. You clutch Jisung’s fist and begin to drag him down the hallway, “Babe go make popcorn!”
Some moments later, everyone’s settled down. The three of you sitting on Haechan’s bed, with you squeezed in the middle like the cream of an oreo. You rest your head on Jisung’s shoulder and he tenses a little at first, though eventually relaxs.
Everything’s going great and according to plan. Jisung looks calm, laughing the movie and being as naturally clingy as he usually is during movie nights. You and Haechan glance at one another occasionally, silently deciding on the perfect moment to strike and telepathically agreeing that that moment is now.
Haechan pauses Netflix, making Jisung whine in complaint. “Why’d you do that? It was getting suspenseful.”
“You’re getting a little comfortable, don’t you think?” Haechan tilts his head.
It takes Jisung a couple of seconds to realize what Haechan’s talking about, but once he does, he quickly separates his hands away from you and scoots over to put a little distance between the two of you.
His face burns like fire. “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry? You’re a repeat offender, Jisung, sorry isn’t gonna cut it this time,” and before Jisung can apologize again, Haechan adds, “plus, I have another question for you.”
“What is it?” Jisung swallows sharply.
“When you watched that video, did you cum?” It’s you that asks the question this time, much to Jisung’s surprise. He’s chewing hard on his lip, nervousness spelt out across his face.
Still, he plays dumb, holding onto the slim piece of remaining hope he has to consider that maybe this is a joke, that you aren’t serious and don’t actually know he’s seen the video. “W-what video?” Even his own voice betrays him, and Jisung knows from this moment that he’s screwed. Terribly fucking screwed.
“I’m sure you know it very well. The one where she’s giving me head and I’m fucking her into this mattress, remember?” Haechan inquires, a smirk blooming onto his lips as he watches Jisung break.
He’s done, he thinks. You probably hate him. You’re probably disgusted with him, repulsed by him, and appalled that his prying eyes saw you in such a sexual context. He doesn’t look at you, afraid of what he might see, holding his head down low in shame as he’s unable to lie to you anymore. “Sorry. I’m so sorry,” he stammers, “I didn’t, I wasn’t trying—I didn’t mean to, I just… I was just trying to find—”
“That video of me and Jeno from the beach, yes, Renjun told us. But you found something you liked better and just couldn’t help yourself, could you?” Something about humiliating Jisung, toying with him a little simply to see how he reacts is fun to Haechan. All of his reactions, needless to say, are amusing; shuffling in his spot; fidgeting with his hands; swallowing and gulping hard; biting his bottom lip; and his eyes widening in panic as his cheeks sting with embarrassment.
You add, “We heard you last night, too. Do you always listen in on us like that?”
Jisung whimpers, “Y/n…”
“Answer my question, Sungie,” you lean into his ear, “do you always listen in on us like that?”
Whenever he’s awake, he definitely does. Jisung isn’t oblivious to the fact that if he can overhear Haechan’s room, then you guys can certainly overhear him in his room, but he thought he was quiet enough to get away with it. You have to give him credit, if Haechan would’ve never pointed it out you probably would have never noticed.
“Y-yes,” he admits in a low murmur, head still hanging low, “I’m sorry, you just sound so pretty when you… make noises, and it wakes me up. But sometimes I stay up and wait because I know you’ll start soon. Please don’t be mad.”
“Mad? You don’t get it, do you?” You move to straddle his lap, gripping his chin to force eye contact with him. He appears taken aback by your actions, but doesn’t fight them. “If I was mad, we wouldn’t be doing this, Jisung. I’m here because I want you, and you want me, right?”
Jisung’s Adam’s apple bobs as silence prevails over his voice.
“Answer her,” Haechan commands. “Do you want her?”
Jisung chokes out, “Yes.”
Shaking your head in dissatisfaction, you instruct, “Say it. Tell me what you want. Do I have to walk you through it like an ameteur?”
Jisung instantly shakes his head. He’s not a baby, he can do this. “You,” he finds the courage to say, fighting the urge to cower, “I want you.”
“Good boy,” you purr, “but you didn’t answer my first question, so I have some more for you.”
Trying his hardest to conceal how evidently the pet name fazes him while simultaneously bracing himself for the severity of your question, he asks coolly, “What are they?”
You lean back into his ear, but with you in his lap and his hands holding your waist this time, it feels so much different. “Do you moan for me when you cum?” Your voice tickles his neck, but he thinks he that likes it, “do you say my name?”
Fuck. Jisung could get hard at the memory, recalling all the times he’s came to you, moaning your name quietly to himself as he imagines you’re around his cock—your hands, your pussy, your mouth, anything. He’ll take anything as long as it’s from you. The only time he doesn’t moan your name is when he has to be silent, like when he was watching that video of you, in spite of how badly he wanted to call out for you right then and pray that you would somehow answer.
“Yes, fuck,” slowly, all of his shame and dignity is dissipating, “I imagine it’s you,” he mutters.
That gets you going as well. Jisung fucking his hand to the thought of you, pretending that it’s you, and moaning your name as he cums is a sight you’d pay to see. You’re pretty sure he’d send you a video for free though.
Deciding this needs to escalate quicker than it is, Haechan instructs, “Touch her, Jisung.”
“T-touch her?” Jisung repeats back, incredulous that this is the same Haechan who shoots him knife sharp glares whenever he so much as accidentally brushes his fingers against yours during movie nights. “Are you sure?”
“You think I’d ask you to touch my girlfriend if I wasn’t sure?” Haechan deadpans. “Honestly, you’re asking the wrong person.”
So Jisung shifts his focus back to you, and you eye him with these lustful eyes that tell him, scream at him that you want him. It’s so much like a fantasy that he’s half-tempted to pinch himself to test if he’s dreaming or if this is just a wet dream come true. “Can I touch you?” Jisung asks. His eyes are a little wide still, but he sounds so much more confident.
“Please,” you answer, and that’s all it takes for his hands to roam your body.
Jisung’s fingers move gracefully yet like the wild, untamable waver of a flame. As his fingers pull your top above your head, you can’t help but gaze at his fingers, long and bony. Fuck, you can only imagine the places they could reach, and you’re not too proud to say you’ve thought about it on more than one occasion. Because of your willingness to push it away though, the thought hasn’t ever bloomed into a full-on fantasy. Not until now, of course. This time however, you’re finding it perfectly acceptable to wonder.
He struggles to unclasp your bra though, earning a chorus of laughs from you and your boyfriend. But upon seeing Jisung’s flushed face, you try and teach him, with Haechan helping do a perfect demonstration.
Once Jisung thinks he has the hang of it, he says, “Put it back on.”
You furrow your eyebrows. “For what?”
“I want to see if I can do it,” he replies, making you and your boyfriend both scoff. But you indeed put the bra back on, and he successfully takes it off with a dramatic decrease in effort.
You nod in approval, “Good job.”
Jisung realizes he loves being praised by you. And in that same moment, he realizes that there isn’t much he won’t do to satisfy you so that he can hear you praise him some more.
He sucks your nipple into his mouth, fingers fiddling with your other one so that it wouldn’t be neglected. When Haechan talked down on Jisung for being a virgin, it made you think that you would have to teach him everything. But it seems like he’s done his research, because he knows a thing or two. That or he’s just naturally good.
“Shit,” you gasp, “Feels so good, Sungie.”
The look on your face tells him everything. You’re genuinely enjoying this, lips parted as you continue to moan little by little. If Jisung wasn’t hard before, he definitely is now. Something about your moans is severely intoxicating, and being able to hear them, seeing how you look when you moan in person is just on another level that the computer screen doesn’t compare to. It simply doesn’t do you justice.
You’re quickly becoming very needy and impatient. Jisung can feel Haechan’s eyes biting into his skin, silently waiting for the right moment to open his mouth, so Jisung decides not to make any advances on his own in dread of setting your boyfriend off. You on the other hand need him to pick up the pace, so you make the advance for him, picking up him free hand by the wrist and sticking it down your shorts. “Touch me,” you beg him with your mouth and eyes, “Please.”
He looks at Haechan, but surprisingly he’s nodding, urging him on. So Jisung complies, fighting the pitter-patter of his heart against his chest as he rubs you through your panties. You’re wet, he knows that much. Really fucking wet. It turns him on to think that he’s the root of it all, the reason why you’re soaking your underwear, especially because he’s wanted to touch you there for so long. He wonders how long it’ll be before he gets to touch you directly, without some flimsy fabric in the way of all the good stuff.
Lust blinding the two of you results in things to escalate somewhat quickly. It started with Jisung rubbing you through your panties, then you begging him for skin on skin contact, and then a complete change of positions after he hungrily takes off your shorts, finger fucking you as you eventually asked with your back flat against the mattress.
“Pay attention to the angle,” Haechan advises. “You can’t just shove your fingers in her and hope for the best. And don’t let having longer fingers get to your head, it’s pointless if you don’t know how to use them. Same with your dick.”
“I know that,” Jisung hisses. “Just because I’m new to this doesn’t mean I’m dumb.”
“Just being careful, Ji. You’d be surprised how many people don’t know that. If you’re gonna fuck my girlfriend, I gotta at least make sure you’re doing it right,” you’re almost completely tuned out of the conversation, only picking up on bits of pieces as you’re too concentrated on the way Jisung’s fingers plunge in and out of you, coated in your arousal. “And pay attention to her body, it’ll tell you everything you need to know. See what makes her moan, squirm, beg—all that good stuff—and what doesn’t.”
If Haechan has you muffling screams when you fuck every other night, then Jisung’s sure he knows what he’s talking about, so he silently takes his advice. You seem to be enjoying this, and he wonders how he can take it further, how he can find out where you’re sensitive.
He decides to explore, not exactly letting his fingers run wild but experimenting here and there until he finds the spot. And when you cry out a little suddenly, he’s sure he’s found it. “Fuck,” you cry out in bliss, “Right there, Jisung, god.”
His fingers continue to hit you there, and he tries to burn the spot into his memory. It’s uncertain if he’ll ever get this opportunity again—and that’s when he realizes he should make sure this experience is as pleasurable as possible, just in case this is a once in a lifetime thing—but he wants to remember for safe measure.
For some reason, Jisung has the urge to look at Haechan again, so he does, and sees the man mouthing the words, Pull out.
Jisung is utterly confused. He mouths back, Why?
Just do it, Haechan says.
It takes Jisung a little. He’s reluctant. After all, one look at your face tells him that you’re all blissed out, and he thinks you’re pretty close. So why would he pull his fingers away? The point is to please you, isn’t it? Though not wanting to mess up, he hesitantly does as told.
“Jisung,” you whine when you’re suddenly empty, and Jisung hates it. He wants you to say his name in pleasure, in satisfaction, not like this.
“Haechan told me to!” He defends himself quickly.
“I did,” Haechan unabashedly confirms. “Don’t let her cum yet, making her wait is part of the fun and makes her want you more. Just get her wet enough so that you can fuck her good.”
“I did,” Haechan unabashedly confirms. “Don’t let her cum yet, making her wait is part of the fun and makes her want you more. Just get her wet enough so that you can fuck her good.”
Figuring that you’re wet enough, he turns to look at you. “Can I… can I fuck you?”
“Yes,” you’re literally about to beg, you’ve been waiting for this moment for what feels like an eternity, “please do, I can’t wait anymore. Need you so bad, Sungie.”
Jisung feels like he’s out of his mind. A part of him still refuses to believe that this is real, that this is actually happening. That instead of being mad at him for invading your privacy, you’re here begging for him to fuck you. He’s not sure what’s more surprising, the fact that you want to fuck him or the fact that Haechan is allowing this to happen, even telling him what to do to please you. You’re begging for him. You’re spreading your legs for him. You’re wet—all for him. It crosses his mind that maybe this isn’t a good idea, but with those three things considered, he can’t bring himself to care anymore. Haechan doesn’t care that he’s fucking his girlfriend, you don’t even care that he’s fucking you, so why should he?
Jisung drops his pants and lets his boxers hit the ground. There’s nothing holding him back anymore, not when he sees you gawking at him (unlike Haechan, he leans more to the lengthy side rather than girthy, though as long as he follows Haechan’s instructions you’re sure you’ll both be fine). It gives him a little ego boost.
“Condom?” He asks.
“You don’t have to use one,” you say, nearly making Jisung’s jaw drop, “just hurry up, please.”
What comes over him as he slides into you is beyond him, but the process is effortless and he just skates in. “Fuck,” he grunts, needing time for himself before he can even move. He’s barely moved an inch, but he can tell the real thing is a billion times better than his palm.
“Start slow,” Haechan says. “You’ve made her want it, but most importantly, you have to make her need it. Make her beg for you to pick up the pace, and then go faster. Not too fast, but not too slow, either.”
Jisung complies, drawing it out a little. With the way you feel around him it’s difficult to resist moving around freely, but then he remembers what he was thinking about making this as pleasure as possible for the two of you and decides it’s worth the wait. Something tells him to grip your waist so he does, his fingers dipping around your hips, and in return you let your hands fly to the empty space on his back.
You’re crying out in pleasure, need, yearning—all of the above. You probably should have expected Haechan to descend his teasing ways onto Jisung. He’s ever so slowly stretching you out, not pushing his whole size into you, but gently wedging it inside bit by bit at an agonizingly slow pace. It’s useful preparation, but once most of his length is sliding in and out of you so leisurely, your patience has ran significantly thin.
“Faster, Jisung. Please,” there’s tears pricking your eyes, and he hasn’t even really done anything yet, “want—no, I need you to fuck me so much.”
“How much?” He asks, catching everyone in the room, including himself, off-guard a little bit, but he doesn’t back down.
“It fucking hurts,” nothing but desperacy fills your tone when you whimper. Luckily enough you’re used to this tormenting treatment from your boyfriend, so you have a couple tricks up your sleeve. “Don’t you want it too, Sungie? You said it yourself that you think about this. Don’t you wanna make your dreams come true?”
Jisung grunts and caves in, allowing himself to move a little faster. He’s honestly tired of torturing you and himself.
“I’m almost impressed,” Haechan begins, nearly startling Jisung as his presence for once almost goes forgotten. It feels a little unnerving to Jisung that he’s been watching so closely, but he refuses to let that get in the way of fucking you. “Keep it up. Talk to her. Definitely not too much to point where’s it gets annoying, but not too little to the point where it’s awkward. Make observations, compliment her, ask her shit like you just did.”
Jisung simply nods in understanding, not bothering to drop some bitter reply. He’s too focused on you, on how you look, on how you feel, and he wonders if he’ll ever have the opportunity to see how you taste. He’s never ate anyone out before, but he thinks that your pussy is so pretty that there’s a first time for everything.
Meanwhile, you’re lost in the realm that is pleasure, savoring the way his dick inches in and out of you, filling you to the brim, slipping out, then pushing back inward. It’s hard to believe Jisung’s winging this—he has to have really been paying attention because he’s so fucking good at this, tip so far kissing all the right places. You like the way he holds your hips, so firm and secure like you’re precious and he’s afraid of shattering you (even though you wouldn’t mind if he did.)
From beside you your boyfriend is groaning, and that’s when you think to shift your gaze in his direction, realizing he’s finally stripped his lower body. His dick is in his palm, tall and erect, and you’re impressed that he’s gone this long without touching himself—or most surprisingly you. As much as Haechan likes to talk down on Jisung for being horny, he can’t blame him because he’s the exact same. Worse, even, especially for you.
“Touch her,” even in this state, Haechan still has pointers to offer, “Anywhere she’s sensitive for extra stimulation. Rub her clit—if you know where it is. Or what it is. Do you even know what that is, Jisung?”
“Yes, I know what it is, Haechan,” As if to prove his point, Jisung drops his hand down to your cunt. If you thought the way his fingers accidentally brushed against you was amazing, you were no where near prepared for the feeling of them toying with your clit. “Right here.”
