bsfs brother!Heeseung x f!reader - when you ask him to teach you how to masturbate. (pure porn with plot. MDNI 18+, explicit, masturbation, cunnilingus, phone sex, ANGST, fluff too so its fine.)
“If she’s not cumming, she’s not listening to her pussy.”
“And if she won’t listen…”
“I’ll make her.”
You’ve always had a hate-hate relationship with masturbation.
Not the “haha I don’t know what I’m doing” kind. Not the shy, innocent kind. The kind where you tried, over and over again, and every time it ended in that same aching, pathetic way—panties soaked, fingers numb, pussy throbbing, and absolutely nothing to show for it.
No finish. No orgasm. Not even a fucking twitch of satisfaction.
You rubbed and rubbed, like everyone said to. You found your clit. You circled it. Pressed it. Flicked it. Tried soft and slow, then fast and desperate. Tried with spit, with lotion, with fucking coconut oil once. But nothing ever felt right. Just this frustrating hum of almost. Like your body was teetering on the edge of something big and just… refused to jump.
You’d end up sore. Agitated. Your legs would shake, but not the good kind. Your pussy would swell, throbbing like she was mocking you for trying.
It made you feel broken. Or worse—boring. Like your body was wired wrong. Like you’d missed the most basic feminine skill everyone else seemed to be born with.
Girls talked about cumming like it was breathing. Like they could do it in five minutes flat with one hand and a good imagination. You’d hear them talk about shaking through the sheets, arching off the bed, seeing stars—and you’d smile and nod and laugh along, pretending like you got it, like you knew what it was like to get wrecked by your own hand.
You’d never even come close.
You tried toys. You bought a vibrator and nearly cried when it did nothing but make your arms go numb. You tried grinding on pillows until the friction made you raw. You tried porn. You even tried watching yourself once in the mirror like some kind of twisted self-help therapy. Nothing worked.
You’d touch and touch and chase and beg for it in your head—please, just this once, just let me finish, please—and still end up breathless, sticky, empty.
You’d cry sometimes. Just a little. From the frustration of it. From the absolute humiliation of being so fucking horny and not being able to do anything about it.
You hated that about yourself. Hated the way your body seemed to enjoy the build and not the release. Hated the way your clit would throb for attention and then get overwhelmed the second you gave her any. Hated the need. The noise. The mess with no reward.
But the worst part—the actual worst part—was how much you still wanted it. How much you still tried. Like a dog chasing its own tail. Like some needy little loser who couldn’t leave it alone.
You were eighteen, for fuck’s sake. You were supposed to know your body by now. You were supposed to be able to make yourself cum. You were supposed to own your pleasure.
Instead, you were stuck with a pussy that got wet at the idea of being touched and then shut down the second you did.
It made you feel fucking insane.
So you gave up. Mostly. You still touched yourself when you needed to—when it built up too much and made your thighs ache. But it wasn’t about cumming anymore. It was maintenance. A reset button. A pressure valve. You did it in the dark, quietly, quickly, just to shut your body up.
You didn’t even think about pleasure anymore.
You didn’t dare.
-
Evie—Heejoo, but you only ever called her that when you wanted to piss her off—was your best friend in the world. Ride-or-die since ninth grade, bonded over a shared hatred of your chem teacher and the fact that neither of you fit into your school’s carefully manicured social circles.
Where you were sharp and quick with your mouth, she was soft-spoken and wide-eyed, just sweet enough to disarm anyone who got too close. You balanced each other out. She calmed your storm. You stirred hers.
You were over at her house so often it barely felt like visiting anymore. You knew the code to their garage door. You had your own toothbrush in her bathroom. Her mom kept your favorite cereal in the pantry like clockwork. You even had a drawer in her room, mostly old hoodies and stolen pajama shorts that smelled like her perfume.
It wasn’t unusual for you to spend the weekend there, or three nights in a row, or an entire spring break. Her parents didn’t mind. They liked knowing where you both were—liked having an extra body in the house, even if they never said it out loud.
And then there was Heeseung.
Her older brother. Four years up. Barely a presence.
When you were younger, he was just the older guy who sulked in his room and stole her chargers. Sometimes he’d give you a ride when Evie asked, sometimes he’d walk past you in the kitchen and grunt a greeting, but that was about it. He was there, and then he wasn’t—off to college, off to god knows where, vanishing from your life as quickly as he’d drifted through it.
You had a tiny crush on him once, freshman year. The kind that sparked quick and stupid, fed by his lazy smirk and the way he wore his backwards cap while fixing his car in the driveway. It died fast—suffocated by time and distance and his complete disinterest in acknowledging your existence beyond a nod or a side-eye.
By the time he moved back home post-grad, you barely noticed. He was older now, busier, always in his room with the door closed, voice low behind it, like he was on constant phone calls or late-night games or… something.
You didn’t think about him much. He was just Evie’s brother. Part of the background. White noise.
Your focus was always Evie.
She was the one who held your hair when you puked. The one who lent you a dress before every shitty date. The one who knocked on the bathroom door when you were taking too long and said, “You better not be edge-cumming again, bitch,” like it was the most normal sentence in the world.
She talked about sex like it was just part of the air. Blunt. Effortless. She could make herself cum in three minutes flat. She said it with confidence, like breathing.
You hated how easily it came to her. You loved her anyway.
You always felt safe in her house. Safe in her bed, tangled up under a shared blanket, legs overlapping like twins born too far apart. Her room smelled like vanilla and lip gloss and safety. It felt like yours.
-
The house settled around you like it always did—quiet, gentle, familiar in a way that made your muscles loosen and your brain drift. Even the silence felt padded here. The hum of the fridge downstairs, the occasional pop of cooling pipes, the subtle click of the thermostat shifting—background noise you’d grown so used to, it almost felt like home.
Evie was out cold beside you, one arm thrown carelessly across your stomach, her breath hot against your ribs. She always slept fast after wine. She always slept on you, too—like her body never quite understood boundaries even after all these years. You didn’t mind. It was comforting, the weight of her. Like a grounding wire for the anxious, electric static building low in your belly.
Sleep wasn’t coming for you, though.
You’d been lying there in the dark for the better part of an hour, phone dimmed to nearly unreadable brightness, eyes burning from the glow. Nothing on your feed caught your attention. You’d scrolled past the same content three times already, thumb swiping out of pure muscle memory.
Something restless twisted beneath your skin, persistent and irritating. Not quite horniness, not quite insomnia—just that same pulsing tension that had been sitting heavy between your legs all night. Like your body was trying to tell you something without using words. You shifted under the blanket, trying not to disturb Evie, thighs pressing tighter together to relieve the dull ache. It only made it worse.
The urge to do something about it had been growing for hours.
You’d thought about sneaking off to the bathroom. You’d done it before—quiet, quick, businesslike. Just enough friction to take the edge off before falling asleep, still unsatisfied but too tired to care. The idea barely tempted you anymore. You already knew how it would end: the usual mess of spit-slick fingers, your clit swollen and sore, pussy wet and pulsing and still refusing to give you anything real.
Just the thought of trying again made you clench your jaw.
It was pathetic, the way your body teased you. Wet for no reason. Needy without payout. Over and over again, like clockwork. Like punishment.
You turned your phone off with a quiet sigh and let the screen go black.
For a moment, all you could hear was the creak of the floorboards expanding under the weight of a settling house. A branch tapping against the window. The subtle drag of Evie’s breathing. You stared at the ceiling, tired but tense, willing yourself to shut down the frustration building behind your ribs.
A man’s voice, deep and casual, barely audible through the cracked bedroom doors. Not enough to make out words. Not yet. Just the soft cadence of speech, rising and falling like a secret being shared too close to the edge of the world.
Heeseung’s door was open. Or cracked. Just enough to let a sliver of sound spill out. You hadn’t even realized he was home tonight.
Your body stilled, like it always did when you felt watched—except this time, you were the one doing the watching. Listening, technically. Just barely.
There was a pause, then a laugh. Not his. Another voice. Someone else. Male. Maybe one of his friends from school, the ones who came and went without warning. You couldn’t place the sound, and you didn’t care.
Your focus sharpened the second Heeseung spoke again.
“It’s not that hard. Girls make it harder than it is."
“If she’s not cumming, she’s not listening to her pussy.”
The sentence dropped like a stone in the middle of your chest.
Not whispered. Not dirty. Just… stated. Like a law. Like fact.
Your fingers flexed unconsciously against the blanket. Heat flushed your neck and settled low in your belly, familiar and unwelcome. You didn’t move. Couldn’t.
There was something about the way he said it. Not performative. Not like he was trying to sound cool. Just calm. Confident. Like the kind of guy who got women off without effort and never thought twice about why.
Every hair on your arm lifted. He didn’t stop there.
“And if she won’t listen…I’ll make her.”
No laughter followed that. No teasing. Just a quiet moment where it hung in the air, unchallenged.
You lay frozen in the dark, heart thudding, mouth slightly open. Your legs ached under the blanket, thighs tense and pressed together. You weren’t just turned on—you were caught. Cornered by something you weren’t supposed to hear and couldn’t let go of.
Something clicked. Not like a revelation, not some dramatic internal monologue, just… a shift. A tilt in the floor beneath your feet. A door opening in a room you didn’t realize you were trapped in.
You didn’t even know what you wanted in that moment.
But for the first time in your life, you wondered—really wondered—what your body would feel like under instructions that weren’t your own.
-
You tried not to think about it for the rest of the day. Swore you wouldn’t spiral.
You kept the overheard words tucked somewhere tight in your chest, smothered under fake laughter and half-listened stories while Evie walked you through her latest dating app disasters. You made it through brunch, through an entire Target run, through two face masks and one trashy Netflix documentary—and you almost convinced yourself you were over it.
But when the house quieted again that night—when Evie fell asleep curled up on the far side of the bed with her arm draped over a pillow instead of you—you gave in.
You waited a while. Just in case she wasn’t fully out. The kind of sleep that could crack open with the creak of floorboards.
And when her breathing evened out, soft and deep and oblivious, you slid out from under the blanket, grabbed your phone, and slipped into the hallway.
The bathroom door closed with a soft click behind you.
You didn’t turn the light on right away. Just stood there for a second in the dark, breathing.
The air was cooler here. The tiles cold against your feet. The smell of Evie’s shampoo still clung to the room—vanilla and something floral, sticky-sweet. You stared at your reflection in the mirror above the sink, barely visible in the silver sliver of hallway light. Your face looked flushed. Too open. Like something had already been peeled back.
You sat on the closed toilet lid, tugged your hoodie over your thighs, and pulled your phone into your lap.
No buildup. No browsing. You knew what you were looking for.
The video you always came back to. The closest thing you’d ever found to what worked. A deep voice. Slow instructions. Just audio—nothing to watch, nothing to focus on but sound.
It wasn’t him, but it didn’t have to be. Not yet.
Your underwear stuck to the heat between your thighs as you slid it down. Still wet from the tension that had been building since that morning. From the second you saw Heeseung in the kitchen and felt your legs press together automatically.
The wetness should’ve been a good sign.
But you already knew how this would go.
You played the video. Turned the volume down low. Closed your eyes.
Your fingers found your clit easily. Rubbed gentle circles, the way the voice said. You tried to breathe through it, tried to slow down, to listen.
There was too much pressure too soon. Your skin twitched with every touch. The angle was wrong. The rhythm never quite synced. Your body jerked between feeling almost there and feeling absolutely nothing.
You tried harder.
Tried picturing something—someone. His voice. His mouth. The way he looked at you this morning like you weren’t just Evie’s friend, like he saw something else.
That made your fingers move faster. Your hips twitch up from the seat, trying to find something—anything—that would tip you over.
But it never came.
Just heat. Just sweat. Just the same stinging tension in your thighs and the wave that built up, crested, and refused to break.
Your hand dropped. Your chest heaved with a breath that sounded too much like a sob.
You sat there for a full minute in silence, pussy swollen, twitching, soaking your hand—and still nothing. You hadn’t cum. Not even close.
Not even fucking close.
Your palm dragged across your inner thigh as you reached for toilet paper, the wet slick of your own arousal catching against your skin, obscene and bitter and useless. You wiped your hand clean, flushed, washed it under the tap in a daze.
Your reflection stared back at you in the mirror, flushed cheeks, wild eyes, bottom lip bitten raw.
This wasn’t working.
You couldn’t do this by yourself. Not anymore.
The shame didn’t even hit you until you opened the door, stepped back into the hall, and looked toward Heeseung’s room.
You didn’t remember walking from the bathroom to his door. Not really. Your body moved on instinct, fingers still damp with failure, breath shallow and uneven like you’d been running—not down a hallway, but in circles inside your own skin. Everything felt hot and wrong, like you were standing too close to something dangerous and still leaning closer.
The light from under his door was soft, pale blue. The kind of glow that came from a computer screen and sleepless hours. It made the hallway feel colder. Your skin felt clammy beneath your hoodie, thighs still tacky with your own arousal, pulse thudding hard behind your ears. You didn’t even try to calm yourself before raising your hand. There wasn’t enough time. There wasn’t enough anything left.
You knocked.
Soft, quick. Regretted it immediately.
Nothing.
The silence on the other side stretched just long enough to make you feel stupid. You should’ve gone back to Evie’s room. Should’ve locked the bathroom door and buried your face in your hands like you always did. Should’ve swallowed the shame and left it to rot where it always did: at the bottom of your throat.
Your hand was already dropping when the doorknob turned.
Heeseung opened the door halfway, leaning into the frame, and for a second you couldn’t speak. You weren’t expecting him to look like that—hoodie sleeves pushed up to his forearms, collar askew, hair a damp mess like he’d run his hands through it one too many times. His sweatshorts hung low on his hips, legs bare, skin flushed warm like he’d just come out of the shower… or just come. You had no way of knowing which. And it made your brain short-circuit either way.
He didn’t look surprised to see you. Just confused.
His eyes dragged down your body with a slow kind of calculation, and you swore you saw the moment they caught on the way your thighs were pressed together, your bare legs twitching under the hem of your hoodie. The way your breath hitched in your throat. The way your fingers—still wet, still trembling—curled tighter at your side.
He blinked once, brows pulling in slightly.
“You good?”
The question was simple, quiet. But it hit like an echo in a room with no furniture. You were not good. Not even close.
Your voice came out before you could soften it. Flat, direct. “Do you have a girlfriend?”
He blinked again. Caught off guard this time.
“…What?”
“I just need to know,” you said quickly, words tumbling over each other. “Before I say anything. It matters.”
He stared at you for a beat, mouth twitching like he wasn’t sure if he should be amused or suspicious.
“No. I don’t.”
You exhaled like someone had untied a knot inside your chest.
“Fuck.”
His eyes narrowed slightly. “What?”
“If you said yes,” you muttered, eyes darting to the floor, “I would’ve had an excuse not to ask you.”
That made him pause.
He shifted his weight, crossed his arms over his chest, leaned into the doorframe like he was settling in. His voice was a little lower when he asked, “Ask me what?”
Your whole body burned. There was no easy way to say it. No casual phrasing. No safe distance between you and the truth anymore. You didn’t have the energy to dance around it.
“You said something last night,” you started, forcing yourself to look at him. “About girls who can’t finish. About how they’re not listening to their bodies.”
He watched you carefully. No expression, just the slow, measured study of a man waiting for the rest.
“I heard it,” you added. “By accident. But it’s been stuck in my head. And I thought—I don’t know, I thought maybe you were right.”
Still nothing. Just his gaze crawling over your face, down to your knees, like he was trying to see where this was going before letting himself speak.
You swallowed, the taste of failure still thick in your throat. “I tried again tonight. Bathroom. Just now. I’ve been trying for years, and it’s always the same. Nothing works. I can’t finish. I touch myself, and it just—goes nowhere.”
Your cheeks burned. You didn’t even know why you were telling him all this. You barely knew the guy. The last time you’d had a real conversation was probably three birthdays ago when he offered you a ride and you said no because he smelled like weed and fuckboy cologne.
But here you were. Standing in front of him like some half-dressed, sweat-slick confession, spilling everything.
And he still hadn’t said a word.
Your next breath shook as it left you.
“I don’t want you to touch me,” you said, quieter now. “I just want to ask… if you’d tell me what to do.”
That got something out of him. A small breath through his nose, not quite a laugh, not quite disbelief. His eyes dropped—lower this time—to your legs again, to the edge of your hoodie, to the bare skin flushed and prickling under the hallway air.
He nodded once toward you, chin tilting. “Your hand’s still wet.”
You froze.
His voice was low, unreadable. “You tried that hard, huh?”
You didn’t answer. You couldn’t.
He stepped back.
Just a few inches. Just enough to open the door wider. The light from inside poured out around him, cool and soft and full of static.
He held your gaze.
“Come in. Close the door behind you.”
The door shuts with a soft click behind you, and just like that, the house disappears. Evie’s room, the hallway, your entire carefully contained world—it all drops away. There’s only the low glow of his monitor casting pale blue light across the carpet and the quiet hum of something electric in the corner, like the room itself is holding its breath.
You hover near the door for a second, not sure what to do with your hands, your legs, your shame.
Heeseung’s already sitting, legs wide in his desk chair, turned toward you like he was waiting the whole night for this. He shifts, pushes himself up slightly, and drags the chair forward—lazily, unbothered—until it sits right in front of the bed. Close enough that if you spread your legs, he’d have a front-row seat.
Then he flips the chair around, straddling it backwards like some cocky delinquent in detention, arms crossed over the backrest, chin resting casually on top. His expression doesn’t change. He just watches you.
“Go ahead,” he says, voice calm and low, like this is just another Tuesday night. “Sit.”
You make your way to the bed, legs tense, breath shallow, and perch at the edge like it might bite. Your thighs clench on instinct, hoodie pulled low, trying to shield what you already know he’s seen. You’re still warm from the bathroom. Still soaked. Still aching.
His eyes drift down. Slow. Lazy. No shame.
You fidget.
Heeseung doesn’t move. “Don’t get shy on me now. You came in here asking for a masturbation lesson, not a bedtime story.”
Your lips twitch. You almost laugh. Almost.
He lifts his chin. “Tell me what you usually do.”
The question lands harder than it should. Not because it’s dirty, but because it’s so simple.
You blink. “Like… where I touch?”
“Yeah.”
You hesitate. “I usually just go straight to my clit.”
“Figures.” He doesn’t miss a beat. “And then what? Rub the fuck out of it ‘til it gets sore and wonder why it doesn’t work?”
Your mouth falls open in a small gasp. “Excuse me?”
He shrugs one shoulder, unbothered. “Don’t take it personal. That’s what most girls do. It’s not your fault you think the goal is speed over sense.”
You don’t respond, but your silence is answer enough.
He leans in a little, forearms resting on the chair back, gaze glued to your bare thighs. There’s no hunger in it—not yet. Just observation. Like he’s assessing you.
“If your pussy had a voice,” he says smoothly, “she’d be screaming at you to chill the fuck out.”
You’re quiet for a long second. Because the worst part is… he’s not wrong.
He watches you squirm, and something like amusement passes over his features. Not cruel, but smug.
“Take your time,” he says, gentler now. “You rush her, she locks up. Doesn’t matter how wet you are.”
“…She?” you murmur, lifting a brow.
Heeseung shrugs again, like it’s obvious. “Yeah. She.” His eyes flick to yours. “You don’t gotta name her or write poetry about her, but you should probably stop treating her like a vending machine.”
Your laugh breaks before you can stop it. Quick and sharp, nerves bleeding out of your throat. “You’re so annoying.”
“And yet, you’re still here,” he says with a smirk, eyes dark. “Go on. Show me how you start.”
Everything tightens. You feel the weight of his voice low in your belly.
You don’t move right away.
He raises a brow. “You said you didn’t want me to touch you. That’s cool. But I need to see what you’re doing wrong.”
Your breath hitches.
Your hand moves on instinct—slow, shaky—and dips beneath the hem of your hoodie, then under the band of your panties. You’re already wet. Embarrassingly wet. And when your fingers graze over your clit, you flinch. It’s too sensitive. Too much. Your hips jerk a little, and you pretend not to notice the way his eyes follow the motion.
You rub. Once. Twice. It’s not bad. It’s what you always do.
But still—nothing clicks.
Heeseung tilts his head. “You’re too stiff.”
“I’m nervous,” you admit quietly.
“Don’t be.” His voice drops half an octave. “You look hot.”
The way he says it—it doesn’t sound like a compliment. Just a fact. Like he’s telling you what time it is. Like your soaked fingers and clenched thighs are something he’s been picturing all night.
“You’re thinking too much,” he adds. “Trying to force it instead of feel it.”
Your hand stills.
He leans forward slightly, his voice quieter now, more intimate. “Try this. Press your hand flat. Just hold her. No rubbing. No tapping. Just… feel her.”
You hesitate, then obey.
The flat of your hand settles between your legs, heat blooming up your arm from the contact. Your whole body clenches around it.
“Feel that?”
You nod. Barely.
“That’s what she likes,” he murmurs. “You’ve been poking at her like she’s a fucking keyboard. No wonder she’s not putting out.”
You let out a breathy laugh—half scandalized, half aroused. “You’re unbelievable.”
“And you’re soaking through your panties,” he says, deadpan.
Your breath catches. Heeseung doesn’t laugh. Doesn’t look away.
He sits there like he’s got all the time in the world. Like he’s doing you a favor. Like he’s enjoying this. You’re not even sure he’s hard yet—but he will be. You can feel it building. Between you. In you.
He lets the moment hang.
Then: “Now—slow circles. Don’t speed up unless she tells you to.”
“She doesn’t talk,” you whisper, teasing without confidence.
His gaze is heavy. Steady.
“She does,” he says, voice like heat sliding under your skin. “You just haven’t been listening.”
The room feels hotter now.
Not just the air—your skin, your mouth, your thighs. Sweat clings to the backs of your knees, damp beneath the bunched-up hoodie, and your panties are so wet they’re practically glued to one thigh. Your hips keep twitching without your permission, rolling up slightly with every pass of your fingers. It’s not graceful. It’s not some porn fantasy. It’s messy and uneven and real, and Heeseung is watching every second of it like it’s the only thing worth watching.
You keep thinking you should feel embarrassed. Ashamed. You’re spread open on his bed, hand stuffed between your legs, whining softly every time you stroke a little too hard and have to ease back again—but you’re too far gone now to stop. Your cheeks are flushed, lashes wet, lips parted, and you can’t look away from him.
He hasn’t blinked once.
Heeseung is still straddling the backward chair, elbows resting on the top, chin on one hand like this is casual. Normal. Like you’re just some half-naked girl jerking off in front of him for practice and he’s your substitute teacher for the night.
The only thing that’s changed is his posture.
His knees are spread wider than before. His forearms are tense. One hand grips the edge of the chair a little tighter every time your body jerks, and you don’t miss the way his jaw flexes every time your breath stutters or your voice cracks.
You’re doing this to him.
But not enough.
Not enough to make it stop hurting. Not enough to make the ache go away. Not enough to finish.
You’re trying. God, you’re trying.
Your fingers rub in slow circles, not too fast now. You’re listening. You are. But your body keeps tensing at the edge, like it’s scared to fall off the cliff it’s been building for years. Your hand’s cramping. Your clit throbs. Your stomach clenches like you’re close—and then it dips, again and again.
It’s good. So good.
But it’s not enough.
You choke on a frustrated sound, somewhere between a sob and a moan, and your free hand fists the blanket beneath you like it’s the only thing keeping you grounded.
Heeseung speaks, finally, voice low and steady. “Still rushing her.”
“I’m not,” you whisper.
“You are. I can see it.”
You shake your head, breath stuttering. “I’m not trying to—I swear, I’m—” You gasp. “It’s just—it’s not—”
You stop. Words catch in your throat. Your hips are rocking now, involuntarily, chasing a sensation that keeps pulling away the second you get close. Your fingers are wet, your pussy’s pulsing, and it still feels like you’re just rubbing up against a wall.
“It’s not enough,” you breathe out, broken. “I—I can’t—fuck—she’s not listening.”
Heeseung leans forward slightly, something sharp flashing in his eyes.
“Oh, she’s listening,” he says. “You’re just not talking to her the right way.”
You whimper. “Then tell me what to say.”
That makes his mouth twitch—just barely. Like he’s been waiting for that.
“Tell me what she’s feeling first.”
“I—” Your voice cracks. “She’s tight. Warm. I feel her—pulsing. Like she wants something but—she’s not opening.”
He tilts his head slightly, gaze dark. “She wants to be filled.”
You nod.
“No,” he says. “Say it.”
Your chest heaves. Your hand hasn’t stopped moving, rubbing slow, desperate circles around your clit. “She wants to be filled.”
“Say it like you mean it.”
“She wants to be fucking filled,” you whine. “She’s throbbing—she’s soaking—fuck, I can feel her squeezing nothing.”
Heeseung exhales slowly, eyes flicking down between your legs again.
“There you go,” he murmurs. “Now she’s talking.”
Your fingers glide lower, catching more slick and sliding back up. Everything’s soaked. You’re dripping down onto the sheets, and your thighs are trembling from the strain of keeping your hips lifted just right.
“She needs more,” you pant. “She’s clenching—she’s starving—”
Heeseung’s hand flexes around the edge of the chair again. His voice drops, almost to a growl. “So feed her.”
You moan—high and breathy—and press harder, circling your clit faster now, the way your body wants. Your lips are wet, your fingers slipping, but it doesn’t matter. Everything is slick and hot and alive.
“You’re soaked,” he mutters, eyes burning into you. “Look at your fucking fingers.”
You do. It’s obscene. Your hand shines in the light, your fingers coated in slick. You barely recognize your own body like this. Ruined. Responsive.
“She’s begging,” he says softly. “And you’re finally listening.”
You whine, eyes squeezing shut. Your free hand presses against your lower belly, trying to hold the heat in. Your pussy twitches at the pressure.
“She’s so fucking greedy,” you gasp. “She won’t stop pulling—I can’t—I can’t keep up—”
“You don’t have to,” he says. “She knows what she’s doing. Let her take it.”
You don’t even realize how loud you’ve gotten until you hear yourself moan again—shameless, cracked open, shaking from the inside out.
Your legs spread wider. You’re not trying to hide anymore. Not from him. Not from yourself.
You’re right there.
You’re going to break.
He’s just watching. Like it’s his favorite thing he’s ever seen.
You’re right on the edge, and this time it’s not teasing.
It’s sharp. Fast. Inevitable.
Your legs are trembling now, hips jerking with every motion, and your fingers are soaked—slipping against your clit, coating your inner thighs, dripping down the crease of your ass like your body’s trying to fuck itself open. Every stroke sends another wave of tension through you, and there’s no holding it anymore. Your body is begging. Your pussy’s leaking, twitching, clenching around nothing—and Heeseung watches like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
You don’t even realize you’re moaning until you hear it echo back at you in the small room. High-pitched. Desperate. Wet.
The sound of your pussy is louder now too. Sticky and obscene, each rub slicker than the last. You can hear it every time you roll your hips into your palm.
Heeseung doesn’t say a word for a second too long.
You lift your head, eyes glazed over, panting.
His eyes are darker now. Half-lidded. Focused on your pussy like he’s reading it better than your face.
He shifts in his chair. Spreads his knees wider. His hand dips into the front of his sweatshorts, slow and casual, like he can’t ignore it anymore. You catch a glimpse of his fingers wrapping around himself—and your breath catches so hard your vision blurs.
He’s so hard.
His voice comes out deeper. Filthy. Measured like it’s the only thing anchoring him in the room.
“Look at that messy little cunt.”
Your body jerks at the word. You’ve never heard it said like that. Never felt it hit like that.
Heeseung strokes himself once, slow and firm under the fabric.
“She’s drooling all over your fingers. So fucking hungry. Bet she’s never been this loud for you before.”
“She hasn’t,” you breathe. “She never—she never—”
“You’ve been starving her,” he says, still jerking himself lazily. “Touching her like she’s a problem instead of a fucking meal.”
Your hand speeds up, and he sees it. Hears the slap of slick. You’re humping into your fingers now, sloppy and desperate and so close you could scream.
Heeseung leans forward, one elbow braced against the back of the chair.
“You wanna cum, baby?”
You nod frantically, but it’s not enough.
“Use your words.”
Your voice comes out cracked. “Yes. Please—I wanna cum—I need it—”
“Need what?” he pushes.
“I need her to fucking break,” you sob. “She’s clenching—she’s begging—she needs to cum, she needs it—”
“Then let her,” he growls. “Don’t fucking hold it. Let her make a mess.”
You whimper, fingers frantic, back arching off the bed.
And that’s when he says it—low and hot and foul.
“Let her fuck your fingers, slut.”
You snap.
Your body locks up, then shatters. You cum so hard your legs shake, hips jerking forward, thighs squeezing around your own hand as your pussy gushes over your fingers in sticky, messy waves. The moan that rips from your throat is broken, cracked, half-wet from tears.
It doesn’t hit you right away.
At first, there’s just white. Blinding. A full-body seizure of pleasure as your cunt clenches around nothing, soaking your own fingers, mouth open in a moan that doesn’t even sound like you.
It crashes over you fast. Wet. Messy.
You cum harder than you ever have in your life—harder than you thought was even possible—and your body just keeps going, hips jerking, slick dripping past your knuckles, your voice cracking on every gasp.
Heeseung is still there.
You know he is. You can feel his eyes on you, feel his breath in the space between your bodies, but you can’t look at him. Not right now. Not like this.
And then it fades.
That warm, bright static in your brain flickers out. Your thighs twitch. Your hand finally drops, fingers soaked, wrist aching, clit too sensitive to touch again.
What’s left is the sound of your breathing. The slick, wet mess beneath your hips. The embarrassment flooding in all at once like a second wave.
Reality slams back into you hard.
You’re laid out across his bed—sweaty, flushed, thighs spread wide and soaked all the way down to the crease of your ass. Your pussy’s still twitching, swollen and glistening, your panties bunched at one knee, hoodie halfway pushed up your stomach.
Your fingers shine in the low light. Still wet. Still shaking.
You sit up fast, panic sweeping over your skin like ice water. “Shit—fuck.”
Your hand fumbles to pull your hoodie down, yanking it over your thighs, shoving your panties back into place even though they’re absolutely soaked through. The fabric clings wetly to your pussy and only makes the mess feel worse.
Heeseung hasn’t moved.
Still in the chair. Still one hand inside his shorts. He looks completely unbothered. Calm. Like you didn’t just cum your entire soul out in front of him.
You can’t meet his eyes.
He watches you fuss with the hem of your hoodie, your hands still trembling slightly as you try to make yourself look decent.
“Didn’t say stop,” he says mildly.
You glare at him, cheeks burning. “I came. Pretty sure that’s the goal, right?”
He shrugs one shoulder. “Just surprised you’re acting all shy now. That pussy was practically talking thirty seconds ago.”
“Jesus—” you squeeze your eyes shut, bury your face in your hands.
Heeseung grins. Not mean. Not mocking. Just amused.
“You do realize how loud you were, right?” he adds. “I thought the bed was gonna snap in half.”
“Please stop talking,” you groan, voice muffled.
“You were crying,” he says like it’s a compliment, hand still lazily palming himself under his shorts. “That shit was beautiful.”
You peek at him through your fingers. He’s still hard. Still watching you with that same steady calm, like this is fine. Like this is normal.
He doesn’t even seem fazed.
That somehow makes the ache between your legs flare again. Weak, overstimulated, but greedy.
You clear your throat. “I didn’t realize I—um. That I could… do that.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Cum?”
You shoot him a look.
Heeseung laughs, finally letting go of himself. “You’ve been fighting her for years. All I did was give you directions.”
You tuck your knees up into your chest, arms wrapped around them. You feel like you just stripped naked in front of someone who stayed fully clothed—and now he’s just lounging there like you didn’t just show him the most private part of yourself.
You sit in that awkward silence for a few seconds longer.
Heeseung stretches, chair creaking slightly. “So,” he says, tone casual. “Lesson two tomorrow?”
You blink.
“…There’s a second lesson?”
He smiles slow, eyes dropping to your thighs again. “You think she’s done learning?”
Your pussy twitches beneath your soaked panties.
-
Your legs are still weak from the first night when you leave.
Just a few days back home. Just a quick visit. You didn’t think it would matter—but the second you cross the county line, your pussy starts aching like she knows she’s been abandoned. Like she misses his voice already.
You think about texting him before you even unpack your overnight bag.
It starts that fast—barely through the front door, barely through dinner with your parents, barely through pretending to care about someone’s new side hustle or whatever cousin just had a baby, and already your mind is slipping.
Already you’re restless. Already your body feels too awake. You can still feel the slick sticking to the inside of your thighs from last night, from the way he sat in that chair like he was doing you a favor while you touched yourself for the first time like it meant something. It hasn’t gone away. The ache stayed with you.
