Jungkook glanced around, recalling how every room and corridor they had passed through seemed inhabited, no other sign of life presenting itself or no sound coming from something else than the pair. “Okay, so, you might want to sit down for this. I’ve seen too many people faint in my lab, and that’s just dangerous.” Jungkook pulled the stool that Jimin slid towards him underneath himself, settling on it, resting an elbow on an empty spot of the counter.
Jimin took a deep breath, pushing his glasses up. “I succeeded in human cloning, and there are five clones of myself that live in a deeper part of this facility.”
Words: 36890, Chapters: 5/5, Language: English
Fandoms: 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Categories: M/M
Characters: Jeon Jungkook, Park Jimin (BTS)
Relationships: Jeon Jungkook & Park Jimin, Jeon Jungkook/Park Jimin
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Clones, Explicit Sexual Content, Explicit Language, Self-cest, Mind Games, Manipulation, Drunk Sex, Mildly Dubious Consent, Porn With Plot, Tension
genre: smut, fluff-ish, neighbours au, friends with benefits
ch. summary: A harmless communication mishap leads to something interesting.
wc: 8.1k
ch. warnings: switch San, switch reader, brat Wooyoung, threesome, edging, blow job, hand job, body worship, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, sort of brat taming w/ spanking + pain kink (@ reader), hairpulling (@ Wooyoung), overstimulation, vaginal fingering / sex, cunnilingus, cumshots (on chest, ass + face), cum eating, spitroast, squirting, condomless sex with IUD, implied aftercare, pet names for reader (‘baby’ and ‘good girl’), a lot of improv but by now i hope it’s been well-established enough that they have massively discussed their limits and preferences off-screen
additional note: San is a whiny boi but about halfway he switches to hard dom mode; consider this a warning for potential whiplash lol
a/n: features a soft-bodied, aromantic reader who uses she/her pronouns.
That is the nature your current situation, after you had described your fantasy to San and Wooyoung over the phone.
Truly, feverishly inevitable.
San watches you with aloof detachment, like the sight of you on your knees in front of him is nothing of particular note. Only a hint of interest gleams in his dark eyes as he sits on the edge of his bed, leaned back on one hand with legs spread.
“Come, baby, show me what you can do.” San pats his inner thigh in invitation, raising an eyebrow in challenge. “Have at it.”
He’s only wearing his grey sweatpants; and even while soft, his sheer girth hints at an outline through the fabric. You will never understand the science behind how such a basic piece of clothing can be so unreasonably powerful — especially on a guy like San.
Thankfully, your complete lack of clothes has somewhat evened the playing field. San is not subtle with his glances down at Wooyoung’s hands running across your naked body, until they settle to squeeze at your breasts. San’s eyes drift from your lips to your pert nipples, stiffening under Wooyoung’s touch.
You whine as Wooyoung plays with your tits, arching into his eager hands while your ass presses into his boxer shorts. “Fuck, just look at you,” he croons from behind you, his breath hot on your shoulder. “So ready to get wrecked by our cocks.”
“Don’t distract her, Woo,” San says, reaching down to cup your chin. With a firm touch, he sets your attention back to the task at hand.
“’M not distracting her,” Wooyoung mumbles, nipping at the column of your neck — and very much distracting you with the way his fingers pluck at your nipples. “Just making her feel good.”
(That last part is true, at least.)
Wooyoung’s touch tempts you to melt back into him, to let him play with you to his heart’s content while San is all but forgotten — but San’s burning eyes sway you to stay on task.
You did talk a big game about how badly you wanted to suck him off; it’s time to put your money where your mouth is. (Or put your mouth where his dick is, whichever works.)
“There you go,” San sighs when you palm his crotch. His hand still rests on your neck, thumb hooked around your throat; there is no pressure, but even just the warmth of San’s large palm sends small prickles of pleasure through your skin. “Don’t get shy on me now, baby. Go and take what you’re here for.”
You hum at San’s encouragement, pressing a trail of feather-light kisses up his stomach. Wooyoung’s mouth on your shoulder is far less light, sucking wet patches into your skin as he lazily ruts into your ass. Still distracting you, but somehow you manage to stay focused on San.
Your nails graze across the faint definition of his abs, and San clenches his stomach with a soft hiss; he is sensitive. A jolt of delight sparks between your thighs at the discovery, and your tongue darts out to chase the spasms in his abdomen. San lets out a low groan, and his fingers briefly twitch at your throat before he relaxes again. Coyly, you glance up to meet San’s eyes and, with the same gentle pressure that he has on your neck, you squeeze his hardening cock through his sweats.
San has to bite his lip to suppress a shudder as his blood rushes downward, but his smile curves sharply at your persistent teasing. “What’s this?” he says, his thumb lightly pressing down on your throat in warning. “Are you going to be trouble today?”
“No, Sannie,” you lie, slightly breathless — because you do feel like a bit of trouble. “I’ll be good to you.”
Something about the way his muscles clench underneath your soft caresses has you in an experimental mood. To tease him, just to see how long he will let you. How long before he reaches the end of his patience and stops indulging you? How long before he shoves his cock down your throat and fucks your face until you can’t taste anything but him for days to come?
You hear a faint chuckle from Wooyoung, like he senses your resolve. A brat would know, you suppose. He lightly bites at your collarbone, a clear encouragement.
However, San simply watches you; his expression is intense, but with honest curiosity in his dark eyes. “Then go have fun, hm,” he tells you, guiding you forward with a gentle hold. “Been waiting to find out what that sweet mouth can do.”
But you resist San’s pull, shaking your head. “I will show you — once these are gone,” you say petulantly, tugging at his sweatpants. “Off, mister.”
San’s eyebrows rise in surprise at your tone, but then he sinks into a lazy smile. “Ah, not trouble today,” he chuckles. “Bossy. Sure, I can work with that.”
Wooyoung rolls his eyes in exasperation, but you are too distracted by San stripping down to notice, or to realise why. You do notice when Wooyoung shifts away, and you whine at the loss of his warmth against your back.
Wooyoung just tuts and taps a finger on your bottom lip with a grin, then shucks off his own boxers — but he shifts to sit next to you, resting his head against San’s bare knee as he watches intently. There is something debauched about Wooyoung like this; his cheek pressed against San’s thigh while he slowly jerks himself off, eyes glittering. The curve of his lips is made of open amusement and blatant hunger, eager to see where you take this next.