“Oh, g-god, Jisung,” you stammer out, rocking your hips onto his hand. “More, please. I want more,” he’s quick to obey, applying pleasure to your clit while his fingers softly kiss your cunt in the same motion. “Just like that!”
Some moments pass, all actions consistent though Jisung isn’t sure how much longer he can keep this up. He’s having this fuzzy, trance-like feeling, where everything seems like nothing greater than his imagination. The only reason he knows he’s not dreaming is because of the way you feel around him. It’s like pinching himself, except this is pleasurable. Your bare walls are warm, tight, and wet as ever around him, and he knew from the moment he slid in you that he wouldn’t be able to put up much of a fight.
That video doesn’t compare to this. His fist doesn’t compare to this. He can’t describe it, not with one-hundred percent accuracy, because absolutely no other feeling in the world compares to this. You look so fucked out beneath him, bliss spelt out across your face, and he’s proud that he’s the reason why. He had always known that he could do this with a little help, that he was fully capable of satisfying you. He just never thought that he’d ever be given the chance.
“Shit, y/n. You’re so fucking beautiful,” he moans, the deepness of his voice driving you closer to the edge. You’ve always found it hot, but it’s more extreme with his dick inside you.
Close, I’m close,” you moan, feeling the tightening in your stomach, “are you gonna cum?”
“Shit, y-yeah. Gonna cum. Can I—”
Picking up on what he’s asking before he even has to chance to state it himself, you say, responding a little over-eagerly, “Yes, fuck, cum in me. Please don’t pull out.”
You’re seeing stars, you swear. Bright white twinkling ones that cloud your vision as you cum, digging your nails into Jisung’s back. It helps that he’s rubbing you in your most sensitive area, fucking you so perfectly, and that Haechan’s sweet moans are audible beside you. You aren’t sure who cums first between the three of you, but you do know his cum is leaking from your cunt after his hips stutter to a stop, and he can’t help but fill you with a load of white.
It takes you a long while to collect your breath. But afterwards your boyfriend swoops you into his arms, placing you in his care once the deed is done. “Last pointer,” he says, “always check up on the person you’re fucking. Good aftercare is extremely important after sex.”
“Are you okay?” Jisung asks, and you find it cute how his eyes look so filled with concern.
“Seriously never been better,” you manage to respond through heavy breaths. “Haechan, can you join us next time?”
Haechan looks repulsed by the idea. “Who said there was going to be a next time?” This saddens you considerably, and Jisung too, but he does a better job at concealing it. “You did good, Jisung. Hope you find your own person to use your new skills on. C’mon babe, let’s get you cleaned up.”
You follow your boyfriend into the bathroom, and Jisung sees himself out. At least he has new material to jack off to, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t feel you again. You’re just too good to give away, so he understands why Haechan is so determined to keep you to himself.
But fuck, you’re too sweet to let go of.
“Ever heard the phrase sex is a remedy?”
“No.”
“That’s because I just made it up,” Haechan grins, and you roll your eyes consequently.
It proves true in some circumstances, you’ll give him that. Prime example: Jisung. Ever since that day, things between you have cooled. He started sitting next to you during movie nights again, even going as far putting his head in your lap (much to Haechan’s annoyance), actually talks to you, and looks at you (maybe a little too much.)
Yet surprisingly, he doesn’t seem that bashful anymore. It isn’t like he’s ever been the type to shy away, though this is next-level. No more shy waves or meek hello’s. No more weak eye contact. No more hesitance in touching you, despite him potentially being able to piss your boyfriend off. He’s so relaxed, so calm and so certain of his actions, and you kind of like it. There’s a chance the sex got to his head a little, but perhaps it was a push in the right direction and plus, you find confidence very sexy.
But you push these thoughts away as fast as they come. Whatever you had with Jisung is done, it can’t happen again. You all had your fun, now it’s time to let it go.
You pout, “Why are you leaving me alone for so long? I’m gonna miss you.”
Haechan’s going out with some of the guys to handle what he titles manly affairs. If you didn’t know any better you’d say that probably translates to I’m going somewhere to play video games, but you saw Jeno in his gym shorts. They’re definitely about to go hit the gym.
“Relax, I’m going to be back in a couple of hours and you aren’t alone—Renjun and Jisung will still be here to keep you company. Speaking of which, Renjun said that if you keep treating this like a second home he’s gonna start making you split the rent with us,” your boyfriend snickers.
“I was joking!” Renjun shouts from the hall, coincidentally walking down at the same time you happen to be talking about him.
“I think Renjun should mind his own business,” you say, and he rolls his eyes prior to stepping inside the bathroom. “And why aren’t they going with the rest of you?”
“Won rock paper scissors,” Haechan mutters, “but back to what I was saying about sex being a remedy, I promise I’ll make you cum at least three times when I get back.”
“Why three?”
“Because I don’t think you can handle four,” your boyfriend kisses you on the lips for a second so short it feels unreal, and you’re torn between focusing on that or informing him that he sounds like that one Reese’s commercial, “but I gotta go. See you later, babe, love you!”
“I love you more!”
“No, I love you mo—wait. I see what you’re trying to do and it’s not going to work,” he catches on, earning a gloomy frown from you. At least you tried. “Now goodbye, I love you most!”
“No, I—” before you can even chuck out half your sentence, the door is rudely shut in your face.
You huff. He cheated.
Alas, you’re left alone. Flopping down onto the couch, you consider that Renjun’s probably right about you overstaying your welcome, though it isn’t like you’re here all day every day. Two days a week at most. You have your own lovely apartment free of men that fight over video games and superior pizza toppings. Speaking of men, you’re tempted to go annoy Renjun in order to pass the time, but then Jisung creeps from the shadows of his room and you’re suddenly no longer interested in the former.
“Sungie!”
You don’t seem to notice the look on his face when you call him that, and even if you did, you wouldn’t have been able to make out what it meant. It’s fleeting, gone before it’s ever really there. Jisung covers it up with a smile, though can’t help but feel the nickname has an entirely different feeling. It used to be cute—innocent and sweet. But then he heard you begging for him and that changed his perception of the word forever.
He figures that he should probably let it go, though. It happened almost a week ago, the sex. It was fun, he knows that. All parties enjoyed it, he knows that too, but he also knows that Haechan would never let it happen again. Hell, he’s still surprised that he let it happen a first time.
“Y/n,” he smiles cheerily, joining you on the couch. You sit upright to make room for him. “you’re here while Haechan’s not?”
“Oh, yeah. All my clothes that I have here are dirty so I’m waiting for them to finish washing and drying,” you explain, Jisung listening and nodding understandingly, “I also don’t feel like driving.”
Jisung laughs, “I can’t drive so I’d be zero help with that, but I can help with your laundry. Do you need any assistance?”
“I’m good,” you shake your head. “Thanks, though.”
Jisung nods. “Cool.”
“Cool.”
You both know shit is anything but cool. And if you’re being completely honest, the silence that fills the room is a tad bit awkward. You’re sure you’re both thinking the same thing, though neither of you want to say it. However, there’s a major difference between a want and a need.
“We need to address the elephant in the room,” he initiates.
You sigh—in relief or not, Jisung can’t tell. “So I’m not the only one who realized.”
So, maybe your analogy was slightly wrong. Maybe sex wasn’t a perfect remedy for your Jisung situation. Or maybe Haechan’s made-up saying needs some clarification: sex is a temporary remedy, that eventually subsides into a plethora of other problems.
False advertisement.
“Yeah,” Jisung chews at his lip, “it’s been gnawing at me for a while. I mean, I get that it was supposed to be a one-time thing, but I can’t be the only one that’s having trouble forgetting.”
He isn’t, much to your misfortune, and it’s been gnawing at you. It’s even worse since Haechan hasn’t acknowledged that day since it happened, and you don’t have it in you to bring it up this time. You know he’s down to try lots of things, though at some point there’s a line you know better than to cross.
Yet the lingering memory is still tattooed onto your brain, and you can’t simply forget how wonderful it felt for Jisung to touch you; how good and deep he felt inside you; how perfectly his fingers felt on your clit; how blissful you felt when you came in his embrace. It doesn’t help that Jisung is impossibly attractive, and you can’t help but want to do things to him, or let him do things to you—you couldn’t care less.
“No, me too,” this time it’s you struggling to hold eye contact, opting to look down, “but Haechan already has, and is it really worth going behind his back?”
Jisung pokes his cheek. “I know. We don’t have to act on it, I just wanted to get it off my chest.”
“Okay.” You look up at him again. He’s still looking at you, unfaltering. “Wanna watch a movie with me?”
He nods a little. “Yeah. Sure.”
Fetching the remote, you open Netflix under Chenle’s account (poor him. The cons of sucking at GamePigeon 8ball.) and select a movie. It’s nothing spectacular, but holds your attention fairly well for a while. Nothing new seemingly happens with Jisung—he’s not on your lap, though still touchy, replacing his head with his hand as he lies his head on your shoulder. It shouldn’t bother you but it does, goosebumps breaking out on your skin. As if things couldn’t get any worse, your body refuses to listen to your brain, allowing itself to look at his hands as your brain shouts at it not to. With the sight of his fingers planted firmly into your brain, showering little seeds, it’s impossible to forget those six days ago. Even if you try and push the memory away, it’s helpless. Your body remembers, and doesn’t want to forget.
His slender fingers plunging inside you is all you can think about. You shut your eyes, yet the image burns into your eyelids. You open them again, yet it’s still there, fueled more by sight of his fingers close to you. It doesn’t help that they’re dangerously close to the inside of your thighs, the proximity making you sweat.
“Are we gonna pretend you don’t want me to finger you right now?”
His voice startles you. Jisung knows you think he hasn’t caught you, but he does—he did. It’s impossible to ignore the burn of your stare.
Fuck, when did he get so bold? “Jisung,” you whine, already sensing this is going to head in a direction you simultaneously do and don’t wish for it to.
“I want to do the right thing, I really do, but it isn’t easy knowing you want me, I want you, and we’re not doing anything about it,” he’s slowly rubbing circles onto your thigh, which is significantly bare since you’re in un-lengthy Dolphin shorts, “can’t we do it one more time? Fuck it out?”
“You and I both know that if we do it again this won’t be the last time,” you say.
He doesn’t look half-bothered by the idea. “That’s not something we have to worry about right now though, right?”
Fuck.
You know better than to give in like this, but it’s much too late the moment he sneaks you inside his room and lies you flat on his bed. You also know that you could stop at any time you wish, but as terrible as it sounds, you don’t want to stop. It’s basically been said that you’ll deal with the consequences later, letting impulsivity win.
“Can I taste you?” His voices sounds so hot when he says this. You can’t help but nod, allowing himself to have his way with you.
Jisung tugs down your shorts in fervor, your panties following suit and meeting one another in a growing pile on the floor. He’s seen it before, though he can’t help but gawk at the sight your cunt, dripping with arousal and he’s hardly even touched you. You’re so pretty to him that he can’t help but run a finger through your folds, spurred on further when you gasp aloud.
“Never done this before,” he says, yet he sounds ready as ever, “so tell me what to do.”
Impatiently, you nod. “Just go with the flow and I’ll help you from there.”
Your eager motion and the way you buck your hips up is more than enough to signal to Jisung that you’re ready. He takes it as you giving him the green light to begin, tongue experimentally prodding against your folds. It’s like all his hesitance dissipates the moment he gets a hold of you, as though the mere taste of you has put a spell on him that he can’t wake up from. He isn’t sure what comes over him in this moment, though he knows that he wants to savor it—the taste, the feeling, the craving. A single taste of you is enough to fill him with greed and then he’s eating you out like he just can’t get enough of you, as though there’s a burning fervor coursing through his veins that can’t be ceased.
“Sungie,” you cry. It’s been a couple of days since you’ve been given head and you’d consider that a while, so the relief is extra phenomenal. You’re sure that even if it had been yesterday, you’d be just as weak to his touch.
Then, so torturously, he pulls away. Before you can complain, Jisung shushes you. “I’m sorry, but you have to be quiet. Renjun’s here.”
Your eyes widen slightly. You had honestly completely forgotten about the other, though fortunately, this isn’t your first rodeo. If there’s anything sneaking around in the middle of the night with Haechan has taught you, it’s how to be quiet. The only reason Jisung’s overheard you is because his room happens to be directly next to the one that your boyfriend owns.
“I can be quiet,” you murmur.
Jisung scoffs. “Sure, you can.”
Affronted, you’re inclined to protest, until Jisung’s lips meet your pussy again and you’re silenced, digging your teeth into your bottom lip to muffle any potential sounds you might make. He picks up again, listening with super-sense to the quiet moans you utter as you’re unable to hold all of the volume in. It helps him apply his knowledge, playing close mind to what garners pleased reactions from you and your body.
His tongue skirts around, and he gets the wonderful idea to target your clit. The moment the muscle swirls it’s way there, you know that staying quiet is gonna be more difficult than you thought. Your lips nearly shudder shut and he pushes them open, his grip firm as he spreads you apart ever so gently.
“G-good, feels so good,” you moan softly, careful to lower your volume, “you’re doing so well.”
Jisung’s tongue is anything but gentle, however. Spurred on, he darts his tongue like it knows magical spells of it’s own, putting one on you that you fall deeper into with every stroke. The pressure feels amazing, and you can practically feel your heartbeat between your thighs. It’s honestly admirable how quick of a learner he is, paying full attention to how your body responds to his touch and solely acting on that. No previous experiences, just you and his intuition.
You really don’t have to tell him what to do. If there’s any question, you naturally give him the perfect answer. When you moan, when you whimper, when you beg. When your thighs quiver and your hips buck up in greed, it’s all a telltale signal of arousal, perfect sign of pleasure. In the moment, your fingers reach for his hair, threading through his locks and drawing him closer to you desperately. You want to feel this to the maximum, until you quite literally are numb.
It’s a miracle that you’re far from numb right now though, feeling every lap. He’s making you feel so good and it’s so hard to stay silent to the point where you’re contemplating stuffing your fist in your mouth. If Jisung was extra nosy, he would have seen another video of you and Haechan on his MacBook, a video of Haechan eating you out while everyone else was seemingly asleep. You wonder if Jisung was listening in that night, if he heard your muffled sounds after Haechan stuffed your mouth with your panties. Gosh, you aren’t sure why the thought of him hearing you in such lewd ways still arouses you. You just know that you want him to have you, you want to pry into his mind and carry out every fantasy he’s ever imagined as he got off to the sound of you.
If this was amazing, you don’t think that there’s an accurate word in the dictionary to describe the feeling of what Jisung does next. He presses his tongue inside you, his hand replacing his mouth as he simultaneously plays with your clit. Your whole body feels hot now, like piece by piece, you’re being consumed by fire.
Between watching you struggle to conceal your moans, and the way your face scrunched in pleasure as you do, he doesn’t know what’s hotter. He could do this forever if it meant seeing you break on his tongue like this. Hastily your resolve is cracking, and he knows he could have you wrapped around his finger. In fact, he thinks he probably already does. It may be wrong, though it’s only fair since you’ve had him wrapped around yours since the moment he met you.
Then he notices something—your moans are getting louder, your thighs are quaking more, and overall you look so much more blissed out. That could mean only one thing: you’re close. He knows he doesn’t have to, but he pulls away.
“Jisung!” if it wasn’t for the fact that Renjun was home, you think that you’d probably scream your lungs off. You’re also beginning to think that Haechan influencing Jisung was a bad decision. “You know that you don’t have to edge me, right? Like, even if I cum from foreplay, you can make me cum again.”
“I know,” he smiles, licking your juices off his mouth, “but I wanted to.”
Scratch that. It was a horrible decision. Now, Jisung’s equally as much of a sadistic piece of shit as Haechan.
Before you can whine, he says, “But I’ll make it up to you, if you let me,” he starts palming you with his hand, earning these little moans from you. Then he looks at you, with that pretty gleam in his eye that makes you want to fuck the shit out of him. “Will you let me?”