That trembling throb between your legs that didn’t fade after one orgasm—or two—or three. And now, here you are. Sitting in your childhood bedroom like you didn’t just learn how to listen to your pussy in someone else’s bed with someone else’s voice in your ear.
You last all of twelve hours. Maybe thirteen if you count sleep, but that’s cheating. You keep checking your phone like a freak. Not even for a message—just to see his name.
You scroll through the notifications like maybe he’ll magically show up. You open his contact. Stare at the little circle icon. You type a text. Delete it.
Type again. Delete. Pace the room. Pull your hair up. Let it fall. Lie on the bed. Toss the blanket off. Roll onto your stomach, then your back, then sit up again because your body’s too hot and your thoughts won’t stop dragging back to the sound of his voice saying “Good girl. She’s listening now.”
You try to distract yourself. Put music on. Stare at the ceiling. Scroll through reels. But the tension is building and it’s not casual. It’s deep. It’s mean.
Like your pussy’s crawling up your spine and whispering call him over and over again. And finally, like a fucking addict, you give in.
You don’t try to be subtle. Your fingers tremble as you type the message—“Can I call you?”—and hit send before you can regret it. Your breath catches in your throat. Heart pounding. Shame twisting in your gut like you’ve already crossed a line and he hasn’t even replied. But then your phone buzzes. Two texts in a row. You click without thinking.
No. I’ll call you.
Speaker on. Hands ready. Nothing else.
You don’t even get a second to prepare. The call comes in instantly, and you fumble to answer it, press speaker, toss the phone onto your pillow and sit back, legs shaking under your blanket. You’re wearing nothing but a big t-shirt—no bra, no panties. Like your body already knew what was coming.
His voice is in your ear the second the line connects.
Low. Thick. Wrecked.
“You waited all day just to fuck yourself to my voice, didn’t you?”
The sound alone makes your thighs clamp together. You can’t answer. You don’t know what to say. You feel called out, ruined, exposed, and he hasn’t even seen you.
“You’re pathetic,” he breathes, and it’s not cruel—it’s reverent. Like he’s turned on by the depth of your desperation. “You left for less than twenty-four hours and she’s already starving.”
Your breath comes out shaky. “She hasn’t shut up.”
“I bet. That little pussy’s been crying for attention, hasn’t she? Soaking your panties, throbbing for no reason. Did you even try to touch her?”
Your hand slides down your stomach. Shame floods your chest. “I tried last night.”
“And?”
Your fingers drift over your mound, soft and slow.
“…Didn’t work.”
“Of course it didn’t.” He doesn’t miss a beat. “Because she’s not trained to your fingers. She’s trained to my voice.”
You nearly choke.
“Take the blanket off.”
You do.
“T-shirt stays. I want you messy under it. Like a filthy little secret.”
You obey, chest rising. The air hits your bare skin and your nipples pebble instantly under the thin cotton. You slide your hand under the hem and find yourself dripping already—your folds slippery and warm, your clit throbbing at the first brush.
“Fuck. You’re already wet.”
You don’t answer.
“Don’t ignore me. Say it.”
You whimper. “I’m wet.”
“Where?”
Your hand slides lower. “Everywhere.”
“Let me hear it.”
You drag your fingers through your folds, then lift them to the mic.
Squish. Slick. Wet.
“Jesus Christ,” he breathes. “She’s fucking leaking for me.”
“She won’t stop,” you pant. “She’s been clenching—she’s needy. I can’t—I can’t even think straight.”
“She doesn’t need you to think. She needs you to listen.”
You nod like he can see you.
“You touching your clit yet?”
“No,” you whisper. “Just teasing.”
“Don’t tease her. Feed her.”
You obey. Your fingers find your clit and press slow, warm circles into the swollen skin. Your hips twitch immediately. Your body jolts with relief. Like it’s been waiting for this.
“Fuck. That’s it. Let her roll her hips. Let her grind on your fingers.”
You do.
And you moan. Loud. Wet. Pathetic.
“You sound like you’re crying.”
“I might be,” you choke out. “I’m—I’ve been on edge all day. She’s screaming—”
“Then shut her up.”
Your fingers move faster. Your breath turns ragged. The slick is everywhere now—coating your palm, sliding down your ass, soaking the sheets beneath you. You can hear it—slap, slap, slap—and you know he can too.
“God, listen to her,” he says. “She’s fucking talking again. Slapping wet, loud as hell, crying to be filled.”
Your thighs start to shake.
“Don’t you dare stop.”
“Heeseung—fuck, I’m close—”
“She wants to cum. So let her.”
You cum hard, back arching, legs tensed, voice cracking open around a sob as your pussy convulses around nothing—just your fingers, just your shame, just his voice dragging it out of you with nothing but command.
“Again,” he growls. “Don’t you dare take your hand off her. You begged for this. You waited all fucking day for it.”
You keep going. Because you can’t stop. Because this is his now.
-
You don’t get a break.
Heeseung doesn’t let you.
After that first call—the one where you came so hard you swore you saw stars—you thought maybe the tension would ease up. Maybe you’d get to breathe. But you don’t. Because the second you wake up the next morning, there’s already a text waiting for you.
Morning. She hungry?
Your pussy clenches on reflex.
You bite your lip, cheeks flushing under the covers.
Yes.
His reply is instant.
Good. edge yourself until you’re shaking. No cumming. No cheating. You’ll send me a pic of your fingers when you’re done.
That’s it. No teasing. No sweet talk. Just commands. Direct. Cruel. And of course—you obey.
You finger yourself that morning with shaking hands, grinding into your palm in the silence of your old bedroom with one hand over your mouth to muffle your cries. You stop just short of release three times. Your panties are soaked. The sheets beneath you are ruined.
You send the photo.
Two slick fingers, gleaming. One droplet hanging from your wrist like a taunt.
He doesn’t reply until hours later.
Beautiful. Don’t clean her up. Let her stick to your skin. I want her to haunt you all day.
That’s how it starts.
Sometimes it’s a call. Sometimes it’s just a photo prompt. Sometimes it’s voice notes—low, slow, whispered filth that you replay in the bathroom on full volume with your thighs clenched so tight you can barely breathe.
Another day: make a mess on your favorite pair of panties. Send proof. Don’t wash them. Fold them and put them in your drawer like a secret. Like she remembers.
When you can’t call—family dinners, company in the house, a wedding event—he doesn’t complain. He just adapts.
He sends you three voice notes in a row, each one filthier than the last.
“Are you wearing panties right now?”
“She’s wet just from this, isn’t she?”
“Put your phone between your legs. Let my voice buzz against her while you grind.”
You do. In the middle of the day. On the edge of your childhood bed. With the door locked and your hand clamped over your mouth to muffle the sound of you cumming on command.
Every time you text him, he knows what you need before you say it.
On your knees. Two fingers. Say my name when you finish. That’s all.
You cum like a trained animal.
By the end of the fourth day, you’re overstimulated and aching. Your cunt stays warm. Your clit stays swollen. You can’t think straight without hearing his voice. You can’t fall asleep without a pillow between your legs and your phone under your ear, replaying the way he said your name like it tasted good.
He doesn’t let you get comfortable.
I want her ruined by the time you get back. Wet stains on your thighs. Bruised from your own fingers. No excuses. You belong to me now, yeah?
-
You’re at the dinner table when the text comes in.
There’s a bowl of pasta in front of you. Your uncle’s talking about traffic. Your mom’s pouring more wine. And your phone buzzes in your lap—one tiny, harmless vibration you almost ignore until you see the name on your lockscreen.
Heeseung.
Your chest tightens immediately. A hot ripple runs down your spine. You unlock it under the table, heart already picking up speed, thighs pressed tight together like that’s gonna help anything.
You expect a voice note. Maybe an instruction. Instead, it’s just a single message.
Don’t open this here. I’m serious.
You excuse yourself. Bathroom. You try to walk casually, but your legs feel unstable, like your body knows what’s coming and is bracing for it. You shut the door. Lock it. Sit down on the closed toilet seat. And then you open the message.
It’s not a photo. Not a voice note. Just a block of text.
And it destroys you.
I want you dripping. Right now. I want your thighs sticky. I want your pussy hot and twitching and swollen like she’s just been edged for an hour and she’s still not allowed to cum. I want her pulsing around nothing. Squeezing air. Leaking like she misses my cock even though she’s never had it. That’s how good I want her trained. That she misses me even though I’ve never fucked her.
I want you to slide your hand into your panties and feel her spit for me. Feel how filthy she’s gotten just from reading my words. Not even hearing my voice. Just letters on a screen and she’s frothing like a brainless little thing. I want her throbbing. Sore. Pink. Aching.
I want you to pull your panties to the side and look at what I’ve done to you. How she opens for nothing. How she clenches for nothing. How she cries, fucking cries, when she doesn’t get touched. I want her messy. Slutty. Wet enough to embarrass you. Wet enough you can’t clean it up with one tissue. Wet enough that if someone walked into that bathroom right now, they’d smell her.
No fingers. Not yet. Just pressure. Palm down. Let her hump. Let her grind. Let her get yourself dirty. She knows what to do. She doesn’t need permission anymore. You’re gonna leak down your leg just reading this, aren’t you? She’s already twitching. Already soaking. She knows what she is now. A thing that exists to be used. To be made wet. To be trained.
You stare at your screen. Eyes wide. Chest heaving.
And you feel it—that slow, steady drip.
You slide your hand down between your legs and whimper when your fingers meet your panties—soaked through. Hot and sticky, your folds puffy and swollen, everything throbbing with need.
You spread your legs wider. There’s no stopping it. You have to.
You push your panties aside, just like he said, and when you look down, your cunt is shining. Slick lips parted, clit swollen and begging, a string of wet clinging between your folds when you breathe too hard.
You cup her with your whole palm and rock once.
You grind again. Harder. The heel of your hand pressing directly on your clit. Your hips move faster, panting now, forehead pressed against your bent knee as your pussy humps your own hand like she’s starved.
You’re fucking yourself with no fingers. Just pressure. Just filth. Just his words rotting your brain and your pussy loving it.
You don’t stop until your legs lock, jaw clenched tight to muffle the moan that rips through your throat. Your pussy convulses, grinding down hard, cumming in waves against your own palm until you’re crying silently, thighs soaked, panties a mess, body twitching from the force of it.
When it’s over, you’re wrecked. You sit there in silence. Breathing heavy. Panties still pulled to the side, hand drenched, cunt gaping and twitching like she’s still looking for him.
You snap a photo.
Not of your face. Just your hand. Soaked. Ruined. Slick covering your wrist, dripping down your knuckles.
You send it. No caption. A minute later, his reply lights up your screen.
That’s how she’s supposed to look. Every day until you get home.
-
You don’t even knock.
You could, but what’s the point? He told you to come over as soon as you got back. No texts. No warning. Just a short message yesterday night:
You better show up dripping.
And you are.
The shorts you wore are damp at the crotch, your hoodie clinging to the sweat on your lower back. Every shift of your thighs against the car seat on the drive over made you squirm. By the time you’re standing in front of his door, your cunt is throbbing. Empty. Trained. Starving.
He opens it like he already knew you were there.
Barefoot. Hoodie. Nothing underneath.
He stares at you for a second, quiet. His eyes drop to your legs, to the way you’re fidgeting, clenching, trying not to press your thighs together. He doesn’t smile. He doesn’t speak.
Just opens the door wider and lets you in.
You step past him. Silent. Heat prickling under your skin. His presence is loud, even without words. You can feel the pressure building already—your pussy knows. She’s aware. Aware of the air, of the scent of him, of how close he is now after five days of only hearing him through a speaker.
He closes the door behind you. And waits.
You turn to him, hands still curled into your sleeves. “I did everything.”
He lifts a brow. “Yeah?”
You nod. Swallow hard. “Every day.”
Heeseung steps forward slowly. Stops in front of you. His eyes flick down, over your body, like he’s looking for confirmation.
“You leaking?”
Your breath catches. “Yes.”
“Prove it.”
Your heart slams against your ribs. But you don’t hesitate.
Your fingers hook into the waistband of your shorts and tug them down in one smooth motion. They hit the floor and you step out of them, bare underneath, thighs sticky and glistening. Your hoodie barely covers your hips now. One inch higher and he’d see everything.
He doesn’t touch you.
“Show me,” he says, voice low.
Your breath hitches again—but you drop to your knees. Not because he asked. Because your body knows what to do now.
You kneel between his feet on the hardwood floor, hands moving to part your thighs so he can see. You pull the hoodie up to your waist and slide two fingers between your folds—dripping. It spreads so easily. Glossy. Viscous. Your pussy folds open for your own touch like it’s nothing new. Like she’s been practicing all week.
You keep your eyes on him the whole time.
And when your fingers come back up, soaked and glistening, you hold them out. Heeseung watches you in silence.
Then leans forward, slow and deliberate. He takes your fingers into his mouth and sucks—deep, slow, tongue curling around them like it’s a reward.
Your hips jerk slightly. Your cunt clenches hard. He pulls off with a wet pop and stares down at you.
“She tastes trained.”
You nod.
“She beg yet?”
You exhale. “She never shut up.”
He clicks his tongue. “Yeah?”
Then he grabs your jaw. Fingers firm but not rough, tilting your face up to his.
“You want her filled?”
You nod again. “Please.”
“Not yet,” he says. “She’s not ready.”
“I’m ready—she’s so ready, I’ve been—”
“I don’t care what you think. You’re not here to make decisions. You’re here to do what I say.” He lets go of your face. “You wanna get fed? Earn it. Lay down. Show me how she begs.”
You scramble onto the bed.
Flat on your back. Legs spread. Cunt on display. Dripping.
You’re already on your back, knees drawn up, thighs spread and trembling, cunt pulsing with heat that’s been building all week. You don’t try to hide it. You can’t. Your pussy’s wet. Loud. Lips glossy and parted, folds flushed and twitching like she knows the moment has finally come. She’s been teased. Trained. Denied. You’ve been filling her with fingers and pressure and your own voice, but never this. Never him. And now he’s standing at the edge of the bed, staring down at you like he’s finally ready to eat.
But he doesn’t touch you first.
He picks your shorts up off the floor, turns them inside out—and finds your soaked panties tangled in the legs. He peels them out slowly, sticky with your slick, the thin fabric darkened and clinging to itself. You watch, breath caught, legs still open, burning with shame as he brings them up to his face.
And sniffs.
Deep.
He inhales like it’s a fucking ritual. Eyes half-lidded. Thumb pressing into the crotch to smear the wetness around before dragging it across his lip. His tongue flicks out—tastes it.
“Jesus fuck,” he mutters under his breath. “She’s been marinating in this.”
Your body jolts. Your hands fist the sheets.
“She’s loud, too.” His voice drops lower. “I haven’t even touched her and she’s already talking. Look at her. Fucking twitching. Dripping. Spreading herself open like she knows who she belongs to.”
“Heeseung—” You whimper.
“Shut up.”
He tosses your panties to the side and climbs onto the bed, slow and smooth, eyes never leaving your cunt. He settles between your legs and just kneels there for a moment. Breathing her in. Hands on your thighs. Pushing them wider. Spreading you so open you can feel the air hit your slick.
You’re soaked. You know it. You can feel it, the slick sliding down into the dip of your ass, the way your folds part with every breath, your clit poking out, hot and swollen.
He just stares.
“You fucking trained her like this,” he mutters, almost to himself. “You really did it. Came like a good little slut every night just to keep her hungry.”
“She’s starving,” you whisper, voice shaking.
“I can see that.”
His thumbs press into the crease of your thighs, holding you open. His face lowers. Inches away. His breath hits your folds and your hips twitch violently.
He doesn’t lick you.
Not yet.
He just hovers. His nose skims your inner thigh. Then up. Right up the slick slit, dragging his breath across your folds until your body shudders. He breathes her in again—this time slower. Longer. Right at the source.
“God,” he mutters. “She fucking smells like obedience.”
You sob.
And then he spits.
Right on your pussy.
Hot. Heavy. Messy.
It splashes over your clit, drips between your folds, mixes with your slick and makes everything worse.
Your hips roll. You can’t stop it.
“Don’t you fucking move,” he growls. “She’s getting attention. She better stay still.”
And finally—finally—his tongue drags up your slit. A long, slow lick from hole to clit that ends with his mouth wrapped around it, sucking hard.
Your hands fly to his hair. Your spine arches off the bed.
But he pins you with one forearm across your stomach and doesn’t stop.
He eats you like a man starved. Like you’ve been feeding her for him. Keeping her ready. Keeping her needy. His mouth is everywhere—tongue licking up everything you’ve been saving, spit and slick and mess pooling under your ass while he moans into you.
“That’s it,” he groans against your clit. “Let me taste five fucking days of begging.”
You cry out, thighs clenching.
But he slaps your pussy with his hand—sharp, wet, punishing.
“Open.”
You go limp. You can’t fight it. You don’t want to.
He eats you like it’s personal. Tongue flat. Licking. Circling. Spitting again. Your clit’s too swollen, too sensitive, but he doesn’t care. He mumbles into you—filth you can barely understand because he’s too focused on devouring.
“She’s so fucking loud. She won’t shut up. You hear that?”
You do.
Your pussy makes noise with every lick—squelching, wet, obscene.
“I didn’t even fuck her yet,” he growls. “And she’s already creaming.”
You try to cum. You try.
But he pulls back just as your thighs start to shake, just as your stomach seizes.
“Nope. She’s not getting fed all the way until I’ve felt her on my cock.”
You nod frantically, fingers gripping the sheets, desperate.
Heeseung leans back, licking his lips, chin soaked, eyes wild.
“She’s ready,” he says. “She’s starving.”
He’s already got two fingers hooked inside you when he tells you to open your mouth.
Not to kiss him. Not to speak. Just to take it.
He shoves his fingers past your lips—soaked in your own slick, the same fingers he’s been curling deep inside your cunt, dragging against that spot that makes your eyes roll back. You gag around them, moaning as the taste floods your tongue—salty, sour, yours. He pushes them down onto your tongue, presses hard until your spit leaks out around them and drips down your chin.
“Swallow it,” he mutters, eyes locked on your face. “That’s what obedience tastes like.”
You do. Of course you do.
Because you’d do anything he says.
And he knows it.
He wipes the slick from your lips with his thumb, drags it down your throat, then shifts forward—kneeling between your trembling thighs, lining himself up with your soaked entrance like he’s been waiting years for this moment.
You stare down at his cock, thick and flushed and leaking at the tip, and your whole body tenses. You’re already open, already dripping, already fucked dumb—but none of it’s going to prepare you for this.
“Look at her,” he mutters under his breath, dragging the head of his cock through your folds, smearing pre-cum across your clit. “She’s fucking begging.”
“She wants it,” you pant, voice shaking. “Please—”
He doesn’t give you time to finish.
He presses in—slow, deep, cruel.
The stretch hits you all at once. Your back arches. Your breath leaves you in a choked gasp, and your pussy clenches hardaround him, sucking him in inch by inch like she never wants to let him go.
“Ohhh, fuck,” he groans. “She’s trained alright.”
You moan. Loud. Desperate. Writhing beneath him as he bottoms out, his hips flush against your ass, his cock buried all the way to the base.
She’s full.
Finally fucking full.
Your cunt grips him tight, fluttering around his cock like she’s been starving for it—and she has. Every inch of him hits something you didn’t know existed. Your body shakes under the pressure. You’re soaked. Stuffed. Used. And you want more.
“Say it,” he growls. “Say what she is.”
“She’s yours,” you gasp. “She’s a hole—your hole—she’s been waiting for this—”
He pulls out halfway, then slams back in.
You scream.
“You’re goddamn right she’s mine,” he snarls. “You trained her just to take my cock.”
You nod frantically, crying now, pleasure too thick in your throat to hold back.
He starts to fuck you in earnest—hard, relentless, loud. Skin slapping skin. His cock slick from your wetness, dragging through every twitch and squeeze, pressing deep, deeper, forcing your body to stay open for him. You feel it in your stomach. Your spine. Your fucking brain.
Every thrust knocks your thoughts loose. And you want to thank him. You want to feel him. You want to taste him.
So you lift your head—try to kiss him.
You lean up, lips parting, mouth open and begging.
He pulls back.
His hand grabs your throat, presses you flat into the mattress. You gasp, eyes wide, blinking up at him in confusion. He smiles. Cruel. Mocking.
“No,” he says coldly. “You don’t deserve to be kissed.”
Your breath shatters.
“Kisses are for good girls,” he spits. “You’re just a trained little hole.”
Your pussy clenches around him so violently he groans.
“That’s all you are now, isn’t it?” he sneers. “A stupid little cunt that opens on command. You get used, not kissed.”
Tears spill over your cheeks.
And you cum. Just like that.
From the words. From the shame. From the humiliation.
Your pussy spasms around his cock, soaking both of you as you scream into his hand still wrapped around your throat. Your hips jerk. Your vision goes white. But he doesn’t stop.
He fucks you through it, hips pounding, cock punching into your oversensitive cunt like he’s trying to reprogram you from the inside out.
“That’s it,” he pants. “Let her milk me. Let her show me how much she needed this.”
You’re sobbing. Gasping. Too wrecked to speak.
“Fucking knew it,” he groans. “You were never gonna be satisfied until you got split open.”
He leans down, mouth right by your ear.
“But don’t ever reach for a kiss again. Sluts like you don’t get kissed.”
You’re already limp when he flips you.
Your body gives out so easily—shoulders pressed into the mattress, arms numb, legs trembling, hips cocked up on instinct the second he yanks you onto your stomach. His hands drag you by the waist like a ragdoll. Like something boneless, brainless, ruined. Your face is buried in the pillow. Your cheek sticks to the fabric. You’re crying, still, but there’s no shame left. Just the raw ache of your cunt pulsing around nothing—because he pulled out.
You whine, pathetic and wordless, hips rolling back into the air, leaking down your thighs.
“Still hungry?” he mutters behind you.
You nod into the pillow.
“Say it.”
“She’s empty,” you whimper. “She’s twitching—she wants you back in—she’s not done—she’s never done—”
You gasp when the head of his cock slides back in. Just the tip.
He doesn’t give you the rest.
You wiggle. Cry. Press your ass back against him and moan when your folds stretch again, split open all over his length.
“You trained her to take it,” he says. “Now you’re gonna train her to keep it.”
He presses forward.
His cock buries to the hilt in one brutal thrust, and your whole body spasms. Your hands claw at the sheets. Your cunt clenches so violently it forces a sob out of your chest, high-pitched and broken. You’re still sensitive. Still throbbing from the last orgasm. But he doesn’t care.
He starts fucking you again like he owns you.
The slap of skin echoes in the room, wet and obscene, his cock pounding into your raw pussy like she’s just a hole to conquer. You don’t even try to move anymore. Your body takes it. Open, obedient, used.
“You like that?” he pants. “You like being my little fucktoy?”
“Yeah, you do. You’re trained now. A good little cocksleeve who comes when she’s told. Cries when she’s full. Cums from being humiliated.”
“I do,” you choke out. “I’m yours—I’m your toy—just your fucktoy—use me—use her—”
“That’s it,” he growls. “That’s what she wanted, isn’t it? Not kindness. Not kisses. Just cock. Just someone to shove it in and remind her she’s nothing but a messy, wet little pussy.”
He thrusts harder. You scream into the sheets.
“She’s so loud,” he snarls. “So fucking wet. She’s gushing. Every time I pull out she cries.”
You don’t even recognize your own voice when you cum again.
It’s raw. Ugly. Loud.
You scream—clawing at the sheets, nails ripping fabric, your body wracked with spasms as you squirt all over his cock, wet exploding out of you in waves, soaking the bed, your stomach, your thighs. You can’t stop it. You don’t want to.
He fucks you through it—harder.
“Let her break,” he growls. “Let her fucking split.”
And when your body finally collapses, hips falling, spine trembling, Heeseung doesn’t even slow down.
He grabs your hips, hauls you up, and drives in deep one more time—and stays there. His cock pulses inside you. Thick. Hot. Flooding you.
You feel it. You feel his cum shoot deep, thick ropes filling your already ruined pussy until your belly aches with it.
He stays inside. Keeps you cockwarmed, plugged full, hands rubbing down your spine like this is the aftercare.
Not words. Not love. Just being kept full. Like you should be.
You barely breathe. Your eyes are glassy. Your mouth’s open. You feel him lean over you. Feel the slow drag of his lips against your ear.
“You’re not starved anymore,” he whispers. “She’s fed now. Finally.”
You nod. Barely. Weak. Fucked out. His cock twitches.
“She’s still twitching,” he murmurs. “She wants to sleep like this.”
-
You wake up to the burn in your thighs.
The stretch. The ache. That slick-dried, too-sensitive sting between your legs from being filled for hours without a break. Your skin’s flushed. Clammy. You shift slightly under the covers, still half-asleep, and you feel it—him.
Still there. Still inside you.
You blink. Breathe. Try to make sense of your body—but the pressure between your legs is still warm. Your cunt clenches instinctively, and his cock twitches in response.
A slow, deep ache spreads in your gut.
His arm is draped over your waist. His chest is pressed against your back. He’s asleep—soft breaths on your shoulder, jaw resting against the side of your head. And his cock is still buried to the base in your pussy. Warm. Heavy. Plugging you full like it belongs there.
But something else creeps in too.
You lie there for a moment. Silent. Still. Pussy fluttering, heartbeat slowing, and that awful little ache growing in your chest. The one that started the second he pulled away last night. The one that settled into your ribs when you reached for him and he said “You don’t deserve to be kissed.”
You swallow. You whisper it before you even think about it.
“Are you really not gonna kiss me?”
It’s soft. Not needy. Just… there.
His breath shifts against your skin. His arm tightens slightly around your waist.
You almost regret asking.
Until he exhales through his nose and mutters, voice rough and low and real, “I’m still fucking inside you, you brat. You think I’m gonna spend the whole night cockwarming my favorite pussy and not kiss her in the morning?”
You twist under him, face flushed, and turn your head over your shoulder—and his mouth is already there.
No hesitation. He kisses you hard.
Mouth slanting over yours, tongue sliding in with no patience, lips full and hot and filthy with morning breath and spit. You moan into it, deep and broken, cunt clenching around his cock again like she’s reacting to the kiss like it’s touch.
His hand grips your jaw, thumb dragging over your cheek as he devours your mouth. He licks into you like he means it—like you’ve earned it—like he’s been wanting to do it since before he ever called you a slut.
You’re whimpering into his mouth when it happens.
Your lips slide against his, sticky with spit, your breath still uneven from how long you spent crying into the pillow, your cunt still fluttering weakly around his cock. He hasn’t pulled out. He’s still inside you. Still twitching, half-hard again already, thick and warm, stretching your still-leaking pussy while your body curls back into him, needy and clingy and soft in a way you didn’t get to be last night.
His hand cups your jaw now. Gentle. Finally. His thumb drags along your lower lip, slow and possessive, like he’s re-learning your mouth after denying it. His tongue pushes into you with unhurried filth, and your hips shift just barely, like your cunt’s trying to pull more of him in. Like she doesn’t even know how to be empty anymore.
And then you hear it.
“Heeseung?”
It’s distant. Not loud. Sleepy. But your blood freezes.
“Hey—have you seen Y/N?”
Evie. She’s awake. The breath dies in your throat.
Your eyes fly open. Heeseung’s hand freezes on your jaw. Your whole body locks. His cock is still deep inside you, softening now, but still heavy. Still leaking. You can feel him dripping down your inner thighs as your brain flips inside out with panic.
“Shit,” you mouth, barely audible.
Heeseung exhales through his nose, calm, but his arm is already tightening around your waist like he’s trying to figure out his next move in real time.
“Y/N?” she calls again. “Where’d you go?”
You scramble out of the bed like you’ve been shot. Legs wobbly. Pussy sore. You trip over the blanket as you reach for your discarded clothes, yanking your hoodie on over your head, trying not to scream as your shorts catch on your ankle. You’re still soaked, your panties still twisted around your thigh from where he shoved them earlier, and you can feel his cum still inside you, wet and hot and fucking obvious.
Heeseung’s already sitting up, dragging his hoodie on, running a hand through his hair to make it look like he just woke up.
You’re panicking. “Do I go back to her room? What do I do—what if she’s in the hallway—?”
Heeseung stands up, grabs your shoulders, kisses your forehead once—quick, mocking, cocky—like this is funny to him.
“Bathroom. Now.”
You sprint for it. Just as he opens his door.
His voice is casual. Sleep-rough.
“Yo.”
“You seen Y/N? I woke up and she wasn’t in bed. Her stuff’s still there though.”
Heeseung stretches in the doorway, voice smooth as fucking silk.
“Nah, haven’t seen her. She probably went to the bathroom.”
“She didn’t text me.”
“She probably didn’t want to wake you.”
You’re crouched in the bathroom, hands over your mouth, hoodie soaked at the hem, thighs still trembling. You glance down and see a smear of his cum on your leg, glistening in the morning light like a neon sign of guilt.
“Whatever. Tell her I’m making pancakes.”
“Will do.”
Door shuts. Heeseung turns, leans into the bathroom, finds you crouched by the sink.
“You owe me.”
You punch his chest.
He grabs your wrist. Kisses it.
“Don’t worry,” he whispers, voice low. “You’ll pay me back tonight."
-
It’s early.
Evie’s downstairs making coffee. You can hear the clinking of mugs, the stupid hum of whatever playlist she plays when she’s in a good mood.
You’re in Heeseung’s lap. Hoodie on. No underwear. His back’s against the headboard, his cock deep inside you, and you’re grinding slowly—hips circling, cunt fluttering, hands pressed to his chest to keep yourself upright.
You’re not allowed to bounce. Not allowed to moan.
Just slow, controlled rolls—like you’re milking him without giving yourself away.
“You sound like you want her to know,” he whispers against your throat.
You shake your head. Breathe through your nose. Keep moving.
“Then be quiet, baby. Or I’ll hold your mouth and your hips still, and you won’t cum at all.”
You almost cry. He grabs your ass. Tilts your hips just right.
“If she walks in, you better keep her name off your lips while I fill you up.”
You do. Barely.
You cum with your hand clamped over your mouth, twitching around his cock like you were made for it—and Heeseung cums seconds later, low and quiet, mouth on your collarbone.
Downstairs?
Evie sings along to the chorus.
-
It’s disgusting.
There’s no other word for it.
You’re on all fours, face buried in Heeseung’s mattress, drooling, moaning, thighs trembling with every wet squelch of his fingers plunging into you from behind. His mouth is glued to your cunt, spit running down his chin, tongue working your clit in slow, sloppy laps while one hand spreads you open—and the other, lower, slick with your cum, is rubbing tight circles around your asshole.
You’re whining his name. Filthy. Wordless. Brain-melted.
“Fuck, she’s drooling for it,” he mutters into your pussy. “She wants both. She’s ready. One in her ass, two in her cunt—you wanna be stretched like a proper little hole, huh?”
Your face is soaked. Your body’s trembling. Your pussy flutters around his fingers, slick squelching with every slow drag in and out. Your rim clenches, raw and wet from the friction. You try to answer, but all that comes out is a pathetic sob.
“Say it,” he growls. “Say what she wants.”
“I want it,” you gasp, voice cracking. “I want you to open my ass—wanna be full, wanna cum like a fucktoy—please—please—”
And then—
“Y/N?”
You hear your name like it’s being spoken through a tunnel.
You freeze.
Every muscle in your body locks.
Heeseung doesn’t move.
You can feel his tongue hovering right at your clit. His finger is still circling your asshole.
And then you both look up.
In the doorway. Mouth open. Eyes wide. Chest heaving.
Evie.
Her face doesn’t go red. It goes white. Like her blood just dropped to her feet.
She stares at your body—at your back arched, knees wide, your ass open, Heeseung’s hand buried between your cheeks, your best friend’s brother with his mouth on you and your spit in his beard.
And then she gags. Audibly. Violently.
Her whole body jolts forward like she’s about to puke right there in the hallway.
“Oh my—fucking—god—” she chokes. “What the—what the FUCK—”
She turns. Presses her palm to the wall. Leans into it. Her other hand clamps over her mouth and you see her shoulders jerk. Once. Twice. A horrible, broken sound crawls out of her throat.
“No—no—no—no, no, no—”
She’s panicking.
Can’t breathe. Her body is shaking so hard you think she might collapse.
“Evie—” you start, voice already wet. “Evie, please—please just listen—”
“DON’T.”
The scream hits like a slap.
“Don’t talk to me. Don’t—don’t even say my fucking name—”
You’re sobbing now. Reaching for the blanket. Falling off the bed. Barely able to pull your hoodie down over your sticky, twitching body.