“Hey, what do you think you’re doing, Woo?” San asks, a sharpness edging into his voice. “Slacking off?”
Wooyoung glances up at him, grin gone in an instant to be replaced by big, innocent eyes. “You said not to distract her, right?” he pouts. “Just doing what I’m told.”
San’s eyes narrow at Wooyoung’s malicious compliance, but any rebuttal is swallowed by a deep groan when you finally touch him directly; no barrier of fabric between your palm and his aching cock.
His size is no surprise, of course. A sharp current throbs through your cunt, clenching with vivid memories of how he stretched you open with brutal slams of his hips, the burn addictive and overwhelming. How the light curve of him hits so deep inside you, stuffing you full with every rough thrust.
Your mouth waters as you contemplate how your throat will compare, and you freely let the spit dribble down from your lips, adding to the glistening coat of precum.
San’s breath stutters when you wrap your fingers around him, testing the heavy weight of him in your palm before you lean in for an airy kitten lick across his slit, catching a thick bead of his leaking arousal on your tongue.
He lets out a strained groan, cursing under his breath when you exhale a soft puff of breath across his flushed tip, your hand working him to full hardness with an easy, slow slide. “Fuck,” he sighs when your lips finally press against him, engulfing his cockhead with the wet heat of your mouth. “Feels so good, baby… Been waiting to have those pretty lips on my cock for so long…”
Instantly, you pull those pretty lips right off of him.
San’s hips jerk forward with a grunt, his grip on the sheets tightening. Indulgently, you swipe your tongue across your bottom lip to catch the taste of him, then innocently blink up — and you inhale a sharp breath at the state of San.
Not what you expected, not a dark stare of promised retribution; instead San’s eyes are glazed over, his back arching as his hips tilt to seek your mouth out again. Sparks of electricity prickle across your skin at his needy pout, even just a light denial causing a gorgeous glow of heat across his face. It’s the polar opposite of your intended result; but he takes your breath away all the same.
You lean in again — but ignore his flushed cock to nip at the thick muscle of his inner thigh, enamoured with a small cluster of three moles that you find there in a crooked line. San draws a shuddering breath as you lavish each one with attention. He squirms at your open-mouthed kisses, moans at the flick of your tongue against his thigh.
“Nghh, f-fuck…” he grates out, throwing his head back when your hand ghosts over his leaking cock; only for you to move past him and graze your nails across his other thigh. San’s hips cant forward, his fingers digging ever deeper into the bed, until you think he might tear a hole in the sheets.
“Oh baby, but Sannie likes that,” Wooyoung croons, his free hand squeezing at your knee. “Look how sensitive he is. All those big muscles, but just a nibble is enough to make him crumble. Fuck, he loves getting teased. Would let you drive him to the brink for as long as you please.”
A vague awareness enters your mind that Wooyoung is trying to communicate something; clearly, your plan to to provoke San is going a little sideways. But can you really object to the way he has blissfully surrendered himself to your whims? His chest heaves as he pulls hard breaths into his lungs, grunting at every mark you leave on his skin, his lips getting puffy from how he bites at them.
No, San makes it harder and harder to care about your original resolve, especially when he lets out a deep, guttural moan as your mouth sinks back down on him. His fingers claw at the bed like it’s the gate barring him from heaven, and only you hold the key.
Wooyoung shakes his head with a chuckle and stops his interjections. Instead he just palms himself a little faster, treating himself to the sight of your throat becoming acquainted with his boyfriend’s dick.
You take it slow; you have to, regardless of your intentions to drive San up the wall.
Honestly, you’d felt a twinge of impatience when San suggested to start with just him before Wooyoung got too involved. But although you knew he’d be a lot to take in, now you feel it; and there is something to be said for the chance to let your jaw and throat relax around San without Wooyoung jackhammering into you from the other end.
Your eyes flutter shut, moaning at the feel of San’s velvet heat between your lips, the weight of him, the salty taste of precum on your tongue. San groans as you gradually take him further, sucking at the tip between every few passes of him inside you inside your mouth.
Soon he nudges at your throat, and you take deep, deliberate breaths through your nose to soothe your gag reflex away. Wooyoung makes a tight sound when you start to push yourself harder, convulsing around San’s leaking cock.
“Takes some getting used to, doesn’t he?” Wooyoung rasps, his fingers dancing up your thigh. “But fuck if he isn’t worth it. Still think you can handle us both? You better don’t think I’ll take it easy on you.” He chuckles roughly. His hand delves further, teasing you like you teased San earlier; nothing but light, ticklish brushes against your needy cunt, never a solid touch. “Gonna fuck you just how you deserve, I’ll bury San’s cock deeper into your throat with every thrust. That’s what you want, right? Get your face fucked by that big fat cock until he spills it all on your hungry tongue.”
“F-fuck, Woo—” San hisses. His hips jerk forward, cock prodding against the back of your throat. “You got such a fucking mouth on you, ahh…”
Wooyoung’s fingers press down a little firmer, finding your clit. “Actually, it’s her who has a mouth on you,” Wooyoung grins, rubbing toe-curling circles into you. “Small mistake; but it’s alright, I know you’re a little slow tonight.”
“Oi,” San starts, but his warning look is immediately undercut by a pitiful, cracked whine when you cup his balls to softly massage them, right as you sink fully down on his cock, nose touching his pelvis. Your throat spasms around him, eyes tearing up, light-headed on his strained, pitchy moans.
Wooyoung chuckles. “Don’t worry about it, Sannie. She’s enjoying herself either way.”
You moan shamelessly in agreement, spurred on by Wooyoung’s thumb on your clit and San’s slow ruination by your hand; his hips rocking into your mouth with shaky restraint.
“Hmmf, shit, g-getting real close, baby,” San groans haggardly when you swallow around him. “Shouldn’t, mhh, shouldn’t Wooyoung—”
“I think she likes me just fine, right where I am now,” Wooyoung grins, toying with your clit between thumb and forefinger. He proves his growing familiarity with your body, stirring a sharp heat that licks at your cunt with each brush of his fingers.