Ultimately, you let him. It didn’t take much for you to cave in—he had already given you head, aroused you yet refused to let you cum, so now you’re desperate for an orgasm. Plus, this has already gone too far. It might’ve not done any wrong to stop things from going any further, yet it isn’t like it would do any good, either. You’re in too deep, once you’ve started you can’t stop.
Jisung undresses you, showing you that he remembers how to unclasp a bra, and then he undresses himself. The sight of your naked body isn’t foreign to him anymore, yet he’ll still continue to marvel as though it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. Fuck that—it is the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.
“I wanna ride you,” you say, snapping him out of his daze.
He blinks dumbly. “Huh?”
Gently, you push him onto his back. “I wanna ride you,” his eyes are on you, watching you with a lustful shadow dimming his eyes. “Are you gonna let me?”
“You can do whatever you want with me,” he tells you, gaze never once leaving yours.
Fuck, he’s so damn hot.
You straddle him, and once your knees are on either side of him you sink onto his dick, a sound of relief being drawn from both of you. Instantly you feel so full, yet that doesn’t stop the need built up inside you from yelling for a release. You allow yourself to adjust all over again before you start really moving, grinding onto him.
The stretch almost makes it feel like you’ve never been here before but you take it, fingers clutching his shoulders for leverage as his arms anchor around your waist, keeping you in close proximity. You’ve allowed him to go in bare again so the feeling is as raw as it was the first time around, yet Jisung still doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to this. How your walls tighten around his dick, how the wet squelch of your cunt sounds when he enters you. It’s fucking mesmerizing—you’re fucking mesmerizing, and he’s happy to have you all to himself even if it’s for a moment.
“How does it feel, Sungie?” You ask, already having your answer when you look at his face.
The same way Jisung can see through you, he’s like glass to you, a mirror even. He’s beautiful beneath you, face scrunched up in pleasure, and the tightening grip on your waist is a crystal clear sign that he’s enjoying this. It’s entertaining hearing him trying not to moan, his sounds muffled as deep little grunts that you’re sure he’s oblivious of how fucking sexy they are. In contrast you can’t stop thinking about what lives rent-free in your mind, wishing you could be louder so that you’d hear the full extent of his beautiful sounds.
“You’re so fuckin’ tight,” he growls, surprising yet pleasing you. If he keeps up the sexy noises, you’re going to cum hard.
You smile, “All for you.”
In this particular moment, it is all for him, and that’s enough for him. He likes that he’s able to get you wet, he likes that he turns you on, he likes that you want him, he likes that he has so much control and influence over your body. And you like when he treats you like you’re his.
Jisung also enjoys watching you fuck yourself on him, ever so desperately chasing your orgasm. He hates denying you it, but that unfortunately doesn’t make Haechan any less right. It is a part of the fun because it makes you needier, and there’s nothing he loves more than seeing you all delicate and fragile, so greedy for his touch. And in your determination to cum, you’re using his shoulders to hold yourself together as your pussy swallows his dick. He knows it’s going to be a sight when you actually do cum, to see you fall apart on top of him as you finally reach your climax.
His gaze lingering on your body, Jisung suddenly feels the urge to touch you. You’re so beautiful all over, it’s only right that he appreciates every aspect of your body equally. Slowly, he drags his hands up from your waist to your breast, fundling with your breast. His fingers graze over your nipples and when you gasp, he can’t contain his smile. You’re so sensitive there, it’s so fun to mess with you simply to see you react.
“Your body’s so beautiful,” he’s really just thinking aloud at this point, but you enjoy the compliment, especially as you notice the in-awe gleam in his eyes. He looks like he’s seen you pluck a star from the sky, or summon the moon with your palm.
That’s when he gets an idea. One he’s always daydreamed about, yet never thought to ask you until now, when he’s thinking of all the ways to show your body love. “Is it okay if I kiss you? Not on the lips, but your skin.”
He thinks it sounds weird to ask, but you’re delighted by the question. “Y-yeah,” you answer mid-moan, and you can feel his dick twitching inside you, “just don’t bite or suck or do anything that’ll leave a trail and make marks.”
He hadn’t even thought about marking you, though now that you mention it, he really wishes he had the chance. He’s ignored the faint ones that linger on your body from your boyfriend, fading blotches of color. Instead, he does what he can, delivering little kisses to your skin. It starts from the valley of your breast, and slowly yet steadily falls down.
Jisung notices your breath getting shallower when you kiss him. When he passes by your breast, he makes sure to flick at your nipples with his tongue, driving an unsuspecting mewl from you. His kisses leave a hot sensation all over your body, like some kind of Midas Touch where everything he touches feel like fire. It’s a kind of fire you don’t want to be put out, that you want to let it’s flames eat at you and burn you. That’s exactly what Jisung’s touch does, and it’s driving you crazy. You don’t know how long you can keep this up before you have to let go.
You’re fucking yourself onto him at a steady rhythm, biting your lip profusely as you rock yourself against him, finding the spot that drives you to insanity. You look so fucked out but Jisung’s not any better, struggling just as much as you are to keep your sounds in. He’s so vocal, and you’d appreciate it more if it weren’t for Renjun being only some yards away.
You think of the perfect way to shush him, leaning in to crash your lips against his. With your eyes shut, you miss the way his go wide, yet he lets your mouth guide him and sinks his hands back around your waist. After all, he did say that you could do whatever you wanted with him.
Once you’ve confirmed he’s not backing away, you shift your hands from his shoulders to his hair, carding your fingers through there and drawing him closer this way. A particular movement causes him to moan in your mouth, and by then you feel beyond ecstatic. You feel high off of the pleasure, senses heightened and everything around you seems to slow. It’s a beautiful moment, filled with heavy breath and low moans, and you wonder if he feels the same.
Jisung pulls away, panting, “I’m not going to last.”
You guess that gives you your answer, because you’re so in sync, your body’s mirroring one another.
“Me neither. Fill me up, Sungie. Please.”
You’re clenching around him repeatedly, and he’s sure that’s what triggers his orgasm. That’s when Jisung meets his breaking point, biting his lip as his cum shoots inside you, yet you’re still close enough to hear the deep sound of his perfect groans. He recalls thinking that having you like this one tike would be enough for him to move on from you, but he’s onto his second and it’s already been somewhat established that there’s plenty more where this comes from. You just feel too good, more than he could have ever imagined.
The way you draw his name when you cum, clutching onto him so tightly as you work your way through his orgasm before leaning against his shoulders, it’s enough to spur him on once more. He’s realizing that he could seriously do this forever—you’re that addicting.
“Are you okay?” He asks through heavy breathing, holding you to his chest.
“I’m good,” you sigh, satisfied. “Thighs are kinda sore, but I’m good. What about you?”
Jisung rubs your thighs gently, but replies honestly, “I want to go again.”
You’re honestly astonished. You already knew that this wouldn’t be the last time, however you also didn’t expect the third to be so soon. You’ve hardly relaxed from this round, and the ache in your thighs is screaming at you to slow it down.
“My thighs ache, Jisung,” you laugh.
He pushes you onto your back, moving his head between your legs again and kissing softly at your thighs. “I’ll take care of you,” he whispers between kisses. “If you let me,” he gazes up at you, meeting your eyes. “Will you let me?”
In that moment, you feel purely hypnotized by him. Something tells you that this is a bad idea and that it’s getting out of hand, but it’s been that way since the moment this begun. You know it sounds corny, but though it’s wrong, you can’t stop this from feeling so fucking right.
And in that same moment, you realize that you’ll also let him do whatever he wants with you.
Sneaking around with Jisung becomes routine.
It’s like you two just can’t get enough of each other, drawn to the other’s body as though there’s some magnetic force between you, as though he’s a moth and you’re his flame.
When everyone’s back is turned, you find time to one another. Sometimes when the guys go away. Sometimes when they’re all asleep. Sometimes you even invite him over to the solace of your home, with no roommates, no one like you who uses the WiFi and the Netflix without paying even a quarter of a bill. Him and you. No more, no less.
Times such as now. Times when he has you backed against your front door as soon as he steps inside your apartment, out of sheer desperation. It isn’t always like this, sometimes you take turns taking control. Sometimes you fight for it until the other submits. Sometimes you’re so desperate for each other that neither of you can even think to care about control, just submitting to the desire in your bodies.
“Missed you, too,” you take his eager actions as a non-verbal way of saying I missed you. You gasp when he doesn’t respond, just pressing his lips to your skin. He doesn’t suck or bite, God knows he wants to though he knows better, but shows love to your body as he slides your shirt off.
It’s been longer than it usually is since the last time you’ve seen him, so he has every right to behave like a touch-starved virgin again. “God, I really fucking missed you,” he grumbles in your ear, cupping your chest. You bet he does. The reason you haven’t met up until now is because you two haven’t had the opportunity. It’s either the guy’s have been around more often, you’re prioritizing Haechan, or one of you are too busy and burdened with work to find time.
Speaking of your boyfriend, you don’t think he’s entirely clueless.
It isn’t like either of you are stupid enough to downright stick a hand down the other’s pants, however you’re still too touchy. Your fingers soothe through Jisung’s hair as his head lies in your lap, or his hand rests near the danger-zone of your thigh.
Haechan hasn’t brought this up, though you still feel the sting of his stare and it burns mightily. As a solution, you’ve come to the agreement to keep the contact to a minimum as long as he’s around, and use your place more often so that you aren’t starving each other of touch completely. It’s a solid plan. Haechan visits your place occasionally though not nearly as much as you visit the dorms, so you figure you two should be safe.
“Do you?” Jisung nods, not missing a beat and staring you down with the most hungry eyes. “Then show me, Sungie. Prove it.”
That’s all it takes for him to lead you to the couch and fuck you until you can’t even think — however if you could, you’d think that you honestly can’t handle it anymore.
There’s been times where you’ve almost been caught. Most recently, during the middle of the night the last time you stayed the night at the dorms. You decided to meet Jisung in his room for a quickie, slithering out of your boyfriend’s grasp and tiptoeing down the halls, thanking god that Haechan’s a heavy sleeper.
The minute you hooked your hand on his doorknob, you were given the scare of your life by no other than Huang Renjun (you swear, he’s always in the hallway at the most inconvenient of times ever.)
“What are you doing?”
You jumped. High as a Kangaroo. Turning to see who had caught you, you nearly let out a relieved breath when you realized it wasn’t Haechan. Then you realized it was Renjun, and all the panic in you resurfaced like clockwork.
Luckily, your lying skills are nothing short of impeccable because you follow one simple rule: don’t lie more than you have to.
“Going into Jisung’s room,” you answer honestly.
Renjun quirked his eyebrow. “In the middle of the night? Isn’t he asleep?”
“Oh, you know how he is. Afraid of everything under the sun, and he texted me that he had a bad nightmare so I volunteered to be his human teddy bear until he falls asleep.”
“Typical,” Renjun snorted, but he looked more convinced than you thought he would. “Good night, then. And tell him I said to grow up.”
Putting forward your best, oscar-worthy laugh, you told him goodnight back as he slipped away to his room, and you finally entered Jisung’s, shutting the door behind you and trying desperately hard not to laugh as you saw his face.
He frowned, “Scared of everything under the sun? Human teddy bear? Seriously?”
“You should be grateful that my oscar-worthy performance kept us from being found out,” you replied as you walked to his bed. It wasn’t unrealistic, Jisung doesn’t have nightmares as much as he used to anymore, though he’s certainly a scaredy-cat. You have no idea how he found the balls to sneak around with you. “Actually, I think I deserve a reward.”
Jisung pulled your shorts down your ankles, “You think so?”
“I do,” you smiled.
“Then,” Jisung paused to kiss you, addicted to the feeling of your lips ever since you first pressed them against his. It was a craving he didn’t even know he had until you gave him a taste. “Let me reward you.”
“This isn’t gonna be a quickie, is it?”
“Bet me,” he said, a little smirk on his lips that he slightly tried to hide. “How fast you think I can make you cum.”
He’s insane. That’s the conclusion you’d drawn from every moment you’ve spent naked beside him. You can’t deny it though, you like it, even if it’s a little dangerous and very unwise.
You furrowed your brows, “Bet? Like, money? Or orgasms?”
An even better currency in mind, Jisung shook his head. “Rounds.”
You knew what that meant. Jisung wanted you to himself. He was never satisfied with only one round — even if it meant overstimulating himself, he was desperate to have you until neither of you could continue, sore and exhausted from the work.
“Fine,” you agreed. “Six minutes. If you can’t, you get one round. If you can, then gosh, you deserve as many rounds as you want.”
To be honest, you never pay much attention to how fast he makes you cum, too caught up in the moment to even consider the amount of time you’d spent in that way, skin on skin, body to body. So the only person you’re sure has made you cum in six minutes or less is Haechan, because you explicitly remember him setting a timer to prove himself to you.
In spite of all that, Jisung looked confident. He passed you his iPhone and shifted to your bottom half, pushing your thighs open. “I’m ready when you are.”
Nodding, you set the clock.
Long story short, Jisung had as much fun as he wanted with you that night.
You’ve also been setting precautions. If it’s too risky for you to see each other in person, then you settle for exchanging nudes and things alike.
The first time it happened, you hadn’t actually intended for it to. It was more of a joke, you were texting each other and you playfully suggested that Jisung should send you a video of his own as reparations for his snooping. When he didn’t respond for a while you had your suspensions, but you didn’t think he’d actually hit you back with a video of himself, stroking his dick and moaning your name with a tremble in his voice.
In that moment you were given an idea of what it was like when he got off to your moans in another room, how he sounded and not so much how he looked since the focus was never really on his face, but you’ve seen his blissed-out expressions enough to come up with it on your own. It turned you on, enough to make you send back a video of your own, and from that day on it became a bad habit of yours to exchange explicit images and videos whenever you were separated.
It’s so late at night yet so early in the morning when the text hits your phone, I need you.
He caught you at a good time. Feeling hot and bothered yourself, you were honestly about to fetch your vibrator from it’s hiding spot in your closet because you knew your boyfriend had fallen asleep and assumed that Jisung had as well, at least until he texted you.
How bad is it? You send back, instead choosing to lie back on your bed, resting on your stomach as you wait for the typing bubble to transform into some type of message.
This bad. The attachment makes you bite your lip after he sends it. Sometimes when Jisung sends nudes of himself he isn’t very nude, he likes to send dick prints to tease you because he knows you want the full image. Though this time, his pants and boxers are discarded, he has his hand curled around the base of his erect dick, and you can tell at once that he’s much too desperate to be in the position to tease you. In fact, he’s probably hoping you’ll be generous to him.
He’s needy as hell right now, you can feel it. And how cruel would it be of you to not help him?
You grab your vibrator and prop your phone on your pillow, positioning it so that it’d film you perfectly. It’s late, and you have work tomorrow so you don’t have that much time to sext with Jisung, so you instead decide to send him a video you know will last him for now. You press record, and wiggle yourself out of your panties exaggeratedly, knowing he’ll love the gesture. He always does. Then you spread your thighs apart, enough so that he’d easily be able to see how wet you are. For a while you tease yourself with your fingers, allowing little moans to fall from your lips before you desperately reach for your vibrator.
The feeling of it against you almost makes you forget that there’s a camera watching you, and that this is supposed to be for Jisung more than it is for you. You’re not worried, however. The thought of him has successfully infiltrated your mind, and you can’t help but moan his name louder than your ears can register. With your eyes firmly shut, you’re imagining it’s him between your thighs—his dick, his mouth, anything. In this moment you, don’t care. You can’t care.
“J-jisung,” you whimper when you’re close, not once, not twice, but several times in a chant-like manner. You can only imagine how much he’ll love that, and if he wasn’t hard already, it would’ve certainly did the trick.
It feels explosive when you cum—literally. That’s when you come to the realization that you’ve squirted, and you find it a nice touch to end the video with. You send the message Good night to Jisung, making sure to attach the video before preparing for bed.