Heeseung moves. Not fast enough. Still shirtless. Still hard. His fingers still glistening.
“Heejoo—”
“DON’T. CALL ME THAT.” Her voice is shrill, raw, wrecked. “You’re my fucking brother.”
She looks at you. Like she doesn’t even know you.
And then her expression cracks completely.
Her face contorts—pain, betrayal, disgust, hatred—all in one devastating collapse.
“You were inside her,” she whispers, and her voice breaks. “You had your—your—you were licking her while you were fingering her ass—”
“You’re both fucking insane.”
You crawl toward her. Not thinking. Just begging. Your knees burn. Your hands shake.
“Evie—please—please just let me explain—”
She flinches.
Flinches.
Like your voice touched her skin. Then she goes still. Her breathing slows. Her hands drop to her sides.
She looks empty.
“Don’t come near me.”
Her voice is flat now. Robotic.
“Don’t talk to me. Don’t look at me. Don’t even fucking breathe in my direction.”
You can’t speak. Can’t move. She steps back.
Looks at Heeseung. Then at you.
“You’re both dead to me.”
-
You don’t remember the walk home.
You don’t remember grabbing your phone, or leaving the house, or what the weather was like. You don’t remember how long you cried, or how many people stared, or how fucking long it took for the heat between your legs to fade into something cold and ugly. You just remember sitting on your bedroom floor—hoodie still wet between your thighs, your underwear balled up in your pocket—and trying to breathe without choking on it.
Because it doesn’t stop. The image. Her face.
Evie, hand over her mouth. Evie, gagging. Evie, stepping back like you were something dirty.
She meant it. Every word.
“Don’t talk to me. Don’t look at me. Don’t fucking breathe in my direction.”
She meant it.
You try to text her that night. You don’t even know what to say. There are three different messages in your drafts: one with just her name. One that says “I’m sorry.” One that says nothing at all.
They don’t send. You’ve been blocked.
He doesn’t text either. You don’t even know if he can.
The silence is so big it feels like a second death. You lie in bed every night with your phone face-up on your pillow, waiting for it to light up with anything. A call. A voice note. Just a name.
It never comes.
But you still feel him. In your body. In your bones.
Every time you try to sleep, your body curls like it’s expecting to be filled.
Some nights you wake up sweating—panting, pussy twitching—because you dreamed of his voice again.
You still miss him. Even after all of it. Even after how it ended.
Even after Evie’s face broke in half at the sight of you—wet, spread open, her brother’s finger sliding into your ass while you begged for more.
You still miss him. And that’s the part that makes you sick.
-
It’s been nearly two weeks since you watched Evie recoil in that doorway, hand clamped over her mouth like she was actually going to vomit.
You can’t erase the memory of her face—how disgust bled into betrayal, how her gaze slid right past you like you didn’t exist, then landed on Heeseung as if he were some twisted stranger in her own home. You tried to bury the image, tried to make it small and unimportant, but it lives in your chest now, swelling every time you breathe.
You haven’t talked to either of them since. Not one word to her, not a single text to him.
It’s as if the world paused on that moment: her voice ripping through the room, your body half-naked, his spit drying on your thighs, your stomach churning with guilt.
Now the doorbell rings, and somehow you already know who’s on the other side.
You open it slowly, hesitation weighing on every movement of your hand.
Heeseung stands there in a wrinkled hoodie, dark circles stamped beneath his eyes. He looks thinner—like the shape of him has caved in from the inside out. His hair is unstyled, his shoulders hunched, and the way he stares at you feels desperate.
Neither of you speak for a few seconds, the silence pressing into your lungs.
Then you break it, because you can’t handle him looking at you like that. “Why are you here?” Your voice comes out flat, echoing the numbness you’ve been living in.
Heeseung swallows, gaze skittering between your face and the ground.
“I had to see you.”
The words feel like they’re meant to fix something, but all they do is twist the knife. You give a hollow laugh, but there’s no humor in it.
“You already saw enough.”
He exhales shakily, bringing a hand up to scrub at the back of his neck.
“I’m not asking you to forgive me,” he says, eyes flicking up to meet yours. “I know that’s not—there’s nothing I can—” He trails off, struggling, guilt carved into every line of his face. When he finally speaks again, his voice strains.
“You think we haven’t replayed it a hundred fucking times?” he asks. “The door. The blanket. You moaning. Me—God—we were still fucking with each other right there, even when she—”
“Stop.” Your voice cracks. “Don’t say it.”
“We saw her face,” his voice keeps going, low and fast and pained. “We saw it, and we still didn’t stop, like fucking animals. I see it every time I close my eyes. I hear her say my name like I was never hers, like you were never her friend.”
You speak,
“I can’t look at you without hearing her gag.”
The confession slashes the air, and his lips part like you’ve slapped him.
“I can’t hear your name without remembering what it felt like to be in her house, in her family, doing… that, while she thought I was asleep down the hall.”
For a moment, neither of you breathe. Then he forces himself to speak, voice cracking.
“I know. I fucking know, and I hate that we didn’t let go even when we heard her. I hate that she looked at us like we were monsters. I hate that part of me still wanted to stay inside you, and part of you still wanted me there, when we should’ve both stopped.”
You close your eyes, replaying Evie’s strangled gasp in your head, recalling the numb disbelief that followed when she told you not to speak, not to look, not to fucking breathe in her direction.
“I can’t talk to you,” you whisper, voice trembling despite your best efforts. “I can’t even hear your name without feeling sick.”
He swallows and nods, like he’s been waiting for those exact words. “I’m sorry,” he says, and he sounds like he’s about to shatter. “I won’t—if you never want to see me again, I understand.” He drags in a breath that rattles in his chest. “I just needed to know you were… alive.”
For a moment, you want to ask him if he’s okay too, if he’s been eating or sleeping, if he wakes up sweating like you do. But you lock it down, because you can’t afford to care right now.
“Well,” you say, and your voice is colder than you intend, “now you’ve seen me. Congratulations.”
A faint tremor passes through him, and he nods once. There’s nothing else. No lecture, no pleading. He just steps back, shoulders slumped, and turns away.
-
It happens in the grocery store, of all places. You’re pushing a half-empty cart down the cereal aisle, trying not to think about how much quieter life has been since you lost your best friend and the boy you broke her heart with. You’re scanning the shelves for something to distract you when you catch sight of a familiar figure at the other end of the row.
Your heart lurches, your fingers tightening on the cart handle as your stomach flips.
Because there, frowning at the boxes of cereal, is Evie—or Heejoo, or however she wants to be called now. You don’t have time to decide whether you should turn and run or force a hollow smile. She glances up, and your eyes meet. Neither of you moves.
The aisle feels too narrow. Her cart sits between you, an invisible barrier.
She looks different—her hair is shorter or maybe just pulled back in a careless ponytail, dark smudges under her eyes, shoulders tense. She seems hollowed out in the same way you feel.
Some part of you wants to say hey or I miss you or please talk to me, but the words dissolve in your throat. She’s the one who steps forward first, letting her cart roll behind her. Her heels click on the tile, echoing your every heartbeat.
“Having fun?” she asks, and it doesn’t sound like a question so much as a thinly-veiled jab.
You grip the handle of your cart, mouth suddenly too dry to speak.
“Evie—”
“Don’t call me that,” she snaps, eyes flicking away like the name itself stings. “You don’t get to pretend we’re okay. You don’t get to act like we’re still friends.”
Her arms fold across her chest, nostrils flaring with each breath, and you feel your own pulse jump in your neck. “I—I’m sorry,” you manage, voice trembling. It’s not enough, you know that.
She scoffs, a breathy, humorless sound. “That’s it? You’re sorry? You think that magically fixes everything?” She gestures sharply, and you notice how tightly she’s clenching her fists. “You screwed around with my brother like it was nothing, and I walked in on—” Her voice breaks, face twisting as she fights off the memory. “I was just the idiot friend who never saw it coming, right?”
Shame flares in your cheeks. You hold your ground, though it hurts to meet her eyes. “I know I betrayed you,” you say. “We—God, I don’t even have the words for how messed up it was. We both knew better. We both let it happen.”
Her hand lifts to cut you off, shaking with the effort. “You think it’s just that you hurt me?” Her voice wobbles between anger and heartbreak. “You hurt him too, you realize that? He was my brother, you were my best friend, and you both blew yourselves up in front of me. Like you had no idea what it would cost.”
Your stomach knots in a way you haven’t felt before. She’s right. It wasn’t just her—it wasn’t just you. It was all three of you, tangling and twisting until it snapped. “I know,” you say more quietly. “And we’re all paying for it. He’s… he’s not okay. I’m not okay. And you’re definitely not okay. There’s no part of this that isn’t broken.”
She lets out a short, bitter laugh. “Do you think that helps? Hearing you say it’s broken doesn’t change the fact that I can’t even look at either of you without wanting to scream.”
You bow your head, voice almost inaudible. “I wish I could take it back.”
She swallows, and for a fraction of a second, the hostility in her eyes flickers with pain. “Well, you can’t.” Her grip tightens on the cart handle until her knuckles whiten, and she exhales shakily.
“I want my brother back, you know. I want my friend back. But I don’t get either of those things, because you two decided to… to destroy what we had.”
Your throat closes up, tears pricking at your eyes. “I’m sorry.”
She stares for another few seconds, jaw clenched as she holds herself together. Then she moves around you, snatching her cart by the handle, the wheels squeaking in protest.
“Enjoy the produce,” she mutters under her breath, voice dripping with bitterness as she passes.
-
It doesn’t happen overnight.
There’s no single conversation that wipes the slate clean, no perfect gesture that makes Evie’s betrayal vanish, no magic wand that repairs the gaping wound in your chest.
But over time—slow, grudging, step by hesitant step—you all begin to realize that staying in this darkness is killing you. Staying strangers, orbiting the same guilt without looking one another in the eye, is worse than facing the truth. And that truth is messy, fragile, and riddled with scars.
It begins with Evie texting you, late at night, a week after the grocery store encounter.
Just three words: We need to talk.
You stare at the screen for a solid minute, heart pounding like it’s trying to break out of your chest.
Your hands shake as you reply, Yeah, okay.
That’s all. No apology, no second-guessing, just acceptance. You wait for her to say when or where, but she doesn’t text back until the next afternoon, telling you to meet her at the park near her house.
And then she clarifies: Just you.
You show up after sunset, nerves jangling in every limb, expecting hostility, or silence, or both.
Instead, you find Evie sitting on a faded wooden bench under a flickering streetlight. She looks smaller than you remember, knees drawn up under her chin, arms hugging herself for warmth. As you approach, you open your mouth to say something—anything—but she holds up a hand, shaking her head.
“Don’t,” she says, voice tight. “Not yet.”
You stand there, awkward and guilty, waiting for her permission to speak.
She lowers her hand and sighs, staring at a patch of dead grass near her feet. “I asked you here because… this is killing me,” she mutters. “Being this angry all the time. Hating you. Hating him. I can’t keep up with it. It’s turning me into someone I don’t recognize.”
Her words break something inside your chest, and your throat goes thick. You sit down on the far edge of the bench, leaving a wide space between you, unsure if you’re allowed to be any closer. “I… I know,” you manage, voice unsteady. “I feel it too. It’s like I’m rotting on the inside.”
She nods once, gaze flicking to you before sliding away again. “I’m not saying I forgive you,” she warns, and you nod, heart pounding. “I’m just saying I don’t want this to be my life anymore. This—rage. It’s not me.”
She exhales, shoulders curling inward. “And I loved you. You were my best friend. And he… he’s my brother, and I loved him too. So how did we all end up here?”
Silence lingers. You fight back tears that threaten to spill.
“We messed up,” you whisper, voice cracking. “We both did. Me and him. We used your house, your trust, your everything for our own messed-up… needs, and it was stupid and selfish and we ended up shattering everything.” You swallow a lump in your throat. “I know none of that fixes it. But I swear to you, we never wanted to hurt you.”
Evie laughs bitterly, a hollow sound. “Well, you did. And I can’t pretend you didn’t.”
Her gaze shifts to the distance, to the halo of light under the streetlamp. “But I don’t know if I can keep hating you. Or him.”
She hesitates, words coming out slow. “I saw him last week. He looked—God, I hardly recognized him. Like a ghost of himself.”
You nod, biting back the urge to defend him or to ask a dozen questions. “He’s… not doing great,” you say simply, remembering his hollow cheeks, the way his voice cracked when he said he couldn’t sleep.
She wraps her arms tighter around herself, rocking slightly. “Neither are we,” she points out. “None of us are okay. And I guess that’s what I’m realizing. That we’re all stuck in the same crater, staring at the same wreckage. Maybe we shouldn’t be trying to fix it on our own.”
Your eyes burn with unshed tears. “What do you want to do?” you ask, feeling the weight of her words press into your chest.
She’s quiet for a long moment. Then she looks directly at you, tears shimmering at the edges of her eyes. “I want us to talk,” she says. “All three of us. In one place. I want us to put it all on the table, no hiding, no running out. Because if there’s any chance of moving forward—together or apart—we have to face it."
“I’ll text him,” she says, voice ragged. “Don’t expect miracles. But I can’t do this alone.”
A teardrop escapes your lashes and slips down your cheek. “Neither can I,” you whisper. “Thank you.”
She doesn’t respond, just stands up and motions for you to follow.
-
Evie’s living room is dimly lit, and the air feels thicker than it should—as if everything you’ve said to each other in the last hour is still hovering in the space between. Outside, it’s already dark, the muffled hum of passing cars bleeding in through the windows. You’re all drained—physically, emotionally—yet no one moves to leave. Not yet. It’s not finished.
Evie is perched on the armchair, knees drawn close to her chest. You’re on one end of the couch, Heeseung on the other, and there’s still a gulf of guilt and confusion separating you. But you can feel the conversation building toward something bigger than apologies or confessions of regret.
Evie tugs at the sleeves of her sweater. She glances between you and her brother, mouth pinched tight, but her voice is gentler than before.
“I’m not pretending this is easy,” she begins, clearing her throat. “We’ve all hurt each other. I just want to know what you… what you both actually feel.” Her gaze settles on you, question clear in her eyes. “Do you two even care about each other beyond… beyond whatever it was you were doing?”
You swallow, your mouth dry. This is the moment you’ve been pushing down for weeks, refusing to think about. The reason you woke up gasping sometimes, alone in your bed, missing a warmth you never should have craved in the first place. You take a shaky breath, feeling your pulse hammer in your temples.
“I—” you begin, then stop. Your voice wavers, but you force yourself to speak. “I’m in love with him.”
It comes out bare, unpolished, stripped of excuses. You feel the words echo in your chest, leaving you vulnerable. Across the room, Evie’s eyes widen for half a second, and you can see her guard tighten, just a bit.
Heeseung exhales sharply, his head snapping up. You can’t bring yourself to meet his gaze. Instead, you focus on the floor, heart pounding.
“I know,” you continue, voice trembling, “that he might not feel the same way. I know we started this all wrong, that I messed up your trust, that I hurt you”—you glance at Evie—“and maybe I don’t deserve a happy ending. But I can’t keep pretending I don’t love him just because I’m ashamed of how we got here.”
Evie inhales like she’s bracing for another blow, her arms tightening around her knees.
“You’re saying you love him, even if he doesn’t love you back?” she asks, carefully, like she’s afraid of the answer.
You let out a breath that feels like it’s been caged in your ribs for months.
“Yes. It’s not… it’s not his responsibility. If it’s one-sided, that’s on me.” You glance fleetingly at Heeseung, face flushing. “I don’t expect anything from him, or from you. I just—” Your voice cracks. “I needed to say it out loud.”
Silence envelops the room, charged with tension. Heeseung is staring at you, eyes wide and glossy, like you’ve knocked the air from his lungs. Evie shifts, chewing on the inside of her lip.
Heeseung finally speaks, voice rough.
“You… love me?”
You manage a small, trembling nod. “I do,” you say, meeting his gaze at last. “And if you don’t love me back, that’s okay. I know how messed up this is. I’m ready to… to accept that.”
He looks startled, as if no part of him expected you to be okay with that possibility. His hands flex on his knees, knuckles blanching. Then he breathes out, shoulders sagging.
“God,” he murmurs, shaking his head. “You’re unbelievably stupid.”
You flinch, heart jolting—though there’s no real malice in his tone, only a shaky awe and raw disbelief that seems to be tying him in knots. He forces himself to meet Evie’s eyes for a flicker of a second, as if silently asking for permission to go on.
“Don’t call her that,” Evie snaps, voice quivering at the edges. She fixes him with a sharp glare, arms folded tight across her chest. “I don’t care how you meant it—she’s not stupid, and you don’t get to insult her in front of me.”
“Shut the fuck up Evie, one second,” He turns to you, “Because you think I’m not in love with you? That I’d leave you hanging with all this guilt?”
Your heart stutters, the floor tilting under you. “Heeseung…”
“I’m in love with you too,” he says, and the words hang in the air with tangible weight. “I can’t believe you’d be ready to walk away, believing it was one-sided. That you’d… accept it. God, do you have any idea how much it hurts to see you in so much pain, thinking I don’t feel the same?”
A soft sound escapes your throat—some blend of relief and shock—and tears gather at the edges of your vision. Across the room, Evie exhales shakily, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment. You can see the swirl of emotions crossing her features: anger, hurt, jealousy, and underneath it all, a lingering care for you both.
Heeseung scrubs a hand over his face, then looks to Evie, voice trembling.
“I love her. I know I messed up. We messed up. We never should’ve lied. But I can’t take back how I feel.”
Evie drags in a deep breath. She pushes herself up from the armchair, pacing a short line across the living room. Her head is down, hands in her hair. When she finally looks at you both, there’s pain in her eyes, but not the same raw fury as before.
“Jesus,” she mutters. “You two…” She chews the inside of her cheek. “I hate what you did. I hate how you did it. But if you love each other—really love each other—I can’t tell you not to.”
Her shoulders slump. “I want to be angry forever, but… seeing you like this, I—” She presses her lips together, tears brimming, then sets her jaw. “I guess I just want us to find a way to exist without destroying each other.”
A thick silence fills the space. Your chest feels ready to burst from conflicting emotions—gratitude, guilt, longing, terror. You look at Evie and see the ghost of the best friend you once knew, who might be willing to stand beside you again one day, even if it won’t ever be the same.
You open your mouth.
“I know it won’t be easy,” you say softly. “I don’t expect you to forgive everything in one night. But maybe… maybe we can start moving forward?”
Evie dashes a tear off her cheek and gives a tiny nod.
“Yeah,” she whispers. “Maybe.”
Heeseung watches her, watches you, then rises from the couch. He hesitates, like he’s not sure if he’s allowed to touch you. You stand up, heart pounding, and drift closer. Neither of you quite meets in the middle, leaving a careful gap where all your remorse hangs. But it’s less than before.
Evie clears her throat, hugging herself.
“I can’t stay down here with you two being… whatever you are. I need time, okay?”
You nod quickly.
“Of course.”
Heeseung nods as well, voice soft.
“Anything you need.”
She steps back, wiping her eyes, and there’s a hint of a weary smile ghosting across her face, like she’s relieved but not sure how to show it.
“You two can talk, or… or go, or do whatever. I just…” Her breath catches. “I’m gonna go upstairs. That’s all I can handle right now.”
You don’t stop her.
Then you turn to him, tears slipping down your cheeks, a tremulous hope fluttering in your chest. He lifts a hand—tentative, like he’s scared to break you—and cups your cheek, thumb brushing your damp skin.
He exhales shakily.
“I love you,” he murmurs, the words raw with emotion. “I’m sorry for everything.”
You nod, voice catching in your throat as you rest your hand over his.
“I’m sorry too,” you whisper. “But I love you, and maybe… that’s something we can start with.”
His eyes close in something like relief, and he presses a soft, uncertain kiss to your temple. It isn’t a triumphant moment, not the kind of romantic victory you might’ve once imagined. It’s tender, laced with guilt and fear. But it’s also real—genuine and fragile, the only piece of warmth you’ve had in a long time.
-
Things shift slowly, almost imperceptibly at first. You and Heeseung start keeping your distance whenever Evie’s around—no subtle hand-holding, no lingering touches, certainly no sneaking off to lock yourselves behind the nearest door.
It’s not that you’re ashamed of each other; it’s that you can’t stand the thought of rubbing your relationship in her face. You both know you’re lucky she’s even letting you in the same room without storming out.
So you dial it back. You let your bodies stop running the show.
It’s harder than you expect—he still sets your nerves on fire by simply looking at you—but you remind yourself that Evie’s feelings matter, that you owe her more than just half-hearted consideration. You give her space, which means giving yourselves space too.
No sex. No heavy make-out sessions. No pressed-up-against-a-wall confessions. Just… time and gentle contact.
Heeseung seems as restless as you.
Sometimes, when it’s late and you’re on a phone call—whispering so Evie won’t hear through the walls—he sounds downright desperate.
You can hear his breath catch when you say you miss him, can practically feel the tension radiating through the receiver.
Yet both of you agree: this is how it has to be for now. If you want Evie to believe that what you have is more than just an addiction to each other’s bodies, you need to show her you can exist outside a bed.
So you go on dates. Real dates. Movie theaters, yes, but also bookstore trips, late-night drives to nowhere, strolling through a local fair when it rolls into town.
You hold hands only if you’re well away from Evie’s neighborhood—fearful that any small sign of affection might break the thin thread of tolerance she’s extended.
The first time you walk along the riverside in the evening, sipping cheap coffee from a convenience store, it hits you that you’ve never really done this part before: the tentative, day-to-day romance of building a real relationship. It’s both comforting and nerve-wracking.
You can feel the charge sparking under your skin every time he smiles at you, like you’re seconds away from losing your careful resolve.
But you don’t. Neither of you wants to risk undoing the fragile progress with Evie.
And that progress is slow, but present.
She doesn’t cringe as much when you and Heeseung enter a room together.
She no longer flinches if you happen to stand on the same side of the kitchen.
Maybe sometimes she rolls her eyes, but she doesn’t snap. You see the tension in her shoulders when you’re all in the same space, though—like she’s bracing for some new betrayal.
You can’t blame her. You still offer to leave the moment you sense her discomfort rising. Surprisingly, she’s started telling you to stay.
But the real sign that things might be healing comes one weekend night when Evie texts you, out of the blue:
Girls’ night?
She doesn’t dress it up with a cute emoji or an explanation; it’s bare bones, almost clinical. And you stare at your phone with your heart hammering, wondering if this is a test, or maybe a begrudging olive branch.
You answer with a shaky yes, and spend the next few hours trying not to read too much into it. You tell Heeseung you’ll be hanging out with Evie, and he just smiles—wide and genuine, telling you to have fun, to text him if you need anything.
Evie’s room hasn’t changed much since the night you snuck out of it to see Heeseung. The layout is the same, the posters the same, the bedspread the same. It all feels loaded with history.
She sits cross-legged on her bed, handing you a soda—no alcohol tonight, no false bravado. You sense she wants you both stone-cold sober for whatever might be said.
There’s an awkward pause, and then she gestures for you to sit, too.
For a while, conversation comes in bursts: updates about random classmates, stories from her day at work, small talk about the show you both used to binge-watch together. It’s stiff, but not hostile.
She picks at her blanket, and you notice how she won’t hold your gaze for too long. Yet each minute that passes without snapping or bitterness feels like a victory.
Eventually, she slides a bag of nail polish across the bed toward you. “You, um… you still like doing this, right? It’s been a while,” she mumbles, glancing at your nails.
It’s such a small gesture, but it makes your throat tighten. You nod, and she exhales something that might be relief.
For a solid hour, the two of you paint and chatter, as if practicing how to be friends again. Her shoulders are less rigid. You’re careful not to misstep. Neither of you mentions Heeseung.
At least not directly. But you feel his presence in the air, the unspoken pivot point around which your every interaction revolves. It’s only when Evie finally fixes you with a long, assessing look, half-concern and half-uncertainty, that the moment arrives.
“Are you two, like… okay?” she asks. Her voice is laced with discomfort, but there’s no hatred in it. “You said no more sneaking around. But are you—happy?”
You swallow hard, carefully blowing on your newly painted nails. “We’re… doing our best,” you say. “Trying to be good for each other. Not just physically.”
She nods, lips twisting like she’s turning over your words in her mind. “I guess… that’s what I wanted to know,” she admits softly. “It still weirds me out sometimes, but I’d rather it matter to you than be some… fling.”
A wave of gratitude surges in your chest, making it hard to speak. You nod. “It matters,” you whisper. “I swear.”
She blinks a few times, then sets her nail polish aside. The tension in her shoulders relaxes just enough that her spine curves against the headboard, more comfortable than you’ve seen her in weeks. “Good,” she murmurs, tone stilted but earnest. “Don’t… don’t make me regret trying to rebuild this, okay?”
Your own shoulders slump in relief. “I won’t,” you promise. Your voice shakes with the weight of it. “And if I ever do, you can—and should—kick my ass.”
That draws a small, genuine laugh from her—a sound you haven’t heard in what feels like ages. She nods, letting the humor fill the space that was once suffocating with tension. “Deal,” she says.
You stay up later than expected—talking about nonsense, painting your nails in mismatched colors, occasionally lapsing into awkward silences.
But each time, one of you breaks it before the air can go stale. By the time midnight rolls around, you’ve settled into a strange new normal: not quite what you were before the betrayal, but not strangers anymore. Something between you is mending, fragile but real.
When you leave, she walks you to the front door. It’s still weird, stepping out into the hallway where so much damage happened.
But Evie’s behind you, not in front, and you can’t help feeling that the dynamic has changed in a way that actually might last. You glance back at her, and though she still looks tired, she doesn’t look hostile or betrayed. Maybe just… cautious. It’s enough.
“Night,” she says, one hand resting on the doorknob.
“Night,” you reply, voice quiet. “Thanks, again.”
She nods and closes the door gently behind you—no slamming, no huffing. Just a simple, private goodbye.
As you slip into the night, you realize you’re smiling, mind already whirring with what you’ll tell Heeseung when you see him next. You catch yourself wondering if you’ll meet up for another date soon. Or if you’ll just call him on the way home, excitedly spilling the details of your slow but tangible progress with Evie.
-
The new place is barely furnished. A couch that’s still covered in plastic. A mattress on the floor. Takeout containers littering the kitchen counter. The floorboards creak with every step. The windows are wide open, and there are no curtains yet. It’s not home—not really—but it’s his.
And most importantly, it’s finally, blessedly, fucking private.
When he opens the door and lets you in, he doesn’t kiss you right away. He just watches you step inside like you’re something he’s trying to memorize. His hands stay in the pocket of his hoodie. His jaw’s tight. His eyes flicker to the bag in your hand, then to your shoes, then up your legs so slowly it makes you feel exposed even though you’re still fully dressed.
You don’t say anything at first. You set the wine down on the counter. You take in the space—empty and echoing—but your skin’s already buzzing. You hear the door close behind you with a soft click, and something shifts.
He clears his throat.
“I haven’t kissed you yet,” he says, voice low. “Not really.”
You turn to look at him. “No.”
There’s a beat.
“Can I?”
You nod.
And that’s it. That’s all it takes.
His hands are on your face before you can blink, warm and rough and needing. The kiss starts soft, but only for a breath. Then it turns—hungry, desperate, filthy. Your back hits the counter with a thud, his tongue already in your mouth, his body pressing into yours like he’s trying to crawl inside you through your lips.
You moan into him, and he groans, deep in his throat, like the sound broke whatever shred of self-control he was hanging onto.
“You have no idea,” he pants, mouth hot against your jaw, “how long I’ve wanted to ruin you in peace.”
Your shirt’s pulled up before you can answer, his mouth already sucking marks down your neck. His hands are everywhere—gripping your tits through your bra, unbuttoning your jeans, fingers slipping into your waistband like he owns the place. Like he owns you.
You gasp as his hand slides between your legs, cupping you through your underwear, his breath catching when he feels the heat there.
“Already wet?” he mutters, voice ragged. “Fucking knew it.”
He yanks your jeans down to your ankles, then sinks to his knees on the kitchen tile without another word. His hands push your legs apart, pulling one up to rest over his shoulder. And when his mouth presses to the soaked fabric of your panties, you cry out—sharp, helpless, needy.
“You wore these knowing I’d take them off with my teeth, didn’t you?” he growls, dragging the fabric aside with his nose, his tongue already lapping through your folds like he’s been waiting for this for months.
You can barely breathe. One hand flies to the counter for balance, the other fists in his hair. He licks you with obscene, wet sounds, groaning into your pussy like the taste is sending him over the edge. You grind against his face shamelessly, whining when he flattens his tongue and drags it up through your slit, over and over again.
“Fuck, Heeseung—please—”
He pulls back just enough to spit directly on your clit. “What do you need, baby?” he pants, thumb spreading it around with tight, deliberate pressure. “You want me to make you cum with my mouth like a good little whore? Is that it?”
You nod frantically, hips rocking against his hand.
“I missed this pussy,” he mutters, diving back in. “Missed how fucking loud she is.”
And she is. Your pussy’s wet, sloppy, noisy, every flick of his tongue echoing off the bare walls. You cum hard, legs shaking around his shoulders, crying out his name as your vision blurs.
But he’s not done.
He stands, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, then grabs you by the waist and turns you around, bending you over the counter.
“No more pretending,” he growls in your ear. “No more quiet. You’re gonna scream for me this time.”
He pulls your panties down and spreads you open, groaning like a man unhinged.
“God, you’re dripping. You fucking missed this too, didn’t you?”
You try to answer, but he’s already stroking his cock against your folds, rubbing the head through the mess between your legs, smearing it everywhere.
“Say it,” he demands.
“Yes—yes, I missed it—fuck, Heeseung, I missed your cock—”
He sinks into you in one sharp, brutal thrust, and you wail.
No condom. No pause. Just the stretch of him filling you up in one smooth, devastating stroke.
“Oh my God,” he groans. “You’re fucking swallowing me.”
You’re moaning, writhing, drooling onto the counter. He doesn’t start slow. He doesn’t give you time. He fucks you—relentless, pounding, like he’s been waiting to do this since the moment you first touched him.
Your ass slaps against his thighs with every thrust. Your pussy is loud, the kind of wet, messy squelch that would embarrass you if you could think.
He slaps your ass hard, making you jolt forward. “Listen to her,” he growls. “She’s been crying for me.”
You don’t stop him. You beg for more.
He grabs your arms and pulls you back onto him, using your own body to fuck you harder.
“Keep taking it,” he snarls. “Be my good little cumrag, just like you used to be.”
You scream. You scream for him.
You cum again, sobbing into the crook of your arm, your entire body trembling.
He pulls out and flips you around, lifts you up onto the counter again, and kisses you like he’s devouring you from the inside out. Your legs are trembling so hard you can barely hold them up, but he spreads them open and spits straight onto your cunt, rubbing it in with two fingers, moaning when you jolt at the sensitivity.
“Wanna fuck you on the floor next,” he mutters against your lips. “Wanna fuck you on the mattress, on the couch, against every wall. Wanna ruin this apartment with the sound of your pussy screaming for me.”
You grab his face, breath ragged. “Then do it.”
He throws you over his shoulder and carries you to the mattress on the floor, where he fucks you in every position he’s ever imagined. He keeps you cockdrunk and leaking. When your voice gives out, he fucks you in silence. When your legs stop working, he props them up and keeps going. And when he finally cums—inside you, deep, claiming—he doesn’t pull out.
He just collapses on top of you, both of you drenched in sweat and slick and the aftermath of something feral.
You can’t move.
You don’t want to.
You just lie there, shaking, full, used, satisfied in a way that makes you dizzy.
Heeseung kisses your shoulder and whispers against your skin.
bnd 04z x reader [smut, fem!reader, soft dom!leehan, hard dom!taesan, leehan x taesan]
warnings: SMUT!!!!!! MDNI!!!!!!!, use of real names, threesome😛, reader is in established relationship w/ leehan, dom!04z, mostly sub!reader, degradation, blowjobs, cunnilingus, boys kissing, dacryphilia, overstimulation, cum play, unprotected sex, this has EVERYTHING!
23:09 - “leehan stop!” you exclaimed, though doing nothing to help the situation while straddling his lap.
his lips were on your neck, leaving wet kisses and certainly some marks. his big hands were cupping your ass, keeping you firmly on his lap, slightly pushing you forward just enough to grind his hard length against your heat.
“donghyun,” you whined, “we can have sex, i just… let’s go to your bedroom, please!”
leehan just pulled away from your neck, flashing you a teasing smile before pulling your t-shirt up so he had access to your boobs. you whimpered, so, so afraid that one of the members could just stroll in at any moment. you pulled your t-shirt back down, covering leehan’s head with it.
it didn’t deter him, your boyfriend now continuing his assault all over the fat of your boobs spilling out your bra. you closed your eyes, letting out a breathy moan as he massaged one of them in his hand, letting his tongue flick over your nipple of the other.