San whimpers as your moans vibrate through him, every muscle in his body tightly drawn. “S-seriously, I’m— I’m gonna cum if you keep this up, baby, fuck…”
And you do keep it up, just for a moment longer; until San’s breath stutters, his arms trembling, skin flushed with a sheen of sweat. He makes a pained, strangled noise when you abruptly pull away, and his hips try to chase you but your firm hand eases them back. You run your fingers soothingly across San’s thigh while he catches his breath, though you can’t resist a soft kiss on the glistening tip of his cock, twitching under your lips.
San watches you in a daze, foggy pleasure drawn across his eyes, while Wooyoung takes this opportunity to move closer. Your cunt is temporarily abandoned as Wooyoung sits next to you on his knees, pressing his shoulders against yours. He grabs your hand to wrap it around his cock, and you catch on immediately, moving with quick firm strokes while his fingers slide back home between your thighs.
You moan and lean into Wooyoung to suck at that mole on his bottom lip, leading into a bitey kiss, sloppy and playful and increasingly desperate. Wooyoung grins against your mouth as he feels and hears how you gradually begin to become undone.
“Can I cum?” he murmurs, a quiver in his voice that betrays he’s well aware of the power he’s putting in your hands. “Now that’d rile sweet San up, wouldn’t it…”
You let your eyes drift up and down, from Wooyoung’s kiss-swollen lips, to his heaving chest, down to his weeping cock, then over to San. He is trying to pin Wooyoung with a dark look, but his eyes are still hazy, only slowly recovering from how you denied him. You bite your lip, temptation pulling at you.
“You can — if you help me out,” you hum at Wooyoung, and press your lips against his once again. Wooyoung groans happily, eagerly welcoming your tongue delving into his mouth.
Blindly you reach for San’s cock, drinking in his beautiful whine when your fingers wrap around him again. You tease Wooyoung by pulling back just slightly, forcing him to follow, and then another time, and again, until your lips brush up against the purpled, weeping tip of San’s dick.
Wooyoung moans as he realises what you have in mind, a wicked smile drawing across his face. “Fuck, I do like the way you think,” he chuckles hoarsely, flicking his tongue against San’s cock. “You got some real trouble hidden in that brain after all.”
With that, he swoops back in for another messy kiss, wet and noisy as he alternates licking into your mouth with suckling at San’s leaking slit — but never forgetting about you, his fingers nudging you closer and closer to your own finish. Your tongues glide against each other and against San’s cockhead, lost in a frenzy as you gasp and moan into Wooyoung. The taste of his mouth and San’s precum mingles in a salty tang, and the sharp pleasure inside you coils ever tighter as you melt into the lewd heat of making out and giving head.
If you thought San’s moans were desperate before, now you know better.
Like kindling to the fire, his pained whines stoke the blazing heat in your core even further, and you rock frantically into Wooyoung’s hand, chasing the high that you fully intend to withhold from San. Wooyoung is close himself, groaning with every twist of your hand.
San’s body trembles at the joint onslaught of you and Wooyoung, until his elbows buckle and his wide shoulders slam back against the bed. His back arches, hips bucking upward so hard he almost wrenches himself from your firm grip around the base of his cock. Desperately, he grasps at you and Wooyoung with weak, shaky fingers, unable to get a hold.
“C’mon, play fair, baby,” San gasps. “H-him, but not me? That’s— hmmf! F-fuck, ahh…”
With a helpless moan, he writhes on the bed; able to feel it when Wooyoung finds that exact right angle on your clit, your noisy mewls vibrating through his throbbing cock, into his every nerve-ending. You’re not even teasing him anymore right now, every moan involuntarily ripped from your lips by Wooyoung’s deft fingers.
San groans as your hand squeezes tighter around him, twitching between your fingers — but your grip falls away entirely as Wooyoung forcibly wrenches an orgasm from your soaked cunt, your thighs shaking, and San gasps for ragged breaths as he is left tethering at the edge yet again.
“There you go, doesn’t that feel good,” Wooyoung coos at you, pecking at the corner of your mouth as you tremble and squirm against him. He rubs slow circles around your clit, grin widening as you jolt in his hold with every lingering pulse that tears through you. “Fuck, you’re dripping on my fingers, can’t wait to fuck that pretty pussy again. So wet…”
But then Wooyoung hisses, cursing under his breath when your hand picks up speed to take him down with you. To give him everything you won’t give San.
“H-hmm—! Little tighter there, baby, ngh fuck, that’s it that’s it, ah, ahhh…” He cums with thick spurts, and you moan contently as he spills most of it on your chest, just as you aimed for. His seed slowly dribbles down your sternum and clings onto the swell of your breasts, rapidly cooling on your skin, and Wooyoung lets out a raspy moan at the sight.
As if on instinct, he leans in to lap himself right off of you, but you put a sticky hand on his chest to hold him back. “Not yet, Woo,” you grin tiredly, nudging your chin at San.
The man in question has managed to prop himself up on his elbows. His face is contorted with pleasure and pain, bliss and envy fighting it out on his wrecked, handsome features as he stares at your cum-stained tits with heavy-lidded eyes.
“F-fuck, you look so hot like that, baby…” he groans lowly, and the praise sings so hotly through your veins that you almost take pity on him. But instead, you press a cruelly sweet kiss on his inner thigh, then slowly drag your tongue up the underside of his aching cock.
You don’t even need to take him into your mouth to make him fall apart.
San’s chest heaves as he moans, getting noisier with every teasing swipe of your tongue against his slit. Every harsh inhale of breath comes back out as whimpers and desperate pleas. “More, fuck, want more,” he whines. “J-just let me cum, baby, I’ll be ready again by the time Wooyoung gets it back up to fuck your sweet cunt, fuck, need m-more, hmmf—”
Meanwhile, you allow Wooyoung to finally clean you up, now that San has gotten a good look. He hungrily sucks at your tits, lapping up his own sticky juices with his hot mouth. His eager tongue lavishes at your skin while San grows less and less coherent in his babbling.
You can’t even tell if San is begging or demanding at this point, but it makes no difference. You gently suck at the tip, flicking your tongue as his hoarse voice melts into nothing but slurred curses and calls of your name, until you can discern nothing at all. And that, is when you pull away again.