The next day when you find some free time, Jisung calls you briefly and asks you to come over, informing you that the guy’s are away and won’t be back for some hours.
Of course you’d never miss the opportunity to see him, and you were there in record-time, wearing a cute skirt you know he likes. Time is blur when he opens the door for you, and you hardly remember what happened in the time between you walking inside and him sitting you atop the kitchen counter.
He slithers his hand up your skirt, making you sigh in pleasure when he rubs you through your panties.
“Missed this so much,” Jisung murmurs, acting as though he hasn’t seen you in days. You didn’t think it was possible, but somehow you’ve turned him from a virgin to a sex addict. He’s seriously a fiend for you, but you don’t mind it.
You snort. “You always miss me.”
“Yeah, well,” you can sense the disappointment in his voice, but you don’t know where it’s coming from, “I miss you more now because you kinda left me hanging last night.”
Is he talking about you not sexting him? There’s no way, you sent him a whole video. He isn’t entirely insatiable. “What do you mean? I sent you a video?”
“No, you didn’t,” when Jisung fills you stiffen in his grasp, he stops and steps back. The realization creeps up on him as quickly as it does you.
Your voice at a whisper, you quietly muse, “Then who did I send it to?”
“Me.”
You think you’re going to be sick. You don’t even have to turn your head, you can tell it’s Haechan from the sound of his voice. Still you do, your heart hammering against your chest as you look him the eyes. He’s standing by the door and you have no idea how long he’s been there, but you know it’s definitely been too long.
“Hyung,” Jisung looks equally horrified, “I thought you left.”
That’s right. Jisung did tell you everyone had left, and it surely seemed like they had. No cars outside, the apartment was quiet, and void of all life save for you and him. You had made a mistake, and fuck, so did he.
“I was asleep,” Haechan shrugs discardingly, too nonchalant to be relaxing. “Having fun here, aren’t we?”
You start, “Haechan, I—”
“Can explain? I don’t want to fucking hear it,” he’s upset, and it’s finally seeping through his calm demeanor. “When I saw that video I’m thinking I’m waking up to a sweet morning surprise from my girlfriend, ya’know, and then I hear you moaning my best friend’s fucking name,” his gaze pans to Jisung, who then practically cowers.
Fear has consumed half your body, though lust consumed the other half. You can’t help but bite your lip at the way your boyfriend looks when he’s mad, pushing your thighs together — and it doesn’t go unnoticed by him.
“You’re fucking turned on by this, aren’t now?” He’s doing that laugh, the one that’s more out of anger than genuine amusement. It doesn’t help you at all, because damn does he sound hot doing it. “You know what? Come on. You too, Jisung.”
Haechan hooks his arms around you and forces you down the hallway before you can even think to move. You know being thrown around by him shouldn’t turn you on and especially not right now, but you can’t help the way that the aggression combined with his angry attitude has you sopping.
Jisung trails behind, feeling as though he doesn’t have much of a choice. You can tell he’s scared shitless, but you on the other hand are somewhat thrilled to see where this’ll go.
You’re practically thrown onto the bed when Haechan takes you into his room, slamming your back onto his sheets without much care. “I’m going to play with you until I’m satisfied,” he announces, not leaving room for options. “And Jisung, you’re going to watch.”
Jisung’s Adam’s apple bobs. “Watch?”
“Yes, watch. You’ve been fucking my girlfriend right under my nose and think that I’m going to let you off easy?”
Neither of you are going to be let off easy, and that’s the scariest part about it.
He doesn’t say anything from then on, only dragging down your articles of clothing or pulling them above your head at paces nothing less than excruciatingly slow. You begin to feel bare and uncovered underneath him, as though nothing could escape him and as though he can see through you more than you could him in the moment. The inscrutable expression on his face as he strips you naked makes you feel like everything you’ve hid is being stolen from confines, open and on display for him. He can see so much of you, but you can’t tell what’s running through his mind as he touches you almost everywhere but where you need him to.
The little relief he’s permitting you as he hauls his fingers around your skin isn’t enough and you at least know that he’s aware of that, deliberately fighting shy of the space between your thighs. You try and squirm, to show any possible hint of you needing more, but Haechan moves his hands to hold your hips steady. “You’re only making this worse for yourself if you keep moving,” his grip tightens until you give up and lie still, realizing that cumming is probably going to cost you more than you initially thought. “I’m in control here. Not you, not him, me. If you want to cum, then you’ll have to play by my fucking rules.”
You lift your gaze to Jisung, finding him staring back at you. The look on his face appears as unsure as it had the second you were caught, but the bulge in his pants betrays any lack of will present in him. If he could, you know that he’d be running his hands all over your body too, and you realize that that’s probably what’s going on inside his head.
You look away. “I’m sorry.”
The way Haechan snorts, you can tell he doesn’t believe you. He knows you’re only sorry because you want relief, and know the more you disobey him, the longer you’ll wait for it. “If you’re truly sorry, you’ll take what I give you like a good girl.”
The thud of your heart against your chest is loud, yelling at you when you feel him finally spread your thighs apart. You wonder if he can hear it too, the hunger and desperation in you calling for him in one steady rhythm. He moves like he’s willing to satisfy your greed, although not all at once, taking his precious time with you as he presses delicate kisses and rubs patterns onto the insides of your thighs. You whimper, but the dark, shadow-y look in his eyes as he gazes up at you shuts you up instantly.
“C-can I touch her?” Jisung asks tentatively.
Haechan doesn’t look back, doesn’t even think about it as he replies, “Not yet. You can touch her when I say you can.”
He’s dipping his head onto you again, not to say he ever really left. You moan a little when he licks at you, fighting the urge to buck your hips onto his mouth in reluctance to anger him further. You don’t know what the consequence would be if you did, and you’re fine without knowing. Still, the pace he sets is agonizing and it takes everything in you not to let temptation prevail. You know you did a bad thing. You also know that bad behavior doesn’t get rewarded, but you can’t help but feel a little selfish, wishing he’d give you a little more instead of teasing you beyond imaginable.
Eventually, the little licks do become more, gradually developing from gentleness to Haechan lapping at you with the eager movements of his tongue weakening you as he becomes unable to resist his own temptations. As you grip his hair forget there’s even anyone else in the room with you, weak in a way you had never allowed yourself to become for Jisung. This type of fragility is what he hears at night and what he saw in the video, but what he’d never be capable of having. You’ve been desperate for him too, but Haechan’s broken you beyond desperation. He’s teased you until your cunt physically aches, then filled you with pleasure that gives you whiplash.
“Hyuck, Hyuck,” your knees feel weak, and you can’t even think. All you know is that this feels good, and you fucking need him.
“You wanna cum, angel?” He coos, only moving away from your cunt for a second before he’s latching onto you again.
“Yes, yes, yes,” you chant. “Please.”
Your stomach feels like a rollercoaster, your gut flipping, turning, twisting, spinning—and everything in between. You can feel your orgasm approaching and you know that Haechan can too, with your body quivering in his grasp, your sounds increasing in frequency and volume, and your clutch on his locks tightening without you being capable of noticing.
In short, your stomach feels like an insane rollercoaster, your gut flipping, turning, twisting, spinning—and everything in between. You can feel your orgasm approaching you quickly and you’re sure that Haechan can too, especially from how your body quivers in his grasp, your sounds increase in frequency and volume, and your grip on his locks tightens without you being capable of noticing. It’s almost as though your body is physically here, yet you’ve elevated off in heaven somewhere. But when he pulls away just before that invisible string in you can snap, you feel shoved back into torturous reality.
“No!” You whine.
“You really think you deserve to cum?” The way he looks at you feels so degrading that you can’t resist shaking a little underneath him as he hovers above you, “I’m going to edge you until you understand that this pussy is mine.”
“No, no, no,” you whimper, “please let me cum, Hyuck. I’ll be good, I promise.”
Haechan scoffs. “Don’t you think it’s a little too late for that? You weren’t worried about being good when you decided to be a slut for Jisung.”
The mention of Jisung gives you the rough reminder than he’s still in the room again, watching closely how pathetically you unravel before your boyfriend. You can tell that he wants to do something but he’s mentally debating it, and he shies up every time you shift your gaze over to him again. He’s more nervous now that he’s been directly mentioned, unsure of what to do and how to react in a scenario like this. He knows he shouldn’t touch you, but should he be ashamed if he were to touch himself? Should he feel guilty about the things he’s done with you when your boyfriend’s back was turned?
“I, I didn’t—”
“You didn’t what, babe?” He crooks his head. “Go ahead and tell me another lie.”
It’s almost embarrassing how easily Haechan makes you feel like such a pathetic mess. You can’t even find the words to say in response to that, and he’s simply amused by how quiet you’ve gone. It was never like you expected him to placate you after finding out about everything you did behind his back, but you didn’t think it would hurt to try, hoping he would show you some type of mercy and be even a little lenient. You know that he didn’t deserve for this to happen to him and that you don’t deserve even a sliver of his mercy, but you had hoped that maybe he would still find it in him to grace you with it anyway.
When Haechan moved his lips from between your thighs, soaring up your body and re-starting his teasing journey at your neck as he peppers the skin with gentle kisses that you know only temporarily betray his attitude, you had then accepted that nothing comes without a cost, and that this was your price to pay. He played fake soft with you, treating you like you had a fragile label warning printed across you in spite of being completely aware that you wanted more, that you needed more and would never be satisfied with what little he was giving you. That was what made it more fun for him though, because it seemed like no matter what amount of pleasure he was generous enough to give you, you would take it for granted and not value it enough.
Then Haechan’s movements get fiercer as he continues to follow this torturous pattern of gradually fulfilling your desires, kissing developing into biting and sucking at your flesh in ways that make you gasp out in response, and ways he knows will leave marks on your skin. He was satisfied that Jisung had at least successfully avoided that and you couldn’t imagine what side of him would unravel if he hadn’t. Haechan liked to joke and play around at times but he was never truly all that possessive over you unless you had truly set him off, and this was one of those instances where you had.
There isn’t a single sign of reluctance in him as he marks you up more and more little by little, sucking red spots into your neck and falling steadily down the rest of your body to cover every area he could. He knows that they aren’t tattoo permanent, but not extremely temporary either. In the moment you would feel him decorating your skin, but afterwards you would look in the mirror and see how he had left you covered practically head to toe in marks. If you were bold enough to try and sneak around with Jisung again, he would be reminded that you didn’t belong to him and you never would. You’re Haechan’s, and Haechan’s only.
Jisung speaks up again, asking in the faintest, meek voice, “Can I touch myself?”
For once it manages to make Haechan pause, and ultimately causes you to whimper by instinct when the rough contact between your skin and his mouth is broken, but the moment is thankfully brief when Haechan shrugs, “Go ahead.” Then he’s continuing again.
At the same time, Jisung manifests every sign of being eager to get his clothes off, desperate to feel some sort of relief that he’s been refused recently. He had planned on breaking that spell, on having you to himself today even if it was only for a while, and honestly couldn’t and wouldn’t have predicted that this would happen. After going without being inside of you for the past couple of days on top of you ghosting him last night (whether you intended to or not), he felt starved of everything he was craving.
Touching himself felt no where as good as being inside you would, and especially after he finally had received the experience to prove it, although it’s better than nothing and he’s accepted that Haechan is likely not going to let him anywhere near your body — not until he’s done playing whatever game he calls this. You would nickname it torment, and so would Jisung.
You’re back to square one soon enough, with Haechan reappearing between your thighs once more, still acting slowly and rather teasingly although not nearly as much as he had the first time around. As you feel his mouth on you, your sounds mix with the ones that Jisung audibly makes as he strokes himself to the sight, practically bouncing off of the walls. “Be quiet,” Haechan whispers momentarily, and you immediately frown. You instantly feel the urge to question why he suddenly has a problem with you making noise, but you figured it would be best to fight against them. If you thought about it, lacking self-control is what landed you in this particular situation in the first place.
In your attempt to hold back any sound, you bite the walls of your cheek. He has you right there on the edge again, at the point where it’s hardest for you to keep quiet, but you manage to comply with his rules. It’s relaxing your body that feels impossible, especially when he’s pushing the right buttons. Your thighs begin to tremble, and your senses feel so heightened that you could almost cry. You’re right there, so close, your orgasm practically in arm’s reach—yet then he torturously snatches it all away once more. This time you do cry, however for an entirely different reason than you anticipated. “Haechan, please let me cum. I’m sorry, I’ll do anything!” you’re past the point of caring that Jisung’s seeing you like this, all capability of feeling embarrassment and shame leaving you as you’re filled to the brim with nothing but denial and want. “Please.”
Swiping his thumb over your eyes, he coos mockingly, “Aw, did you wanna cum? Do you think you deserve it?”
You’re nodding your head impatiently, unable to stop the trail of tears that stream down your cheeks. “I’ve been—I’ve been good, Hyuck. I did everything you told me to do.”
Haechan seemed to debate the decision of his next move in his head, going back and forth with himself a couple of times before ultimately deciding he would he allow you a deal. “Here’s the deal: I’m gonna fuck you, and you better not make a sound unless I tell you to. If you don’t cum by the time that I do, then you won’t cum at all. Got it?”
Again, you nodded fervently, sealing your lips shut in fear of messing up your opportunity to cum before you ever really got the chance if you opened your mouth. Haechan stripped himself of his clothes in what felt like seconds, throwing them onto the floor to be concerned over another time. He had truthfully wanted to be inside you when he saw that video you’d accidentally sent him, just to prove to you that no one could ever make you feel as good as he could. He had a particular motive in not letting Jisung touch you, too. He was punishing not only you, but the both of you, and he wanted Jisung to see that no matter how much you crawled to him, you were Haechan’s. You belonged to him entirely, and he could please you like no other. It wouldn’t matter how good he was because Haechan was better, and with every second that passed, he proved it time and time again, relentlessly.
So when Haechan thrusts inside you, there’s no doubt that Jisung feels jealous. It’s his own fault for messing with someone who didn’t belong to him, but he’s attached to you in a way that he doesn’t think he could be with anybody else.
“Shit, babe,” he slides in easily, both from the fact that you’ve been dangerously aroused since the moment he grabbed you and the fact that he’s edged you twice already.
You had almost whimpered at the feeling of him gliding inside your cunt, but then you remembered the terms of your agreement and settled with digging your teeth into your bottom lip with a force slightly dangerous. In this moment, you’re content. All you had wanted was to be filled and Haechan does so greatly, shoving his girth inside you as though he had been waiting for this moment his whole life. With how much he had been edging you, you never really realized how much his own need was growing.
“Fucking slut,” Haechan growls, watching how eagerly you take him. You look like such a mess, cheeks stained with tears, skin covered in marks, and your body practically shaking in response to the pleasure. “Needed dick so bad you fuck my friend behind my back?”
When you don’t reply, his palm lands on your ass, causing you to barely hold in a moan. “That was a question, baby.”
“I—‘m sorry,” is all you can bring yourself to say. There’s no use in coming up with a better response, you already know there’s no words you could use that would placate him.
“I didn’t fucking ask if you were sorry though, did I?” he smacks your ass once more, and this time you’re unable to contain the loud yelp that tears from between your lips. “And I told you to shut the hell up. But I know you can’t think with nothing but that greedy fucking pussy.”
You’re then distracted by the ever so inviting sounds of Jisung’s moans the second they ripple through the air, instantly shifting your gaze towards him and observing how hot he looks as he gets himself off to this, to you, his hair in front of his face and his lips parted agape. He sounds as beautiful as he looks, eyes squeezing shut in a deepening moan as he strokes himself with his palm. If you were in your full mind, you would have realized that you’re only further proving your boyfriend’s point, however you just can’t help but still want the both of them—together.
Haechan slows his movements until he stops entirely, then grips your chin, slightly rough yet you display no sign of disliking it. In fact, it’s probably worse how much you enjoy him manhandling you. You’re so close to whimpering when he goes still, hardly remaining silent and although he doesn’t mention it, you know he could tell. “Look at me, not him. You’re fucking mine,” he enunciates the single syllable with one sharp, deep thrust. “This pussy is mine,” he repeats the motion again, rocking your body forward and nearly forcing a moan from you, “now tell me who you belong to.”