“s-stop…” you moaned, leehan laughing at the sound.
“so unconvincing, princess,” he responded, a smug smile on his hidden face, “you’re gonna have to try harder than that.”
you whimpered, placing your hand on the back of his head to shove him back between your tits. your eye lids were fluttering between closed and open, between pleasure and making sure no one walks in.
“he’s right,” taesan’s voice suddenly came. your head snapped to the door, gasping loudly as you almost fell off leehan’s lap; his hands moving to save you, his mouth not moving off of marking your boobs. “didn’t realise you two were such sluts, though. good for you.”
“tae– i’m so—” you cut yourself of with a moan as leehan sucked on your nipple. you clamped your lips shut, embarrassed to be making those noises in front of one of leehan’s members. taesan’s eyebrows raised. “i’m so sorry– i’m trying to get him— donghyun stop!”
leehan slowly pulled his head out from under your top, looking at you with an innocent, confused look on his face before offering a small smile to taesan.
“you alright?” he said.
taesan nodded, coming to sit beside the pair of you, stretching his arms up above his head as he clicked his jaw, “yeah, bit tired. woonhak’s being annoying so i came downstairs. this is a lot more entertaining though.”
“right?” leehan smirked, not taking his eyes off you. “want a turn?”
taesan smiled, turning to look at you. he tutted in thought, cocking his head. “i don’t know. i usually prefer the bed, you know? i’m not a slut, like some people.”
you rolled your eyes, feeling frustrated and annoyed at both boys now. you grabbed them both by the ear, dragging them to leehan’s bedroom. taesan’s pleas to let him go fell on deaf ears as leehan just laughed.
“i’m so fucking horny so one of you better do something soon or i’m sorting myself out,” you said, throwing taesan down on the bed. leehan stood behind you with a proud smirk on his face as he looked past you at his friend.
“darling,” leehan spoke, placing his hands on your hips, his mouth right next to your ear, “why don’t you show dongmin-ie all the pretty little marks i just left on you?”
you bit your cheek, suddenly becoming shy as the reality dawned on you of what was about to happen. you pulled your shirt off in one swift motion, leehan beginning to nibble at your neck after you did so. taesan sat up on the bed, resting on his elbows, a smile spreading across his face as he looked at your marked-up boobs, decorated wet with spit. he bit his lip, sitting forward and reaching a hand up your skirt.
“you’re so wet, princess,” taesan said, teasingly using the nickname he’d heard come from leehan’s lips so often, “i guess you like having your tits played with, huh?”
you swallowed, leehan chuckling as he gripped your hair, moving your head in an up and down motion; a forced agree to taesan’s question.
“what about your pussy, hmm?” taesan asked, his big brown eyes glistening up at you in curiosity as his fingers played with the waistband of your panties. you were stood in between his legs now as he sat on the edge of the bed.
“she loves it so much,” leehan drawled, pulling your skirt down to leave you in your soaked panties as both boys smirked, “says she can’t even touch herself anymore, always needs someone else playing with her.”
“is that so?” taesan asked, “wow, you really are a princess, hmm?”
you looked at him shyly, leehan rolling his eyes before agreeing for you again. “why are you being so shy today?! you usually can’t shut up. go on princess, lie down.”
you smiled slightly, laying down on the bed, before suddenly feeling scrutinised under the view of both boys.
“go on, dongmin,” leehan said, motioning to the foot of the bed, “play with her pussy. she’s gonna use her mouth on me like she always does, right princess?”
you nodded, still too shy to say much in front of taesan. though he was now kneeling in front of your open legs, spreading your thighs to expose the visible wet patch of your panties to him.
you fought against his grip, trying to close your thighs again as taesan’s hold suddenly strengthened, slamming your thighs to the bed. he tutted, “there’s no need to be so shy, princess. i’ve heard all of your noises before. i’m right there, you know?”
he pointed up to the ceiling, as you swallowed thickly. he was right, and you’d never thought of it before.
“i hear all your moans for your precious donghyun-ie,” he teased, leaning forward, his lips ghosting over yours as his hot breath fanned over your mouth, “and your sobs? oh god, your noises are so beautiful, y/n.”
a smile started growing on your face before you bit your lip, leehan was stroking your hair as he sat beside your upper body, both of you staring down at taesan as he moved between your legs. he was laying on his stomach, legs off the end of the bed as he placed soft, slow kisses to your inner thighs, still held down by his strong grasp.
you shivered, mouth falling open to let out shaky breaths. leehan smiled down at you, kissing your forehead gently, “you like that, princess? you like dongmin-ie’s mouth?”
you nodded quickly, leehan’s hand intertwining with yours as he used his other hand to take off his clothes. he was left in his boxers, his cock head poking out the top of the tenting material. you bit your lip, letting go of his hand to brush lightly over his covered cock. he smiled down at you with a loving gaze.
taesan stole your attention quickly, dragging your panties down your legs and ripping them off, keeping them balled up in his hand as he leaned down, blowing cold air onto your cunt.
you gasped, bucking your hips as taesan smirked at you. he leaned forward, kissing the skin before using his tongue to circle your clit. you whined out a moan, leehan laughing at your pretty noises.
“can you help me out, princess?” leehan cooed, his hand resting atop your head as he finally rid himself of his boxers. you watched taesan’s eyes, flicking up quickly to see his friend’s cock before returning to the task at hand.
you nodded desperately at seeing your boyfriend’s length. he straddled your body, your hands holding onto his thighs as you took his thick length in your mouth. leehan was always gentle, rarely breaking away from being a soft dom. you were unequivocally his princess, so even as he thrust into your mouth, he made sure to go slowly, checking your eyes to see for any pain or discomfort.
you, on the other hand, loved it. watching leehan’s face above you, screwing up in pleasure, eyes rolling back, sweating, moaning; having the view of his cock in your mouth and his face was everything you could dream of, and it wasn’t often you chose this position. not ever, in fact; but when taesan was abusing your clit so badly that you can’t concentrate on your boyfriend’s cock for moaning, leehan knew exactly the position he wanted.
leehan’s hands gripped onto the headboard, watching your eyes roll back in your hand, your tongue flattening around the underside of his cock as you paid more attention to taesan’s mouth. leehan’s heart sped up, biting his lip as he stroked your hair.
“is he making you feel good, darling?” leehan cooed, tears lining your eyes as you nodded, “doing so well for both of us.”
taesan chuckled behind leehan, “such a slut, isn’t she? she’s leaking all over the bed.”
“she’s never had two at once,” leehan commented, your eyes locked as he looked at you lovingly, “but you’re right, she’s a cockslut, i’m sure she’s loving it. isn’t that right, princess?”
you nodded, swallowing around leehan’s cock as he groaned. “you should see her face, dongmin. she looks wrecked.”
taesan laughed evilly, feeling your cunt tighten around his fingers, “come on, princess. cum all over my mouth.”
leehan smiled, watching with raised eyebrows and an open mouth in expectation as your body writhed round the bed, moans vibrating against his cock as you rode out your orgasm against taesan’s tongue.
“good girl,” leehan smiled, his hands cupping your jaw as he leaned down to kiss your forehead, removing himself from your body. taesan’s hands were a bruising grip on your hips, his teasing smirk being revealed to you as you were left panting on the bed.
you sat up, crawling to taesan. his big lips were swollen, your juices around his mouth as he smirked, sizing you up. you smiled, placing a hand on the back of his head and pulling him in for a kiss. his eyes darted to leehan quickly as you were pulling him towards you, his friend smiling at the two of you, sitting on the bed behind you; taesan letting himself be taken by you and your soft lips. he was moaning into the kiss, your tongues swirling around, spit and remainders of your cum dripping down both of your chins.
he pulled away, both of you panting as you bit your lip. “what?” you asked, taesan shaking his head in response. your boyfriend’s hand on your waist caught your attention, turning round with a smile on your face to do the same to him.
leehan groaned into the kiss, the familiar feeling of your lips on his was heaven to him. taesan felt himself getting harder as he watched, biting his lip to conceal the feeling. he shouldn’t feel like that from hearing his friend moan.
“go on then,” you said, breathless as you wiped your mouth after pulling away from leehan. the boys looked at you confused as you smiled, placing your hand on the back of both of their necks. “this is a threesome isn’t it?” you giggled, whispering your words as if they were a dirty secret.
taesan furrowed his eyebrows even more, looking at you panicked before looking at leehan who had his eyebrows raised. he looked back to you, who was now pouting at him. “please, taesannie? for me?”
the boy swallowed thickly, biting his lip and leaning into the kiss. you smirked, watching your boyfriend moan once again as his lips were bitten and sucked on by his friend. taesan’s hand flew to his hardened length, palming it harshly. you smiled.
“sannie?” you cooed, playing with the hair at the base of his neck. he pulled away, breathless and looking wrecked beyond belief. a string of saliva connected their swollen lips, “can i use your cock?”
he groaned, nodding desperately as he laid your body down, chasing your lips as he went. leehan helped remove his clothes, first his t-shirt, then his sweatpants, taesan beginning to pull off his boxers without any encouragement.
you pulled away from his lips, the boy sat up on his knees in between your legs. leehan joined you as you laid at the head of the bed, both of you staring at taesan’s cock with open mouths.
“what?” he asked, breathlessly.
you bit your lip, as leehan began nodding. you swallowed, “just- big. yeah.”
he gave a confused glance between you, jerking himself off a couple times as his cock got even harder. leehan chuckled, leaning forward to kiss at your neck as taesan lined his cock up with your entrance.
“wait— condom?” you asked, sitting up quickly, leehan reaching into the bedside table and grabbing one out the box without even replying.
taesan reached out to grab the unwrapped latex, but leehan just smiled at him. holding the edges of the condom, he rolled it onto his friend’s cock. taesan’s head fell back, a long groan falling from his lips. before he could process what had just happened, he lined his cock up with your entrance and pushed the tip inside. you hissed as your back arched, taesan moaning as your tight walls clenched around him, squeezing his head, inviting him in even more.
his eyes were hooded as he pushed in inch by inch, looking up to lock eyes with leehan. the younger boy just smiled at him, knowing the exact feeling of your cunt around his cock, he could almost feel it like a phantom around his exposed length. taesan’s mouth hung open as he finally bottomed out, leehan chuckling before being cut off as you moved your hand to wrap around the base of his dick, moans spilling out of his mouth instead as you quickly started jerking him off, using the precum on his tip as lube.
taesan smirked, his eyeline flitting down to your hand on his friend’s cock. he swallowed, his dick throbbing at the whole experience.
“can i move?” he breathed, looking back to your face as you nodded, stilling your hand on leehan for a moment as taesan pulled his hips out until only the tip remained, smashing his hips back in, his balls slapping against your ass as he created a fast paced rhythm immediately.
leehan’s eyes were stuck on where your bodies met, your wetness spilling out, visible on your folds and the base of taesan’s cock. he’d had the fantasy of seeing you be fucked by someone else for so long, he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. he reached his hand down slowly, his finger coming into contact with your clit, beginning to rub circles slowly. your back arched, moaning at the sudden sensation. taesan smiled, longing to lean down and kiss you, inhale the moans you were producing; but leehan’s body was in the way.
oh fuck it.
continuing his brutal pace on your hole, he grabbed leehan’s face with one hand, pulling him forward and crashing his lips to the other boy’s. you opened your eyes, laughing slightly at the new development as both boys started moaning into the kiss. you reached down, grabbing leehan’s cock once again and starting to jerk him off, trying to match the pace taesan held inside you.
all three of you were squirming bodies, moaning messes. but taesan broke first.
“i— i’m gonna cum,” he groaned, his hand gripping harshly on leehan’s long blonde hair. he let go suddenly, gripping onto your hips as he drove into you, speeding up to chase his orgasm. your hand moved to tease your boyfriend’s balls, his tip, not even attempting to keep the pace with taesan’s hips anymore. leehan was next, taesan a panting mess over your body as he looked up in interest at his friend, hips jerking and eyes squeezed shut, a hand gripping the bed sheets, the other on your thigh as he came all over your body.
“ugh– god! y/n, so fucking good,” he swore, your hand speeding up to drive him over the edge of overstimulation as you knew he liked, “fuck! taesan!”
you smirked, watching taesan’s shocked face as he took in the cum all over your naked body and the fresh spurts still leaking from his friend’s tip. you finally stopped your movement, leehan left panting over your body as taesan sighed.
“princess hasn’t cum yet, leehan-ie,” he pouted, “we can’t leave her out, right?”
leehan smirked, nodding along with a pout, “absolutely not. not when she’s been so good for us.”
he ushered taesan out the way, lining his cock up with your entrance, already hardening again at the view of your spent body and swollen, abused pussy. he bottomed out all in one, leaving you squirming and gasping as leehan moaned.
taesan smirked, holding your head in his lap as he let leehan go to town on your body in the way he’d become so accustomed to over the course of your relationship. his fingers worked on your clit as his cock hit deep inside of you, your head thrashing about on taesan’s lap, your hands gripping his tightly as he cooed down at you.
“come on, princess, you can take it,” he said, stroking your face gently, “such a cockslut, having two dicks in one night. you fucking love it.”
you were panting, your body hurtling towards an orgasm. suddenly, you watched as taesan leaned forward and gathered leehan’s cum on his fingers from the pool on your stomach, shoving his soaked fingers past your lips as you continued moaning around them, swallowing as best you could.
“good girl,” leehan murmured, leaning forward and kissing your collarbone, “gonna cum for me, yeah? go on, darling.”
leehan’s fingers worked quickly on your clit, the stimulation driving you to orgasm as the two boys held your body down, moans flying out past taesan’s fingers, tears spilling out your eyes at all the feelings all over your body. one touch felt like a million needle pricks, your body on fire with stimulation and need.
finally, taesan removed his fingers from your mouth, and leehan removed his cock from your leaking hole, your body limp against the mattress. taesan quickly left to go to the bathroom, gathering tissues and a damp cloth as leehan leaned forward, kissing your lips gently.
“hey beautiful,” he whispered, kissing your nose softly as you whined up at him, your body so spent you didn’t know if you could move, “did so good for us. come on, we’ll clean you up and then we can cuddle.”
taesan smiled, almost awkwardly, as he wiped up your juices and leehan’s cum from your body, offering some tissues to his friend too. leehan chuckled, rolling his eyes.
“don’t be weird,” he said, brushing taesan’s hair out his eyes, “you want to cuddle with us too?”
you smiled up at him as he abandoned the damp cloth on the bedside table. he sighed, laying down next to you without answering. you snuggled into his body, leehan laughing, “i guess that’s a yes then.”
taesan sighed, eyes closing as leehan organised the duvet over your bodies, “only if i can join again.”
✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ [ot10 x reader] ...୨♡୧... w. curse words, slightly suggestive! ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ
ᯓ minjae.
ᯓ junmin.
ᯓ sumin.
ᯓ jinsik.
ᯓ hyunwoo.
ᯓ junghoon.
ᯓ seeun.
ᯓ yujun.
ᯓ hunter.
ᯓ yechan.
★ blue's corner ;; can you see im completely delusional? hopefully ! credits for the idea to my deluluness partner @tiramisumin
★ taglist ;; @tiramisumin @astrasng
★ back to the (temporary) masterlist.
★ please do not copy, adapt or steal any of the content !!!
omgg hii i feel like a POS cuz i never came back to thank u😔 and for that im rly sorry i swear i reblogged tho,!!! thank u so much for posting the second part of ur sungchan fic!! riding his face is not a want… its a need. 🙂↕️🙂↕️🙂↕️ u did everyone a huge service and for that i salute u🫡 i loved it sm it was sooo good i was eating it up thank u thank u thank uuu!!!
i hope ur doing well!!🫶🏻🫶🏻
hihihiiii ong don’t feel bad i feel terrible for the wait being so long (and it’s kinda shit writing let’s be real) i’m definitely in a much better zone now
thank you for enjoying it and having faith in me🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻
genre. boyfriends best friend!sungchan x taken!reader
word count. 4k
warnings. smut (mdni), infidelity, talks of drugging, somnophilia, fingering, tit sucking(tit play idfk), oral (f rec), cum eating, face riding, squirting, sungchan is incredibly up and down in toxic and being down bad. lemme know if there’s anything else
authors note. tysm to the anonnie who sent this very sorry once again for how long it took and i don’t think it’s that good either. But toxic sungchan is something else ong.
part one
“Fuck that girl keeps messaging me.” A pissed looking Seunghan walks into the lounge where Sungchan resides, his hands gripping his phone in distress.
Sungchan, too engrossed in the show he was enjoying, barely bats an eye at the younger “What girl?” hand reaching for the snack you had laid out for the boys barely an hour ago.
“That fucking girl from the party a few weeks ago don’t you remember?” Seunghan questions sitting opposite Sungchan on the lounge chair.
Oh Sungchan doesn’t just remember. That night has replayed in his wet dreams, what he did to you and what he should’ve continued doing to you but no. You went back to your cheater boyfriend. Who cares if he was drugged and who cares that it was him who did it. No one, because no one will ever find out. That night is constantly on replay in his mind what he would do for another taste of your cunt or to see the struggle on your face as you take him down your throat.
There’s been times when he thinks he’s got you to himself again before you run off back into your boyfriend's arms. Like just last week he caught you exiting the bathroom as he was about to shower post dance practice. A shocked ‘hey’ from you while simultaneously trying to leave the potential conversation was enough for Sungchan to try again.
Pushing you against the closed door, body to body so close the dampness of your towel stains his clothes. His hand reaches up to your exposed collar bone thumb stroking over where the water dripped. You swallow before quietly voicing out “I need to get changed, I don’t want to do anything…” your voice trails off as you look into his eyes before peering down again.
Sungchan takes this as a sign to try again and continues stroking your collarbone “and you’re sure you don’t want to-“ he pauses as his hand slides up to the top of his jacket where his zipper lay just under the dog tag he wore. slowly unzipping the jacket to reveal the bare skin of his toned stomach underneath it “…do anything with me?” He finishes the sentence in a teasing tone.
Your face never once dropped the shocked expression during the conversation and now staring at his abs left a funny feeling inside your stomach. So what was the best thing to do in that situation? Run. All the way back to the safety of your boyfriend's room. That was okay for Sungchan though he knew you would come crumbling down eventually and the plus side of you running away was the tiny towel barely covering your ass. Did he jerk off in the shower to the thought of your ass, so what? It’s not like that doesn’t happen daily.
A puff of annoyance leaves Seunghans mouth. “She wants me to come see her…should I just go to try and clear things up?” He looks at his brother for advice, the older one staring into the ceiling. After the ‘incident’ Seunghan never found out what the two of you had done, if Sungchan were a great friend the perfect time to tell him it would be right now so Seunghan wouldn’t have to deal with the stress. But Sungchan has never been a great friend so to speak.
Sungchan ponders for a moment before speaking “Look bro, if it was me I’d deal with it now- and make sure to take your time to explain what happened and try to hear her out too.” The words of advice were clouded with the thoughts of spending alone time with you but Seunghan couldn’t differentiate help from his friend vs his friend trying to fuck his girlfriend.
Yet he still wasn’t convinced. “How am I gonna-“, he pauses in an upsetting tone, “What if Y/n wakes up and wonders where I am?” Seunghan runs his hands over his face, obviously distressed at the situation of the girl not exactly getting the hint yet Sungchan happens to live in La La Land where all he thinks of is a certain girlfriend of his frat ‘brother’.
A slight smirk appears on his face, “Don’t worry bro, I'll make sure she’s distracted.” Sungchan’s hand claps at the back of Seunghan as if to reassure him when nothing but the opposite lies in his mind. “Go sort your shit out, take as long as you need.”
A sigh of relief falls from Seunghan's mouth, as simple as that Seunghans out the door and out of his way, “Thanks bro, I can't imagine losing her over this.”
…well…someone can.
Because if Sungchan were a predator you lying right upstairs would be his prey. Fast asleep in a shirt way too big to be yours with baby pink panties on show for anyone to see. Quiet, stealthy movements are made so Sungchan doesn’t awaken you from slumber. It’s simple, really sneak in, lock the door and lay his head next to your pretty body. He can see the fresh puddle of drool you’ve left on the sheets, his finger runs along the opening of your mouth collecting the saliva.
Pulling his shorts down he runs the saliva coated finger across his tip, the cooling sends a rush through his cock and his mind and suddenly his tip is tracing around your parted lips catching the drool that leaks. He imagines it was his cum leaking from your mouth instead. His body shivers, pushing his tip just inside your open mouth and maneuvering past your teeth barely grazing against your tongue.
Fuck…
Sungchans thoughts ran wild, you were here laid out for him. What could he do to you? What could he do for you? He knew you couldn’t be satisfied with whatever Seunghan was doing, he’s constantly bragging about how routinely you go down on him and yet never reciprocates. He’d overheard you talk about trying new things to be immediately shut down. He would never treat you like that, never.
With his thoughts running a mile a minute he hasn’t noticed his cock slipping further into your mouth. Lips stretched but you’re yet to take even a third of his cock inside them. Looking at your body sprawled out, slipping his dick from your mouth. The pretty pink panties are too distracting for Sungchan so it’s not his fault when his hand obviously finds itself resting on your thigh, fingertips edging to touch the silk material.
Fuck it.
Laying himself back beside you his fingers edge along the outside of the material stroking along your upper thigh. Slowly slipping inside with one finger had little to no resistance. Did Seunghan fuck you before he left? Sungchan let the deranged thoughts ramble on in his mind, suddenly pushing in a second finger, this time tighter than before.
His mood livened up as he took one look at your now open eyes, his tone coming out softly “Shh, baby it’s okay.” he turned to press open mouth kisses into your neck, his fingers still inside of you. Curling inside to create a reaction from you, the little whine was not left unheard by Sungchan as he continued his motions.
Grabbing onto his arm another whine left your lips “S-seunghan is downstairs…please,” You begged, weariness in your vision was blocked by the attacks to your core. His face turned sour and thrusts became rougher at the mention of your boyfriend. Turning your eyes to look at him you plead,“ Sungchan… please don’t, he’ll be so mad at me.” He smirks in response lips pressed into your neck, he can feel how your heart is racing whether at the thought of him fucking you or Seunghan finding out. The irritation fueled by the fact that you’re Seunghan‘s is overpowering. His fingers slow in movements as he moves to look you in the eye.
“Don’t you remember why this happened in the first place, because your little boyfriend went and fucked another girl didn’t he?” The irritated tone mixed with the words felt like a dagger into your heart. Your eyes turn down like a puppy when their owners are mad. It wasn’t exactly a lie, Sungchan thought. A tear falls down your face, a perfect distraction to get back on track with the plan.
Sungchan’s position moves in concern, his weight moves to his elbow puncturing the bed as his body engulfs you. His hand caresses your cheek wiping the stray tear away making you look back into his eyes. “Oh baby, I struck a nerve didn’t I?” you sniffle at his words and nod all while not breaking eye contact. “The only tears i want to see from you-“ he pauses to place a kiss on your forehead, “Come from when i’m fucking into your sweet cunt okay?” The question caught you off guard. Not like this whole situation hasn’t caught you off guard but anyhow. The way his head tilted with his questioning tone still unable to break eye contact with you makes you let out a whimpered response.
“Tell me baby, are you gonna let me fuck you?” The question hangs in the air for a moment or two before you mumble out a ‘yes’. The look on his face tells you it wasn’t good enough thoughts racking his brain until “You gonna tell me who’s fucking you?” a confused expression braced your face before your head hit back on the pillow. Sungchan’s cock sinking into you, the burning stretch causing a moan to leave your lips and your hand reaches to grip his bicep.
“Sungchan, fuck” the whining continues as his cock sinks balls deep, patiently waiting for you to stretch around his cock. The look on your face would be enough to have him cum, your head on its side but your eyes still looking at him and your mouth drooling on the pillow. His hand finds its way back to your face, thumb lingering on the pool of drool near your mouth thumbing over your bottom lip.
“Never fucked anyone this big huh? Need some extra time to stretch this pussy out don’t I baby?” His words were spinning around your brain. Nodding at his words you can feel the stretch sting as he bottoms out. His voice echoes around the room, his eyes locked with yours when he groans “Gonna treat this pussy so good, like it deserves.”
Repeated moans of his name fall from your mouth as he hits his cock further into you. His hands push against your thighs spreading you open til they reach the bed below you.
“It’s okay baby, I got you” His voice soothing to the almost painful position. His hand pulls you up from where you lay on your stomach, pulling your arm behind you while you place your other on the soft bedding, your knees bending themselves into the bed. His cock glides right back into you startling you, your hand trying to find him to stabilize yourself. The pace vigorous as your ass meets his stomach, slurring out his name when his tip hits your cervix.
“You don’t know how long i’ve been waiting to fuck you,” He groaned, his fingertips leaving marks on your ass. “Needed this, needed to be inside you.” The hand that grips your arm moves you down towards the bed to hit deeper inside you.
With your head in the pillows there are no thoughts on your mind, just laying there taking the abuse from his cock. Sungchans cock. Not your boyfriend but his best friend, the one who’d been lurking around waiting for a slight chance for Seunghan to fuck up and to grab your attention.
And that he did.
Flipping you on your back his thrusts getting faster and deeper like it was somehow possible to fit his thick length in you. His eyes locked in on your facial expressions, the way your eyes creased through every stroke and how your mouth would open ever so slightly when he hit deep inside you. Wasting no time in ripping off the shirt his hands running all over your body stopping to grasp and your tits and thumb over your nipple before sliding down to your core. The gentle hands that ran over your body were replaced with quick flicks of his thumb over your clit drawing you closer to the edge.
Mouthing along your jaw he moves up to your ear, “you gonna cum baby?” Your whines only get louder as he continues his pace. Head flailing around your hand moves over his body desperate to grip something. Feeling his hand gripping your chin stops you from thrashing around, eyes opening to his staring right back at you “Who’s making you cum y/n?” he asks the glare in his eyes as he continues his ministrations.
“Ahh, Sungchan fuck,” you moan out, feeling his cock thrusting into you. “I wanna cum Sungchan, please.” You continue, otherwise speechless at this whole scenario you’re unable to do anything except beg for more.
Your body froze as you spilled around his cock, walls tightening around him as your orgasm took over. Sungchan continued his thrusts, not stopping until he could fill you up, fucking into you until you were shaking and spilling out what you could of his name as he emptied himself into you.
Slowly resting himself against you, not to scare you from your daze and after taking a couple of moments to calm your breathing Sungchan pulls out with a hiss. Sinking back into his knees he watches his seed flow out of you.
“Made such a pretty mess in you.” His fingers reach for your abused folds covered in his cum. You whimper in response, thighs closing at the lingering touch ‘don’t look ‘s embarrassing’ fumbles from your lips only for sungchan to slide his finger to push the cum back inside only for more to leak out.
“Fuck that’s so sexy, my girl filled up with my cum,” He moves back up your body to whisper in your ear. “You love it don’t you baby, being filled with my cum.” Pressing slow, soft kisses into your neck. You whine at his touch, slowly coming back to your senses.
His lips are on yours without a second to think. Your swollen lips are gently nibbled on as he slips his tongue into your mouth. His ministrations last for a while longer as his hand runs through your hair slowly moving himself onto the bed and you settled in his lap. Zero thoughts running through your mind as his lips move down your neck towards your chest.
Sucking on your collarbone he moves slowly down, leaving lingering kisses and marks, towards your tits. Pulling you somehow closer his mouth sinks down to your nipple as his hand grips at the flesh Suckling at the bud he notices how shaky your breath and body have gotten, making cute little noises. Pulling back he stares up at you as his tongue darts out to flick at your nipple, the fast stimulation
“Fuck need you on top of me,” He says in between breaths you move to place yourself on his cock, pussy still dripping with his cum but he stops your movements. “Wrong way angel, need you on my face.” The shock stops you from moving. He can sense something is wrong
“Don’t tell me he’s never eaten you out before,” His voice jerks in a laughing tone but all he gets from you is silence and a glass eyed look. His face drops, smirking on the inside. “Oh angel, let me show you what you’re missing out on.” His arms guide you up and over his face positioning you so that his lips are in line with your hole.
Your body still shaking at the thought of the situation, Seunghan had never eaten you out let alone made you sit on his face, the thoughts swimming around in your brain left you stuck hovering over his face. Sungchan’s hands caress your outer thighs, he would just have to take matters into his own hands. Craning his neck up his lips meet your cum soaked cunt, he lets his nose nestle between your wet folds as he begins kissing your cunt. Still shaking although more intense a whine is released from your chest at the feeling.
He drags his tongue through your folds, tasting the mix of your cum; sucking, swirling his tongue into your hole trying to clean up what he selfishly sunk into you. Body jolting as moans fall from your lips. Sungchan slowly pushes his head back into the pillow, slow enough where you subconsciously follow his lips down, unable to think about sitting on his face. You can feel Sungchan groan into your cunt, clearly enjoying the new weight on his face.
Your eyes screw shut as he continues to lap at your pussy. His nose hits your clit everytime you subconsciously grind into it.
Pulling away Sungchan pushes his face to the side lips placing wet kisses on your inner thigh. Opening your eyes you glance down at the sight of him, messy hair, slick covering his mouth and nose and his eyes sultry as he slightly smirks up at you, “You’re a natural baby, tell me how good I’m making you feel.” His fingers dip at your exposed core, drowning two of them into your cunt as his lips lock around your clit.
The mix has your body convulsing in pleasure, you can hear how wet you are as his fingers stuff your walls. The feeling of your incoming orgasm is overwhelming, “Sungchan, wait- I’m gonna cum.” You gasp out the roughness of his fingers draining your voice out, tears well up in your eyes as you come closer to the edge. Sungchan can feel your orgasm run through you, he can also feel a gush of your release over his face.
His fingers prodding harder and faster, he needs you to squirt over his face. “I’m cumming- fuck, I’m cumming.” Your voice breaks in a squeal, your orgasm ripping through again with blinding intensity making tears roll down your cheeks.Your juices flooding his mouth as he groans at the feeling. The gush of warm fluid spraying against his face is a sensation you’ve never felt before, totally uncontrollable. Sungchan is in a state of pure bliss. The girl of his dreams being eaten out for the first time on top of him as she squirts on his face. His tongue never falters, licking up the release, messily drinking down what he caught in his mouth.
You can feel it everywhere, soaking the sheets, covering Sungchans face and neck. It’s filthy but nothing has ever felt better. Taking a moment you stare up at the ceiling coming down from your orgasm, slowing your breathing to try and calm down. Remembering you were still on top of Sungchan you jolted, earning a laugh from the man underneath. Moving backwards off him he stills you on his lap once again.
Sungchan’s hand lightly grasps your jaw, eyes locking with yours. Something about the way Sungchan looks at you makes you forget about Seunghan. In fact, you hadn't thought of him until this moment. The way he almost controls your body and brain when you’re together was so exhilarating. You’re pulled out of your thoughts by his thumb pulling at your lip. “I’d eat you out every minute of every day if I could,” His lips meeting yours, the taste of your essence lingering in his mouth.
If you still didn’t feel light headed after your orgasm you did now, something about the way Sungchan licks into your mouth consuming your breaths, thoughts and saliva was otherworldly. It was like you were the snake and his charmer music was his mouth. Under his spell his movements go unnoticed, his length hard again from you riding his face, hand jerking himself off under your pussy. His tip slightly touches your clit making you jump and whine into his mouth.
His mouth rips away from yours, hand grasping yours to stroke his cock together. Breaths panting and slick sounds from where you stroke him are the only sounds that linger in the room. The softness of your palm rilling him up, “Keep going angel and I’ll cum-“ he’s cut off by a groan as your finger tip dips into his slit, spilling more precum out. “You want me to cum inside you again? Yeah I know you do.” His slick covered hands glide along the side of your face. His voice sultry as he gets closer and closer to spilling. You push your face into his hand quickly moving yourself over his cock, lining up with your still swollen cunt Sungchan can help himself to push himself balls deep inside of you.
Gasps leave you lips at the feeling his slick cock gliding straight into you sets him off “-Fuck, squeeze me baby, i’m gonna cum,” he groans out finally meeting his breaking point, pumping his cum deep inside you. Warmth flooding your cunt as he filled you completely. The way his cock pulsed inside made you feel completely full and spent from today.
Slowly pulling out he lays you on the bed. Playing with your hair and leaving slow lingering kisses over your body. Pressing kisses into the junction of your neck whispering out praises, “It’s okay baby, I’ll never let him hurt you again,” A moment of silence passes through the room.
You can’t help but think that although your boyfriend cheated on you and that Sungchan was great in bed, it was no excuse for what you had done. What was Seunghan going to think if he finds you in bed with his friend, his frat brother of all people. Seunghan had never even brought it up to you? Did he really even cheat on you? Are you a cheater? Who the hell are you?