You clench at San’s strangled sob, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears as he stares at you; something between heedless worship and sheer desperation shining in his gaze. Sweat glistens on his skin, muscles twitching as his body is forced to accept yet another denial.
He recovers slowly while Wooyoung helps you up from your knees, and then he shifts San a little further onto the bed so you can settle comfortably in his lap. San draws hard breaths, swallowing thickly as your stomach brushes against his hypersensitive cock.
“Fuck, San, that was hot,” Wooyoung purrs at him, propping himself up on his elbow as he lays next to his boyfriend on the bed. He gently pushes San’s sweaty hair off of his forehead, and presses a kiss there. “Don’t get to see you like that too often. Did so well for us, so fucking hot.”
San sluggishly nods his head, the unfocused haze lifting from his eyes at Wooyoung’s praise. He sighs contently when you run a soothing hand over his shoulder. “You okay?” you ask gently, giving his upper arm a soft squeeze.
He hums, gradually inching away from that sharp edge where you had left him. His mind clears up, and he blinks up at you as his lips curve into a wide, bright and breathless smile.
“That… that was unexpected,” he says with a light laugh. “Are you trying to kill me, baby? Fuck.”
“I was trying to get you riled up so you’d fuck my face,” you chuckle. “But I’m not complaining, that was fun.” You never even dreamed of pushing him like this, pulling such fucking tasty noises out of him — nor would you have guessed that he’d even let you.
San’s eyes widen in belated realisation. “Wait, you were trying to—? But you said—”
“She lied, Sannie,” Wooyoung interrupts, giggling. “And you, you sweet oblivious fool, believed her so much it derailed all our plans for the evening.”
You pout a little, just for show. “I mean, teasing like that usually works. Wasn’t expecting him to just go along with it all.”
Wooyoung grins. “Bad luck, baby. San here fucking loves a nice edging.”
San pushes himself up, draping one arm lightly around your waist. “Shit, sorry about that,” he says, but he’s smiling through his apology, a pleased dimple poking at his cheek. “Just felt too good, I didn’t even think about it. You should’ve said something!”
He cups your face, brushing his thumb across your cheekbone. Something glitters in his eyes, but he pulls you into a kiss before you can place what it is. No, you can’t do anything but moan against his lips, searing against yours with startling heat.
You clutch onto San’s shoulders, melting into him as he sucks on your bottom lip, interchanged with gentle bites. Then his mouth slots fully over yours again, his tongue plying your lips apart. Wooyoung kisses a wet trail up San’s neck, lingering at his ear while San’s tongue glides against yours with infectious hunger. You moan against him when Wooyoung switches to you, mouthing at your throat with grazing nips of his teeth.
It’s not long before your hips roll into San’s lap, your leaking arousal smearing against his heated skin. You quickly find an angle at which your clit catches against his cock, too wired to remember he’s been edged thrice and might be too sensitive. It jolts back into your memory when San’s fingers bury into the soft meat of your waist, holding you still with an iron grip.
“No, baby,” he murmurs into your ear — but there is something different in his voice, something dangerous, his low rasp like a warning. “Getting yourself off by grinding on my cock? I didn’t think so.”
You pull away, blinking in confusion at the sudden shift in San’s demeanour — and your heart jolts in surprise at the sharpened, dark look in his eyes.
“So you lied to me, hm?” he says, raising an eyebrow.
Oh. Oh.
Your heart jolts again, this time in excitement. You wiggle against his grasp, a thrill buzzing through you when his hold tightens. “Made you feel good, didn’t I?” you pout at him, running your hands across his chest, up over his shoulders to loop around his neck. “If anything, you should be thanking— ahh!”
A sudden, sharp pain sears through your ass, and you cry out at the force of impact. Your head falls into the crook of San’s shoulder, and it’s not until after the fact, while San is rubbing his hand over the sting in your ass, that you realise what happened.
“San…” you whine, pushing back into the palm of his hand. “Don’t be mean, just wanted you to fuck my mouth…”
“‘Mean’?” San rasps. He pats your ass with soft smacks of his hand, warming the skin, but it’s not soothing; it is a promise. He is not done with you yet. “You think this is me being mean, baby?” He chuckles, the low sound raising goosebumps on the back of your neck, and you burrow a little deeper against his shoulder.
Wooyoung watches with a wide grin, wholeheartedly enjoying the show. “See, those are San’s buttons you gotta press,” he whispers in your ear. “Mouthing off works without fail. You learn quick.” Wooyoung nibbles at the shell of your ear, his hand drifting up and down your thigh — but never too close to your cunt. Wooyoung knows better than to get between San and a punishment.
“Baby, look at me,” San says, a stony edge to his voice.
You only moan against his shoulder in response, and give your hips an experimental wiggle now that San is only holding onto you with one hand. He has no patience for it.
“Look at me.” San reminds you exactly why he only has one hand on your waist, the other landing a sharp hit on your ass. The sting of it sings through you, straight into your core.
You moan louder, and a second spank follows rapidly, the slight increase in force making you gasp and clutch tighter onto San. Slowly the pain disperses, leaving a faint ache that feeds into the throbbing of your neglected cunt. San’s cock presses against your folds, but you cannot get friction — and you almost forget all about San’s command until his palm connects with your cheek a third time with a resounding smack.
You cry out, trembling in his hold, and shakily lift your head to meet his eyes.
San is still a little flushed from earlier, his dark hair ruffled and redness tinging his cheeks. He would look cute, if not for the storm brewing behind his eyes; a storm that you deliberately sailed right into, wide-eyed and severely underestimating the tempestuous force that awaited you. Now? Now it is sink or swim.
“So,” he says coolly, “how are you making it up to me?”
He gives you an unimpressed look, like he already knows that nothing you suggest could ever be enough to appease him.
You falter on an answer; your brain is frazzled already, struggling to comprehend this San is the same whiny mess who was writhing in desperation earlier. And the sight of Wooyoung certainly is not helping, his arm draped across San’s shoulders as he hungrily sucks at San’s collarbone, who barely seems to even notice, too focused on you.
“C-could make you cum…” you offer, trailing your hand down his chest and stomach to reach for his cock.
A fresh burst of pain blooms against your sore cheek.