Weakly, you answer, “Y-you.”
It’s clear that Haechan isn’t moving again until you’ve complied, and he seems unsatisfied by your response. Your thoughts are confirmed when he instead smacks your thigh, resulting in tears to prick your eyes once more.
“Not satisfied. Try again.”
“You, Hyuck, f-fuck,” you sound weakened and broken, attempting to speak through your sobbing, “I’m yours, I belong to you! Only you. N-no one—no one but you.”
That seems to do the trick, because he finally re-starts thrusting into you habitually, temporarily making your vision go black when he strikes a particular, sweet spot. There’s no one word that perfectly captures how he feels inside you, and you wouldn’t even bother to try and think of one. Hell, you’re beyond the point of thinking. You would’ve been embarrassed by how dumb you’d gone at this point, unable to comprehend how loud you’re being and that you’re essentially breaking one of the terms of your deal. Haechan’s in too deep to stop now though, wanting to feel how you perfectly take every inch of him, and instead comes up with a better solution.
“Jisung, come—s-shit—come fuck her throat,” Haechan barely manages to grunt out, his own eyes closing firmly and his moans getting louder with every passing moment. “I know that’ll make a slut like her shut the fuck up.”
At first the command takes him by surprise, though then Jisung’s rushing over to fuck your throat without needing to be told twice. He’s a little unsure if you had even registered the words that left your boyfriend’s mouth, however he can’t find it within him to stop once he slips into your mouth. He can’t stop the moan that tumbles from between his own when he feels your mouth around him, neither, the warm sensation already feeling levels bettet than his palms. It’s then that he realizes you’d never sucked him off before, that it had always been him giving head and you on the receiving end—not that he minded. He loves giving you head and watching the way your body reacts to his touch. However he discovers that he also likes the way your mouth feels.
He’s dreamed about this, and the reality is so much better than the expectations. You’d seemed a little lost when you noticed him in your mouth, but you sucked anyways, assuming Haechan had finally allowed interaction between the both of you and being glad about it. You also feel bad that he had been abandoned on his own for so long, unable to do much but watch, and wanted to please him to the best of your ability. The look on his face is hard to concentrate on when your boyfriend’s simultaneously fucking into you relentlessly, but the glimpses of it that you do manage to catch tell you that you’re most likely doing a great and successful job.
“S-shit, you feel so good,” Jisung moans, practically feeling his whole body tingle.
You’re almost overwhelmed by the feeling of having two dicks in you, although it’s clear as day that he isn’t going to last extremely long, especially considering that he had already been getting himself off beforehand. You listen to his deep groans while simultaneously watching the way Haechan’s face twists and scrunches with pleasure, the three of your sounds—although yours muffled—mixing together as one.
“G-gonna cu—f-fuck,” Jisung grunts, unable to finish his sentence before he’s filling your mouth with his cum, his eyes firmly closed as he murmurs a set of curses. He pulls away when he’s finished, watching with awe as you swallow as much as you can, and admiring the way you look as whatever you couldn’t take in your mouth dripped down and decorated your chin.
There’s something about the way you look at him that honestly makes him feel like he could cum again right then, right there.
Deciding slapping your ass isn’t effective enough, Haechan slaps your cunt to grab your attention, not caring that you whimper from the unexpected impact and almost tempted to do it again because of how sweet you sound. “Focus on me,” he commands, and you comply. “You close?”
Forgetting about what had happened earlier, you simply nod in response, much to his dissatisfaction.
Haechan slapped your cunt again, “It’s like you never learn, baby. Use your words.”
“Y-yeah, I’m close,” it’s written all over your face, you know he’s only asking for a chance to torment you some more, “can I—can I cum?”
“S-shit, cum for me babe. You better do it before I do,” he says, reminding you that you wouldn’t be allowed to cum if you didn’t by the time that he had. He’s just as close as you were, moaning needily, his grip on your waist tightening almost bruisingly. His thrusts get deeper yet they aren’t as precise as they were initially.
Whatever happens in the next couple of moments you don’t process, save for your orgasm and the feeling of Haechan’s cum filling you to the brim, warm and thick. He stops moving eventually, slowing the way he rocks into your hips until he pauses completely. When he pulls out, he watches the way his cum drips from your cunt, unable to hide the proud smile developing on his face. He knows you like it too, recalling vividly all the times you’ve begged for him to cum in you.
He scoops you into his arms afterwards, kissing your neck gently again, making you giggle when he avoids your mouth for obvious reasons. “You okay? Too rough?”
You shake your head. “I’m good.” He’s never too rough on you.
Jisung clears his throat from beside you, making you both shift your gaze to him. “So, um,” he begins awkwardly, “what now?”
The smirk on Haechan’s face is sinister, and you know whatever he’s thinking in his head can mean zero good, but a part of you is excited for it anyways. “We’re not done here,” he says plainly, then adds, “since you wanted it so bad, do you think you can take two dicks for us, y/n?”
You have no idea, but you guess you were about to find out.
When you slowly nodded in confirmation, you swear you saw Jisung eyes twinkle a little in excitement. “Can we record it?”
Haechan shrugs. “Is that okay with you, babe?”
“Yeah, that’s fine,” you reply, thrilled by the idea. If this was the last time you’d ever be with the two of them at once, then you wanted to be able to remember it vividly, and there was no better way than recording.
Your boyfriend grabs his phone from the nightstand, grinning a little devilishly. “Are you ready?” When you nodded, he pressed record and immediately brought the camera to your face, still sticky with cum.
“Smile for the camera, baby.”
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ⋆ BEDROOM FOR GOOD GIRLS ONLY — lee donghyuck
exhibitionist-bf!haechan & fem!readerㅤ⭑ ⚝ . drabble — 492 wordsㅤㅤㅤlikes ; reblogs ; comments are appreciated ! requests & taglist open !
ㅤㅤsyn:the second this menace pulled the curtains aside just to slip in beside you, saying he just wants to see the clothes freshly pulled on you, there was more behind that already not so innocent statement and you felt it, but did you resist? absolutely no.ㅤㅤ୭౿ㅤㅤㅤwarnings:smut [mdni] , [public] fingering , dirty talk , slight degrading , pet names , squirting , getting caught , not proofread , sorry if missed anything & for the possible mistakes
ㅤ”so, so dumb for me, right, pretty? no thoughts, only my fingers, hm?” he cooed, the gentle facade fitting perfectly on him against the harsh tug on your throbbing clit, making your jolt up against the thin wall behind you. the curtain so often lifted with every single move outside by passersby, the faint rustling of his hands under your clothes not contained at all.
he let out a feigned gasp in surprise.
“careful, baby, don’t bump your head now..” the feigned care in his tone made you want to yell or even kick him, was through the roof.
how could he stay so calm, so silent, so composed, — so put together, while you were here, your juices drenching up your pushed aside panties, hot trickling down your thighs, and even wetting up the floor underneath you.
“stop— stop— they’re gonna hear—” squeezing your eyes shut with a silent moan slipping past your wobbling lips, the grin curling at the corner of his mouth while making a faint, sneering scoff, like it wasn’t his fault.
like all of this wasn’t his idea.
saying you’ll go out shopping, and the generous boyfriend he is, he helps you pick whatever really suits you.
except you should’ve known that if something can go wrong, it will go wrong eventually, after all, we’re talking about lee haechan.
“calm down, baby, you really wanna soak everything around you now?” the question mocked you, while two of his digits ruthlessly pumped in and out continuously, the small, sensitive spot abused over and over again.
your body jerked up with every prodding, your stomach twisting into another type of warmth, the coil tight and threatening to snap at any moment.
“h—hyuck— i think— wait i—” unintelligible babbles mixed with your strained moans before you finally exploded over his hand with a hot gush of wetness spraying out and dirty everything—mostly him and splashing to the ground.
a low, satisfied growl vibrated deep within his chest, eyes sternly fixated on his own little messy fountain; you. fingers slipped out with an obscene squelch, continuously landing gentle yet firm smack over your pussy as you trembled through you orgasm, still very much in a changing booth.
ears ringing, chest rising in uneven breaths, eyes half lidded from pleasure as haechan, hands already fixing your clothing hastily, muttering things about “being loud” and “staying inside too long” and “being caught,” which your foggy brain couldn’t even comprehend as sentences at the moment.
few moments later, you found yourself under the store’s white, blinding light yet again, but with crumpled up clothes, out of breath, and an uncomfortable state hiding under your panties.
the individual rushing in front of you and dragging you by your wrist decided you do not require new tops. a thorough pounding, actually.
and the lady you two bolt by, with their eyebrows sitting close, confused, lips in a thin line, probably — absolutely knew what happened.
pairing: chenle x reader
word count: 1234 (i’m being so deadass)
genre: smut (MDNI), timestamps <3
warnings: bestfriend!chenle, inexperienced reader, pussy eater chenle!!, praise, pet names, overstimulation…again :3
a/n: yeah…take my phone away from me 😭😭
“you’re really nervous, huh?”
his voice is soft— gentle in that way chenle rarely ever is. usually he’s teasing, smug, full of sharp grins and sarcastic remarks. but not right now.
right now he’s kneeling between your thighs, warm palms sliding slowly up the backs of your legs as you sit there on the edge of his bed, trembling slightly, every part of you too aware of the fact that you’re finally letting him touch you like this.
your best friend.
your very experienced, very cocky best friend.
you nod, swallowing hard. “i’ve never—i mean, not like this. not anyone…”
he leans in a little, thumbs brushing the crease where your thighs meet your hips. “i know,” he says softly, meeting your gaze. “i’ll take care of you. you trust me, right?”
you nod again—faster this time. because you do. you’ve always trusted him.
and something about the way he’s looking at you makes you ache. like you’re something fragile. like he wants to ruin you slow.
“good,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh. “just relax, baby. let me make you feel good.”
you inhale sharply as he pushes your legs apart, letting them fall open for him. chenle groans, low and soft, like he’s been waiting for this forever.
“fuck,” he breathes, mouth barely brushing your skin. “so pretty. you don’t even know what you’re doing to me.”
his hands are steady, thumbs stroking gentle circles into your hips as he kisses closer. he’s not rushing. not even a little.
you’re already soaked, and the first slow lick of his tongue makes you gasp.
“oh my god—”
“shhh,” he murmurs, grinning against you. “you’re okay. i’ve got you.”
he eats you out like he’s memorizing the shape of every sound you make—every twitch, every breathless moan. like he wants to make you cry from how good it feels.
and the praise. god, the praise.
“so sweet, baby.”
“you’re doing so good for me.”
“you taste like fucking heaven.”
his voice is thick with want, but he doesn’t let it slip. doesn’t rush. just keeps lapping at you slowly, tongue dragging through your folds, lips sealing around your clit with practiced ease.
you’re shaking in minutes, one hand fisting in the sheets, the other gripping his hair.
“c-chenle, i—”
he pulls back for half a second, mouth shiny, smile soft and crooked. “already close?”
you nod frantically, eyes wet.
“fuck, that’s so hot,” he whispers, before diving back in.
he moans against you like he loves it—like getting you off is his favorite fucking thing in the world. and it’s too much—his tongue, his voice, the way he’s holding your hips down even as you squirm.
“come for me, baby,” he breathes, mouth brushing your clit, fingers digging into your thighs. “let go. i wanna hear how pretty you sound when you fall apart.”
and when you do—shaking and sobbing through the most overwhelming pleasure you’ve ever felt—he doesn’t stop. he slows, sure, kisses through it, licks up everything you give him with a groan like he’s drunk on it.
then he’s kissing your thighs again. your belly. your trembling hips.
“you did so good for me,” he whispers, crawling up beside you to pull you into his chest. “so fuckin’ good. my perfect girl.”
your legs won’t stop shaking, chest rising and falling in uneven gasps as you clutch chenle’s shirt, the aftershocks of your orgasm still rippling through your limbs. you’re dazed—floaty. the kind of blissed-out that makes it hard to speak, let alone think.
he’s holding you gently now, hand smoothing over your back, lips brushing your forehead like he just gave you the sweetest gift in the world.
and then he murmurs it. low and soft and dangerous.
“i’m not done with you.”
you stiffen a little, whining into his shirt. “i—i already—”
“i know,” he says sweetly, kissing the corner of your mouth. “you were perfect. but i didn’t say you could stop.”
your breath catches. his tone isn’t cruel. it’s warm. coaxing. but there’s something firm under it—something that tells you he means it.
his hand slips down again, fingers ghosting over your soaked, sensitive cunt. you jolt.
“still wet,” he whispers. “still warm. so pretty like this—fuck, you squeeze when i talk to you like that.”
you whimper, thighs trying to close on instinct, but he’s already between them again. already settling down with a grin that could ruin anyone.
“you trust me, right?” he says again, eyes locking with yours. “you want me to take care of you?”
you nod, already breathless again, even as your body trembles.
“that’s my girl.”
and then he’s kissing you there again—softer this time, gentler, but it burns now, every brush of his tongue dragging sparks through your nerves. your hips lift without meaning to, legs trembling as he licks slow, careful stripes over your clit.
“so sensitive,” he coos. “you feel everything now, don’t you?”
you nod helplessly, mouth falling open as another soft moan escapes you. it’s too much—you should be done. but the way he’s touching you? the praise? the warm weight of his hands holding your thighs apart, steady and patient and so fucking in control—it makes you want more.
he keeps going, not teasing, not rushing. just loving you. like this is his favorite thing in the world. like he knew you’d take it again. like he knew your body would give in even when your mind said it was too much.
“you’re doing so good for me, baby. look at you,” he murmurs, voice full of warmth and awe. “already shaking, already crying again. and you’re still letting me.”
your eyes are glossy now, and you don’t even realize the tears are back until he lifts his head and kisses one off your thigh.
“fuck, you’re so sweet,” he groans, fingers digging into your hips. “you have no idea what you’re doing to me.”
he presses a kiss to your clit, feather-light, and your whole body jolts.
“can you give me one more?” he whispers, smiling up at you. “just one. i’ll make it feel so good, i promise. just one more for me, pretty girl.”
you whine, nodding through the overwhelm, because even if it’s too much—you trust him. and you want it. want him.
his tongue returns with purpose this time, circling your clit, flicking it just right, the angle of his mouth making everything sharper. your hips twitch and your hand flies to his hair, tugging without realizing it.
“that’s it,” he breathes, voice husky and low. “give it to me. i want to feel you come again. i need to.”
and god—when it happens, it’s loud. it’s messy. it’s a sobbed-out moan and a full-body shake, your thighs closing around his head as you come for him a second time, even harder than the first.
he doesn’t stop until you push at him, crying out softly, and even then he kisses your thigh, your mound, your hip—whispering, “you did so good. you’re amazing. i’m so proud of you.”
and when he finally climbs back up beside you, pulling you into his arms again, you bury your face in his neck, still trembling. still reeling.
he presses a kiss to your forehead, brushing your hair back.
“you okay?” he whispers.
you nod. and then, barely audible—“thank you.”
his smile is audible in the warmth of his voice.