Negative thoughts swirled your brain for moments before you knew it a couple tears had fallen down your cheek, the anxiety nestled into your chest making it hard for you to breathe.
Brain jumbled at what to do. You knew the only thing that would keep you sane right now. “You have to leave before he comes in here Sungchan,” your voice drifts off into a whisper mentally and physically tired from being fucked into oblivion and the constant thoughts running around your brain. Your eyes slowly fill with tears as they threaten to roll down your face.
Sungchans face once red with lust is now red with rage. He stops for a second, “Are you fucking serious?” his tone filled with anger. He just fucked you til you cried, made you cum three times and properly ate you out when he found out Seunghan never does it and this is the treatment he gets. As much as it broke your heart to think of him leaving you, in such a state nonetheless, you needed space and time to think about what you were going to do about Seunghan.
“You still want to fuck him after this?” He scoffs, his tone laced with venom at the situation you seriously at choosing your dumb fuck boyfriend who is at another girls house right now after being fucked out of your mind.
“Be my guest, he’s gonna find my cum all up inside this pretty cunt when he eats you out,” his fingers pushing his cum deeper inside you as he licks and bites against your neck. “Sorry, that's if he eats you out.”
summary: sumin has a bad biting habit— and you are not exempt from it.
genre: fluff, slightly suggestive
warnings: biting (duh), a bit suggestive in the last scenario but it’s fluffy otherwise, sumin and reader are said to be the same age (20), in the first two scenarios sumin and reader aren’t dating yet (just crushes) but in the last two they are (//∇//)
a/n: my first xikers post! and also like my first full fic ever (⌒▽⌒) there’s a serious lack of xikers content on this site, i’ve already read through all of it 💀 but i hope this small fic is enough to make other roady’s on here happy too. i have a jinsik drabble im working on too so pls look forward to that (*´∇｀*) lowkey the second scenario gave me crazy butterflies like it made me giddy af (before the ending anyways) and i was the one that wrote it 😭 but i feel like my writing is super obviously amateur, which makes me a bit embarrassed but hopefully this is an enjoyable read anyways 。・°°・(＞_＜)・°°・。
sumin loved to use his teeth.
you found this out when you were both six and in elementary school and he bit you because you took the toy he was wanting to play with for recess. it went about as well as you’d imagine. you started crying before swinging the toy down and hitting sumin on the back with it, causing him to burst out into tears as well. in the end, both of your parents were called and you got the scolding of a life time from your mother when you got home.
sumin brought a sweet flavored candy the next day along with a slightly less sweet apology. he didn’t make eye contact with you and he mumbled out a simple “sorry” and nothing else before shoving the candy your way, but you accepted the both of them nonetheless. you gave him a toothy smile (which in sumin’s opinion was the sweetest thing he had with him that day, though he’d never admit it) before taking his hand in yours and dragging him out to play. despite the severely rocky start to your friendship, the both of you had been inseparable ever since.
maybe it was this first experience with each other that let you stay so close with each other even fourteen years later, because from the very beginning you knew what he was— a biter.
— !
the xiker’s boys had invited you over to one of their dorms for their monthly hangout night— ideally it would be a weekly thing, but their schedules never allowed for rest days that consistently. being sumin’s best friend since before he even knew about the existence of xikers, you had gotten pretty close with the rest of them. of course, sumin has and always will be your favorite— much to the disdain of the others.
you stood behind the couch with a smile on your face while seeun, minjae, and yechan occupied the cushions. all of your gazes were completely locked onto the tv, where a very intense and serious game of mario kart was occurring. “seeun, stop cheating!” minjae yelled out when said boy started to move into minjae’s space in an attempt to distract him, his body being bumped into yechan who was on his right. this only made yechan start to push back against minjae, eventually leading to the three boys getting into each others personal space in an attempt to completely sabotage their gameplay.
their shenanigans caused small giggles to leave your lips, completely unaware of the set of eyes that were locked onto you instead of the game. sumin stood off to the side by the dining table, leaning against the wall with a fond look on his face. when sumin had first thought of introducing you to his members, he was truthfully a little nervous. “what if they don’t like each other?” “what if they get into a fist fight?” “what if someone dies and the night is plagued with that experience forever and as a result they can never get along?” sumin knows now that all of those thoughts were absolutely ridiculous (some more so than others), but he truly just wanted all of his favorite people to like each other as much as he did.
“careful, if you stare any harder they might burst into flames.” the flat voice that seemingly appeared out of nowhere made sumin jump before he looked to his left where junghoon was eyeing him with his arms crossed and a knowing look on his face. sumin’s surprise relaxed before he tensed up again at junghoon’s implications. he forced out an awkward laugh and shook his head. “i don’t know what you’re talking about.”
junghoon didn’t say anything, but with a gaze like his, he didn’t really need to. his expression seemingly stayed the same, but sumin didn’t miss the way his eyes narrowed and his eyebrows subtly raised. sumin swallowed harshly and seemed to sink into himself as he looked away from junghoon in an unsuccessful attempt to escape his judgment. he looked back over to him before he let out a sigh of acceptance, reluctantly nodding gently. “yeah i know…” sumin mumbled before the sound of your laughter ringing through the air made him bring his attention back to you.
he smiled at how the sight of your smile filled his chest with warmth before he mindlessly started walking over to you, as if following you was simply second nature to him (and he really would follow you anywhere). he comes up behind you and wraps his strong arms around your waist, the sudden intrusion causing you to jump before you realize who it is and immediately relax. sumin rests his cheek on your shoulder and smiles up at you as you melt into his warmth. “hi.”
you raise your brow at him as the corner of your mouth starts to twitch up into a ghost of a smile. “hi.” you say back, making sumin’s grin grow before he nudges his face into the crook of your neck. you huff out a laugh and bring your hand up to tangle into his hair, lightly scratching at his scalp with your nails. the gentle feeling of your hand in his hair made his body involuntarily relax as he sighed out against your neck, his warm breath sending a shiver up your spine. you turn your attention back to the tv in front of you, but you’re more focused on the way sumin’s warm hands feel pressed against your stomach, his thumb soothingly rubbing back and forth.
“sumin! come help us cut vegetables.” hunter’s voice called out for him from the kitchen, causing you to jump slightly at the sudden sound and causing sumin’s shoulders to slump and let out a loud groan in protest. “less whining, more helping!” sumin sighed before he smiled in defeat, his teeth brushing against your neck as if forewarning what was to come. he quickly tightened his arms around your waist and bit into your shoulder before unwrapping himself from you and running off to where hunter needed him. “hey!” your hand comes up to touch the spot on your shoulder where his teeth had been, a disbelieving smile on your lips. sumin turns, scrunches his nose and sticks his tongue out at you, before turning the corner and disappearing off into the kitchen.
— !
it was one of the very rare times sumin had been granted a break by KQ, and a week long one at that. the company decided that they deserved it after their hard work promoting their recent comeback, but if they asked you, you would’ve said they deserved it always. while some of the boys decided to stay at the dorms, others had ventured their way back home to visit family, sumin being one of them. despite still going to visit him at the dorms often, it never felt like it was enough, so you were over the moon to have him back for a whole week.
the first day or two you had left him alone to spend some much needed time with his parents and brother, but after that he had crawled his way back to you, claiming that it had been too long since he last saw you (two days) and pestering you non-stop to spend the night. ‘just like humans need water to survive, sumins need y/ns to survive,’ is what he had said, which only earned him an eyeroll and light smack to the head.
and so, you both laid side by side in the dark of his room, the only light coming from the moon shining through the window. you laid on your side with your hands rested in the empty space between you two, close enough to feel the heat radiating from each other but not so close that you were actually touching.
you let out a soft giggle, trying your absolute hardest to stay quiet so as not to disturb his family from their sleep. “okay, okay. if you had to be stranded in the middle of space with any of your members, who would you pick?”
“i’d take my helmet off.” you let out a huff of air and smacked him on the arm, making sumin giggle out and put his hands up in surrender.
“okay, okay! i’m kidding! hm… jinsik.” sumin says with a decisive nod of his head. you smile and raise your eyebrows.
“really?” sumin lets out a small ‘mhm’ and nods making you hum in thought and nod slowly. a cheshire like smile grows on your face as an idea starts to form in your head. “that’s not that surprising i guess. if it was between being stuck in the middle of space with me or being stuck in the middle of space with jinsik, who would you choose?”
“you.”
he said the word with so much conviction, as if it was a message written by the hand of god himself and delivered to you through the mouth of sumin. the sturdiness of his word caught you off guard, your smile falling as everything grows quiet between the two of you. the rest of the world seems to fall away as you stare at him and he stares at you. you watch his eyes drift across your face: your eyes, your nose, your cheeks, your lips. you let your own eyes wander down to his lips, swallowing harshly when his gaze snaps back up to your eyes and catches you.
his hand shifts in the bed slightly, as if he was scared that any sudden movements would scare you off entirely; would scare you off eternally. when you don’t do so much as even flinch, he takes a deep, shaky breath as if to steel himself before he stretches out his pinky to gently touch the soft side of your hand. you look down at your hands before looking back into sumin’s eyes, your own pinky moving to gently rest itself over his. you sit like that for a moment, interlocking your pinkies before he gently takes your hand in his, intertwining your fingers together. you let the perfect feeling of his hand pressed against yours sink into your bones, seeping through the marrow to rest gently in the deepest part of your soul, where you decided it would stay protected for the rest of your life.
your heart stutters as he shuffles just that much closer, his eyes drifting back down to your lips. you subconsciously hold your breath in anticipation, the tension between you two looming over like a thick blanket. he blinks a few times, as if shaking a thought out of his head before he drags your connected hands up to his mouth and sinks his teeth into the plush skin on the side of your hand. you let out a gasp and squeal as you try to pry your hand from his assault, your joint laughters replacing the odd feeling that had overtaken the room previously. the tension disappeared, never to be mentioned again that night.
— !
you swung your arms back and forth as a gentle summer breeze blew through your hair, your sandals being held in one hand by the straps. you stared at the sandy ground, watching as the warm water of the ocean reached the tips of your toes only to slink back again as you waited for sumin to show up. you guys had been dating for about a month at this point and had hung out multiple times throughout, but this was your first official date. you had once mentioned to him offhandedly that you would’ve liked to go to the beach with a boyfriend, something you thought he would’ve long forgotten, but he surprised you when he asked if you were free that weekend, telling you he was taking you out on that date.
he had a short practice that morning so he told you to go on ahead and that he’d meet you there straight after. you were strung a bit tight from nerves, so you had gotten there about 15 minutes prior to the meet up time, so you knew you would be waiting a bit, but you still couldn’t help but feel nervous that maybe sumin was going to stand you up. you knew sumin, maybe even more than you knew yourself, so you know deep down he’d never do something like that, but your brain had a funny way of hating you, filling your head with negative thoughts. you gently walked back and forth a few paces along the shore line: what if he never shows up? what if after this date he decides he doesn’t really like me that way? what if he dies trying to meet me here?
“y/n!”
you hear a loud voice call for you from behind, turning to look over your shoulder at the source. and there he was: standing a few feet away at the top of the concrete steps leading to the beach, out of breath and a little sweaty, with a smile you thought burned you brighter than the hot summer sun ever could. sumin— your sumin.
you smile back and raise your hand to wave at him. he bolts towards you, skipping the last few steps of the stairs and stumbling from the unstable grounding of the sand before barreling towards you without any signs of slowing down. you giggle and brace yourself for impact before he reaches you, his arms coming out to wrap around your waist and lifting you up. he stumbles forward into the water, splashing some of it up onto you both, but neither of you can really bring yourselves to care all that much.
he shakes you around a bit before he sets you down, staring at you with a love sick smile as you giggle and fix your now messed up hair. “sorry i’m late.”
you shake your head at him. “you’re not late, i was just early.”
he pouts and affectionately squeezes your cheek between his pointer and thumb. “if i ever make you wait then that means i was late.” you scoff and roll your eyes at him but the sparkle in your eye never leaves. “now c’mon. we have a date to attend to.” he leans his face down close to yours, and you close your eyes and scrunch up your nose in surprise before his hot breath hits your cheek and his teeth sink into the warm skin on your face.
you blink in surprise at him as he pulls away with a teasing grin before it registers in your head what he had just done, your brows furrowing and your plump lips morphing into a pout. you had taken a deep breath in preparation to complain but before any words could be let out, he leaned down one more time to press a quick kiss to your cheek, clasping your hand in his and turning to walk towards one of the little food stands someone had set up along the coast. he stuck his tongue out at you through his teeth as if to say ‘gotcha’, but you couldn’t stop your own happy smile from forming on your face, your cheeks warming up from something other than the sun this time.
the feeling of his hand in yours feels different now than it did when you first took his hand on that playground all those years ago, but just like back then, it still feels like you’re holding something precious.
— !
sumin was currently at practice with the rest of his team members, but you missed him, so you were in his bed doom-scrolling on your phone while you waited for him to finish up with practice so you could surprise him. you check how much longer until sumin said he should be back: 30 minutes. you heave a loud sigh into the otherwise quiet room and drop your phone on the bed before closing your eyes and burying your face in his pillow, letting the scent of sumin’s cologne engulf you.
you’re not sure how long you lay like that, but pretty soon the sound of the door swinging open makes you lift your head from the fabric, looking over to the culprit. in the door frame stands an exhausted sumin, his movements sluggish and heavy. he looks up to find you tucked into his bed, his eyes lighting up when he catches sight of you, the view immediately filling him with new energy.
“baby!” he exclaims, dropping his bag on the floor unceremoniously before launching himself into your arms. you laugh at how he went from zero to one hundred in seemingly a split second as he wraps his arms around you and nuzzles into your neck. your arms come up to rest around his shoulders as your hand tangles into his soft hair. “missed you.” he mumbles out into your skin before pressing a kiss onto your neck, then your jaw, then your cheek, before your entire face has been touched by his lips. you giggle at the vibration of his words against your neck before the source of your laughs turn into the feeling of his lips on you, your hand on his back soothingly rubbing back and forth on his shoulder blades.
he pulls back to look into your eyes with a lovesick smile on his face, but you’re sure you look the same as you gaze into his eyes as well. his hand comes up to cup your cheek, the pad of his thumb rubbing back and forth on your cheek. “tough practice?” you ask, but you already know the answer.
“you have no idea.” sumin replies, the tension in his shoulders relaxing as he huffs out a laugh before he takes your hand in his and brings it up to his mouth. already sensing what was happening, you rip your hand out of his grip with a knowing smile. the action only makes sumin laugh before he leans in to gently bite your jaw. you let out a small noise of protest and gently push and smack at his shoulders, but there’s not any force behind it. you break out into giggles as he bites your jaw again before moving down to hook his teeth into your shoulder.
it sends a shudder up your spine as a breathy, nearly inaudible sigh leaves your lips, the action not going unnoticed by sumin. you feel him grin against your skin before pressing a soft kiss to it, the air in the room suddenly growing thick with tension. “what’s wrong baby?” he teases, his hands sliding down your body before his fingers stop to press into the softness of your waist. he sinks his teeth into your shoulder again, keeping his mouth there for longer this time as he sucks a dark spot into the skin. he licks the bruise lightly to soothe it before moving across to your collarbone to bite into that too.
you let him move his teeth across your skin, dark purple and red spots blooming all across your neck, shoulders, and chest. you can hear and feel him groan into your skin at the taste of your skin on his tongue, your chest heaving with every heavy breath you take. you arch your chest into him as you tilt your head back at the attention he’s giving you before you start to gain some clarity and push against his chest to get him to stop.
“w-wait, what about yechan? he could walk in here at any minute.” he pulls back far enough to look at your face, but close enough to keep you in his arms. you looked like a mess: your hair was disheveled, you were still panting from his ministrations, and you were littered with marks and a thin sheen of spit from sumin’s tongue practically everywhere, but sumin still thought you were the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. despite your distress, sumin seems unbothered at the mention of his roommate, a smirk making its way onto his face, as if he knew something that you didn’t.
“he decided to stay behind to practice a bit more.” he leans into your face, his lips brushing against yours as he spoke. “so we have more than enough time.” he whispers lowly before kissing your lips softly. “to do whatever,” kiss. “we,” kiss. “want,” he takes your lips in his as you let out a weak whine into his mouth before melting into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer.
authors note. this has been a thought over the past couple of hours so i thought i’d write about it. unedited lemme know!
Taesan’s a huge groper, he’ll have you on his lap directly over his cock fully clothed engrossed in a make out session. His tongue pressing into your mouth as he slowly sways to the Oasis song softly playing in the background. His hands running all over your body from your neck to your back all the way down to the tiny boxer shorts you had borrowed.
You’re clad in his thick hoodie but you can feel the pressure of his hands and nails against your back as they run up and underneath to press against the warm skin of your back.He starts slowly lowering himself down to the pillow making sure you’re still pressed into him as his hand runs down to your now exposed ass due to how short the boxers are. His fingers digging into your skin leaving indents of his fingertips before he circles them.
His other hand caresses your neck and cheek as his lips move, kissing harder and harder against your skin and mouth. It has you hypnotised all of the pleasure combined. It distracts you enough that when he throws you down in front of him on the bed all that comes out is a whine wedged in your throat. His smirk as he runs his hand through his hair is unimaginably attractive.
He pushes the hoodie up further to show off your skin and bralette. Fingers running over your clothed pussy, his fingertips pushing in all the right areas, up to your chest where he grips at the lace material covering his favourite toys.
Hands running back down to your hips he kisses over your stomach. Some feather light kisses others long, passionately licking up your torso. every so often he would bite down making you let out a gasp that drowned out your whines. His eyes, although somewhat hidden behind his hair, are always locked into yours every time his teeth sink into your skin.
hellooo!! omg i feel so bad :( pls don’t rush urself or anything like… i feel like there’s a fine line between wanting to encourage writers and not wanting to stress them out!! i’m sorry that work n school have both been tough for you :( i really hope ur getting some relief now and i hope you’re doing okay!!
also as a side note i’m only realizing it now… but are u able to put ur age in ur bio?
boo don’t feel bad!! i feel bad it’s also just a me thing ig it happens a lot but i’m trying to get out of it but thank you nonnie <3
i thought i had it in my profile but i’m just realising now istg i’ll pop it in my bio now
genre. boyfriends best friend!sungchan x taken!reader
word count. 4k
warnings. smut (mdni), infidelity, talks of drugging, somnophilia, fingering, tit sucking(tit play idfk), oral (f rec), cum eating, face riding, squirting, sungchan is incredibly up and down in toxic and being down bad. lemme know if there’s anything else
authors note. tysm to the anonnie who sent this very sorry once again for how long it took and i don’t think it’s that good either. But toxic sungchan is something else ong.
part one
“Fuck that girl keeps messaging me.” A pissed looking Seunghan walks into the lounge where Sungchan resides, his hands gripping his phone in distress.
Sungchan, too engrossed in the show he was enjoying, barely bats an eye at the younger “What girl?” hand reaching for the snack you had laid out for the boys barely an hour ago.
“That fucking girl from the party a few weeks ago don’t you remember?” Seunghan questions sitting opposite Sungchan on the lounge chair.
Oh Sungchan doesn’t just remember. That night has replayed in his wet dreams, what he did to you and what he should’ve continued doing to you but no. You went back to your cheater boyfriend. Who cares if he was drugged and who cares that it was him who did it. No one, because no one will ever find out. That night is constantly on replay in his mind what he would do for another taste of your cunt or to see the struggle on your face as you take him down your throat.
There’s been times when he thinks he’s got you to himself again before you run off back into your boyfriend's arms. Like just last week he caught you exiting the bathroom as he was about to shower post dance practice. A shocked ‘hey’ from you while simultaneously trying to leave the potential conversation was enough for Sungchan to try again.
Pushing you against the closed door, body to body so close the dampness of your towel stains his clothes. His hand reaches up to your exposed collar bone thumb stroking over where the water dripped. You swallow before quietly voicing out “I need to get changed, I don’t want to do anything…” your voice trails off as you look into his eyes before peering down again.
Sungchan takes this as a sign to try again and continues stroking your collarbone “and you’re sure you don’t want to-“ he pauses as his hand slides up to the top of his jacket where his zipper lay just under the dog tag he wore. slowly unzipping the jacket to reveal the bare skin of his toned stomach underneath it “…do anything with me?” He finishes the sentence in a teasing tone.
Your face never once dropped the shocked expression during the conversation and now staring at his abs left a funny feeling inside your stomach. So what was the best thing to do in that situation? Run. All the way back to the safety of your boyfriend's room. That was okay for Sungchan though he knew you would come crumbling down eventually and the plus side of you running away was the tiny towel barely covering your ass. Did he jerk off in the shower to the thought of your ass, so what? It’s not like that doesn’t happen daily.
A puff of annoyance leaves Seunghans mouth. “She wants me to come see her…should I just go to try and clear things up?” He looks at his brother for advice, the older one staring into the ceiling. After the ‘incident’ Seunghan never found out what the two of you had done, if Sungchan were a great friend the perfect time to tell him it would be right now so Seunghan wouldn’t have to deal with the stress. But Sungchan has never been a great friend so to speak.
Sungchan ponders for a moment before speaking “Look bro, if it was me I’d deal with it now- and make sure to take your time to explain what happened and try to hear her out too.” The words of advice were clouded with the thoughts of spending alone time with you but Seunghan couldn’t differentiate help from his friend vs his friend trying to fuck his girlfriend.
Yet he still wasn’t convinced. “How am I gonna-“, he pauses in an upsetting tone, “What if Y/n wakes up and wonders where I am?” Seunghan runs his hands over his face, obviously distressed at the situation of the girl not exactly getting the hint yet Sungchan happens to live in La La Land where all he thinks of is a certain girlfriend of his frat ‘brother’.
A slight smirk appears on his face, “Don’t worry bro, I'll make sure she’s distracted.” Sungchan’s hand claps at the back of Seunghan as if to reassure him when nothing but the opposite lies in his mind. “Go sort your shit out, take as long as you need.”
A sigh of relief falls from Seunghan's mouth, as simple as that Seunghans out the door and out of his way, “Thanks bro, I can't imagine losing her over this.”
…well…someone can.
Because if Sungchan were a predator you lying right upstairs would be his prey. Fast asleep in a shirt way too big to be yours with baby pink panties on show for anyone to see. Quiet, stealthy movements are made so Sungchan doesn’t awaken you from slumber. It’s simple, really sneak in, lock the door and lay his head next to your pretty body. He can see the fresh puddle of drool you’ve left on the sheets, his finger runs along the opening of your mouth collecting the saliva.
Pulling his shorts down he runs the saliva coated finger across his tip, the cooling sends a rush through his cock and his mind and suddenly his tip is tracing around your parted lips catching the drool that leaks. He imagines it was his cum leaking from your mouth instead. His body shivers, pushing his tip just inside your open mouth and maneuvering past your teeth barely grazing against your tongue.
Fuck…
Sungchans thoughts ran wild, you were here laid out for him. What could he do to you? What could he do for you? He knew you couldn’t be satisfied with whatever Seunghan was doing, he’s constantly bragging about how routinely you go down on him and yet never reciprocates. He’d overheard you talk about trying new things to be immediately shut down. He would never treat you like that, never.
With his thoughts running a mile a minute he hasn’t noticed his cock slipping further into your mouth. Lips stretched but you’re yet to take even a third of his cock inside them. Looking at your body sprawled out, slipping his dick from your mouth. The pretty pink panties are too distracting for Sungchan so it’s not his fault when his hand obviously finds itself resting on your thigh, fingertips edging to touch the silk material.
Fuck it.
Laying himself back beside you his fingers edge along the outside of the material stroking along your upper thigh. Slowly slipping inside with one finger had little to no resistance. Did Seunghan fuck you before he left? Sungchan let the deranged thoughts ramble on in his mind, suddenly pushing in a second finger, this time tighter than before.
His mood livened up as he took one look at your now open eyes, his tone coming out softly “Shh, baby it’s okay.” he turned to press open mouth kisses into your neck, his fingers still inside of you. Curling inside to create a reaction from you, the little whine was not left unheard by Sungchan as he continued his motions.
Grabbing onto his arm another whine left your lips “S-seunghan is downstairs…please,” You begged, weariness in your vision was blocked by the attacks to your core. His face turned sour and thrusts became rougher at the mention of your boyfriend. Turning your eyes to look at him you plead,“ Sungchan… please don’t, he’ll be so mad at me.” He smirks in response lips pressed into your neck, he can feel how your heart is racing whether at the thought of him fucking you or Seunghan finding out. The irritation fueled by the fact that you’re Seunghan‘s is overpowering. His fingers slow in movements as he moves to look you in the eye.
“Don’t you remember why this happened in the first place, because your little boyfriend went and fucked another girl didn’t he?” The irritated tone mixed with the words felt like a dagger into your heart. Your eyes turn down like a puppy when their owners are mad. It wasn’t exactly a lie, Sungchan thought. A tear falls down your face, a perfect distraction to get back on track with the plan.
Sungchan’s position moves in concern, his weight moves to his elbow puncturing the bed as his body engulfs you. His hand caresses your cheek wiping the stray tear away making you look back into his eyes. “Oh baby, I struck a nerve didn’t I?” you sniffle at his words and nod all while not breaking eye contact. “The only tears i want to see from you-“ he pauses to place a kiss on your forehead, “Come from when i’m fucking into your sweet cunt okay?” The question caught you off guard. Not like this whole situation hasn’t caught you off guard but anyhow. The way his head tilted with his questioning tone still unable to break eye contact with you makes you let out a whimpered response.
“Tell me baby, are you gonna let me fuck you?” The question hangs in the air for a moment or two before you mumble out a ‘yes’. The look on his face tells you it wasn’t good enough thoughts racking his brain until “You gonna tell me who’s fucking you?” a confused expression braced your face before your head hit back on the pillow. Sungchan’s cock sinking into you, the burning stretch causing a moan to leave your lips and your hand reaches to grip his bicep.
“Sungchan, fuck” the whining continues as his cock sinks balls deep, patiently waiting for you to stretch around his cock. The look on your face would be enough to have him cum, your head on its side but your eyes still looking at him and your mouth drooling on the pillow. His hand finds its way back to your face, thumb lingering on the pool of drool near your mouth thumbing over your bottom lip.
“Never fucked anyone this big huh? Need some extra time to stretch this pussy out don’t I baby?” His words were spinning around your brain. Nodding at his words you can feel the stretch sting as he bottoms out. His voice echoes around the room, his eyes locked with yours when he groans “Gonna treat this pussy so good, like it deserves.”
Repeated moans of his name fall from your mouth as he hits his cock further into you. His hands push against your thighs spreading you open til they reach the bed below you.
“It’s okay baby, I got you” His voice soothing to the almost painful position. His hand pulls you up from where you lay on your stomach, pulling your arm behind you while you place your other on the soft bedding, your knees bending themselves into the bed. His cock glides right back into you startling you, your hand trying to find him to stabilize yourself. The pace vigorous as your ass meets his stomach, slurring out his name when his tip hits your cervix.
“You don’t know how long i’ve been waiting to fuck you,” He groaned, his fingertips leaving marks on your ass. “Needed this, needed to be inside you.” The hand that grips your arm moves you down towards the bed to hit deeper inside you.
With your head in the pillows there are no thoughts on your mind, just laying there taking the abuse from his cock. Sungchans cock. Not your boyfriend but his best friend, the one who’d been lurking around waiting for a slight chance for Seunghan to fuck up and to grab your attention.
And that he did.
Flipping you on your back his thrusts getting faster and deeper like it was somehow possible to fit his thick length in you. His eyes locked in on your facial expressions, the way your eyes creased through every stroke and how your mouth would open ever so slightly when he hit deep inside you. Wasting no time in ripping off the shirt his hands running all over your body stopping to grasp and your tits and thumb over your nipple before sliding down to your core. The gentle hands that ran over your body were replaced with quick flicks of his thumb over your clit drawing you closer to the edge.
Mouthing along your jaw he moves up to your ear, “you gonna cum baby?” Your whines only get louder as he continues his pace. Head flailing around your hand moves over his body desperate to grip something. Feeling his hand gripping your chin stops you from thrashing around, eyes opening to his staring right back at you “Who’s making you cum y/n?” he asks the glare in his eyes as he continues his ministrations.
“Ahh, Sungchan fuck,” you moan out, feeling his cock thrusting into you. “I wanna cum Sungchan, please.” You continue, otherwise speechless at this whole scenario you’re unable to do anything except beg for more.
Your body froze as you spilled around his cock, walls tightening around him as your orgasm took over. Sungchan continued his thrusts, not stopping until he could fill you up, fucking into you until you were shaking and spilling out what you could of his name as he emptied himself into you.
Slowly resting himself against you, not to scare you from your daze and after taking a couple of moments to calm your breathing Sungchan pulls out with a hiss. Sinking back into his knees he watches his seed flow out of you.
“Made such a pretty mess in you.” His fingers reach for your abused folds covered in his cum. You whimper in response, thighs closing at the lingering touch ‘don’t look ‘s embarrassing’ fumbles from your lips only for sungchan to slide his finger to push the cum back inside only for more to leak out.
“Fuck that’s so sexy, my girl filled up with my cum,” He moves back up your body to whisper in your ear. “You love it don’t you baby, being filled with my cum.” Pressing slow, soft kisses into your neck. You whine at his touch, slowly coming back to your senses.
His lips are on yours without a second to think. Your swollen lips are gently nibbled on as he slips his tongue into your mouth. His ministrations last for a while longer as his hand runs through your hair slowly moving himself onto the bed and you settled in his lap. Zero thoughts running through your mind as his lips move down your neck towards your chest.
Sucking on your collarbone he moves slowly down, leaving lingering kisses and marks, towards your tits. Pulling you somehow closer his mouth sinks down to your nipple as his hand grips at the flesh Suckling at the bud he notices how shaky your breath and body have gotten, making cute little noises. Pulling back he stares up at you as his tongue darts out to flick at your nipple, the fast stimulation
“Fuck need you on top of me,” He says in between breaths you move to place yourself on his cock, pussy still dripping with his cum but he stops your movements. “Wrong way angel, need you on my face.” The shock stops you from moving. He can sense something is wrong
“Don’t tell me he’s never eaten you out before,” His voice jerks in a laughing tone but all he gets from you is silence and a glass eyed look. His face drops, smirking on the inside. “Oh angel, let me show you what you’re missing out on.” His arms guide you up and over his face positioning you so that his lips are in line with your hole.
Your body still shaking at the thought of the situation, Seunghan had never eaten you out let alone made you sit on his face, the thoughts swimming around in your brain left you stuck hovering over his face. Sungchan’s hands caress your outer thighs, he would just have to take matters into his own hands. Craning his neck up his lips meet your cum soaked cunt, he lets his nose nestle between your wet folds as he begins kissing your cunt. Still shaking although more intense a whine is released from your chest at the feeling.
He drags his tongue through your folds, tasting the mix of your cum; sucking, swirling his tongue into your hole trying to clean up what he selfishly sunk into you. Body jolting as moans fall from your lips. Sungchan slowly pushes his head back into the pillow, slow enough where you subconsciously follow his lips down, unable to think about sitting on his face. You can feel Sungchan groan into your cunt, clearly enjoying the new weight on his face.
Your eyes screw shut as he continues to lap at your pussy. His nose hits your clit everytime you subconsciously grind into it.
Pulling away Sungchan pushes his face to the side lips placing wet kisses on your inner thigh. Opening your eyes you glance down at the sight of him, messy hair, slick covering his mouth and nose and his eyes sultry as he slightly smirks up at you, “You’re a natural baby, tell me how good I’m making you feel.” His fingers dip at your exposed core, drowning two of them into your cunt as his lips lock around your clit.
The mix has your body convulsing in pleasure, you can hear how wet you are as his fingers stuff your walls. The feeling of your incoming orgasm is overwhelming, “Sungchan, wait- I’m gonna cum.” You gasp out the roughness of his fingers draining your voice out, tears well up in your eyes as you come closer to the edge. Sungchan can feel your orgasm run through you, he can also feel a gush of your release over his face.
His fingers prodding harder and faster, he needs you to squirt over his face. “I’m cumming- fuck, I’m cumming.” Your voice breaks in a squeal, your orgasm ripping through again with blinding intensity making tears roll down your cheeks.Your juices flooding his mouth as he groans at the feeling. The gush of warm fluid spraying against his face is a sensation you’ve never felt before, totally uncontrollable. Sungchan is in a state of pure bliss. The girl of his dreams being eaten out for the first time on top of him as she squirts on his face. His tongue never falters, licking up the release, messily drinking down what he caught in his mouth.