San scoffs as you whine, your hips bucking so hard he has to use both hands again to keep you still. His fingers dig into the curve of your tender ass, drawing another whine.
“Too little too late for that, baby,” he says. “You can’t, that’s what got you into this mess in the first place. Why should I let you have the pleasure now?” He cocks his head, taking in your desperate state with thoughtful consideration. “Now, since you edged me three times… I think it’s only fair if we settle the score. Add one more just for good measure, to let the lesson sink in proper.”
“O-one more?” you say in disbelief — and almost anticipate the flat of his hand connecting with your rear. You swear you can feel capillaries burst on impact, a raw heat glowing from your skin. San runs his hand over it, a slow, dangerous smile spreading on his lips.
“Yeah, one more. Three as payback, one for lying to me.”
“Oh come on,” you protest, a kneejerk reaction of annoyance sparking to life. “The lie wasn’t that big of a dea—”
Okay, this time you really should’ve seen the spank coming. You whimper, slumping forward against San’s chest as the flare of pain passes. Your cunt is drooling.
“It’s as big a deal as I make of it, understood?” San says, his hand now inching inward. You’re shaky with anticipation and trepidation, knowing what is waiting for you. “Besides, don’t pretend you didn’t beg for this. If you want to be a brat so bad, you’ll get fucking treated like one.”
You let out a shuddery moan, putty in San’s hands as he shifts you slightly so you’re not pressed up right against his dick. It also gives him better access to your cunt, and you gasp tightly when two of his thick fingers slide right inside, meeting only minimal resistance from how worked up you already are — and the earlier orgasm doesn’t hurt, either.
“Fuck, this won’t take long, I can tell,” San chuckles, thoroughly enjoying the wet squelch of his fingers being swallowed up by your sopping cunt. “Look at her, Woo. She won’t last a minute, don’t you think?”
Wooyoung detaches his mouth from San’s shoulder, leaving a plethora of bruises behind. He hesitates for a moment, not entirely sure where he stands with San right now, but shrugs off his doubt. He purses his lips as he takes a look at you, rubbing his chin like you’re some scientific curiosity to be studied.
“Hm. She can take another finger,” Wooyoung says, almost dismissively.
You shudder with a low whine as San immediately tests Wooyoung’s assertion. Your cunt sucks him in, greedily, and your breath turns pitchy when he curls his fingers. It does not take long before San presses against your g-spot, and he makes a content noise as you squirm in his lap.
“Close already…” San groans. “Always so fucking responsive to us. Could be treating you so well if you’d behaved, fuck…”
“P-please, Sannie. Need you, need you so bad, please,” you whimper, grasping at his shoulder. You cup his cheek, trying to bring San in for a desperate kiss but he does not budge, his eyes pinned on how you steadily leak onto his hand, your thighs quivering.
He is unfeeling to your pleas, to your moans, to the way you writhe against him. Pressure builds fast, heat flooding your senses with every stroke of his fingertips. You whine pitifully, grabbing at San’s arm as he drags you to the very brink — then tears his fingers away to leave you hanging right there, just as promised.
You sob brokenly as your body’s demand for a release is denied, the cresting waves slowly draining away in the sudden emptiness of your cunt.
San smiles slowly at the sight of you, using his glistening fingers to tip up your chin. His lips ghost against yours, breath hot on your skin. “That’s one,” he whispers hoarsely.
“S-Sannie, please,” you beg again. A tactic born from desperation; it has always worked before, your neediness is a dependable source of praise from San. How he’d call you greedy with indulgent adoration, eating up the way you pleaded for his touch. “Want your cock, please, i-isn’t that what you wanted too? To feel me choke on you while Wooyoung fucks my pussy? I’ll be good, I’ll be your good girl, please, San, please…”
But San merely raises an eyebrow at you; not a trace of his usual warm indulgence, giving you nothing but chilled disapproval.
“Can’t keep that hungry mouth off me, can you,” he scoffs, pulling his hand away. “Haven’t you tasted enough of me tonight?”
You shake your head with a whine. “Never, Sannie. Not until you cum in my mouth,” you murmur, again daring to reach a hand for his cock.
This time, it is Wooyoung who stops you. He snatches your hand away, fingers digging into your wrist. “Come, baby, you know better than that,” he chuckles. “Are you trying to make it five times?”
“Aren’t you sweet, Woo,” San says with a soft laugh. “Saving her from herself. How about you help me out for the next three?”
Wooyoung perks up. “I can?” he asks, eyes glittering with an eager need — but he is still hesitant, waiting for San’s plans for him.
“Yeah.” San wraps his hand around the back of Wooyoung’s neck, pulling him in just to bite at his bottom lip. “Don’t think you’re off the hook,” he breaths in between bites. “But I might go easier on you if you behave now. Three more times, and if you do well, I’ll even let you fuck her pussy. Just imagine how fucking desperate she’ll be by then, sobbing on your cock like nothing else exists in the world.”
You swallow down a moan, heat stirring in your lower abdomen at just the thought.
“Hm, fuck… I can do that, San, I’ll behave,” Wooyoung groans, his grip on your wrist tightening in anticipation. “C-can I eat her out? She’s so wet, Sannie, you know how good she tastes…”
A combination of excitement and distress shoots through you. Wooyoung’s mouth on your cunt — without letting you cum? Fuck. You wonder what San might do if you get pushed over the edge anyway; a reasonable concern at this point. Your body is so wired that the mere thought of Wooyoung’s tongue sends sparks down your spine, into your core.
San grins, seeming to realise your potential predicament as well. “Just don’t forget what you’re supposed to do, alright,” he says, nipping at Wooyoung’s lips one final time before he lets go. “Don’t get carried away.”
It only takes a short moment of manoeuvring before Wooyoung has you flat on your back, while San leans back against the headboard; content to watch from a small distance. His fist squeezes around the base of his cock, sweat gathered on his knitted brow.
Meanwhile, Wooyoung makes himself perfectly comfortable between your thighs; one of your legs is swung over his shoulder, the other propped up against your ass to open you up for him.
His breath fans across your heated, sodden folds, and he is delighted at the discovery that you are every bit as wet as he imagined you to be. “Fuck, baby, you’re soaked,” he groans, reverence seeping into his words.