“anytime, baby.”
making out with haechan in the backseat would be so hot. you’d be sitting on his lap, his hands would be in the back pockets of your jeans, groping your ass. the sound of lips smacking could be heard, your arms around his neck and fingers sliding up into his hair. grinding down on his growing bulge, softly moaning into each other’s mouths at the feeling.
hi(gh) roomie! | lmk
stoner!roommate!mark -> roommates to ???
summary: mark needed a roommate as soon as possible, and luckily his problem is solved when you end up moving in. you’re sweet and can hold your own in a smoke session, but as you grow closer he’s caught in a dilemma—is it normal to think about you as much as he does?
wc: 4.4k | genre: fluff, smut | 18+ mdni
cw: weed use, slightly jealous!mark, masturbation, oral (receiving), voyeurism-ish, unprotected pinv sex (do not do), pull out method, pet names: baby
mark’s pov of roomie high, can be read alone!
if you asked mark lee about one good thing that happened to him this year, he’d probably talk about you—not that he’d ever admit it to your face.
especially since he lives with you.
before the two of you became roommates, your circles of friends tended to overlap and he’d seen you a couple of times, learning your name in passing, yet never having an actual conversation.
even if he wanted to, he never paid much mind outside of his immediate circle. life was pretty hectic—he was adjusting to a new job and had just moved to a new 2-bedroom apartment with a friend.
it seemed like he was out of luck when only 3 months into his lease his roommate made the brash decision to move in with his on-and-off girlfriend in hopes that their relationship would stabilize. his soon to be ex-roommate was aware it was a little toxic, super apologetic, but certain about his decision.
mark understood, kind of, but he still had to find a roommate before his bank account was run dry.
it felt like an answered prayer when haechan called him over to you at a random kickback. you were visibly distressed, and though you tried to stop your shared friend, haechan blabbered on and on about how you were looking for a new smoke-friendly apartment and roommate.
it was safe to say mark might not have been in his right judgement after smoking a bowl and a half by this point in the night, but he couldn’t see any downside to this.
you needed a place, he needed a roommate.
you liked smoking, he liked smoking.
plus, if haechan trusted you enough to suggest this arrangement, he thought he could, too.
taking in your nervous form and eyes darting between him and haechan, the words left his mouth before he could even stop them.
“i mean, i’m cool with it, if you are..?”
your eyes widened as if you didn’t expect him to agree, and you responded after a brief pause.
“..yeah, we can talk about it after today,” you muttered quietly, and something about the way you looked at him made the back of his neck tingle, but the feeling was quickly overshadowed by his relief at solving his apartment problem.
it started a bit awkward, with the two of you walking on eggshells and being overly considerate of the other. mark knew he couldn’t live that way, however, and after resolving himself, he decided to break the ice the way he knew best—with a little weed.
he grabbed his shoebox of supplies, finding you in the living room.
“hey dude, uh.. house-warming smoke?” he had asked shyly, and your eyes lit up at the offer, lips parting in a bright smile as you accepted happily.
he liked that look on you, finding himself smiling, too.
he rolled you a joint to share, and after a few back and forths, he found himself in comfortable conversation with his new roommate. you brightened as time passed, breaking into giggles and fits of rambling, and the two of you talked about all kinds of things well into the night.
he went to sleep that night with just one thought—he could really get used to this.
and he did, setting a new routine of ending nights with roomie meals and smoke sessions whenever your schedules aligned.
sometimes the two of you knock out on the couch at some point during the night, and when he wakes up and shakes you to get you to go to your bed, your cute groggy whines for 5 more minutes have him falling back asleep right beside you.
the longer you live together, the more he notices how being around you has affected him.
he tries not to stare when you walk around in those thin pajama shorts of yours, oversized t-shirts sometimes making it look like you don’t have them on at all.
when you get all dolled up for a night out, he wonders if you’re meeting with someone who will actually appreciate how good you look.
he finds himself dropping by your work every once in a while, too, walking home with you after picking up some food—usually something he knows you like.
he’s gotten used to falling asleep on the couch next to you, wondering how it would feel to have you just a bit closer. it stings a little when he wakes up to your side of the couch empty.
he doesn’t know exactly what compels him to do all of this, to feel like this, but he does know that he really, really likes having you around.
maybe a little too much—maybe a little more than a good roommate and friend should.
the night after a particularly heavy smoke session, he wakes up to you trying to be as quiet as possible in the kitchen. he groans as he stretches, groggy as he tries to rub the sleep from his eyes.
“if you’re making coffee can i also get a cup, please? i’m gonna be fighting for my life at work today..” he asks, having gotten used to your daily morning routines.
your laughter coming from the kitchen alerts him, and the sweet tone of your voice has him opening his eyes fully. “was already making enough for both of us.”
he sits up, gazing at you over the back of the couch, watching as you set down his mug next to your thermos on the kitchen counter.
this all feels entirely too domestic, too natural, as if the two of you are more than just people who live together—is this a normal thing? is it normal to want to join you in the kitchen, wrapping his arms around your waist?
when he finally gets up after you’ve left, he rushes to the bathroom, glaring down at the tent in his shorts. he shimmies out of his clothes, hopping into the shower. the hot water runs down his body, and he wraps a hand around his cock, hard and heavy. he runs his thumb over his tip, hissing at the sensation.
it’s not normal.
morning wood is a natural thing, yes, but as he jerks himself furiously, biting his bottom lip to keep his groans to a minimum, all he pictures is you—your voice, your hair, your scent, the way you call his name so sweetly.
he finishes before he knows it, the running water quickly washing away his release. post-nut clarity hits him like a train.
he has to chill out a bit. there’s no way he just got off thinking about you.
the last thing he’d want to do is make you uncomfortable, not when his life has just started to fall into place with you in it. he doesn’t need anything complicated.
that’s what he tells himself, but when his work day gets cut short due to a busted pipe in the building, he finds himself outside the bookshop you work at 10 minutes before your shift ends.
he enters, but before he sees you, he hears you, and not just you. there’s a familiar voice he hopes isn’t who he thinks it is. he rounds one of the bookshelves, nearing the source of the noise, and the sight he’s met with makes his blood boil.
you’re there, but so is haechan, and you have your hands over his face as he grips your wrists, laughing maniacally at god knows what.
mark knows the two of you are really close friends, and it shouldn’t bother him, especially since it’s thanks to haechan that he got close to you in the first place.
but he can’t help it as his jaw clenches at the sight of you in haechan’s hold.
mark might live with you, but there’s a boundary that he doesn’t cross. he wishes that were him in haechan’s place, comfortable enough to touch you, to hold you.
he gasps as he realizes just how far his thoughts have gone just as you catch sight of him over hyuck’s shoulder. you shake your still laughing friend off while you greet him.
“mark?? what are you doing here?” you ask in surprise, and mark realizes he forgot to text you like he usually does when he comes by. his feet just took him there before he knew it.
haechan greets mark, looking between the two of you with a grin.
“i got outta work a little early so i thought i’d come by. we can get take out for dinner on the way home?” mark explains. so much for chilling out—this just amps up the domesticity even more.
“take out sounds good with me!” haechan butts in a little too happily before you can say anything.
you and mark give him a pointed look. it’s not the first time he’s invited himself over, but in this moment mark feels more irritated than ever, frustration bubbling in his throat.
hyuck smiles at the two of you for a moment before laughing again. “i’m just kidding guys, you should see the looks on your faces.” he meets mark’s eyes with look that seems to say that he knows something a mark doesn’t. mark quirks an eyebrow up, but haechan just laughs, turning on his heel to head home.
“wouldn’t want to interrupt anything, see you later cuties!”
your friend is gone before either of you can say anything, and all frustration in mark’s head is replaced with panic. had haechan been reading his mind? was he that obvious?
“wha- interrupting? interrupting what?” mark turns to you with a confused face, trying to play it off.
luckily, you are quick to change the subject. “he’s just being stupid, what do you wanna get for dinner?”
mark nods, grateful at your dismissal. “hmm, i don’t know. what do you want?” he responds.
“let’s get some noodles from down the street, i’ve been craving them.” mark feels his cheekbones lift, smiling warmly at you. he loves that you’re comfortable enough to tell him what you want.
“sure, it’s on me tonight!” he offers excitedly, and you beam in response.
“thank you, markie,” you reply, and the sweet nickname hits him straight in the gut. he doesn’t show it, matching your pace as you walk.
“anything for you.”
he means it.
at home, the two of you light up before digging into your food, but something about today is a little different. maybe it’s because he’s a little guilty about what he did in the shower this morning, or maybe it’s because he’s coming to terms with how he feels about you.
it’s a little too cold in the living room, and he goes to his room to put on a hoodie. he sees another hoodie on his bed, and picturing you in it, he grabs it without another thought and comes back out, handing it to you.
he quickly realizes how stupid he must look giving you one of his hoodies when your own room is just a few steps away. “oh shit, uhh, wait my bad.. you totally could’ve just gotten one of yours.”
you shake your head, beaming cutely at him “no, i’ll take yours, too lazy to get up. thank you.”
mark really thinks he made a mistake as you put it on. the sight of you in his clothes has his stomach stirring.
settling into the couch, you’re having trouble lighting the joint, so he puts it in his own mouth, lighting it before holding it up to your lips so you can take a hit. he gazes at the way your eyelashes flutter shut as you take a hit of the joint, the way your lips wrap around it so close to his fingers.
you don’t realize what you’re doing to him, or maybe you do, but he tries to push it all down as you slowly hotbox the apartment. it’s a friday night, so you two can smoke as much as you want, having the weekend off.
and smoke you do.
as the night progresses, the two of you have made your way through 3 joints, and mark holds his pipe in hand ready to light up even more. you’re honestly both high as shit, and you both know it too. every little thing on the tv is the funniest thing you’ve ever seen, and your noodles have been long gone.
mark sees you looking at him from the corner of his eye as he takes a long drag from his pipe, handing it to you before letting the smoke seep from his lips. he chuckles at how excited you seem waiting for your turn. you take a hit and set it down.
“i’m about to be glued to this couch for the next 24 hours,” mark drawls out. he readjusts himself on the couch, letting out a borderline moan as he feels a few joints pop. the last thing he remembers is hearing you say something and feeling the couch shift before he drifts off.
a sudden vibration of his phone laying on top of his chest jolts him awake.
“what the…” he rubs his eyes. it must be well past midnight, and he looks over to your side of the couch, once again feeling that ache in his chest at the bare cushions.
he moves to get up and go to his room to lay in the comfort of his bed, still so high and way too tired to think. he almost misses a soft cry coming from the direction of your room. almost.
whipping his head in the direction of your room, he pauses, thinking he must be having a weed-induced hallucinations.
against his better judgement, he stalks very slowly to your slightly open door with the warm light from your bedside lamp peaking through. he thinks he’s hearing things until he hears it again.
but it’s not just a cry, it’s the sound of a name.
his name. in your voice.
“m-mark. oh fuck, mark.”
he slaps a hand to his mouth quietly, in disbelief at what might be behind your door, but as he approaches his suspicions are not only confirmed by another repetition of his name, but the view of you that comes into his sights.
you’re on your bed, wearing only his hoodie with your hand stuffed down your underwear. his eyes drink up your form, your chest heaving as you work yourself up. your legs are spread and your head is thrown back, moans of his name tumbling from your lips.
mark’s mouth goes dry, and he almost feels faint for a second with how much blood rushes to his head and his cock. this can’t be a high dream, right? he pinches himself. nope, not a dream.
he swallows thickly as he processes everything going on in front of him.
for a second he thinks maybe getting off to each other is a normal thing for roommates if both of you are doing it. he palms at his hardening member through his shorts.
but no, this isn’t normal, and it finally registers that you want him. you want him in the same way he wants you, and a streak of confidence runs through him.
sober mark would be hesitant, but high mark says fuck it. you’re literally calling out to him—not some rando, not haechan, you’re calling his name.
you want him to touch you, to hold you, to make you feel good, and what kind of roomie would he be if he didn’t give you what you wanted?
you don’t even notice mark come in until he’s made his way to your bed, the cushions dipping under his weight. you gasp, immediately closing your legs as your head snaps up to meet his hungry gaze.
“mark! oh my fucki- get out!” you start to ramble, clearly shocked at this situation. “i swear it’s not what it looks like.. i just-”
“what does it look like, baby?” mark comes closer to you. you immediately stop at his words, mouth opening in shock at this shift. mark continues.
“that you’re getting your pretty little self off while moaning my name? what are you thinking about?” he settles in front of your now curled up form.
“or, who are you thinking about? cause i think i can guess who,” he says lowly, lips forming a slight grin as he peers into your widened eyes.
you sit up slightly.
“mark.. you aren’t weirded out?” you ask hesitantly. weirded out is the last thing he’d be.
“why would i be? in fact-“ mark grabs your hand and leads it to his sweats, “let me show you how i’m feeling.” you gasp at the hardened tent, and his cock throbs at your touch.
“sorry for the interruption, but let’s get back to it?” mark backs up, pulling you by the waist until you’re propped on your back atop your pillows. “i’d love to give you a hand, baby,” he coos, settling between your legs.
he drinks up the sight of you. he loves you like this—wearing his clothes, looking like you’re his.
“all wrapped up in my hoodie, just like a present,” mark says lowly, his eyes moving down as he lifts up the bottom of his hoodie to meet your soaked underwear. “is all this for me?”
you seem to still be in shock, but you manage to let out a weak response.
“it’s all for you, markie.”
it goes straight to his pants and his heart, immediately pushing him into action even in his high state. he gets on his stomach to go down on you, not even bothering to take off your underwear.
he hums as his tongue meets your soaked panties, tasting you as your arousal combines with his spit.
fuck, he could stay here for hours if you’d let him.
using one hand to move your panties to the side, he slides his fingers through your slit, and you gasp at the direct contact. his tongue takes the place of his fingers, and your cries are like music to his ears.
“oh god mark, f-feels too fucking good,” you moan out. he runs a soothing hand along your thigh, loving the way you tremble under his tongue.
your eyes roll and toes curl at the pleasure, hands coming to grip his hair as he lets the mixture of his spit and your juices flow down his chin onto your bed. he groans at the feeling of your hands tugging at his hair, pressing himself even further into you.
mark buries his nose into your clit, looking up at you, and as if you sense him staring, you look back down to meet his eyes.
as soon as you meet his eyes, one last swipe of his tongue across your clit it has you cumming almost immediately.
mark stares up at you in wonder, groaning again as you throw your head up and let out a cry, legs shaking around his head as he helps you ride out your orgasm.
when he sits back up to admire his work, he swears he could cum then and there. in his sights is you still in his hoodie, eyes teary, panting from the pleasure he gave you, and underwear absolutely ruined.
“fuck, baby, you tasted too good.” he licks the remnants off his lips, and he’s so hard it hurts.
as you come down, your eyes are bleary as you stare into his, but it’s filled with so much desire telling him that even the haze of the high is still there, you both know exactly what needs to come next.
“mark, fuck me, please.”
he almost moans at your pleading, his heart doing flips at another confirmation that you want him, you need him.
“…anything for you, baby,” mark replies. he takes off his shirt and sweats, and your hands move to take his hoodie off of you when he stops you.
“no, keep it on. i need to fill you up like this,” he says, tone slightly pleading. if he was already beyond turned on seeing you get off in his hoodie, fucking you in it would be a whole different story. it’s another reminder to him that this is all real.
“condoms?” he asks.
“i’m on the pill, and i haven’t fucked anyone in a really long time,” you reply, getting slightly impatient. his chest fills with excitement at that news—he’d hate hearing about any other man being in this position.
“me too, baby.”
he lines himself up with your entrance, rubbing his cock up and down your slit to coat himself in your arousal. he knows you came just a second ago, and you’re still sensitive, but he loves knowing he’s the reason for all of it.
“stop teasing.. need you so bad mark,” you groan. he grins.
“shh, need to take my time stretching you out, baby.” he latches his head onto your entrance, slowly pushing the tip in. just the tip has you seeing stars.
“fuck mark, w-why are you so big..” he has to pause at your question, trying to keep hold of his self control as he slowly inches himself in, letting you adjust.
“you’re so t-tight,” he chokes out, teeth clenching as he feels your walls start to engulf him. if he moves too fast, he knows he’ll cum too soon.
as he bottoms out, the two of you moan into each other, his forehead resting on yours as you both feel each other. you feel like you were made for him, hugging his member perfectly. like always, words seem to leave him before he even realizes what he’s saying.
“can i kiss you, dude?” mark asks a bit too innocently for the situation you’re in, and your resulting laugh sends a vibration through you that has you both moaning out.