You can feel it everywhere, soaking the sheets, covering Sungchans face and neck. It’s filthy but nothing has ever felt better. Taking a moment you stare up at the ceiling coming down from your orgasm, slowing your breathing to try and calm down. Remembering you were still on top of Sungchan you jolted, earning a laugh from the man underneath. Moving backwards off him he stills you on his lap once again.
Sungchan’s hand lightly grasps your jaw, eyes locking with yours. Something about the way Sungchan looks at you makes you forget about Seunghan. In fact, you hadn't thought of him until this moment. The way he almost controls your body and brain when you’re together was so exhilarating. You’re pulled out of your thoughts by his thumb pulling at your lip. “I’d eat you out every minute of every day if I could,” His lips meeting yours, the taste of your essence lingering in his mouth.
If you still didn’t feel light headed after your orgasm you did now, something about the way Sungchan licks into your mouth consuming your breaths, thoughts and saliva was otherworldly. It was like you were the snake and his charmer music was his mouth. Under his spell his movements go unnoticed, his length hard again from you riding his face, hand jerking himself off under your pussy. His tip slightly touches your clit making you jump and whine into his mouth.
His mouth rips away from yours, hand grasping yours to stroke his cock together. Breaths panting and slick sounds from where you stroke him are the only sounds that linger in the room. The softness of your palm rilling him up, “Keep going angel and I’ll cum-“ he’s cut off by a groan as your finger tip dips into his slit, spilling more precum out. “You want me to cum inside you again? Yeah I know you do.” His slick covered hands glide along the side of your face. His voice sultry as he gets closer and closer to spilling. You push your face into his hand quickly moving yourself over his cock, lining up with your still swollen cunt Sungchan can help himself to push himself balls deep inside of you.
Gasps leave you lips at the feeling his slick cock gliding straight into you sets him off “-Fuck, squeeze me baby, i’m gonna cum,” he groans out finally meeting his breaking point, pumping his cum deep inside you. Warmth flooding your cunt as he filled you completely. The way his cock pulsed inside made you feel completely full and spent from today.
Slowly pulling out he lays you on the bed. Playing with your hair and leaving slow lingering kisses over your body. Pressing kisses into the junction of your neck whispering out praises, “It’s okay baby, I’ll never let him hurt you again,” A moment of silence passes through the room.
You can’t help but think that although your boyfriend cheated on you and that Sungchan was great in bed, it was no excuse for what you had done. What was Seunghan going to think if he finds you in bed with his friend, his frat brother of all people. Seunghan had never even brought it up to you? Did he really even cheat on you? Are you a cheater? Who the hell are you?
Negative thoughts swirled your brain for moments before you knew it a couple tears had fallen down your cheek, the anxiety nestled into your chest making it hard for you to breathe.
Brain jumbled at what to do. You knew the only thing that would keep you sane right now. “You have to leave before he comes in here Sungchan,” your voice drifts off into a whisper mentally and physically tired from being fucked into oblivion and the constant thoughts running around your brain. Your eyes slowly fill with tears as they threaten to roll down your face.
Sungchans face once red with lust is now red with rage. He stops for a second, “Are you fucking serious?” his tone filled with anger. He just fucked you til you cried, made you cum three times and properly ate you out when he found out Seunghan never does it and this is the treatment he gets. As much as it broke your heart to think of him leaving you, in such a state nonetheless, you needed space and time to think about what you were going to do about Seunghan.
“You still want to fuck him after this?” He scoffs, his tone laced with venom at the situation you seriously at choosing your dumb fuck boyfriend who is at another girls house right now after being fucked out of your mind.
“Be my guest, he’s gonna find my cum all up inside this pretty cunt when he eats you out,” his fingers pushing his cum deeper inside you as he licks and bites against your neck. “Sorry, that's if he eats you out.”
no pls i swear i would never be pissed off, i’m just insane😓 the snippet though,,,, i’m foaming at the mouth PLS take ur time of course i really wish you the best and hope you are doing well<333 i guess i just wanted to lyk that if u are still working on it i am still anticipating!! thank you sm
…hello anonnie 😩😩
first of all i’m so sorry that this took so long. I had a period of a few months we’re i was so stressed with school and work that I didn’t think about writing and when i did write i absolutely hated it so it threw me off finishing for a while ☹️☹️
BUTTT after rewriting it four times part two of right where I want you is coming very soon. I’m just finishing up some final scenes but it won’t be edited otherwise i’ll probably hate it and rewrite it again which I don’t want
So once again very very very sorry Toxic Sungchan is back
If there’s anything in life that Jake wants, it’s to fuck. All day, every day, it’s on his mind. He fantasizes constantly, watches porn every free chance he gets, and ultimately has grown bored of his own hand to satiate his need.
or the one where jake is inexperienced, incredibly perverted, and borderline addicted to sex but cannot, for the life of him, land a girl.
leave feedback and reblog to give jake another boner.
minors do not interact.
WORDCOUNT― 13.8k
PAIRING― jake sim x afab reader
CONTENT― smut, inexperienced but pervy and dominant jake, he kind of has an addiction to jerking off, im not joking like he has a boner every twenty minutes it’s probably a medical issue but, reader is really sex positive and lets jake go absolutely insane on her
NOTE― not proof read in the way it needed to be. disclaimer: this is straight up just porn. it had a plot at one point but i deleted all of it and wrote this instead. also this is posted on my other blog for mark lee. yes, i wrote it for both of them bc they both fit the shoe ok? ok.
smut tags under cut::
smut tags― jake isn’t submissive– just a loser, loads of masturbation, also loads of loads lmfao, jake’s dick is 8 inches in this one, public humiliation, dirty talk, teasing, pussy eating / face sitting, mentions of free use, unprotected sex, wayyyy way too much cum, raw grinding, attempts at deep throat, accidental face fucking, finger fucking, suffocation, riding, squirting, implications to the fact that orgasms are not the end of the fic bc they just keep going, some say they’re still fucking to this day.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
“Feels so good! Harder! Fuck m-”
Jake slams his laptop shut in an exasperated sigh. Frustrated, annoyed, fucking horny.
Always horny. To the point that nothing excites him anymore. Not his hard-on being palmed at by his own hand, not the make-shift pocket pussy he’s made out of household objects, not the porn on page one or on page seventy-three.
Honestly, even as hard as he is now, it’s arguable that he could just start punching his cock and he’d still remain in this state until something changes. And you know what sucks more than not being able to get off? Being hard so constantly that it’s just a state of living at this point.
It’s sad. He could be washing caked ketchup off of a plate and his cock would still lend a little jump. A reminder that his hand is no longer enough. A fucking threat that if he doesn’t sink into a pretty hole soon, he might as well just kill himself.
The idea doesn’t seem too bad anymore, as he lays flat on his back with his cock in hand on his messy sheets. He stares up at the ceiling with another long-winded groan, wondering why he has to have such an insatiable libido and probably twice as much stamina. If he could just get off he’d have at least a little bit of time in his day to feel normal before it takes hold of his brain again.
It’s the fact that he’s grown entirely numb to his own hand and feels like he’s going crazy because he hasn’t been able to hook-up with anyone in nearly a year. Porn is boring, he swears he’s seen just about all of the good, bad, and bizarre. Post nut clarity barely exists because there is no clarity by the time he finally gets that hard-to-reach nut. Bad luck, maybe. Awful fucking miserable luck? That’s more fitting.
For the sake of the girls in this city, perhaps it’s good that he can’t manage to land a hook-up. Surely they’d be unable to walk by the time he gets his fill, that is if he manages to get a fill at all. And it’s gotten to the point that Jake has almost entirely given up on finding a girl at all. One that’s willing to put up with his near-constant need to get his dick wet, anyway.
Almost given up.
A thought crosses his mind as he lazily palms himself with a bored sigh, knowing he’ll end up locked up in an asylum somewhere if this doesn’t stop. The voice of Jay in his head doing little to make his cock soften, which is…not something Jake is proud to admit.
“Dude, you gotta put a stop to this shit. This is your third laptop this year!” Jay had said to him. “It’s only June!”
Maybe Jay was right, and maybe Jake should have downloaded the new app that was mentioned shortly after the scolding rather than immediately going to another, even more, shady porn site. “Heard this one was really good.” Jay had advertised. “Even got Jungwon laid.”
Well, maybe it wouldn't hurt to try another app despite the immense amount of failure Jake has already faced regarding previous attempts with other platforms. After all, if it got Jungwon laid, surely it could get him laid too.
Maybe this one really is better.
And at the end of the day, Jake does download the app. After all, creating a profile is easy, finding a girl though?
We’ll see.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Ah. Okay. Nice.
Jake stays glued to his phone all night. He really had no hope that this app would offer him anything more than what the others did. But, oh.
The app allows specific features, most of which are not aimed towards users looking for a relationship. Dick and body sizes are out in the open, there’s sections you can fill out regarding what you’re looking for in a sexual partner, how often you’re willing to see said partner, and if you’re looking for a regular fuck or a one time fuck.
Safe to say, Jake’s profile went a little something like this:
you can call me jake, im 24. just looking for a girl either for regular visits or a one night stand that’s willing to deal with a guy who literally suffers from chronic-boner syndrome.
LOOKING FOR: Female
PREFERENCE: One Time Only, Occasional Meetups, On-call, Regular meetups, Permanent Friends-With-Benefits, Secret Meet, Virtual Meet, Audio Meet, Rebound C…[Click to see more]
PARTNER REQUIREMENTS: N/A
SIZE REFERENCE: 8 ½” hard, 4” soft, 5.6” circumference
SEXUAL INTERESTS: Vanilla, Free Use, BDSM, Begging, Breeding, Dom/Sub, Dominatrix, CBT, Role Play, Public Humiliation, Edging, Spanking, Dirty Talk, Phone Sex, Virtual Sex, Group Sex, Humiliation, Cock Play, Cum Dump, Religion, Raw, Multiple Orgasms, Androgyny, Genital Piercings, Older Women, Body Art, Wax, Anal, Financial Domina...[Click to see more]
NOT INTERESTED IN: Cuckolding, Voyeurism
OTHER: im not very experienced in most of these, i just watch a lot of porn
Embarrassing? Yeah, probably.
Looks like a lot of women are into that though if his inbox is anything to go by, anyway. With him checking the app every few minutes to find ten new messages? Yeah, they’re feeling him.
He can only imagine what the fuck Jungwon had on his profile to actually land a hook-up. Couldn’t have been any worse than his own, after all, Jake is desperate and so was Jungwon at one point.
Apparently girls like desperate guys.
Message after message, degrading comments and praise, all from either women clad in leather or sweet looking church girls who must have the app hidden deep within their phones. There’s barely anyone in between those two categories, actually.
“Hi baby boy, you looking for a sugar mama?”
“ur dick really that big? lol, what do you even mean by ‘chronic boner syndrome’?”
“you’re so desperate to get laid, might as well just doxx yourself at this point…please.”
Arguably, these women are very forward and he has a great time sifting through the ones he’s interested in. Scrolling through all of these messages….does not help his case regarding his insatiable need to fuck something either so, naturally, he’s also 100% jerking off the entire time he’s doing this.
Still, never quite able to reach the orgasm he needs by this point.
Up until there’s a message that catches his attention. No degrading, no insults, no borderline-too-kinky insinuations. Which, given, Jake probably shouldn’t have selected the majority of the kinks just to pull more girls, but he did.
And upon reading the message, he almost doesn’t know if this girl is real.
“High libido, no girls around to help you out, I take it? Rough.”
One look at her profile spikes even more interest. Her sexual interests include a list of things he wishes he didn’t fit. But he does, though he’d never admit it. Inexperienced men, losers, virgins, micro-penis, big penis, praise (receiving), body worship–
Oh.
Fuck yeah.
He responds quickly, already feeling the orgasm within him bubble up as he tries to pretend he doesn’t go on a war path of responding to everyone after you, but still. Your message box with him remains in his mind as he awaits the response to his message of “you looking to help me out?”
Every ping on his phone afterwards makes his cock twitch more, makes it dribble out little beads of pre-cum with each pass of his palm, only for him to sigh out of frustration that it’s just another person that wants to devour him whole. Which, he’ll take what he can get if his first choice never responds but still. He wants to get off to you.
He finds himself on your profile more often than anyone else’s too, looking at the same three photos you’ve posted, noting how you don’t seem super active on the app, but active enough to find him by some beautiful grace of God.
You’re kind of perfect, honestly. Fairly mundane compared to most of the women in his inbox, but cool nonetheless. He can tell you have an eye for fashion but it seems to be more geared towards your real life self rather than the secret fetish/kink app you’ve got downloaded.
And that’s the thing. Most of these women, beautiful or not, are dressed in their best sexual attire just to message a possible fuck, while during their daily lives they probably wear conservative dresses and pant suits. Which….arguably that’s kind of hot. Then again, what isn’t hot to him these days?
You though. You have normal pictures posted just like he does. Your tits aren’t out, your legs aren’t open, you don’t have a pile of sex toys behind or beside you and yet still your pictures turn him on more than those who do. Insane how his cock twitches at just these three photos, fucking insane how he grows a near instant obsessed thinking about how you…uh, deal with the losers you seem to be looking for.
Then again, maybe it’s the mystery of what’s under your clothes, or what’s in your stash of sex toys. Oh, whatever you’re hiding has got be so fucking hot. Naturally, he groans at the amount of sexuality you barely give. Thinking far, far too hard about it all, given the circumstances.
Don’t get him wrong, he can get down with the hoes. In fact, he very much wants to get down with a hoe. But man, the way you stand out because you’re somehow….boring compared to everyone else?
Please.
Fucking pretty please, let him in between those thighs.
And just as he scrolls again through your photos, that long-awaited orgasm hits him like a brick.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
A mere two days later you find yourself in the inbox with the self-proclaimed boner-god. He’s since proven his size with photos involving different objects beside said penis, and even a video or two of his frantic hands jerking off to you.
Ah, he’s kind of perfect if you think about it. At first you thought that it was just roleplay for him or something. Where he plays a guy who can’t get enough, though he clearly probably does. It wasn’t until you were woken up at four in the morning with him spamming your inbox that you suddenly realized this dude is actually as desperate as he seems.
Normally, being spammed awake by your phone pinging consistently would bother you. But goddamn was he needing it. Just three hours before now it was mostly casual conversation with him, albeit about hooking-up, but still. The two of you agreed to determine on the following day if you were compatible enough for a meet up. He said goodnight to you, and you said it back.
Then you woke up to three dick pics, one voice note with a borderline pathetic apology (only because you could still hear him going at it), and then like fourteen messages of him trying to wake you up intentionally.
JAKE_02 sent you a message: You awake?
Dick pic #1.
JAKE_02 sent you a message: You’re so pretty, sorry lol
Dick pic #2
JAKE_02 sent you a message: Wake uppppppppppp!
JAKE_02 sent you a message: Please? :(
Dick pic #3, precum smeared across his fingers as he grips it.
JAKE_02 sent you a message: Do you already have me silenced?
JAKE_02 sent you a message: I’d let you silence me hahaha….
JAKE_02 sent you a voice memo: “Sorry about all this, I really meant it when I said I have a problem. You should probably just block me because I’m going to end up begging to see you otherwise”
Oh, he has an accent.
JAKE_02 sent you a message: your profile says you like inexperience…..well i’ve only slept with like 3 girls, is that inexperienced enough?
JAKE_02 sent you a message: do you like to tease guys like that? like edge them and stuff?
JAKE_02 sent you a message: oh damn, that’d be so hot
JAKE_02 sent you a message: do you like it when guys beg btw?
Etcetera.
And, well, apparently he just has a lot to say. It’s cute how embarrassed he must feel basically getting himself off with a one-sided sext session with you as you were sleeping. At least, you hope he’s embarrassed.
You let his messages simmer for a while, waiting to see if he sends anything else. And when he doesn’t, you respond.
YOURUSERNAME: that was cute.
It’s the way he’s instantly trying to respond that really gets you going. You chuckle first, knowing already that you’d probably help him out based on this situation alone.
YOURUSERNAME: trying to wake me up because you can’t stop touching yourself? :( poor baby.
JAKE_02: oh god please don’t say that
JAKE_02: im gonna end up awake all night trying to get it to go down again
YOURUSERNAME: that’s good to hear. so you can go for a long time then?
Yes, you’re teasing him.
JAKE_02: if you’d let me
YOURUSERNAME: you already got off tonight tho, didn’t you?
JAKE_02: i don’t think you understand just how bad it is. i’m already getting my dick out again
You lend yourself a sly chuckle after a deep yawn, knowing for a fact that you’re about to make him prove to you that he’s either still hard or really did get off only to get hard again by a mere few messages from you.
YOURUSERNAME: show me?
And he does. Similar to the other three photos, only this time he sends a short video with his shorts pushed down his thighs and his cock raging hard and pathetic against his stomach. Again, he’s big, that much is true, but the fact that such a dick is always ready to fuck? To the point he’s desperate? To the point he’s embarrassing about it?
YOURUSERNAME: how bad do you wanna bury that in me?
Oh, shit. Jake could fucking die right now. You seem so willing, which is truly what he needs at this point in his sexual sickness.
JAKE_02: i’ll come over right now.
JAKE_02: let me come over and show you
YOURUSERNAME: let’s wait a bit for that, gotta meet officially before I let you fuck me
And you do intend to make him wait, knowing for a fact that you’re not meeting this guy tonight. There’s too much danger in that. Given how desperate he actually is, you can argue that if you changed your mind upon meeting, he very well may not care. Which, that’s something you need to worry about with any person you meet on such an app, but still.
Public meeting first.
Always.
JAKE_02: right, right, that makes sense.
JAKE_02: so can i see your pussy then
You stifle a laugh as if the man can hear you, he’d probably like that though. But yeah, no. As much as you know he’d enjoy that, it’s best to let him experience it for the first time in real life if all of this goes well. So, you settle with tits.
Meaning, he has to settle with them too.
And the photo is all but enough for Jake. The ping of his phone was far too exciting with the flash of the image sinking into his eyes. Sure, he wanted to see your hole open for him, he wanted to see your pretty hands spreading your lips for the picture, he wanted to see what he might get to fuck into someday– but…
This is good enough for him, honestly. Seeing your tits alone is hot enough, but it’s the fact that you only barely let him see. The plush skin of your lower breasts are peeking from under the shirt you're wearing, one nipple barely out, the other completely hidden.
He moans out at it, holding his cock tight and painfully as he glares into the screen of his phone. God, he can almost taste it.
JAKE_02: thats so hot…but….
JAKE_02: pussy….
JAKE_02: please show me your pussy
Another chuckle at how desperate he really is. You lower your phone just a bit, not at all intending to show him all of it but you do lend a panty shot with your legs spread. He’ll live with it, he doesn’t have a choice.
And he does live with it because he cums almost instantly upon seeing just your thighs open. He wouldn’t have been able to hit climax so quickly had you already had this photo posted for all to see. It’s the fact that you sent it to him in the dms. It’s the fact that you presumably just took it for him. It’s the fact that he can almost see the outline of your folds, and the lines of your pussy that deserves to fucked open.
When he doesn’t respond immediately, you know it was enough for him. Already you’re preparing to roll back over and get some more sleep, but your phone dings again.
JAKE_02: tht was hot lol….um
JAKE_02: can u come to the mall tomorrow? i work at [redacted store name], u can come see that im actually very normal if u want
You stop for a second through another yawn, thinking long and hard about it. You shrug to yourself because tomorrow is a saturday and there’s plenty of public spaces to meet him in. And despite how fun it could be to tease him for weeks on end before officially meeting him, you, yourself, have been in a dry-spell lately.
And he fits your interests perfectly. In other words, yeah, you could fuck.
YOURUSERNAME: you sure you’re not gonna take me in the back and fuck me on the spot?
JAKE_02: ….would u want me to?
YOURUSERNAME: no, i wanna bring you home if i think you could make me feel good
JAKE_02: hahah damn
JAKE_02: so you’ll come see me?
YOURUSERNAME: yeah, i’ll come see you
JAKE_02: ok cool :)
And then it’s silent for a long while. In fact, you’re nearly asleep again when your phone pings one last time. All you need to see is the notification to know that meeting Jake is gonna be fun.
JAKE_02 sent you a message: for the record…i definitely will fuck you good
Sounds promising.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
You knew he was cute but holy shit, he’s like, cute cute.
Fucking handsome and charmingly cute.
Perhaps even, hot.
You stand from around a shelf to check him out. That same accent you’ve heard previously rings loud and clear in your head, and his hair is definitely a stylistic mess, the type of hair you can imagine grabbing and tugging to guide a tongue between your legs. His eyes are pretty and piercing yet equally as filled with some sort of wonder. His hands, his body.
Oh wow.
On any other day, you’d think he’s just some poser emo-guy working a shitty retail job so he can buy his first guitar and play it totally out of tune. But on this day, you’re aware that this is a man with a need that you very much wouldn’t mind satisfying.
Seeing him go about his work tasks behind the counter is another thing. Checking customers out both through the register and with his eyes when they walk away. You know he isn’t aware that you’ve actually shown up, and it feels nice to watch him in his element before he attempts to play himself up as a totally normal, cool dude. Especially now that you can see him secretly be a pervert on the clock.
Customer after customer, he smiles at them when he hands them their items, he offers small talk and little chuckles that ring in your ears, and every single time one of the pretty ones walks away, his head turns to watch them leave for a few seconds too long.
Anyone can tell he needs it if they watch him for long enough.
You’re not sure why this guy is getting to you the way he is, but there’s just something about the way that he carries himself in public that turns you on. You already know for a fact that he’s a horny motherfucker. You know that behind those charming smiles and laughs, he’s got a neglected cock needing to be used.
No one else in this store is aware of it. You’re the only person here who knows he was spamming a stranger last night with dick pics and begging to see her pussy.
It’s hot.
And when you approach, Jake nearly doesn’t even know it’s you at first.
“Hi, did you find everything you–” Jake stops mid sentence. “Oh, fuck. You’re here.” He adds, trying to primp his hair into a spot that may look a little better than it did already.
You watch as he studies you for the first time, nervously darting his tongue out and against his bottom lip just for a split second before shifting his eyes behind you, and then turning to look around to see if anyone is within ear shot.
No one is paying attention to either of you, and no one is going to hear what you’re about to say to him. Good.
“Do you wanna see my pussy?”
It’s a joke, mostly. Kinda.
You chuckle at his stunned reaction. His hands move to the counter as he clutches it and continuously looks around to make sure no one just heard those lewd ass words from a girl so goddamn hot. Like, oh god, it’s you. You really showed up to see him and already he’s not acting normal.
No, no. You’re the one acting out of pocket, not him.
“I’m–” He tries to start, but his voice cracks in a very, very, embarrassing way. You hear him clear his throat before continuing. “I’m supposed to be showing you that I’m normal.”
You tilt your head at him playfully, leaning against the counter and pushing your tits together with your arms. You wore this shirt here for a reason, and boy are you glad you did. You watch his eyes go straight to your chest and stay there.
“Public Humiliation.” You echo one of his sexual interests to him from his app profile. “Dirty talk.”
Jake swallows around his words in stunned silence, feeling his cock wake up immediately. Fuck, this is the only place he finds peace of mind from…that. Yet here you are, with that soft and pretty voice reminding him of everything he wants but hasn’t been able to have. Standing there like you know he can’t bend you over right now and make you stop talking.
“Eight and a half inches hard.” You continue, leaning in even closer and moving your hand to the collar of your shirt. Tugging down just a little bit. “Five point six inch circumference.”
Jake squeezes his eyes shut as he leans back with a sigh, pressing his hips against the counter for some sort of relief. To think the “boring” girl on the app wouldn’t be like this? God, he knew there had to be a catch considering you were on that app to find him in the first place.
“Please–” He groans as his ears redden, lazily opening his eyes to look at your tits again. “Please don’t do this to me.”
“I can imagine you’d fit it in me just right, wouldn’t you Jake?” You continue briefly, noting the bulge he blatantly presses against the counter. “Can you say ‘please’ again? It’s kinda hot.”
“Please–” Jake blatantly groans now, his voice sounding hoarse and low. As much as he wants you to keep going, he’s at fucking work. He can’t be doing this.
“Okay!” You gleefully agree as you switch up like you didn’t just fuck him up, lending him a bright and innocent smile as you lean back and away from him. “So you don’t want to see my pussy then?”
His relieved face falls right back into that of pained frustration as he narrows his eyes at you.
“Right now?” He asks curiously, nodding his head without realizing it. Sure, he’s at work but like….your pussy is also at his work place right now.
“Yeah! Can you show me to the fitting room, actually?” You ask, louder this time in case anyone has moved around within ear-shot by now. Can’t make him lose his job, or whatever.
Jake swallows thickly with a nod, his eyes still narrowed at you but his mind racing a mile a minute at the fact that you’re really here right now, and this is what you’re doing to him? Enjoying his pain? Enjoying his suffering? Making it worse?
Five minutes ago he was perfectly fine. You’re using his need against him and god, he loves it. Yeah, maybe he will take you to the back and try to fuck you at this point. Even if you said that you wouldn’t let him…what the fuck is this then?
Really, he expected you to show up with an awkward hello and irritating small talk. He wanted to show you that he’s not always thinking about sex. Except he is, and it seems you want him to. You want him to think about fucking you.
You really just walked into this establishment and asked him if he wants to see your pussy.
Of course he wants to see it. You already fucking know that. He wants to fuck it too, like, right now.
And as he walks you to the fitting room, he has to try his damndest to adjust his growing cock. He nods to each customer as he walks by them, hands repeatedly going back to his lap to hide what he’s packing.
“Here it is.” Jake says in an unfocused voice, nearly staring a hole through you. “Now show me.”
You dip your head in a smile, heading for the room and opening the curtain. Cheap ass store, really, most places have actual doors, but whatever.
It’s easy to step inside and leave the curtain skewed a bit, knowing that Jake is hovering around the room, knowing that it’s probably protocol that an employee assist this space when it’s in use to prevent stealing and to prevent others from walking in on naked customers.
You like the way you see him take peeks, trying to be discreet. You like the way he keeps his hands in front of his lap, hiding that you’ve definitely made him a mess of him already. You love the way he whispers a curse to himself when you sit against the bench in this small room and spread your legs wide open.
You bet he loves the skirt you’re wearing for him today too. Though this wasn’t exactly planned or anything, you didn’t expect to be this turned on upon seeing him act as desperate as he sounds. You wore this shirt so he can look, and the skirt too…but looking this much wasn’t in your mind originally.
He’s hot though. The way he needs it is hot.
“Hurry up.” He groans, trying to make it seem like he’s frustrated but you know it’s just because he’s anxiously horny.
And, well, you’re not actually gonna show him your pussy, but at this point you feel bad because he seems really stiff right now, almost robotic in the way he likely feels uncomfortably aroused in his least favorite place.
“Jake,” You whisper-chuckle. “If you wanna see it, you’re gonna have to come in here and take my panties off of me.”
You hear him sigh, and see his eyes flick back to you through the small open space in the curtain.
“You’re insane. I can’t come in there, I’ll lose my job.” He argues with a hushed tone, eyes fixated on the very panties he wishes he could remove.
Even against his protests though, he reaches an arm in as he looks away. As if on extreme watch of other customers and employees roaming around. Probably pretending to grab a garment that doesn’t work for you, probably just doing normal, good-employee things.
And, well, it’s pathetic really, the way he hopes for more. The way you offer more knowing he can’t get exactly what he wants. You actually feel a bit bad for doing this, especially because it wasn’t entirely in the plan.
You really were just coming to meet him. It’s not your fault that watching him work turned you on solely because you know what he needs. So, you stand and walk towards the curtain, grabbing his arm and holding it in place.
“Well–” You start, pressing yourself against the backside of his fingers, feeling him move his hand slightly against your clit. “Touch it then.”
He goes entirely silent but you feel the way he fumbles his hand, immediately grabbing your panties and moving them to the side just to really feel. And you let him, finding it somehow cuter in the way he doesn’t even ask. He does it like he needs to, like it’s instinctual to touch it. He feels for a second or two, probably closer to about five seconds before you step back. Really, it’s enough for him to know you’re wet, enough for him to suffer, enough for him to want more.
Jake’s brain is on fire at it. Touching it before getting to see it? Goddamn, you’re so fucking mean.
And it’s silent for a few more moments after that as Jake keeps his hand in place, seemingly searching for a pussy just out of reach when you slide the fabric down your legs and place them directly into his hand.
“When do you get off work?” You ask slyly now, ripping the curtain open and moving his hand for him, forcing him to shove your panties in his pocket.
“Uh–” He stutters, swallowing again around his words before clearing his throat of the moan he really needs to let out right now. “Seven– I get off at seven.”
You nod with a smile, leaning in real close before patting his pocket.
“I’ll text you my address.”
And you leave without sparing him another glance, knowing that by the time his shift is over, he’ll probably pounce the second you open your door for him.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Jake suffers through the rest of his shift aggressively trying not to suck on his fingers. Fuck, he wants to taste you so bad, but to go as low as sucking the remnants for several hours just to hold him over? Truly, he’s at his wits end.
Mostly because he absolutely does suck his fingers any chance he gets. Tapping his lips with them as he sees a customer off, licking against them discreetly, trying to make it look normal for him to have his fingers in his mouth so consistently.
It’s not doing anything to hold him over though.
He keeps glancing at the clock, and then at the message that reads your address. Just one more hour and he can leave. Just one more hour and he can bury his cock so deep into you that you’d never think twice about letting him do it again, and again, and again.
Oh god, really, he feels like he’s going insane as he checks out customer after customer. Every word they say somehow reminds him that he’s about to finally get laid again.
“Can you wrap this up for me?” One customer said to him, nodding to a set of candles.
Jake wishes you’d wrap him up in that pussy.
“Do you have this in a bigger size?” Another customer had said to him as they held up a plush sweater.
Jake doesn’t think you’d ever need a dick bigger than his. He’ll fill you up just right.
“69.99?!” One customer argues. “The sign said it was 30% off!”
Jake would sixty nine you all night long if you asked. He bets you taste sweet, you probably get really wet too.
And by the end of the night, rain pounding on the roof, his last customer unfortunately has to hear a low groan leave his throat at their comments. He’s very quick to cover it with a cough.
“Sorry for coming in right before you close, the rain is bad tonight and I forgot my umbrella, thank god you guys sell them! I didn’t mean to drip all over the floor like this, I hope you don’t have to stay late cleaning up my mess!”
“I didn’t mean to drip all over your floor like this” Replays in his head, over and over again. God, he’d make you drip. He hopes you drip all over the floor for him. He’d get on his knees and lick it right up, god.
He needs to leave. Right now.
“S’all good,” Jake shakes his head after the initial moan and cough cover, trying to remain casual. “It’s my job to clean it up, after all.” He smiles, his brain stuck on the feeling of how wet you were when he touched you. Shiiiit. “Have a good night, stay dry!”
And finally, Jake can close out his register and lock the doors. That, he does. Performing his end-of-night tasks at lightning speed with a cock throbbing so bad that he worries he might have to get off in his car before making it to your apartment. He genuinely needs to get off, especially knowing these pretty panties are in his pocket ready to be soaked in his cum.
He doesn’t though, no. He holds off, thrusting his hips up and against the inseam of his pants with every passing second as he drives. He’s practically writhing by the time he gets to your place. Honestly, he moans with each movement because he’s sensitive. It’s so, so fucking sensitive. Everything feels good, he could genuinely cum the second you open your door if he’s not careful.
Careful isn’t something Jake can be at this moment though, not when he lands a single knock at your door and you’re immediately opening it, looking at him with that same fucking evil smile you gave to him while he was at work.
He looks at you and instantly lets out a frustrated moan before stepping in without another word. You feel his hands grab you much harsher than you originally thought he would, but you let him as you laugh out in a nervous chuckle.
“Hello to you too.” You pat him on the back as his arms wrap around your middle. You hear him kick back against your door, slamming it shut before his lips hit your neck.
He isn’t talking but goddamn you can hear what he needs to say through the way he presses his lips against you. He’s rough with it, kissing all across your exposed skin before slipping his hand right between your legs from the back as if he doesn’t have to chase anymore.
You were going to jerk your hips back to make him chase, but his grip is too tight and he’s nearly lifting you off the floor entirely to get a feel. You were going to force him to look at you and the outfit you changed into for him, but again, he’s not having it, it seems. He moans when he moves his lips up and against yours, hot breath desperate and needy as he finally speaks.
“Did it turn you on to torture me like that?” He nearly growls against your lips. “Got me so fucking hard.”
You’re genuinely surprised with how he’s acting and talking. Then again, he’s desperate, that much is obvious if that monster bulge rubbing against your leg is anything to go by. Perhaps he may be desperate, but you guess that doesn’t always mean someone will end up submissive as a side effect.