Wooyoung works you with surprising patience; slow thrusts of his tongue inside your cunt while his nose gets reacquainted with your clit. He groans as your fingers twine through his hair, tugging at the faded red strands just how you know he loves. San watches with detached curiosity, a faint slick sound of his palm sliding across his length reaching your ears.
The change of position gave you a short respite, but Wooyoung soon has you trembling underneath his mouth, his depraved moans rippling through you as he feasts. He is thorough, never one to waste anything that his probing tongue can reach. You can’t help from whining loudly and try to anchor yourself with your tight grip on his hair; but it’s not enough to keep you steady, a light-headed and floaty fog rolling in as your thoughts melt away into a daze.
It becomes all too easy to forget the purpose of why Wooyoung is doing this. After lapping up your juices, he drags his tongue from your entrance up to your clit, suckling on the swollen nub. Gradually, you surge towards that high, hips rolling up against his mouth as you chase it mindlessly — but Wooyoung proves himself obedient, and cruelly yanks your release away at the last moment.
A strangled moan tears from your throat, tears springing into your eyes. Wooyoung grunts as you pull at his hair, desperate to keep him on you, but his dark chuckle falls coolly on your slit, drenched with saliva and arousal.
“Wooyoungie, p-please let me cum,” you whimper, trying to appeal to his misbehaving ways. San shifts just slightly. “Right on your tongue, i-it will be good for you too, right? Hmgh!”
Wooyoung flicks a finger against your clit, tutting at you before San even needs to warn him. “Sorry, baby, but this is fun,” Wooyoung grins, running the same finger through your folds before he flicks at your clit again. His other hand keeps you in place, even when your hips try to snap up. “Wanna see how much I can make you squirm for the next one.”
“Y-you’re a backstabber, you know that,” you say, voice shaky. “Thought we were in this together. No loyalty.”
“He just knows what’s good for him,” San says, suddenly quite closeby. He’s kneeling just above you, your head resting between his spread knees. You crane your neck just far enough, and catch a perfect upside-down view of San jerking himself off with steady pumps, slowly rocking into his own hand. “Get back to it, Woo. Can’t have her recover too much between rounds, can we?”
As instructed, Wooyoung suctions his mouth back over your cunt. Whether he’s eager to please San or to unravel you, Wooyoung puts in his best efforts either way. He pants against your plush cunt, his own hips rocking into the mattress as his teeth graze over your clit. You mewl and twist against him but it’s no use, and Wooyoung glances up with a wicked grin as he drags his tongue back down to your fluttering hole. With decadent smacks of his lips, he drinks from you while deliberately pushing his nose against your clit.
San watches, enraptured, his own moans picking up as he gets closer to his own climax. He holds it off, denying himself for just a few moments longer, until he sees how Wooyoung releases you from his mouth and you convulse in frustration, and San finally lets himself go with a ragged groan, cumming over your chest and stomach.
You whimper a sob at the dual sensations of San’s hot seed hitting your skin, yet your orgasm getting ripped away from you. Tears cling to your lashes, and you see through blurred vision how San’s cum drips down your heaving chest, between the few crusty remnants of Wooyoung’s that he missed while ‘cleaning’ you up earlier.
Tiredly, barely even thinking about it, you reach to swipe some up on your fingers for a taste, but San snatches up your hand and offers it to Wooyoung instead.
With a pleased moan, Wooyoung accepts. His tongue swirls hungrily around your digits, sucking off every last drop. He pulls his lips away with a soft ‘pop’, and casts a longing glance at the mess on your torso.
“One more, Woo,” San reminds him sharply, his voice cutting through Wooyoung’s daze like a knife. “Then you can have as much as you want.”
Wooyoung whines softly, but his obedience holds strong… sort of.
As soon as he buries his face between your thighs again, you can sense that something has shifted in Wooyoung. He is more frenzied, less controlled in the way he eats at you, his patience crumbling away between frantic thrusts of his tongue. You cry out at his aggression, spine arching and toes digging into his back as Wooyoung slurps at you with reckless abandon. He humps against the bed as he threatens to shatter you to pieces, seemingly forgetting exactly what he is supposed to be doing — or not doing, your high approaching with rapid violence.
You sob out your pleas; your wires crossed, unable to decide whether you want him to push you over or not. You’re close, so fucking close, to both your peak and to appeasing San, and you can’t work out which is more important. All you know is that it is too much, too much, overwhelming all your senses — until it is all gone at once, and Wooyoung yowls as San has him grabbed by the hair, forcibly yanking him off your aching cunt.
You sob in relief and agony, mourning the overwhelming pleasure that recedes away from you.
“Enough, Woo,” San says, a low growl in his voice. “Not the time to get drunk on that pussy.”
Wooyoung quiets down fast, fully aware San might flip the script on him at any moment’s notice, if he decides Wooyoung hasn’t behaved to his wishes. “S-sorry, San,” he murmurs, grabbing and petting at San’s hand in his hair to placate him. “Just wanted to make the last one count…”
Slowly, San releases him and Wooyoung slumps down with a muffled whine. “Alright,” San says coolly, deciding to let it slide. “Then go and clean her up.”
Wooyoung does not hesitate for a second, crawling over your body. His lips are swollen and sticky from your cunt, but forever unsated, greedy as his tongue sweeps across your feverish skin.
You moan weakly at the light tickling of pleasure, as your body still lingers in the haze of being continuously overstimulated yet not stimulated enough. You wonder if Wooyoung’s task is intentional on San’s part; it keeps the fire between your thighs alive, but also gives some much-needed relief to your abused cunt.
Your theory is as much as confirmed when San runs a soothing hand across your jawline, tilting your head back to meet his eyes. His expression has softened into something gentle, careful fingers brushing over your sweat and tear-stained face, while Wooyoung sloppily laps up the last drops of cum from your tits.
“Did so good for me, baby,” San murmurs, a quiet pride shining through his gaze. “Took that punishment so well.”
Your head is still foggy, barely able to keep your thoughts in a straight line, but San’s praise coats it in warmth. “T-thank you,” you slur out.
San’s face opens up as his eyes widen in surprise, then he settles into a fond smile. “Oh, we’re not done yet,” he reminds you. “You ready?”
“…Do I get to cum now?”