“i can’t believe you just called me dude when your dick is literally inside of me right now, of course you can kiss me,” you give him the okay, and mark doesn’t even care that he sounded dumb, right away putting his lips on yours.
the kiss is sluggish yet deep, and he starts to move his hips ever so slightly as he deepens your kiss further. his hips start to pick up more speed gradually, and you separate from his lips as you gasp out.
you’re moaning his name and he’s moaning yours, and the only thing he can think is that you feel so fucking good around him, like you were made to take his cock.
his hips start to rut into you more desperately, his pelvis hitting your sensitive bud as deep groans leave his throat.
he watches your face as you get lost in the rocking motion, shivering as drool leaks from the side of your mouth. you’re just so pretty, and even prettier fucked out for him, probably high out of your mind still.
mark is also feeling a pleasure like no other, mind spinning as he breathes harshly. he knows he’s not gonna last long.
“fuck baby, i need you to cum on my cock.” he punctuates his words with his hand resting on your lower stomach as he starts to thumb at your clit.
your eyes shut tightly at the feeling, already reaching another high. the band in your stomach tightens and tightens as mark rubs harsh circles in tempo with his quickening thrusts, and with one last swipe it snaps.
you cum hard around him and he almost has to stop from how tight you’re gripping around him, walls pulsating as you ride out your high. unable to hold back any longer, mark pulls out, cum landing on the hoodie you’re wearing.
he collapses next to you, and the two of you catch your breath as you come down from both your sex and weed highs. he turns his head towards you, taking in how you look after he’s had his way with you.
you smile back at him, and pull at the fabric of the hoodie you’re wearing.
“markie, you came all over your hoodie, how am i supposed to stay warm tonight?”
your smile turns teasing, and his lips curl up as he picks up what you’re hinting at. he rises to his knees and grabs the hem of the hoodie, pulling it up over your head.
“nah dude, i can do a way better job than that old hoodie.” mark lays back down, gathering you into his arms. he tucks you into his chest, and you seem to fit perfectly enveloped with him.
both of you have cooled down, and the feeling of your skin on his is just what he needs. his mind wanders as he feels you drift off to sleep in his arms.
this isn’t normal for roommates, but fuck that—maybe it can be for you two. maybe you don’t have to be just roomies.
and when he wakes up the next morning with you still in his hold, the aching feeling of waking up to you gone replaced by a warm feeling in his chest, he’s sure.
he takes in the way you stir under his touch, cuddling further into his chest when he runs his fingers down your arm, taking in how soft your skin is.
the way your pretty lashes flutter open, and soft sighs leave your lips when he trails kisses down your neck.
the way you both call out of work that day, unable to hold yourselves back from one round in bed and another in the shower, the two of you drifting off again after with hickeys littering your skin and nail marks streaking his.
he knows he wants to be so much more.
to be continued?
a/n: thank you for reading, i hope you enjoyed!! again it isn’t technically a new fic, but i’m happy to be back writing even if it's just at this capacity, and i hope it can be a catalyst for coming up with new fics!! :D
feedback and shares always appreciated <3
-coco
⭑ mark becomes a little too obsessed now that he learns you can squirt... ﹙+18﹚
you weren’t sure if you could take another. your body trembled, legs weak, breaths uneven. the sheets beneath you were damp, evidence of just how far he had pushed you.
but mark didn’t seem near to being finished.
his mouth worked at you with devotion, tongue teasing, exploring—his every move deliberate, like he was savoring something forbidden. each flick, each slow stroke of his lips against your pussy sent fresh waves of pleasure rolling through you. his nose brushed against that sensitive spot each time he dipped his tongue inside, and all you could do was lay there, helpless, open for him.
your thighs twitched, but they were locked over his shoulders, his firm grip keeping you exactly where he wanted. not that you had the strength to close them even if you tried.
“just one more, baby,” he murmured, voice thick with hunger. “c’mon… give me another.” then, he sucked at your clit, a sudden, ruthless pull that had your back arching, his name spilling from your lips like a prayer.
his skin glistened, his abs damp from his earlier efforts—where he had learned you could squirt. where he had discovered he could make you fall apart so completely, so beautifully, that he never wanted to stop.
god, you were a sight—eyes fluttering, fingers tangled in the sheets, body shivering with every stroke of his tongue. mark drank in every reaction, every twitch and shudder, and it only made him want more.
you could feel his impatience growing. his tongue moved faster, more insistent, each stroke messier, greedier. then, he pressed his fingers inside—deep, unrelenting—pulling another cry from your throat as your grip tightened in his hair.
“mark—please,” you gasped, barely able to form words.
“i know you can, baby,” he coaxed, pressing a slow, teasing circle against your swollen clit. his voice was soothing, but his touch was anything but. “do it again for me… make a mess for me, and i’ll let you rest.”
as if you had a choice. as if your body wasn’t already on the edge, trembling, desperate, ready to break for him all over again.
your stomach tightened, that sweet, unbearable pressure coiling deep in your core. your eyes squeezed shut and your hips lifted instinctively, searching for more, and then—
everything snapped.
a breathless cry left your lips as pleasure crashed over you, your body stuttering, back arching off the mattress as you gave him exactly what he wanted.
you barely had the strength to open your eyes, but you felt it—the way he held your legs still, trying to catch every drop of your release with his mouth. the way his breathing stuttered against your skin, his own body shivering, desperate for relief.
and then, without a single touch to himself, mark groaned—a deep, guttural sound—and you knew. his own release spilled hot and heavy against the sheets, proof of just how much your pleasure alone undid him.
the room was silent, save for the sound of your ragged breaths. your body twitched, oversensitive, spent. your legs refused to move, your muscles weak, your mind floating somewhere between bliss and exhaustion.
mark exhaled, running a slow hand through his damp hair, grinning like a man who had just won the greatest prize of his life.
“that,” he murmured, voice husky, lips brushing against your thigh, “was the hottest thing i’ve ever seen.”
you finally managed to lift your head, and what you saw made your breath catch.
mark—utterly wrecked. skin glistening, hair damp, that triumphant smirk tugging at his lips. and lower… his cock, still standing proudly, flushed, glistening, as if daring you to do something about it.
you groaned, letting your head fall back against the pillow.
mark only chuckled, crawling up to hover over you, his lips grazing yours.
“think thirty minutes is enough for you?” he murmured, teasing, tempting.
god help you and your insatiable beast boyfriend.
| 𝗇𝗈𝗍𝖾𝗌 𖹭 don't you also think it's hot when they get pleasure by giving pleasure to their partner? oh gosh help me... i just wanna squirt for mark 😪
would you write anything about perv chenle tyyyy, love your works btw :3
corrupt pervert. z.cl
ft. loser perv jisung… bc i had to. i rarely write this level of power imbalances, not sure if im good at it lol lmk what u think tho
perv!chenle is an absolute menace. the type of pervert that wants you to notice, and feel flustered over how brazen he is,, nothing can deter him with his level of confidence. an aggressive type of perv, handsy with a side of degradation, unfiltered thoughts and unflinching stares. inflicted humiliation by dominance, they go together so well, don’t they?
all eyes are on you, whether you like it or not, whether they’re obvious or not. it’s all his fault, so smug with the unbothered way chenle is undressing you with his eyes, the hand on your thigh almost hidden by the hem of your skirt, caressing the skin of your inner thigh, barely a centimeter away from your cute cotton panties, he’s staring at you, a devilish smirk as you squirm under the weight of less than subtle glances from the members sitting nearby. leaning closely, his lips to your ear, shamelessly dirty thoughts that make you flinch and rub your thighs together, trapping his hand between your legs, heat radiating off your face in waves of embarrassment, his obvious bulge pressed to your thigh, panties shamefully wet and chenle knows. flipping up your skirt to make you flustered as you try to cover up what little decency there is left, a glint to his eyes as he sees jeno swallow a little obviously, jaemin and his more subtle glances, jisung shifting a little and tugging his shirt hem over his crotch, perv!chenle never fails to make a show out of his little slut, everyone knows what goes on between you two. and he’ll make sure you’re around to hear about what he does to ruin you.
perv!chenle absolutely corrupts you. makes you as perverted for him as he is for you, trains you into his perfect slut. won’t fuck you until you’re taught how to properly suck him off,, and all good behavior comes with a reward for fulfilling him. expensive lingerie purchases, lessons in the backseat of his car, sexual tension is always high.
his driver should be used to this by now, the way chenle has you on your knees, sucking him off in the backseat. one hand fisting your hair, controlling your pace. not good enough, too sloppy. he’ll train you to fix your technique… always swallow his load of cum. all of it. praises laced with humiliation, pretty slut, dirty whore. he’s trained you to want to please him, love being his good girl when you’re doing well, learning so eagerly. your legs spread for him so willingly, ‘cause he makes it feels so good to be spoiled for good behavior,, and fucking through a car ride, steamy windows and air heavy with the scent of sex,, you don’t even register when the driver has parked the car at his building.
perv!chenle fucks with an audience. please, you thought it was just being handsy and corruption? no, it’s fucking with the door to his room wide open… if he’s even bothering to save it for his bedroom, relishing in the way everyone knows he’s making a such a slut out of you. pretend to be innocent all you want. everyone knows otherwise. willingly or not.
cry, scream his name, tear streaks stained with mascara down your cheeks, so fucked out you don’t realize there’s an audience at first, ‘til your hair is fisted and dragged up to make you look up, so embarrassing to be watched, isn’t it? or maybe it’s the way your pussy clenches tighter ‘round chenle’s cock when you see mark staring through the door, biting his lip and hands clenched into fists,, watching as chenle ruins you on all fours, his creamy cum dripping down your ass, viscous ropes of sticky seed and as chenle grins,, come on, who’s fucking you like a whore? say it. say it again, and again, and again, fucks you ‘til you can’t say his name anymore, handprints on your ass, oh, you’re really cute like this. ‘cause chenle knows you’d never be satisfied unless it’s rough and messy,, he’s corrupted you this way. just the way he wants it.
perv!chenle’s so generous… and willing to share. oh, it’s almost as if he wants others to crave you when you’re his, go ahead, let them get attached, but in the end, you’re always his. masturbating while you’re presenting your pretty pussy, always looking at him for approval, so desperate to please him, drooling a little over how badly you want to suck him off too. it’s okay if your cute head can’t keep up with his desires, obedience is the absolute arousing factor to his pervertedness.
good girl, chenle’s hand petting your hair, your head in his lap as jisung’s cock clumsily sinks into your pussy, his pretty lips parted as his gasps for air ‘cause he never gets pussy on his own… imagine, how embarrassing, chenle’s girlfriend as his only source of sexual relief. chenle’s fingers slipping past your lips, obediently sucking on his fingertips and his other hand slowly stroking his length, your whimpers muffled, jisung’s quiet moaning how good you feel, he doesn’t last very long. and it’s not long before you’re climbing into chenle’s lap for praises, his fingers easily toying with the clit jisung failed to find, all you want to be is chenle’s good girl, ‘cause he treats you so good and makes you feel so loved with attention. mhmm, he’ll eat you out for behaving so obediently, for hours, even. for letting jisung use your cute pussy ‘cause he’s chenle’s best friend, and he can’t help that he’s a loser… that now has a massive crush on chenle’s girl.
ty for liking my writing :) this was fun to write
idol (r. fantasies)
warnings: dubcon, shoe riding, sticking things up your coochie that should probably not be there, idol!haechan x (f) reader ft. idol!mark
wc. 984
jake version posted on my enha account @/ireverie. i’m not plagiarizing myself guys…
haechan thinks of it as an experiment. a mad scientist testing a hypothesis, curious about the inner workings of your mind and the bounds of your adoration for him, wanting to see exactly how far he can stretch your limits before you snap.
he starts mild. it’s an entertaining sight, you orgasming on his shoe, the thin, wet fabric of your panties clinging to the black leather and giving them a luminous shine. your hands had tightened around his thigh as your hips rolled deeper and deeper onto his protected foot and your teeth tangled in the loose fabric of ripped jeans to muffle the sound.
you look ashamed after, embarrassed. this is not how you had imagined meeting him would go, and you don’t want your memory when he eventually leaves to be stained by something so disgusting. the filthy fucking fan that rode his shoe, so desperate to be filled by him.
but haechan tells you that you’re not done. you’re confused, brows stitching together. wordlessly, he kicks out his other foot, giving it a nice tap against the carpet of his hotel room. now do the other one, is his silent command. you swallow the lump in your throat, hoping all the humiliation goes down with it, and begrudgingly switch shoes.
haechan stifles a laugh, not wanting to make you feel any worse than you likely already do. he watches you slowly grind down onto his other shoe, clinging onto his leg for support, your moans louder this time now that you are sensitive from climax. “haechan,” you whimper, burying your face in his pants. it’s so embarrassing.
even though he doesn’t say anything, too observed in monitoring the meek way you rub your needy cunt against his shoe, he gently pats your head in a way that makes your heart hammer and flood with warmth. for a moment, this is not so bad anymore.
but only for a moment, because the climax sneaks up on you again, and your hole throbs with impatience, clamping around nothing but empty space as you try to suppress the wanting. it’s hard, too hard. haechan is hard, for that matter, but he’s having too much fun pushing your buttons to let it end.
the next task is more humiliating than the last. when haechan disappeared into the bathroom, you had no idea what he was going to do, but he returns with his toothbrush in hand. he gestures for you to get on the bed and expectantly pushes it to you. your brows arched, bemused.
“what am i going to do with this?” you ask, weakly meeting his eyes.
“what are you going to do with it?” he repeats, chuckling. he forces the toothbrush into your open hand and curls your fingers around it. “you’re gonna fuck yourself with it.”
you gawk, surprised. haechan is laughing, but it doesn’t feel like he is joking. rather, he seems dead serious. “but haechan,” you start.
“but nothing,” he interrupts, a little rougher than intended. he kisses your cheek to soften his words. “you said you love me, didn’t you?”
“i do, but…”
“were you lying?” he accuses.
your eyes widen. “no, of course not.”
“then do it,” he whispers, this time pressing his lips against yours. it’s brief, but enough to make your heart race. “for me.”
you heave a breath, but not your head. shuffling out of your panties, you push them underneath your ankles and haechan does the honor of tossing them aside. with a few more breaths, you slowly start to push the toothbrush inside, your hand holding the end with the bristles.
it feels like an object that doesn’t belong there, probably because it is, but it’s not particularly uncomfortable or painful, so you continue to move it deeper inside until your sticky walls have coated most of it with your slick.
you wish it’s haechan instead, but you decide it will have to work for now, thrusting the blue and white toothbrush with the image of haechan’s cock in mind, in and out. your mouth parts in gasps, clenching around the base of the brush as you picture haechan making you take every inch.
“that’s it,” haechan coos, pleased. “such a good girl.”
his lips fall from the pulse in your neck to your cold shoulders to your perky chest, taking one of your nipples into his mouth while his finger gently curves around the other. your sounds make his dick jump in his pants, wearing at his self restraint.
your embarrassment hits an all-time peak when mark lets himself in with one of haechan’s extra keycards that you’re too flabbergasted to question why he has.
“johnny hyung sent me to get your vote on what you wanna eat tomorrow after the…,” mark trails off, eyes widening when he notices what’s going on. “you know what? that’s my bad. i shouldn’t have… yeah. i’ll come back later.”
haechan knowingly holds your thighs spread as you instinctively try to shut them, wanting to keep the sight of you on display even if it embarrasses you. “don’t go. stay for the show,” haechan says, nails digging almost painfully into your thighs.
mark hesitates. what haechan does, especially in his own personally allotted free time, is none of his business, after all. but if he wants him to stay, then… “okay,” mark murmurs, reluctant.
“haechan,” you whimper quietly, looking anywhere but mark’s eyes in fear of judgement.