“It did.” You smile against his lips, pushing yourself forward to try and plant your feet back on the ground, chasing the ability to gain control over him. “Did you like that?”
Jake nods before shaking his head, allowing you to push forward, loving the way your hands reach for him and run through his hair before tugging. He did like what you did, but it doesn’t change the fact that it was fucking torture to stand there at work like he wasn’t losing his mind.
“I’d like it more if we skip all the bullshit,” He starts, hand still attempting to reach the spot between your legs and lips landing at the corner of your mouth. “Could go all night.”
You nod to him, gripping his shirt and pulling him back to your living room couch and spinning him around, only to shove him back.
“Is that a promise?” You ask, looking at the lazy way he spreads his own legs and rests his head against your couch cushions, eyes staring straight at you and cock twitching in his pants. “You gonna fuck me all night?”
“Yeah–” He breathes as if he’s in disbelief, hand reaching between his legs just to grab himself and squeeze as his eyes trail your body. “You have no idea how bad I need this.”
“Show me then,” You nod your head to his length that’s hidden under his pants. “Let me watch you first.”
Jake groans, rolling his eyes back both out of frustration and arousal, but he does as you say. His palm feels better with you watching, at least. He doesn’t feel so numb to the pleasure with you promising your body to him, at least. He doesn’t mind proving his size to you by shoving his pants down to his thighs and presenting said neglected cock to you either.
It’s heavy, dark in color due to the blood that’s likely rushing throughout every inch of it. He feels sensitive to even the air in your living room as he twitches and aches to hear you talk again, to see you in front of him watching how he pleasures himself, wishing his hand is yours.
“You wanna watch?” He says in a low-rumbled voice, tracing his fingers along the head of his cock and seething out a breath through his now, bitten bottom lip. “Wanna know how tight I want you to feel?” He asks now, bold and in the heat of the moment. You watch him when he squeezes the base of his cock tightly, you can almost feel yourself choke at that alone.
“How wet you need to be to take it?” He continues, dragging his hand back and licking his palm before spitting into it.
The wetness against his hand is horrifyingly pornographic. So wet when he reaches back down to his length, allowing you to hear it squelch and slip with ease. His breath is hitched while he does it too, which nearly has you seeing him in tunnel vision.
“Yeah…” You tune into him entirely, swallowing around the lump in your throat and feeling yourself drip already. “I can’t imagine how good–” You cut yourself short to moan at the way his other hand holds his pants down while he jerks his hand up faster and faster. “Oh god, you’re–”
“Wanna see how fast I can cum just looking at you?” He continues, hand only moving faster and faster as his grip tightens more, shamelessly grunting proudly over how he could probably cum now if he wanted to. “I told you, I can go all night.”
You pause, because goddamn. You thought he would be embarrassing, pathetic, needy. You thought he would beg, plead, and cry. But…you feel like you’re the one who needs to do that. God, you’ve never seen a man so desperate to fuck yet be so powerful about it. As if he’s in your face whispering, “You’re gonna let me fuck you, right? You’re gonna love it too, right? You’re gonna let me use you to take care of this little problem of mine, right? It’s what you want, right?”
If he were to say those things to you right now, you’d nod without a doubt. But…he doesn’t. He simply looks at you now, heaving out broken moans that sound too sexy to be considered pathetic. His hips chase each movement of his hand and goddamn does he fuck his fist hard.
Your mind is spinning watching him, knowing that he’s probably going to fuck you twice as hard as he fucks himself. And it’s not surprising to you at least that you can feel your own clit swell and throb for touch too. You easily move your hand between your legs, standing right there in front of him, toying with yourself as if you don’t have the power to ask him to do it for you.
“Ah, fuck–” Jake groans, thrusting his hips up into his hand one last time before strings of his cum make a mess on his shirt. And it seems to go on forever too, spurt after spurt of it pumping out of him alongside his pretty moans and open-mouthed expression. You can feel your body react to him more than it ever has for anyone else, especially in the way….
“God–” You moan yourself now, watching him spread his legs and slouch more against your couch with a relieved sigh from his messy orgasm. But…his cock doesn’t soften. No, it stays stiff and heavy against his stomach, twitching and dribbling more and more of his cum out in little beads.
The proof of his issue is right here, he really can and probably will go all night. And you say nothing else to him after that. In fact, he wouldn’t be able to answer you if you did say something simply because you find yourself stepping up onto your own couch, resting your knees against the back of it, and gripping his hair.
Jake lets out a half-moan-half-hum, as expected, when he feels your hand drag his face under your skirt. You didn’t have to do that, but goddamn does he fucking love it. He loves how he can feel your knees buckle and force you to balance on the couch, loves how your cunt is just as needy as he feels, fucking adores the way you drip all over his tongue when he pushes your panties to the side and starts licking you up.
It’s the fact that he didn’t even have to ask you to put it in his face. The slight taste against his fingers all night at work is nothing compared to the way you drown him now. He needs to do this for you. Hell, he needs to do this for himself.
“Jesus,” You breathe, rolling your hips on his mouth. He’s truly eating you like his life depends on it. You can hear his muffled hums at the taste, you can feel his shoulder shake as he starts jerking off again, you can feel the way his tongue goes deeper and deeper, licking each clench of your walls, only to pull back and suck the wet from your panties in a deep breath.
He coos at it too, as if he’s in love with the moment, as if he truly can’t believe he’s finally got a pussy to lick. And he swallows each mouth full of your slick before muttering curses and promises against your swollen little bud.
“Please,” He moans, nipping and licking against you. “Been so long since I’ve eaten pussy, rub it on me- fuck-” he continues to babble, heat-of-the-moment-talk coming out as far more arousing than cringe if you listen hard through your ringing ears. “Come on,” He continues, now neglecting his own cock and gripping your ass with both hands, shoving you back and forth on his face in painfully slow and harsh grinds. “Come on, harder.”
As if you can function at all right now with how rough he is about trying to pleasure you? Fucking hell, the words ignite something in you as you pull back and away from him. For a split second, you see his blown out pupils and fucked up hair as he licks his lips and presents that shining lower-half of his face to you.
You don’t look for long though, no. Because you’re too busy pushing him to the side and forcing him to lay back on the couch instead. You resume your position afterwards, straddling the couch on either side of his head with your knees and planting your pulsing cunt right on his eager tongue.
“You’re too hot,” You moan, feeling his hands go straight back to your ass to force more of those harsh grinds against him. “If you could see yourself right now–” Your eyes roll back in pleasure as you feel his moaned out chuckle hit you right in the clit. It’s like he knows he makes you feel good, but does he really?
Does he truly understand how fucking good at this he is?
“God, if you could feel how good your tongue is–” You continue, now losing yourself in the heat of the moment, feeling his fingers nearly bruise your ass with the death-grip he has on you.
He nods his head in what little space he has as he spirals into heaven behind his eyes. The smell of you suffocates him, the taste of you drowns him, the weight of you is nothing short of sexy as hell. This is all he could ever want. A pretty girl using and abusing his face, much like he wants to do to you. But oh, there’s so, so much he wants to do after so long of having no one but himself.
Eat you out, finger fuck you, slide his cock down that pretty little moaning throat of yours, grip that hair and kiss those tits. God, he wants to do everything right now but he can’t bear to push this perfect clit off of his lips. He cannot fathom losing the taste of you and the way you clench around the tip of his tongue.
Oh fuck.
“Ahh- '' Jake moans open-mouthed against your clit as his brain hits a wall, his cock standing stiff from behind you as he spills out against himself again. Untouched completely, he cums without any effort where as previously it took him hours just to get off because he’d grown so fucking bored of everything.
You’ve ignited him. His drive is higher than it’s ever been after being neglected for so long. God, he wants to fuck you so full that you can’t bear to leave him.
“Fuck–” He continues, trying to lend licks between his jerking body to keep your arousal peaked. “See how bad I need it?”
He finally manages to pull back, feeling you lift from his face just for a moment after noting the way his entire body is shaking. He’s not having it though, as he cranes his neck in chase of your dripping hole once more.
“Where do you think you’re going?” He adds now, enveloping his lips around your clit again and using both hands to force you right back down on his face.
There, you feel the way he almost passionately makes out with your pussy. As if he’s thanking you for a second orgasm within the past ten minutes. As if he truly can’t stop wanting to fuck something, someone, anything at all.
Goddamn, what a fucking deal. All hail the hook-up app that brought this insatiable sex beast to your apartment.
“Jake–” You start, grinding down for him and feeling his hands now move to rub up and down your back. “Keep your tongue in me.” You choke out, gripping his hair to hold his face in place as you sit his tongue inside of you, short and jerky thrusts forward to bump your clit against his nose.
He’s gotten off twice now, it’s your turn.
And you watch as he drops his arms from you and grips your outer legs through it, letting you use his face until he can’t breathe. Both of you are seeing stars through it, your orgasm bubbling up so quickly that you can barely warn him when your hips halt in a stiffened clench and he’s finishing the job for you.
Your legs squeeze around his head, your fingers pull his hair, and still he manages to find the space to tilt his chin up just to tongue-fuck you deeper, just to rub his nose harshly against your clit, up until he feels your quivering pussy spill all over his chin, down his throat, stealing any breath or moan he could possibly give right now.
You’re out of breath by the time you finally slide off of his face, your hands immediately shooting to both of his cheeks as your sensitive clit drags down his stomach for the easy position change. You wince when you lick against his lips at the sensitivity, being sure to seat yourself right against his cock.
“Hah–” Jake lends a breathy laugh against the way you lick his lips, his hands going right back to your ass and landing a sharp slap to it. “Couldn’t even get our clothes off first.”
You take a second to pull back and look at him, noting the redness against his cheeks and nose, likely from your panties consistently getting in his way and then you chuckle back at him. You’re thankful for the short break the two of you seem to be taking at the moment. Still, you lift up from him just to remove your shirt, exposing your tits in an instant solely because you didn’t wear a bra for this exact purpose.
He’s still hard, despite two orgasms. You feel him rubbing it against you every few seconds, right up against your saliva and cum-soaked panties which, mind you, are insanely uncomfortable right now. It feels as if they’re slicing through your thigh with the force of how Jake managed to keep them shoved out of his way.
“Just lay back,” You smile at him, allowing him a longer rest for now as you take it upon yourself to remove the barriers. “Let me take care of you now.”
Jake has hearts in his eyes as he watches you. Normally, a girl would already be falling asleep after all that, leaving him with not enough orgasms and no actual fucking. It’s not his fault he could do foreplay for upwards of three to four hours before going for the finale. Which, arguably, can and will last several hours longer.
Still, you appear to not be finished either, with your breathless smile and gentle hands. He bites his bottom lip through a smirk as he watches you, tits on full display to keep him satiated for now as you move around on the couch to get his pants off of him. He helps a bit with a little kick, his cock still so sensitive and pathetically weeping for more. He feels lucky to have found you, almost baffled that he may have met his match.
You lend several glances at his cock, not quite realizing the way he’s blinking at you right now. To be fair, it’s only natural to have your attention on that thing right now. You swallow around your nervousness regarding the size but equally want him to fuck you senseless with it. You already feel entirely fucked out, but…that. Oh, that could change your life, probably. You can imagine he won’t be as gentle as you expected before all of this too. Would probably shove it in all in one go and lose his mind at the feeling.
He’s probably going to split you open and make it feel good for you too. Somehow.
Anyway, enough of that. You’ve still got to get his shirt off, your uncomfortable skirt and panties too.
You make quick work of it, as you stand to your feet and expose yourself entirely to him. Jake just watches, humming and moaning at each new expanse of skin you show to him. He keeps his hands to himself though, likely so used to feeling of them that they’d bring no pleasure at this moment if he were to jerk off to you doing this. And you just…look right back at him.
“Come on,” You smile at him again, lending your hand out for him to grab. “Bedroom will be more comfortable.”
Right. Bedrooms exist.
Jake follows, cock heavy and sensitive against his thigh with each step as he tries to get up close behind you. His eyes stay on your ass as you walk in front of him, and it’s not hard for him to keep his hands on it. In fact, he’s touching you as often as he can, trying to remind himself that he’s with someone right now who actually wants him.
You seem to be willing to let him do what he needs tonight, and hopefully it won’t be the only time.
You feel him on you, clinging so closely, hands constantly groping, lips always trying to reach the back of your neck and shoulders, to the point it’s actually difficult to get to your bedroom because you want nothing more than to turn around and shove him against the wall, all to try and take him into your mouth just to see if you can.
He doesn’t really let you think about that for too long though, because the second you get to your bedroom, he’s grabbing you from behind and lifting you in his strong arms. You writhe in his grasp with playful giggles, feeling the strong hold he has on you, keeping you in place against him as he stumbles forward with a deep inhale into your neck.
He’s quick to make his way to your bed, dropping you onto it, flipping you over onto your back, and immediately slotting himself between your legs. He hovers over you for a minute, looking directly into your eyes as his hair falls forward.
Somehow, you’re more focused on his face than you are of his cock that he’s sliding up and down your core right now. You reach up to his hair, brushing it out of his face and feeling the sticky sweat at his scalp.
“Could eat you out again.” Jake mentions, hips thrusting against you but eyes calm and level with yours. “Could lock me up in here and just use me all day if you want.” He continues, partially being serious about it, but treating it as if it’s some kinky joke instead.
Because let’s be honest. If there’s any job Jake could do better than anyone else, it’s be a woman’s fuck toy. Always ready to go, always stiff and horny, always willing to please.
“Could slide in right now and let you feel how hard I am.” His voice gets breathier as he talks, and you can tell he’s just imagining everything he wants to do. He probably worries he’ll have to go home at some point tonight only to resume his search for potential fucks to keep his need satiated.
He probably thinks he’s going to exhaust you.
“Could let you do all of that and more.” You respond, lifting your hips just slightly to press his cock between your bodies, throwing your legs around his waist simultaneously with the way you wrap your arms around his neck. “You want me to lock you up in here?”
Jake nods with a sigh, squeezing his eyes shut as if he can imagine it.
“Do you work tomorrow?”
He shakes his head with another sigh, focusing on the way you keep humping up against his length, sliding yourself in whatever way you can against him.
“Maybe I’ll just have to do that then.”
Oh, damn.
The heart eyes are back. The very thought of being in this room all night and all day tomorrow drives his cock to pulse and twitch. Foreplay can come whenever, fucking can come whenever, he can cum whenever. There’s no need for a to-do list. No need for a specific structure of rules on how this needs to happen. Foreplay, sex, sleep. Not with Jake.
Sex. foreplay. sex. foreplay. for hours. He’ll keep you up all night if he can, fucking and sucking every part of you, into the morning hours straight into tomorrow night.
Free use with you from now until you’re tired of him. You can do anything you want to him but for now…
“Yeah?” Jake breathes out in excitement, arching his back slightly to let his cock land against your hole, and then he pushes forward slowly. The bulbous head spreads your lips and stretches out your slick pussy with ease as he continues to speak. “Feel that?”
Your eyes flutter shut at the sensation, fingernails already digging into his shoulders at the anticipation as your legs loosen around him. He continues to push forward, inch by inch, painfully slow as if he wants you to feel the burn and stretch even while being as wet as you are.
“Ah–” He confirms for himself as he watches your face, wincing, mouth falling open. “Yeah, you feel it.”
God, yeah. You do. You feel the weight of his size inside of you, stretching you open so good he probably wouldn’t even have to move for it to hurt. But he does move, he does continue to slide in, savoring every second of your walls quivering and suffocating his cock.
“Goddamn,” He groans, lifting up on both arms and bracing himself as he looks down, only to find he’s only slid half of his dick into you, and already you’re about as breathless as he is. “Didn’t realize how tight you’d actually be–”
He chokes when he says it, sliding out little by little before fucking back in, pushing just a bit more into you.
“S’okay.” You try to reassure him, but it’s more for you than it is for him. You really didn’t think a cock could feel so big that it actually hurts, yet, here you are. “I’m adjusting.”
Jake moans at your broken voice, no longer holding himself back to look at your pussy grip him when he pulls out slightly. He looks at your face instead, witnessing how you take all of it in one solid movement from him. All of it, until he can feel his pelvis rest against your clit and your entire body stiffens in a tight hug around his body.
“Mhm,” He leans back down now, humming against your cheek as he tries to control the urge to fuck. “Taking all of it, aren’t you?”
With those words, he slides out slightly before pushing back in again, trying to force your pussy to relax so that he can stop holding his breath. One hand finds its way to your leg to hold onto, the other holding himself up beside your head, and he just…watches.
Little by little, he thrusts. Plunging into you in short-tight snaps of his hips just to watch your tits jiggle with the movements, up until he really, really can’t hold back anymore.
You feel his cock leave you almost entirely, only to slam right back in and cause your vision to go white with a pang of pleasure. Your loud yelp pairs well with his relieved sigh of a grunt, and it appears that this is what breaks him entirely.
That single, full thrust, lets him fall forward and nuzzle his nose against your neck and his body just goes. Instinctually chasing the deepest parts inside of you, hitting your cervix with each thrust only to drag back and make your toes go numb at the way your g-spot feels entirely too sensitive with this alone.
And god, Jake loves the way you cling through it. The way you moan each time he bottoms out, the way your nails cut into his back and the way your legs continuously fail to stay wrapped around him. He…
Oh no.
“I can go all night–” He breathes out through his relentless thrusts, almost as if he’s pleading with you. “I swear, I’m not done–” He continues to cut off his own words with choked moans as he pulls back and leans up, frantically forgetting to apologize over the fact that he’s already about to cum again.
And you feel him try to slide out, that face he made twice before already alerting you that he really must have so much to pump out of himself at this point. You don’t mind if he’s about to hit a third orgasm, in fact, you’re glad.
Your legs hold him in place as he fights to pull out, his eyes snapping to you in realization after the second time he tries.
“No fucking way, you– you want it?” His eyebrows fall into that of a relieved release as he, too, falls right back down against your chest and lets his hips fuck freely.
He’s not controlling it at this point. You feel him stretch you open more through his orgasm, rolling his hips but not pulling out even in the slightest now. Moving back and forth, as if trying to stuff you impossibly full while he releases those thick ropes of cum. It…feels so good even with the way the base of his cock continues to swirl and loosen you up in a painful stretch that almost feels like he’s ripping you open. Still, the pain is gone as he shakes on top of you, in fact, you feel your clit throb at the feeling of how big he is, of how hard he manages to stay.
He didn’t even fuck you that roughly before this, but it feels like you’re already ruined. Ruined enough to want more. Enough to need more.
“Bet that feels good,” You chuckle against his hair, feeling each pulse of him and loving the way he pants against your ear. “Not having to pull out, knowing you can fuck me for as long as you want.”
That only pushes his orgasm to hit harder. He thought he was nearing the end of it, but instead, his body goes into overdrive as more pulses of cum shoot out of him at your words. There’s so…so much of it he can give you. And if this is what you want, he’s the perfect man to do it for you.
“Don’t say that, oh god–” Jake mumbles through the end of his orgasm, keeping himself tucked nice and deep into you as he releases his body weight and makes you feel slightly suffocated under him. “Please.”
Well, he minds his manners well enough, you shrug under him, clenching around his length unintentionally and reminding him that you genuinely can go all night, just like him.
Reminding him that maybe you really will just lock him up in this room all tonight, all tomorrow. He seems into the idea anyway, right? Both of you just free-use sex dolls for the time being…Hell yeah.
And as Jake catches his breath, he finally lifts up, pulling you with him, and sits you directly on his lap now.
“Keep going then, don’t let it get soft.” He nearly whimpers, solely due to the sensitivity his cock is now offering and the fact that after that third orgasm, he truly is gaining the ability to go flaccid between orgasms.
And you follow his direction, though not entirely how he wanted you to. Instead of rolling your hips, you slip him right out of you and sink your face down between his legs, loving the way his cum spills out of you all the while. You don’t even say anything, not that you’d need to. He watches you, a smirk forming on his lips as he raises an arm and throws it over his eyes.
“Shit, You’re so my type.” He groans out of the sexual frustration that still bubbles within him. You look so good down there with his cock just inches from your mouth. God, no woman has been able to go down on him for too long despite really fucking wishing they would.
His hips always lose control, they don’t like face fucking, he’s too big to fit, they’re gagging too much, their jaw is hurting. What the fuck ever. Look at you, blinking up at him like you want nothing more in the world than to take it all down your throat. Ah, fuck, if you did that…
His hips buck up on instinct, forcing you to hold him down with your arms as you lick your lips.
“You really live up to your promise, you know that?” You smile with warmed cheeks as you speak, blowing air gently against the head of his cock. It’s softened up a little, but it’s no longer going flaccid. You’re sure that the second you work it into your mouth, he’s going to be blocking your airways.
Good.
“You say that like I’m not overwhelming you with all of this,” He chuckles as he moves his arm from his face and down to yours. “Most girls would have already sent me home.”
You circle your lips around the bulbous head, tasting the remnants of both you and him as you gently suckle before popping off and licking your lips.
“Well, Jake–” You look back down and lend his cock a little kiss. “I’m not most girls. Besides, most guys get their nut and leave me hanging. You’ve gotten, what? Three orgasms by now? And you’re still in my bed? Wanting me to lock you up tomorrow too? What a fucking win.”
Jake rolls his eyes because you don’t even know the fucking half of it. If he were a normal guy, he probably would have done the same thing. Maybe not to you, but to others? Yeah. The thing is, he’s not like most guys. And you’re right in saying you’re not like most girls either, considering…your sex drive appears to be just as insatiable as his.
“Fuck, let me eat you out again–” Jake groans now, needing to pleasure you again, aroused by the fact that he’s basically met a female version of himself. Even if he’s just exaggerating and making himself believe such a woman could exist close enough to him. “Let me– Ahh…”
You cut off his words, dragging a loud and sensual moan from him as you sink down. Mostly to shut him up, mostly so you can return the favor for him from earlier before letting him have another lick of you. After all, you truly do appreciate him for all of this.
“Mmf–” You mumble unintentionally, feeling each inch of his length that you swallow up pressing your tongue further and further down in your mouth. Up until you’re entirely open mouthed on him, gagging yourself when he hits your throat only to angle yourself up on your knees to point it straight down your throat instead.
It hurts, but you close your eyes in concentration, breathing through each gag, ignoring the dribble of saliva that runs from the corners of your mouth and– you swallow.
Mostly because you can’t suck. Again and again, you swallow around him just to stimulate his length, the girth stretching your lips out to the point you feel your jaw could break, but it doesn’t and it won’t.
Within an instant of taking his whole length down your throat, you feel his hands in your hair. Your ears are ringing, otherwise you would also be listening to him choke on his words at how you’re doing this to him. All of it. You’re taking him in full, not leaving an inch out, seemingly proving that your mouth can be fucked just as good as your cunt.
He’s in heaven, head spinning as you stimulate him through each gag and sputtered out chokes of a moan. He can’t help it when he grabs your hair, he really doesn’t mean it when he pushes your head down while pressing his hips up. Essentially choking you and suffocating you in full with a paused hold.
You brace yourself on his hips when he does this, squeezing your eyes shut and continuously gagging from the way he abuses your mouth with just that small movement, and then– he pulls back.
“Ahh,” He groans, snapping his hips back and holding you by the hair to keep you from chasing. “You like that?” He continues, letting you breathe but not answer at all before he’s pushing your head right back down, holding you there again and fucking his hips up repeatedly into your throat this time.
The sounds are pornographic at best, concerning at worst. You, searching for air somewhere between his thrusts, the sounds of wet sputters, drooling, whimpered groans from him, and desperate gasps and gags from you. Truly, Jake is in heaven right now. With you, specifically, you’ve brought him to heaven.
For you, it feels like he does this forever. You’re losing the ability to comprehend what breathing ever was in the first place, thankfully though, Jake can see the tears pouring from your eyes and feel the way you fall slightly limp, letting him do as he pleases before he realizes– he may actually be overwhelming you now.
He snaps his hips back quickly, pulling you up and off of the last remaining inches of his weeping cock before taking a good, long look at your gasped breath and abused lips. Tongue licking out and eyes stained.
“I’m sorry, fuck, I–”
Instantly you press yourself down on him once again, resuming your original position of sliding him in until you can’t stand the feeling in your throat, gagging and swallowing around him time and time again. You feel proud of it, proud of the pain, proud of the suffocation.
Fucking proud to not be finished with him compared to every other person, apparently.
“Jesus–” He groans now, his entire body slouching against your bed as he slams his head back and starts petting your cheeks. “It’s like you were born for this. For me.”
You hum around the gags, growing accustomed to swallowing him up and feeling your jaw strain. And just a few moments later, you pull up with a deep breath, a smile, and you start rubbing your jaw.
“Maybe I was,” You try to talk dirty, wanting to drive him insane. “You taste so good.” You add, dipping down again to lick a long stripe up the underside of his balls up to his tip. “Any girl should be proud to say you’d fuck her mouth like that.”
A twitch, he rolls his eyes back and clenches his jaw.
“How are you so…” He breathes out, reaching his hands blindly for you, only to feel you shift on the bed and essentially sit your tits into both of his hands. “perfect?”
You shrug when he opens his eyes, you’re now hovering over him, both hands covering his on your tits as you force him to squeeze and grope.
“Maybe it’s best to not ask questions.” You tilt your head playfully. “Besides, if I’m lucky maybe you’ll stop trying to find other girls to fuck. They can’t take care of you like I will, anyway.”
Oh, you damn fucking right they won’t.
“You can have it any time you want.” Jake smiles, relishing in your tits warming under his palms, watching the way you hover over him tall and proud on your knees. “Could play with you every day and never get bored.”
You feel him move his hand from under yours, going straight between your legs and sliding not two, but three fingers into you with ease.
“Still so wet too,” He hums, eyes narrowing at you with that same pretty grin. “You always this horny?”
You shake your head.
“Not usually, you just turn me on.”
Jake feels proud of that. He doesn’t feel like the odd ball with a dick that can’t be satiated no matter how many pussies he plows through in a night. Which, again, for the past year has been a total of zero pussy. You getting turned on by that makes him feel…capable. Makes him feel like maybe he can be put to use by a pretty girl.
Makes him feel like his need is wanted and well taken care of.
“So, I can keep calling you?” He asks now, fucking his fingers up, loving the warmth and slide, anticipating for when he gets to bury his cock in you again.
“Mhm.” You hum, closing your eyes to enjoy the pleasure of how deep even his fingers reach. Kind of ready for him to stop talking and just focus on what he’s doing to you.
“Even if it’s every single day?” He continues to ask, now using his thumb against your clit. “Even if I need you in the middle of the night?”
Anything he wants if he can keep hitting your g-spot like this.
“Yes, Jake,” You sigh out of aroused frustration, now wiggling your hips to chase that stimulation inside of you. “I’ll give you the fucking key to my apartment if you want. Just let you walk right in and start fucking me.”
His fingers move faster at the image, the implication of not just free-use, but true free use. Real free-use.
“Yeah? Wake you up with my cock sliding into you?” He urges you to keep talking, now removing his other hand from your chest and circling it around his cock. “Just walk right in and get my mouth on you while all your friends are here?”
You lend a surprised chuckle, but pay no mind to his words past the arousal it brings to you. You’d tell him about how you have a total of like two friends, and half of the time they’re too busy to show up anyway. Still, the image is hot at the moment. All of it is hot.
“You’d let me?” He continues pressing every button both physically and mentally, unaware of how easy it is for him to talk as if it’s a normal conversation solely because it’s kind of his general state of living at this point. You, on the other hand, are not used to having a full conversation while your g-spot gets abused. “Even if you’re not home? Let you come home and find me fucking myself for you?”
Oh.
“Fuck–” You groan out at the image, feeling his fingers reach so perfectly, thinking of how it would feel to walk into your apartment just to see this pretty man chasing that tight ring of fingers his fist creates. Probably so turned on and frustrated that you’re not home…so frustrated that all he could do is drop to the floor and start fucking. “God, yeah.”
So that’s what you’re into. You love that he’s that pathetic to fuck. And lucky for you, he’s more than willing to continue to be that fucking pathetic.
“Does that feel good?” He hums now, watching how you fuck yourself against his fingers, lifting slightly to lick against your nipple. “Can I use my cock again?” He babbles almost, brain on constant loop of you actually giving him free reign of your apartment someday so he can come and–”Please, do this on my cock.”
This is the second time he’s asked you to ride it, and you think that may be one time too many. You almost feel guilty for taking him down your throat first, but then again, you don’t. Your body vibrates knowing you’re about to split yourself open on him again, only this time having full control.
“You want me to sit on it, Jake?” You smile, thrusting your hips down and sinking his fingers into you so deep that you physically can see his brain malfunction.
The frantic nod he gives is somehow less powerful than how he lifts his hips, forcing you higher on your knees as his fingers slip out of you and immediately land in his mouth.
Man, this guy must love the taste of pussy. The image of him doing that alone is insanely arousing to you as you lend him a short nod and slide back, your pussy sucking in the head of his cock instantly as if the two of you move together so well, that it was only natural to not need a guiding hand for it.
He sinks his head deep into the mattress with the way you try to sink down on him. He holds his breath with those same fingers in his mouth, squeezing his eyes shut at how tight you still are, how wet you still are.
And he’s shocked, almost, at the way you just keep sliding down. Not letting yourself re-adjust to his size, holding your own breath and bracing yourself on his abdomen just to keep balance and you wince through the stretch.
“That’s it.” Jake soothes your hips as you sit, clenching around each one of his twitches inside of you. “Doing so good.” He breathes out this time, trying to hold back his moan just for a moment as he awaits your moan first.
And it comes quickly when you lean back rather than against him, arms by his knees as you practically present his cock to him buried entirely into you with this position. He lifts his head and stares at it before reaching his thumb to your clit, immediately pressing hard circles against it.
“Ride it,” He pleads now. “God, please ride it.” He loses his mind at the image, really, as you do start moving.
Pained whimpers falling from your lips as you circle your hips, fucking just an inch of him in and out of yourself, forcing the deepest part of your pussy to take the abuse more than anything else. And you know he loves it with the way his thumb stops rubbing your clit, with the way he can’t decide on if he should look or throw his head back and fall into the sensation.
It’s really cute to witness, and you’d lean forward to kiss him if you had the strength to do it, but you don’t. In fact, all the strength you have is currently bubbling up inside of you with a sharp, almost burning sensation.
You know exactly what this is. You’ve practiced it time and time again alone in this bed.
“Oh, oh shit, Jake–” You groan as you frantically start moving your hips through the full and splitting feeling of him inside of you. Your voice sounds so panicked, it almost scares him. And honestly? Had he not have finger fucked you against your g-spot previously perhaps you could last longer on him, but no.
“What– What’s wrong?!” Jake’s voice is broken when he quickly leans up, hugging around you as you continue to ride against him, faster now, chasing, chasing, chasing.
Pushing, pushing, pushing.
“No, no!” You moan out, shoving him back against the bed and now lifting entirely from his length before slapping your own clit, fast, rough circled motions before each slap. “Oh, shit!” You nearly yell, witnessing it squirt from your body straight against his abdomen and chest.
Jake just watches, mouth agape and eyes wide.
“Oh–” He stares. “Oh yeah?”
And you’re not even done when he seemingly takes full control. Allowing all that squirt to fall out of you, ignoring your shaking legs, tipping you straight back and plunging his cock right back into that release of pressure inside of you.
“You just weren’t gonna tell me you could do that?” He grunts against your ear, fucking into you so hard and so fast that your orgasm just keeps coming. It feels too good to speak, too good to breathe.
Even as it subsides and you’re trying to catch your breath, he doesn’t let you. He just keeps going, grunting incoherently against your ear, snapping his hips harder than you think he’s probably ever done before.
Honestly, with each yelp you let out, your sensitivity goes from being unbearably painful to–
“Do it again–” He urges you. “Give me another one.” Babbling, cooing, fucking moaning all over your neck until his lips hit yours.
Somehow, that gives him exactly what he wants as he feels your legs tense up and fall open around him. Your pelvis slamming into his so hard that it’s, quite literally, splashing out of you in loud and painful sounds.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” He nods and whispers against your tongue, sucking it into his mouth before licking into yours, nearly rabid with the way he’s both kissing and fucking you, he can’t help it. He forgot words the second he felt the gush rush past his length, trying to force it out of you only for him to go harder. Like hell he’s not going to feel you literally squirt on his cock. “So fucking messy.”
At one point, you think you might have actually died. You’re not sure but you swear you saw him fucking you in third person for two solid seconds before being slammed right back into your body. The pleasure genuinely is so overwhelming that…well, suddenly you understand why girls probably think he’s too much.
But goddamn he’s…so good. Like, you remember him mentioning his body count through his one-sided sext session with you and you can argue his inexperience probably made this that much better. He’s a fucking natural.