Wooyoung chortles quietly, pressing a quick kiss on your navel before he sits back up again.
San shakes his head at your bold question, but can’t help from grinning. “You up to it, then? Let’s see if Wooyoung can get you there, hm? Can you get on your hands and knees?”
With his and Wooyoung’s help, you can.
Your knees are a little shaky, but Wooyoung has a firm hold on your waist as he grinds his pelvis against your ass, then slides his cock inside with little delay. Immediately you whine, walls fluttering around him — and San’s earlier spanking makes itself known as well, your cheek stinging with every thrust. Your sensitive body instinctively tries to shy away, but Wooyoung won’t have it, setting a steady pace that soon has you melting into him, reassured by the knowledge you won’t be denied again.
San has one hand cupped around your jaw, and with the other he brings his cock back to hardness. His eyes look a little tired but still alert, soft moans falling from his lips as he touches himself and has a front-row view of Wooyoung rutting into you, gradually picking up speed.
You moan at the way he fills you up; no direct stimulation on your clit, but Wooyoung catches on when you whine a little louder as he hits just the right spot, staying right there with every snap of his hips. The earlier fizzled out arousal comes back with a vengeance, and you clench around Wooyoung’s cock as he buries himself into you over and over again. “Fuck, fuck, taking me so well, baby,” he groans, fingers squeezing into your sore ass. “S-San, are you gonna—?”
San clasps your chin, thumb pressing against your bottom lip. “Thinking about it,” he muses. “What do you think? Did she do enough to be our good girl again?”
You whimper and try to nuzzle into his hand, assuring him that you are. Your body is close to being worn out, jostled by Wooyoung’s thrusts, but you don’t care, your need to get stuffed full allowing you to access some secret reserve of energy.
“Well,” Wooyoung chuckles, and you don’t need to look back to know his grin, “I’d sure say she did. Just look at her, Sannie. Don’t you want to finally cum in that pretty mouth?”
San scoffs lightly, reminded of your earlier antics, and for a moment you curse Wooyoung, fearing San might change his mind entirely. “I’ll fuck her mouth, sure,” San says sharply. “Didn’t say she gets my load.”
With that, San’s thick cock slides past your lips as he gently keeps you steady. Your eyes flutter shut with a blissful groan, easily relaxing your jaw as Wooyoung pushes San deeper into you with every slam of his hips.
Trapped between them, you are unable to do much more but keep yourself from collapsing, but thankfully their hands are on you in support. You surrender to it, to the way San’s dick is hot and twitching in your mouth, heavy on your tongue, while Wooyoung pistons into your throbbing cunt. He has found his rhythm, still catching that sponge of nerves with every drag of his long cock, and your whines grow increasingly loud. Drool pools in your mouth, then spills over onto your chin and San’s hand.
He grunts lowly as your tongue curves around him; it’s all you can do with Wooyoung fucking you from behind with increasing voracity. Wooyoung whines as you clench around him, switching to hard, long thrusts. You jolt and keen at the change, threatening to crumple when Wooyoung hits your g-spot with uncanny precision.
He forces you forward, and your eyes tear up as San unexpectedly hits the back of your throat — but it’s good, it’s all so good, and that long-denied, tightly coiled arousal inside your cunt finally snaps; bursting apart into sharp shards of overwhelming pleasure, coursing through your body without holding back. Your helpless wail is muffled on San’s cock, a deep pressure inside your abdomen releasing as a wet gush of translucent liquid is wrenched from your core, and then another, soaking San’s sheets while you tremble with every aftershock as Wooyoung fucks you through your orgasm.
San hisses at the sight, his eyes rolling back. “Fuck, baby,” he groans, and pulls your mouth off his cock. He whines softly as he palms himself, the tip still brushing against your lips. “Wooyoung—” he warns, and Wooyoung follows San’s lead; he wraps one arm around your waist to keep you upright, then slides out your still-twitching cunt to jerk himself off with rapid strokes.
You moan weakly when they both cum in quick succession; Wooyoung paints your ass in sticky whiteness, while San spills onto your face. Your tongue darts out in an attempt to catch some, and San chuckles at the sight, indulging your greed — which is how you know; you well and truly are his good girl again.
He leans down to capture your lips in a shallow but searing kiss, while Wooyoung gently helps you to sit on the bed. Wooyoung runs a hand along the tender swell of your ass, and he giggles when you whine against San’s mouth at the touch.
“Fuck, we made a mess of you,” he says, reaching to kiss your cheek, right on a thick glob of San’s cum.
San pulls back from your lips, looking you up and down with a proud grin. “You okay, baby?” he asks, and his grin widens when you give him a blissed-out nod. “Good girl. Let’s get you cleaned up and taken care of.”
“Oh, you already took plenty care of me,” you say, a sluggish smile on your lips. “But I won’t say no to borrowing your shower.”
San chuckles, pinching your cheek. “It’s all yours. Whatever you need.”
genre: smut, fluff-ish, neighbours au, friends with benefits
ch. summary: San calls you, and Wooyoung shows off his skills at photography.
wc: 7.9k
ch. warnings: dom San, sub Wooyoung, voyeur reader, phone sex, m x m, power bottom San, anal sex, (guided) masturbation, a nude from Woosan, dirty talk, degradation (@ Wooyoung; ‘fucktoy’ is used), felching / ass eating, pet names for reader (‘baby’ and ‘good girl’, 1x ‘cumdump’ as praise), pervy vibes at the start; Woosan are unaware of the voyeurism at first but everything is consensual
also mentions of: choking, hair pulling, blow job, dumbification, spitroasting, face fucking, creampie
a/n: features a soft-bodied, aromantic reader who uses she/her pronouns.
It actually takes a while for you to meet up with San and Wooyoung again. Why did nobody ever warn you as a kid that ‘schedule meetups with friends’ would be one of the most frustrating challenges you face in adulthood?
Even worse, it’s almost embarrassing how badly your neglected cooch complains about the lack of action. Your body has acclimatised to those intense orgasms real damn fast, and you’ve been so busy that there’s barely any opportunities for some proper self-care to tide you over.
You’re more than a little wired these days; so when a friend is forced to cancel plans at the last minute, it honestly comes as a relief rather than a disappointment. You indulge in the happy rush of an unexpected free evening, giving yourself a chance to relax, to fully relax — even if it will be without the assistance of two certain men. You’ll take what you can get.