“shh, baby,” haechan whispers, tenderly brushing his fingers through your hair. “don’t be mean to mark, he’s my friend. he deserves a little love, too. i’ll give you what you want in a minute. just be a good girl and be patient for me, okay?”
your cheeks are burning. your heart is thudding. your thoughts are whirling. but what haechan wants, haechan gets. so you nod and whimper, “okay, haechan,” placing the toothbrush back between your fingers.
hi hi hi can you plz do mean dom haechan, like evil as fuck saying the nastiest shit and giving you no say in anything while he fully takes advantage of you
content warnings mean dom!haechan, noncon, dollification, public sex, cockwarming, fingering, pet names (doll), exhibitionism, he is controlling and sort of (very) terrible
don’t like it? don’t read it!
to outsiders, it seemed cute how much haechan doted on you and called you pretty names like doll. and at first, you thought so too. it was adorable to you that your boyfriend wanted to help you pick out your clothes, suggesting ways to wear your hair and makeup, how he’d say you’re his pretty little doll.
but somewhere along the way, that developed into something a bit…more.
you aren’t exactly sure when it changed, but his behavior became a little less doting and a little more controlling in private. every time you were to go out, haechan would need to approve your outfit, if not pick it out himself. it didn’t matter how you felt about it, if he wanted you to wear it, you were going to wear it. he needed to have the final say in everything, all the way down to the under garments you wore.
to everyone else, doll was a cute petname to have as his girlfriend. to you, you knew that it was the truth.
haechan saw you as his doll, his little plaything. he could dress you up however he wanted and you’d do as he says. and when he’s feeling particularly sinister, he could touch you whenever and wherever.
more often than not, he’d have you dressed up in a cute little dress or a skirt that he can easily slip his hand underneath. and it’s no use in fighting him, because you know he’ll always have the upper hand. so you just let him. he’d slip his fingers beneath your skirt, into your panties while sitting at a dinner table with your friends. he’d whisper in your ear about how you belong to him, he can touch you whenever he wants and how your sweet little pussy is always so warm and tight for him. he’d tell you not to moan—“don’t get us caught,” he’d tell you. “fuck toys aren’t supposed to make noise.”
and sometimes, he’d love to have you in his lap. your pretty little dress would conceal the way his cock is buried deep in your pussy. “fuck, tight little cunt squeezing my cock so much, doll. you like that?”
you didn’t dare move. dolls don’t move. dolls are pliant, still, letting their owners control them. so you would sit there, looking at all of the oblivious faces of your friends and strangers in the bar, completely unaware of the way haechan was bouncing his legs just right in order to move you on his cock in a way that doesn’t raise any suspicions.
even as he grinds you down on his cock with purpose, cumming deep inside your dollcunt, you don’t say or do anything. you know that in the end, he’d do what he wanted anyway. you are his doll, his plaything, his fuck toy, and he makes sure that you know your place. whether it’s by actions or words, he always makes sure to remind you that you belong to him.
Riding haechan after concert when he's all hot and sweaty (+ kissing his moles)
haechan x reader. smut drabble.
leaned back in his chair, haechan took in your exposed body as you took over his lap. placing his hands on your hips, he guided you as you rolled your hips on him, his eyes sparkling as he watched your fucked expression.
his white button was now completely unbuttoned, letting his chest be out and exposed to you. his pants were pooled around his ankles while he had completely undressed you, wanting to see all of you. haechan’s sweat collected over his collarbone, sweat from both the concert he had just finished and from the heat of both your bodies. sweat ran down his temple as his warm hand held your waist. you open your eyes to look at him, noticing the way is eyes were half closed as he watched, a smirk on his face. you whined, placing a hand onto his hot skin.
“hyuck,” you say, leaning into him.
“what, baby?” haechan asks, grabbing your hand from off his chest and kissing your palm, “howre you feeling?”
you don’t say anything, too focused on the feeling of him inside of you. leaning into him, you place your lips to the side of his face, kissing the moles of his inner cheek first before making your way all the way up to his temple. haechan moans as you take your mouth up to ear, letting out soft moans as you continue to roll onto his lap. your gesture is so intimate, making feel like he’s losing his mind.
no longer content with staying still and letting you do all the work, haechan thrusts his hips into you, causing you to lean further into him and gasp.
“fuck, baby,” haechan whispers into your ear, easily slipping his way in and out of you. “you’re so wet for me, pretty girl.”
you attach your lips to his hot, sweaty neck, an attempt to stop yourself from being so loud. everyone was in the room next to you while you and haechan hid away in one of the unused dressing rooms. wanting to hear you, haechan grabs your chin, position your face right in front of him.
“look at me,” he says, quickening his pace to watch your face change, “let me hear you.”
you let out a whimper, feeling up his chest. haechan lets his other hand reach for your exposed chest as he massages your breast. before you can let out another sound, he brings your face towards him, swallowing your moans through a kiss. his hands find your hips again, slamming you down onto him as his hips continued ramming into you. his tongue meets your as he continues to feel you up, only pulling away to watch your chest bounce at his movements. he throws his head back at the sight, groaning.
“so good for me, angel.”
this time, you bring your face right into his, letting both your noses touch. you feel him twitch inside of you, knowing he was close to finishing. loving the look his eyes as he lost himself in feeling. you kiss the mole closets to his eye. haechan’s heart tightens at your action, now feeling lost both in pleasure and his love for you.
“please, baby,” you say, not breaking eye contact, “fill me up.”
it only takes haechan to move his hips forward for a few more seconds before he releases, his hips pressed as far as they could go into you. his grip on you tightens as he closes his eyes and buries his hand into your neck, moaning your name. you let your hand come up into his hair, kissing the top of his head. haechan pulls his back to look at you, his eyes now glossed over.
“my pretty girl.”
breeding and bumps. p.js
mdni + nsfw. dubcon breeding (jisung lies abt using a condom) aka jisung can’t help himself. like, it’s not his fault raw feels so good.
oh– fuuuck, jisung whines, swears slipping freely from his lips, ‘s just the tip, but your pussy’s clenching around him so tight, just having him raw for the first time,, sticky mess of your arousal slick coating his hard length, dark pink flushed tip barely past your drooling folds and he can barely move, a glisten of sweat on his pretty face, sungie, more, more, you pout, pretty eyes looking up at him so desperately, feels different, better than usual, but fuck, jisung feels his sanity lessening with every inch he fills you with, it’s all you he’s feeling, no useless 0.2 mm rubber barrier, so warm and wet, sucking him in your gushy cunt and it feels a little too good, why’d he even use condoms in the first place?
oh yeah. ‘cause you’re not on birth control. did you know he lied about wearing a condom?
still, it doesn’t stop him,, distracted by the stretch as jisung bottoms out, panting desperately into the crook of your neck as he laces your skin with sloppy hickeys, sucking dark bruises as your nails scratch red marks down his back, messy thrusts and clumsy fucking, lewd slaps of skin on skin so loud. and when you whimper his name, begging him for more… he can forget the little bit of guilt h has for lying.
ngh– ‘m sorry– jisung moans, unable to control himself as he cums, warm cream filling your insides, his raspy voice mumbling incoherent apologies cause he knows he wasn’t supposed to,, but fuck, feels so heavenly, pussy milking his cock of every drop of cum, like your pretty body needs him, desperate to do what it was made for,, fuck, jisung can just feel it, the way your pussy’s full of him as his hips slowly thrust into yours, now that it’s done, might as well make sure you’re completely his, make sure his cream’s deep in you, breed you up, hmm?
sungie, you whimper, you can’t.. but your body’s just so needy for him, isn’t it? cause all you can think about is being his, how good it feels to be bred so full,, oh, losing coherent thought. and jisung swears he has heart eyes, looking down at the mess he’s made of you, bedsheets stained with his cum as it drips out around the base of his cock, a sticky mess of cum and arousal glistening on your swollen folds, stretched out around his length,,
his finger wiping away the string of spit on your lower lip, until his gaze lands on the little bulge in your tummy, the imprint of his dick deep inside, so deep it makes you look so small and stuffed full,, and jisung feels like he’s fallen in love all over again, your whimpers so cute to his ears as he presses your tummy in with his fingertip,, tracing the little bulge,, but what if it was a little bump? a bump made by being bred by him. not like it could happen,,, but now, jisung wants it.
you’ll forgive him, won’t you?
not proofread bc i’m tired and it’s too early for this lol
dirty girl. l.hc
(nsfw + mdni) dubcon/noncon elements
hyuckie, his name mumbled into kisses, pressed up to every inch of him when you’re straddling his lap, making out at some godforsaken hour, his pretty lips slick with your spit, one hand resting on your hip where your shirt has ridden up, perched on top and all over him as he leans back, legs spread comfortably. and fuck, it’s like you’re pretending that his fat bulge isn’t straining against his sweats, your clothed pussy pressed to him through the layer of flimsy fabric. your pretty lips clumsily moving against his, fuck, you couldn’t possibly only want kisses when you’re practically rutting against his hard on.
but your words say otherwise, hyuck, i— i don’t know, your whine pitching in confusion, when his hand cups your clothed pussy, drool smeared across your lips as you pull away, only for his hold on your waist to tighten, locking you in close without an escape, flinching at the feeling on his palm pressing into your panties. and maybe he’s never fucked you before, but you’re lying, your panties soaked in his palm of his hand, fuck, he’s so fucking hard, surely you can tell, humping him like a dog in heat from just kisses?
come on, baby, haechan whispers, licking his bottom lip enticingly, i know you want it, deftly slipping a finger in, cold against your warm, wet folds, as your gasps cry out, only for your cries to be muffled by rough kisses, trapped in his lap as your breath is stolen harshly, your eyes clenched shut at the foreign sensation of his fingers rubbing your folds, pushing in with slick sounds of your arousal, fuck, you feel untouched, the way your pussy clenches and throbs around his fingers, a dripping mess all over his hand. your hands grasping at his shoulders, slipping against his loose t shirt, what cute muffled noises you make, and he’s only at two fingers, your resistance weakening as he curls his fingers deeper in your pussy, lewd squelches of arousal as it coats his hand, heat spreading beneath your skin as an unfamiliar sensation knots in your stomach, clinging to him and panting like a pet as haechan coerces an orgasm out of you, made such an embarrassing mess for a virgin, didn’t you?
his hands dripping with slick, chest heaving for breaths and he’s so unfazed, amused even,, especially when he’s ruined you, clothes rumpled and hair messy, lips swollen and bitten reddish, unable to catch your breath even as his fingers pull out, sticky mess coating his palm, pretty tears welling up in your dazed eyes, his wet hand grasping your chin and forcing you to look at haechan straight in the eyes. who knew you were such a dirty girl?
this one has been in drafts too long lol idk if i feel like making it longer atp
more pervy bf jisung plss🙏🏻 I live for that
store policy. p.js
(nsfw + mdni) pervy bf and a changing room? yes please. not proofread btw
it’s been five minutes, and jisung’s not quite sure if his waistband tuck is going to do it for him anymore. like, raging boner kind of boner. and it’s really not his fault. sort of. but as he wipes his sweaty palms down his pants, he knows it deep down. he’s such a pervert. and it’s becoming a problem every time you’re around.
it’s everything about you that drives him mad, so insanely lustful his face blushes cherry red, blood rushing south as his hands sweat trying to hold back his own desires. and he got here five minutes ago, cluelessly following your text instructions to meet up at some trendy clothing store, feeling so out of place as he wandered to the back where the changing rooms were. he sat down for five minutes, and now, jisung’s fucked.
“ji, what do you think?” you ask, biting your lip in thought, twisting around to get a better look at the rather minuscule skirt, unknowingly giving your poor boyfriend a more than generous view of your panties, flimsy fabric tight against the curve of your cute ass, and just for a moment, jisung swears he can see the outline of your intimate skin, sending him down a mental spiral as he tries to avoid looking too closely,, dirty mind already out of his control.
imagining the way he could rip those flimsy, useless panties away, tie the torn fabric around your wrists… his hands filled with the plush of your thighs, whimpering his name, “ji, ji, ji—!”and then the illusion breaks, and he’s blankly staring at a wall as you tap his shoulder. “are you paying attention?” you pout, as jisung fumbles for a coherent thought. “oh— um, yeah, it’s nice—“ he nods, the dirty feeling of shame already washing over him as he silently swears at himself, keep it together—! you haven’t been dating long enough that he’d like to admit… to being a huge pervert.
well, if he says so, you’re pleased. and so it continues, a try on and your boyfriend seemingly zoning out, only to pop back into reality with a tap to the shoulder, flustered reply, and an awkward cough. he’s blushing rather red. maybe because he’s the only boy in the store? you glance around, but the store has mostly cleared out from the afternoon rush, with workers staring at the clock as it nears closing. “one more, then we can check out?” you ask, and jisung gives an absent minded nod, looking shyer than ever, his long legs uncomfortably crossed as he plays with a loose string on the bench cushion.
god, he’s going to lose it. his lower lip chewed raw, long legs really trying to cover up his unbearably obvious bulge, at this rate, jisung’s not even sure if he can drive you home without at least an emergency jerk off. and while he knows you’d probably want to help him, it would just be so embarrassing, a boner just from clothes? what a loser.
“jisung, can you help me? hurry!” you call, causing his heart to rapidly race several beats too fast. just… don’t be a pervert about it—! “i– okay, baby.” tugging the changing room curtain aside, his tall frame vanishing behind it for a moment before you’ve teasingly trapped him against the wall, dress half zipped up in the back, enticingly hanging off your back as your fingers reach down, tracing the rather prominent bulge in his pants. “i— it’s not what it looks lik— you didn’t want to tell me?” you giggle, your tall, broad shouldered boyfriend completely wrapped around your finger as jisung blushes, his ears flushed as he stifles a moan, the slow, quiet drag of his zipper gliding down as you tug the zip, painfully stiff cock barely held by his boxers, a wet stain darkening a spot of fabric. “ji, if you wanted to fuck me, you can always say so,” you whisper, grasping the collar of his shirt to tug him lower, “i want you, too.”
your fingers slipping down, wrapping around the width of his cock, thumb pressed against a prominent vein as you slowly pump his length, his pretty lips parting as pants slip out, almost begging for a kiss as his hazy eyes meet yours. languid, sloppy kisses, his hips rutting into your hand, his tall frame awkwardly leaned over yours as jisung relaxes with your touch, so pent up it barely takes anything for his whimpering pants to morph into his pretty, needy moans, sticky cum spurting over your fingers and on the hem of the dress, creamy white ropes of seed making such a mess…
“not gonna give me any?” you whine, licking your fingers, god, he’s so weak to everything, jisung’s needy hands clumsily pushing you into the wall, bent over at a perfect angle for him, his words almost slurred in his lusty daze, “please,,,?” and who are you to say no… he’s so pretty like this, his shirt sticking to his skin, pants unzipped and his heavy, pale cock flushed pink at the tip, seeping cum, face flushed like a drunk man (well…) parted lips and chest heaving with breaths, god, he’s so— “fuck me please, sungie.”
muffled cries barely audible through his hand, wrapped ‘round your lips, lewd, slaps of skin on skin, clothes rustling in such obvious noise, jisung’s face buried in the crook of your neck as his free hand grasps at every inch of you, your waist, hips, trying to keep a coherent hold on reality, heated pants hot on your skin, burning through your collarbones as your pulse races beneath his lips, god, what a mess, scent of sex so heavy in the air…
but neither of you could care less, what, so full of cock you can’t think, jisung so pussy drunk he can barely manage coherent words, like a crushed butterfly, makeup and hair all ruined as his rough pace messily slams into your pussy, sticky with smeared cum and arousal, so dirty, aren’t you? ‘s only until he’s stuffed you full, whimpering mindlessly as hot cream fills you up, jisung becomes even clingier, every inch of his body pressed to yours, breath hitching, feels so good to be milked of his cum, hmm? oh, it’s such a mess… all you can manage to say is his name,, about to until an untimely knock comes against the side.
“excuse me… i’m afraid we will have to ask you to leave for… violating store policy.”