And as he continues fucking into you, all you can do is lend him a distant smile. You’re definitely not experiencing real life at this moment, and you know he sees it with the way he lifts and keeps his eyes on your zoned out expression.
“Look at you.” He echoes against your walls. “So, so pretty.”
And he just keeps doing that, whispering praises, working you through his presumed last orgasm of the night because he genuinely can’t not fill you up with his cum one last time before letting you rest.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
The rest didn’t last long, but to be fair you didn’t need it to. All night, and all day. That promise was kept and Jake remained insatiable throughout all the time he spent with you.
To the point you very nearly felt strange about him leaving. Like you’d grown so accustomed to having someone literally attached to you at the dick that you knew the loneliness and silence would hit you a little too hard once he leaves.
And, well, he does leave in a sense, but not completely.
Though you never truly meant that offer in the midst of sex-talk, Jake seemed to have clinged to the idea of it. Lock him up, but still give him the key.
Never in your life would have imagined giving a person the key to your apartment, and yet…there he goes. Backing out of a guest parking spot in front of your building with your spare fucking apartment key in his pocket right next to those fucking panties.
TW and tags: threesome (late poly?), cheating, dubious consent (from smoking and drinking), toxic!Seunghan.
WC: 6.8K (okay we getting better at making shorter stuff)
Summary: Seunghan doesn’t need a clingy girlfriend, but Anton and Wonbin do.
Comment: I did say that pretty boys with fried hair were my weakness. I think the images make this look darker than what it really is, sorry if you expect something heavy dark, this is not it (except for Seunghan’s toxic behaviour).
7:30 PM was too early to give up.
You shifted in your seat, trying to concentrate on another thing that wasn’t the hour, how the light of the TV was slightly blinding you in the dark room, and how the skin under your thighs was sweating.
Half an hour before you had told yourself that nothing would make you leave without having a proper conversation with your boyfriend, but he not being there hadn’t crossed your mind, and you were just so relieved that his friends hadn’t asked you to leave, that the possibility of Seunghan not coming back with the knowledge of you being there just started to settle in.
Anton was already choosing a movie from the big carton box in Wonbin’s living room when you arrived, and Wonbin was picking a few beers when he saw you from his window, grabbing a fanta grape for you, perfectly knowing why you were standing there on his doorstep at 7PM.
Looking at the movie, between your boyfriend’s friends on each side, you tried to remind yourself why you were there.
Seunghan had dated you for almost half a year, he’s been your first everything, your first date, your first confession, your first boyfriend and your first orgasm, and everything was good, so you didn’t get why the sudden change with him.
Well, not everything was good, but didn’t all couples have problems? Why would he act so differently after some discussions and a few refusals?
It’s been days since the last time he answered one of your calls, and his messages were getting shorter and shorter, leaving you on read for hours and only answering when he knew you were asleep.
Sorry, been busy.
What kind of excuse was that?
You decided to have a talk with him to fix things, perhaps you weren’t paying enough attention to other signals, or perhaps he was getting tired of you not being able to go to his gigs and wait for him when he practised, but he knew how was your family when you started, so why was he suddenly pushing you to do things he perfectly knew you couldn’t?
‘’Can you call him again?’’ you asked Anton for the third time.
You didn’t dare to look him in the eyes while making that question again, but Seunghan wasn’t answering any of your calls, and you didn’t know what else to do, he had at least answered the first time Anton called him when you arrived.
You didn’t have to say anything for him to grab his phone and mark Seunghan’s number when you arrived. ‘’She’s here’’ he had said, and he had tried to pass you the phone, but Seunghan had ended the call before you could talk.
Still, even having bothered him enough after that first call, Anton did it, he called him, and to prove he was doing it, he showed you how his name appeared on his screen, ringing a couple of times before the woman’s voice saying you could leave a message, and that you knew a bit too well by that point, started.
Seunghan was declining the calls of his friends now.
You shifted on your seat, looking down at your hands and the drops of the cold can fall over your uncovered thighs.
Feeling stupid, you bit the inside of your cheek, trying to hold back your tears to not show how much you were hurting in front of the boys.
‘’Baby, what’s wrong?’’ Wonbin asked, looking at your shoulders get smaller and you blinking the tears away.
He knew what was wrong, everyone knew.
‘’Seunghan is seeing someone else, right?’’ you asked back, hands gripping the metallic object in your hands, leaving dents on it, and making your fingertips change from the reddish lively colour they always had to a pale one.
Both stayed silent.
‘’I’m so stupid’’ you sourly laughed, drinking the rest of your fanta.
Anton stood up to grab you another one, you knew it, but shaking your head you asked for a beer instead.
‘’But you hate it’’ he replied.
‘’Anton, I’ve been abandoned, could you please give me a beer?’’ you said, hurt, and as polite as always.
‘’Try mine’’ Wonbin offered, putting his bottle in front of you and surprising you, but resting your hand over his holding the drink, you accepted that he maintained it in the air for you, moved it closer to your mouth and tilted it for you to drink it.
It tasted terrible, you didn’t understand why they all drank it like water, you didn’t see the point of getting drunk, and usually, when you went out with them, you ended up being the one taking care of your boyfriend at parties instead of the other way around, like he usually promised before he made you sneak out.
Feeling even sadder, you moved his hand higher and drank a bigger gulp of that beer with earthy flavour.
Making a face at the end, and pushing Wonbin’s hand away, you didn’t want to say out loud how bad it tasted so Anton didn’t say an I told you that reminded you of your dad every time you made a mistake, like dating Seunghan.
Anton gave you another can of your fanta grape and sat with crossed arms, focusing on the TV again to not make you conscious.
‘’Thank you’’ you said, and he nodded.
‘’Just drink what you want, we buy that stuff for you anyways’’ Anton said later.
You felt piteous, and trying to brush the awkward moment you put yourself on, when your eyes saw Wonbin’s stash on the TV stand, you interrupted them again.
‘’Why aren’t you smoking?’’ you asked purely out of curiosity.
They used to always share a joint after they finished playing the same five songs they had an entire afternoon, and the first times they had even invited you to smoke with them, or well, Seunghan did, until Wonbin told him to leave you alone if you didn’t want to.
You didn’t like to stay there for long for that reason, you wouldn’t do anything at all, yet you felt like an uninvited guest sitting and limiting them with your presence because of all the things you couldn’t do, afraid of making them hate you every time you walked there with Seunghan pulling you by the hand.
‘’I thought you hated when the smell stayed on your clothes’’ Wonbin replied, and it wasn't a guess, he had heard you telling it to Seunghan when he tried to convince you that a hit wouldn’t hurt you.
You didn’t hate it solely because of that, you hated that it was an aroma hard to mask, and your dad was not as hard on you as he was before, but you still trembled every time you arrived at your house after spending an afternoon with a high Seunghan, afraid of your dad thinking that you were the one smoking it, and the consequences you would have to face.
You hated when Seunghan tried to force you onto things he knew would put you in a lot of trouble, it was nice that he had pushed you to do certain things you wouldn’t have dared until you met him, like wearing skirts, buying makeup and going to parties, but you had explained your reasons in detail for not smoking, and he had continued insisting.
Still, you never expected them all to not smoke for something you had told your boyfriend in supposed secret.
‘’That didn’t stop you before’’ you answered, taking another sip of your soda and trying to brush off the sudden blush on your cheeks, maybe you were overthinking it, you tried to tell yourself, why would they do something like that for you when they weren’t even something yours? They were your boyfriend’s friends, and nothing else, ‘’you can smoke if you want, don’t mind me’’.
Frowning, you let the new can rest over your thighs, and feeling the intense coldness bring you back to the moment, you saw how Anton didn’t waste a single second to light a joint up, happy to finally do something with his mouth now that he had your permission.
He always preferred smoking more than drinking, so you couldn’t understand how he survived the ‘’not smoking’’ rule they had created without your knowledge, and even if you weren’t around that much lately for it to be considered a real restrain, it still surprised you.
That didn’t change the fact that you had taken care of him on a couple of occasions though. Just like holding Wonbin’s hair when he got extremely wasted and threw up in strangers' bathrooms, you had let Anton sleep with his head on your lap when he smoked and ate a bit too much while Seunghan or Sohee ran to 24/7 convenience stores for something to bring him back to life.
‘’Do you want to try it?’’ he asked you, and you, deciding to do something different for your break-up, nodded.
‘’Do you even know how to smoke?’’ Wonbin inquired, laughing beside you.
‘’I’ve seen you two doing it more than enough’’ you quickly said, sounding different from usual and making Anton laugh, because it was true, especially with him.
Passing you the stick, you observed it for a good minute between your fingers, debating in your insides if it was worthy, but then you looked to the side, at how the drums frames of your boyfriend reflected the light of the TV, and you remembered why you were there.
Taking in air, you breathed, then moved it closer to your face, and seeing the little tip, you sucked it deep and nice.
They watched you as if they were studying you, having high expectations of your confidence, and laughing loudly when you coughed.
‘’Calm down’’ Wonbin took the joint from your hand, showing you how to do it right.
His lips barely touched it, and he nicely inhaled the smoke, holding it in like a pro, closing his eyes, and then slowly letting it out. It was an honest lesson, but you felt as if he had challenged you, and letting him pass it to Anton, you waited for your turn to prove yourself again.
This time you did it better, holding it in for longer, and softly letting it out like he did, watching him look at you with that cheeky grin.
It wasn’t even 8:15 when you checked again, and you had until 10 to stay and then go home, that was your curfew and you followed it religiously to avoid problems. So, watching Rocky get beaten once again on a TV old enough to be in your grandparents’ basement, you decided to close your eyes and let the weed effects take you, with an I have enough time in mind.
You wanted to see what was that magic that made everyone love it.
Leaning on the back of the couch, after many minutes, you started to feel conscious of different things, like the electric sound of the people cheering inside the old TV, the sticky sensation of the dirty fabric of the sofa under your recently shaved legs, and even more, the boy's legs touching yours on each side.
Of course they would be manspreading, they were in an indie/rock/you don’t know what the fuck band, so the way they caged you between their bodies and made you uncomfortable to find their own comfort probably didn’t even cross their minds.
Your eyelids opened when you heard a loud slam come from the movie, startling you, and you decided to watch the ceiling above you, recognizing the little spots from the humidity you had disliked since you stepped into that garage.
Wow, you really disliked, to not say hated, many things.
Just realizing it, you noticed that you disliked that garage from the first time you arrived, you disliked the old green couch that Wonbin made your boyfriend push from three streets down to his house, you disliked the old TV with static noise that your boyfriend and his friends made you watch, and you especially disliked that your boyfriend left you aside for all those things you hated without a doubt.
Why were you even trying it? You asked yourself.
After getting stressed for so many days, you didn’t have the energy to keep blaming yourself for it, and when Rocky had his first date with Adrianna, you laughed with the boys at Rocky’s corniness when he followed her around the ice ring.
Having seen that movie more times with them than necessary, that was one of the few scenes you honestly enjoyed, concentrating on it even when your boyfriend made you mad after he dropped a bomb like ‘’sorry, forgot we had this gig later, so I won’t be able to go to our date’’.
Or perhaps you concentrated because Anton always turned up the volume when that scene came since he saw you liked it too.
Watching them walk the street, you leaned to Wonbin’s side without noticing. His leather jacket felt glue-like against your cheek, but you didn’t mind, and looking at Rocky ramble about his turtles to catch Adrianna’s attention, you laughed when you saw the ugly pink lamp above them that was identical to the lamp Wonbin had put on one of the corners there.
‘’Rocky’s apartment reminds me of here’’ Anton said, referring to Wonbin’s ugly garage.
‘’What are you saying?’’ you interrupted him, ‘’Rocky is the original, Wonbin needs more than old cabinets, leaking pipes and granny lamps to catch him.’’
Wonbin only looked at you and shook his head with a smile, not even trying to defend himself.
When you focused on the movie again instead of the sensation of Wonbin’s leg pushing yours jokingly and his hand resting on your knee like he had done many times, Rocky was cornering her in his entrance, and on any other occasion you would’ve pushed his hand away, but when you saw the ambience of the movie get heavier, you couldn’t focus on anything that wasn’t the kiss about to happen and how cold his hand that previously shared his drink with you felt against your skin.
Wonbin’s hand was trailing a bit higher, still a decent distance from anything too alarming, and you felt something forming in your insides, like a little spark that you kind of liked, so you didn’t stop him.
When Rocky kissed her, you squeezed your legs, trapping Wonbin’s hand between your legs, dangerously high and near your panties.
The kiss was quick but deep, and you felt Wonbin’s hand fitting perfectly between your legs, long fingers and a wide palm, feeling good and making you clench around nothing.
You woke up, you were getting wet with the hand of your boyfriend’s friend between your thighs, and opening them to let it free, you shifted on your place, pulling down your skirt as much as you could.
‘’Everything okay?’’ you heard Anton asking after you had pushed his leg with yours when you freed Wonbin’s hand.
Looking at him with lost eyes, you nodded, trying to brush off what had just happened.
Concentrating on the screen again, you leaned against Anton this time, almost a bit too much, trying to put a little distance between Wonbin and you so his hand didn’t get lost again.
Anton directed his eyes at you when he felt you pressing your chest against his arm, and again, you didn’t mean to, it just felt comfortable to be against him, and you couldn’t think twice about what you were doing when you pressed your chest again.
Liar.
You lied to yourself once again, like when you told yourself Seunghan didn’t mean to make you cry with his jokes, or when he lied saying he wasn’t high so you let him sneak into your room in the middle of the night, or when he tried to make you eat an edible that Anton snatched from your hand before you could taste it.
Suddenly, with that memory, Anton protecting you from a danger you didn’t know, you wanted to get closer to him, and for the first time that night, you felt happy to have chosen such a skimpy outfit that did nothing to shield you from the freezing night.
You just put on what Seunghan liked, what usually caught his attention, because that was your goal, not to survive the air of the winter night, and the big sweater that you tossed to one of Wonbin’s bushes hadn’t helped you avoid your neighbours’ stares, but at least it fooled your mother enough when you left before your father came from work.
Trying to remember the name of the last five presidents to keep you sane (which soon became the name of the last five songs you heard while walking there), you saw the way Wonbin was paying more attention to you on his side than the TV in front of you two, and not being able to pull your eyes away from him and his messy ashy blonde hair, probably as dirty as his garage, still hugging Anton’s arm, your smile got bigger when he moved a string of your hair behind your ear.
"You're high" he affirmed, and you, not confirming it, only closed your eyes to the sensation of his fingertips grazing a little spot behind your ear.
Shit, you murmured inside your mind.
You were getting too wet for your own good, and that wouldn't have been a problem if you were with your boyfriend, he would've immediately noticed the change in your demeanour and would've taken you to the bathroom to give you a quick fuck (not making you cum), helping you endure the need until he could walk you home and waited for your sign so he could climb the tree near your window.
But he wasn't there, and you didn't know what to do to make your cunt stop pulsating around nothing.
Gulping, you moved your eyes to Anton.
Everything you were feeling had to be because of that stupid joint, and he’d know what to do, like he always does.
"Should we take her home?" He asked, noticing the way you were uncomfortable with both pairs of eyes over you, hiding your face on his side out of embarrassment.
"Hell no, her dad is going to shoot us" Wonbin quickly answered.
You laughed at that, the little giggle making them smile too, amused with your sudden happiness, an image of you they weren’t used to, but it was true, your dad would shoot at them if they left his princess with wobbly legs in his doorstep, and he would kill you later too, which was actually kind of upsetting, and probably the reason why you always thought everything twice, my dad is going to kill me if he finds out, so no one should’ve laughed, but you all did.
Still, your imagination made you squeeze your thighs, making you see another way in which they would leave you with said wobbly legs, and feeling a bit of relief from the pressure that was building in your abdomen, you shamelessly repeated the action.
‘’Look at this girl, what do you think you’re doing?’’ Wonbin asked with a grin.
You should’ve stopped, you should’ve listened to that part in your mind that told you that you were acting like a fucking slut and to go home, but you didn’t, and with an exhale, you lied on your back as far as you could, and looking at them, you waited for one of them to do something.
Your exposed skin started to prickle, and a stronger tingle installed between your legs when Wonbin’s hand posed over your knee again.
Even if they didn’t do anything intense, when Anton’s hand gripped your other knee, a mewl left your mouth, calling for them to do something else than just touching that part of you.
‘’Fuck, what should we do?’’ Anton asked, without a grin, licking his lips and a frown on his forehead, ready to eat his meal.
‘’Shit do I know, I just want to touch her’’ Wonbin said.
Anton was relying on the older to say something, and you kind of did too. If he sent you home, you doubted you could continue with your little show, or show your face to them ever again, and you would end up unsatisfied, but at least you would keep a bit of your pride that Seunghan had smashed.
‘’Her nipples are so hard’’ the younger commented, eyes fixed on your perky buds standing under your white top that did nothing to hide them.
They could easily see the outline of them under the thick fabric, making their mouths dry for a taste.
‘’If you open your legs for us, we’ll touch you, but only if you do, we won’t do anything unless you show us what you want’’ Wonbin declared.
Your escape, that was your opportunity to leave, you could stay with your legs closed, or you could stand and walk out, you were high, but not that high, and you had no reason to depend on any of them to go home.
Watching the movie, you inhaled as much air as you could.
You look pretty tonight, you know? with an unclear mind, you heard the dialogue, Rocky saying it to his girl before his fight.
That was your fight now.
‘’How do I look tonight?’’ you let the question out.
You had dressed for Seunghan, an outfit you wouldn’t have worn in your wildest dreams before and that made you feel like a clown walking around, a foreigner on your own skin.
That wasn’t you, and when the boys saw you, they watched you from head to toe before they announced that Seunghan had just left, which felt kind of nice too.
‘’What do you expect me to say? You look gorgeous, but I have to admit it bothers me that you didn’t dress like that to see me’’ Wonbin smiled.
‘’You have no idea how much I love how you look in this skirt, but it makes me crazy to think you had to walk here alone’’ Anton didn’t smile.
You look fine was everything Seunghan would’ve said, not even looking at you.
Both answers felt correct in their way, and not having any other reason to stop yourself anymore, you were single after all, you opened your legs, and being bolder than usual, you lifted the hem of your skirt for them enough to see your underwear.
‘’Shit, my baby must’ve been hurting so much’’ Wonbin teased, pressing his fingers over your clothed cunt and drawing the form of your lips over them.
‘’She looks in so much pain’’ Anton agreed, and his hand went to your tit, pinching one of your nipples like he had been wanting since he saw you cross Wonbin’s door.
Not wearing a bra, he used his thumb and index to play with them, making your mouth fall open with a silent moan.
‘’Don’t be like that’’ your back arched to give Anton better access to your chest, so he touched you better, like you wanted to be touched, ‘’be kind, please’’.
Wonbin closed his eyes and Anton shook his head, both smiling from ear to ear.
‘’Don’t worry baby, you took care of us, now we’ll take care of you’’ Wonbin pushed your panties to the side and slid his middle finger up and down between your wet lips, ‘’She’s dripping so much, I think I can push one inside without problem’’.
‘’Has Seunghan ever made you cum with his fingers?’’ Anton asked.
You didn’t want to answer, it was so private, something between you and your boyfriend (now ex), and they could see in your flushing cheeks and your wavering eyes how you wouldn’t put Seunghan to shame even if he didn’t treat you right, and that was even more adorable for them.
‘’It’s okay princess, you don’t have to answer, tonight you’ll learn how a real orgasm feels like’’ Anton answered himself.
Both of them had turned to you a long time ago, and making you spread more for them, to show everything, they engraved the image of your pussy glistening and the juices that reflected the only light there.
‘’So fucking pretty’’ Wonbin cursed, licking his finger that had just touched you, ‘’as sweet as I imagined’’ he groaned, fingers going to your clit to recollect more of your wetness.
All tender and inviting, Anton’s left hand went from your chest to your pussy, fighting with Wonbin to thumb your clit, until he won, and Wonbin had to feel content with filling your entrance with one of his fingers.
9:10 PM
You looked at the hour, reminding yourself that you had to leave at ten.
‘’I’ll get punished if I don’t get home by ten…’’ you cried when Wonbin added one more finger, pushing them in and then pulling them out until just the tip of his fingers stayed inside.
Anton kept making circles over your clit, repeating Wonbin’s action and licking his fingers before going back to his job.
‘’We’ll walk you home princess, don’t worry’’ Anton secured.
‘’Fuck’’ you moaned when Wonbin increased the pace of his fingers fucking you.
His guitarist's fingers were working you so well, and you never doubted he had a talent when he played songs for you while waiting for your boyfriend to arrive, but to feel the same fingers playing with your insides confirmed his talent even more, and soon your hand went to his wrist, trying to stop him from making you cry.
‘’Too good’’ you cried, forgetting that Anton was also the culprit of that tightness forming on your core, letting his stimulations continue.
‘’I know baby, I know’’ Wonbin smiled, stopping his movements and watching the minor rolling your little bud, making you tremble and tear up, squirming to escape a pleasure you had never felt so intense before.
That didn’t last long, Wonbin couldn’t let himself be overshadowed by another boy, and with your hand still wrapping his wrist, he went back to do scissoring motions inside you.
You didn’t know what name to call, little sobs escaping from you and making them laugh at how pretty you looked even when being and making a mess.
You were leaking over Wonbin’s couch, leaving a big dark spot under you, and if you had been conscious enough, you would’ve stopped them, but you felt such an intense pressure approaching you that you could only concentrate on the way Wonbin’s fingers were opening you so good and how Anton wasn’t drawing circles anymore, roughly moving his hand from one side to the other to make you cum.
He could see it coming, your chest heavily moving up and down while tears pricked your eyes, and he had to show you he was true to his words, unlike Seunghan, so he decided to teach you what a real orgasm felt like.
Clenching around Wonbin’s fingers, Anton flicked your clit while Wonbin rushed his fingers into thrusting harder, making you cum with his digits inside you.
Yes, Anton kept murmuring when he saw your abdomen shaking and felt your pussy quivering under his hand.
With toes curling, legs trembling and eyes rolling, you came over their hands incredibly strong, a little gush dripping over Wonbin’s palm and his couch.
That didn’t stop them, they didn’t care that you were cumming, and they continued until you convulsed and cried for them to please stop.
It wasn’t even 9:25 and they had already given you the best orgasm of your life.
Your body was numb after they stopped, your eyes dropped closed, and the tears didn’t stop rolling down your cheeks, making Anton clean them with his thumb.
‘’Are you okay?’’ he asked you because your tears wouldn’t stop.
‘’Yes, sorry, too good’’ was the only coherent sentence that you could form.
Looking bright, Wonbin left a quick kiss on your lips, wrapping your throat with his hand to maintain you in your position for him.
Anton, wanting one too, did the same thing, with his hand on your chest instead.
Taking turns, they stole the little air you tried to retrieve, making you more dizzy with their mouths than with the weed you had smoked not long ago and the beer Wonbin had given to you so lovingly.
Your body was warm, and you weren’t sure exactly what you wanted, but your nipples were in pain, needing more than the delicate friction of Anton’s fingers over your top, and whining, you wanted them to touch you like they had just done, or even more.
‘’One more?’’ Anton asked when he saw you trying to close your legs in your place, trying to find any kind of relief.
‘’Yes, please’’ you said, and he, feeling proud of his good girl, gave your pussy a soft smack, telling you to open your legs more for him.
‘’We can give you something better than fingers’’ Wonbin said, making you turn to him, and knowing what he was referring to, you nodded.
You didn’t need to think things too much, you wanted to feel good, you were just abandoned, and if they were two boys willing to give you a good time for a night, why would you stop now?
‘’But not today’’ Wonbin continued, making you let a painful noise out.
‘’Why?’’ you asked sad.
‘’We’ve been waiting so much for you, your first time with us is not going to be this way’’ Anton answered.
You were too deep in a haze to understand him, and confused, you could only blink when you heard him.
Because they were kissing you just seconds ago, they were leaning towards you, and each of them, seeing you under them from their own side, blocked the TV and the big clock from your sight.
‘’But I want to cum’’ you cried, not caring about anything else and interrupting them from continuing with their reasons to not fuck you.
‘’That’s okay baby, all we are saying is that we won’t fuck you tonight’’ Wonbin laughed at your request, ‘’we’ll definitely make you cum one more time, we can’t let our girl go home in pain, but you need to come back in your senses if you want us to fuck you’’ he explained.
‘’Our girl’’ Anton caressed your cheek while Wonbin trailed down his hand from your neck to between your breasts.
That sentence seemed too dreamy for him, having waited so long to say it, not daring himself to voice it when you weren’t really his.
‘’Your girl?’’ you asked.
‘’Our girl’’ Wonbin confirmed.
They always hated the way Seunghan treated you, such a cute little thing like you should always be treated like a precious doll, with care, and spoiled with the best things.
Sadly, the lucky bastard had found you before them, and they could only see you from afar, everything, from the friendship with Seunghan to your heart eyes directed at him, stopping them.
Anton was always the one putting your drinks on Wonbin’s shopping car, and the last hated paying for unnecessary shit, judging deep inside any coloured can that he saw in the same aisle of his beers, yet he let the youngest sneak the box with the memory of your smile when you opened his fridge and found what you liked.
I’m not her boyfriend, Anton said in his mind when he ran to grab your fanta grape.
I’m not her boyfriend, Wonbin reminded himself when he tapped his card.
But now you were their girl, and they would treat you like you deserved.
Not believing what you just heard, you felt so loved with their eyes over you and his hands roaming your body that you slid down on the couch, making your cunt easier for them to access, and with some difficulty you placed your hand over your pelvis, going down a bit more to push your folds apart and expose your entrance, presenting them your little hole clenching around nothing.
‘’Your girl’’ you exhaled, weak against their care.
Anton was faster than Wonbin, his hand quickly finding your pussy and cupping it to not let the oldest fuck you with his fingers again, pushing his own inside you this time.
The other, accepting his loss, lifted your top to let your breasts free, which bounced with the fabric pulling them up and then letting them fall down naked.
Your pretty nipples begged for them to give them attention, all hard and standing since you arrived thanks to the chilly air that had impacted you on your way there.
‘’Been dying for a taste’’ Wonbin admitted, letting Anton take his place with his fingers inside you and launching his tongue to lick your bud.
His velvet tongue felt amazing on your smooth skin, making you drip more over Anton’s digits.
Anton’s fingers were a lot longer than Wonbin’s, and he easily grazed a certain spot that made you gasp and shake your head at how intense it felt, receiving more of your leaking juices as a response when he pushed it again.
‘’Too much?’’ he asked, and it was too much, but you denied it.
Pulling away, he slowly went back in, trying to make you used to him and the size of his fingers.
‘’She wants more’’ Wonbin said, caressing your cheek and obliging you to let the lip you hadn’t realized you were biting hard, free. ‘’Ain’t I right?’’ he wanted you to answer.
‘’Yes,’’ you sighed.
Gritting his teeth, Anton did the same action, but quicker this time, pulling out his fingers and pushing them back in harder and faster, making you moan and nod at the thrusts.
‘’Aw she likes it’’ Wonbin commented, hand cupping your jaw and leaving a soft kiss on your cheek while his other hand stayed playing with the nipple he was previously licking.
Anton dragged his fingers in and out, liking the vision of you frowning and moaning under him, but even more, how you were receiving more attention than what you needed from Wonbin’s part.
That was what you deserved, undivided attention and care from them, to drown in pleasure and forget about everything that wasn’t worth your time.
Only they were worth your time.
Lost in the sensation of your cunt taking his fingers so well, Anton kept pounding into you, slowly at times, to then fuck you harder and faster until you cried and tried to get away from his hand.
Wonbin’s hand that fingered you just minutes ago moved to your tummy, pressing his palm to help you get closer to your orgasm while his nose nuzzled behind your ear and his breath hit your cheek.
‘’She’s so tight’’ Anton commented, wrists almost completely stopping and thumb brushing your clit.
‘’I know, she’ll take us so good later’’ Wonbin almost groaned.
You cried when you heard that, they were fucking you so good only with their fingers, you couldn’t even imagine how good their cocks would make you feel. You squirmed in your place, trying to close your legs to stop you from becoming so sensitive, not getting far with the boy's hands gripping your thighs and maintaining you in your position for them.
‘’You wanted to cum’’ Wonbin reminded you.
‘’Yes, I’m sorry’’ you said, biting your lip again and letting yourself be fucked by Anton’s fingers.
Anton didn’t hurry, gently moving the two fingers he had inside you in scissoring motions this time, he felt your warm and wet walls trap him.
‘’She’s going to cum’’ Wonbin said, recognizing your same expression from before, the way your chest was agitated and your body convulsing.
‘’Oh princess, cum for me’’ Anton demanded, needing to see your orgasm leaking down his hand just like you did for Wonbin.
Ruthlessly moving in and out his wrist, he enjoyed your face contorting for him and your pussy fluttering, and a heavier stream was released, making another mess over Wonbin’s couch and his hand.
You couldn’t feel your body anymore, and you had no idea at what time or how you got home, but when you woke up you were in your room with clean clothes and as relaxed as never.
Soon you were filled with anxiety, scared of how you had arrived and what would your parents say. You didn’t dare to go out of your room, and looking at the hour, you felt your nerves fall when you saw that your father had already left for work and your mother probably had gone out to do some shopping like she usually did that day.
You had no messages from any of them saying that they would talk to you later, and it was already passed midday, so you tried to think that things were probably all okay. However, you didn’t expect to see a message from Anton and Wonbin asking how you felt.
Come see us later, Wonbin had added.
What the hell had been that the day before? You stared at your wall for minutes until you decided that you wouldn’t know unless you asked it yourself.
Later that day, Sungchan opened the door for you when you arrived, his face pale at seeing you there.
You didn’t know who to ask for, so you timidly smiled at him and waited for him to simply let you in.
‘’Let her in’’ Wonbin said when he saw you, so Sungchan had no option but to let you.
Smiling, Wonbin tilted his head to where his kitchen connected with his garage, and you nodded understanding him, walking there with insecure steps.
‘’What the hell do you think you’re doing?’’ you heard Sungchan ask Wonbin in a whisper.
‘’You don’t care’’ Wonbin answered, not in a whisper.
Entering the garage, Wonbin’s couch was still there, covered only by a flannel where you dripped down, and suddenly an embarrassing memory came back to you in a flashback.
‘’I’m so sorry’’ you had apologized when the three of you observed the big spots you had left with your orgasms.
‘’It’s okay’’ Wonbin laughed, patting your back to console you.
‘’That’s kind of hot’’ Anton added, eyes focused on the way it showed perfectly how good they had treated you.
Now Anton was sitting on a single new couch that stuck out in the middle of the well-known garage, immediately smiling when he saw you.
There was a new face too, a girl sitting in the corner of the couch that reminded you of your old you, silent and feigning a smile, like when you waited for Seunghan to come back when he left you in painful silence with his friends the first days.
You walked to Anton, still wary, but more confident after he seemed happy to see you there.
‘’Hey,’’ Anton said, taking your hand to play with the tips of your fingers, to then pull you closer and make you sit on his lap.
His arms wrapped your waist perfectly, letting a greeting kiss behind your ear that made you giggle, making you feel comfortable on your new seat.
You felt the eyes of the new girl staring at you, and not wanting to be rude anymore, you talked.
‘’Hi,’’ you finally addressed the girl in the room when Anton rested his chin on your shoulder, closing his eyes and inhaling the aroma of your shampoo like he had been dreaming for months, ‘’Sorry’’ you continued, presenting yourself.
The girl denied with a cute smile, telling you that it was okay, and presenting herself as Seunghan’s new girlfriend.
‘’Seunghan’s girlfriend…’’ you repeated. She was cute, collected, calm, like you were when he met you.
‘’Yes, we just started seeing each other this month, how long have you been together?’’ she asked you, surely referring to you and Anton like a couple.
‘’Oh, it hasn’t been long’’ Anton answered for you.
A second later Sohee walked in, looking puzzled out for seeing you there, and especially, over Anton’s lap.
Almost immediately the rest of the boys came to the garage, all except Wonbin, becoming silent at the sight in front of them. Seunghan, who was more astonished than the others, froze at the entrance without understanding what he was looking at, his new girlfriend in the same room with his ex-girlfriend sitting over his bandmate’s lap.
Wonbin was the one who got him out of his confused state, pushing him to the side so he could cross the room to meet you, and sitting on the arm of the small new couch, he gave you a soft kiss on the lips, surprising everyone there, including you.
‘’We hope you all give us your blessings’’ Wonbin smiled, posing his cheek next to yours while Anton continued with his arms around your waist and his face hidden on your neck.
tangentwithtanner
stormborns