You slip into the bedroom, mind set on your favourite vibrator; only to stop in your tracks when you hear a faint but unmistakable noise from the other apartment.
Huh.
Sounds like you might get a little assistance after all.
Quiet moans drift over from the other side of your shared wall, connecting to San’s own bedroom. It’s like your ears have been fine-tuned to their pleasure now, easily identifying Wooyoung’s muffled whines between San’s groans. An instant ache burns between your thighs, heat awakened by vivid memories.
You hesitate for a split-second, trained by old instincts to grab for your headphones and ignore those muted, lewd noises — until you remember that you don’t have to anymore. The guys made that clear enough.
(Wooyoung had been the one to bring the subject back up again, because of course he did. At first you assumed he was trying to fluster you; except that he actually looked disappointed when you admitted that no, you had never touched yourself to their overheard pleasure.
“Well, don’t deprive yourself next time, alright?” he told you with a playful wink.
“Woo, I think we’re supposed to keep it down next time,” San had pointed out, but stopped his chastising when he noticed the way you perked up at Wooyoung’s words. His smile had turned sly, “Or we won’t, I guess. Yeah, knock it out of the park, neighbour.”
Which is exactly what you plan to do now.)
You decide on manual labour, not wanting to risk San and Wooyoung hearing the buzzing from your toy. You make yourself comfortable in bed, wiggling out of your jeans and underwear as you lay back with your head against the pillow, legs propped up with ankles pressed against your ass to open yourself up. A testing graze through your folds confirms your suspicions of a growing wetness, but you still suck two fingers in your mouth for some extra help.
With your tongue curving around your fingers and saliva gathering rapidly, free hand fondling at your clothed breast, you close your eyes and focus on the intimate noises that you are privy to.
It’s mostly San that you can hear right now, if you’re not mistaken. His quiet moans mingle with hard breaths, an occasional shuddered whine. You shudder along with him, wondering what Wooyoung is doing to elicit those sounds.
It’s so easy now, to visualise how Wooyoung might be chocking on San’s cock, throat gagging around the thick girth. How his eyes tear up when his nose presses against San’s pelvis, against the light feathering of neatly maintained pubic hair. San’s muted noises would be all too understandable; you now know from first hand experience how gifted that damn mouth is.
His fingers might be tangled in Wooyoung’s hair to force him deeper, pulling at the red strands just the way Wooyoung likes. San would stare down at him with that heated intense gaze, brow knitted, his hips rocking into Wooyoung’s mouth.
Curiosity purrs inside you, wondering how close you are to the truth.
Maybe Wooyoung is sucking San off just how you pictured; but maybe San is on his knees instead, resting his arms on the bed as a pillow for his head, ass perked up in the air while Wooyoung spreads his cheeks to feast on him. Or maybe you are wrong entirely; maybe the reason you don’t hear Wooyoung anymore is because you’d misheard earlier and he isn’t even there. It could be just you and San, both taking matters into your own hands.
The endless possibilities spark your fantasies into overdrive, and you pop your glistening fingers out of your mouth with a quiet moan.
You work up another thick globule of spit to coat onto your already glossy fingertips, just to get yourself extra nice and sloppy; but some spills onto your chin, and you are forced to bite back another moan as it leaks down your jawline.
Already making a mess of yourself. You wonder what the guys would have to say about that.
Just the thought causes a sharp pulse in your abdomen. Would they tease you for how needy you are? San might suck the wet trail of saliva right off of you, leisurely tonguing at your heated skin. “Let us take care of that, baby,” Wooyoung might tell you, hands on your thighs as he keeps your legs spread and leans in close, slowly letting spit dribble down from his lips onto your aching cunt.
You can’t wait a moment longer and reach down, fingers clumsy with haste and arousal. You sigh at the contact with your sodden folds, the extra lubrication entirely unnecessary. You start off with slow swirls around your clit, building up the pressure while you continue to listen in.
San’s groans get a little louder, breathless and needy, and you bite down hard on your bottom lip to muffle a noise of your own.
Because you had weighed your options; to either shamelessly make your presence known, or stay unnoticed. You had decided on the latter, not wanting to intrude on their moment — though you can’t deny there also is a thrill to it for you.
It is almost like a little game; trying to keep silent, to not get caught. Luxuriating in every lewd noise that drifts your way, swallowing down your own.
Despite having San and Wooyoung’s consent, somehow the act of quietly listening in without their knowledge still feels a little taboo. A little perverted. You are hyperaware of the activity on the other side of the wall, while they have no awareness of you at all. And you have to be careful with the presses against your clit to keep it that way, slowly working yourself up.
There is some muted talk; so you hadn’t been mistaken earlier, Wooyoung is there. You can’t quite make out their words, but the tone hints at urgency.
They quiet down for a moment, then it is Wooyoung who gets noisier with those familiar, whiny moans. The bed creaks underneath them, growing louder and quicker, just as Wooyoung’s whines do. Now you feel a bit more confident in the truth of your fantasies; San thrusting into him with those brutal hips, fucking Wooyoung into a cockdumb daze.
Your body is ablaze, like you are in the room with them. You get lost in the images, in the memories, and start to forget yourself — forget that you are supposed to stay quiet. The heel of your hand presses against your clit as you push two fingers inside at once, but you let out a strangled whine of dissatisfaction, knowing either of their cocks would fill you up so much better.
(Fuck, had it only taken this little for them to ruin you?)
You keep up a steady pace, and use your free hand to rub at your clit for some much-needed relief. Again, it’s hard not to draw comparisons — between your fingers and Wooyoung’s mouth or his nose, it’s an easy choice which you prefer on your clit — but you do know exactly how to make yourself feel good, which patterns will lead you to that illusive edge your cunt is begging for.
Wooyoung’s whines are growing louder; he is as shameless as ever in his lack of restraint, only spurring you on to do the same. It’s like Wooyoung’s pleasure is tied to your own, pulling you along higher with his irresistible moans, evoking imagery of his mouth falling open, a thin trail of spit escaping past the corner of his lips as he claws at the bed-sheets, at San’s shoulders, at anything within reach.
You clamp around your fingers when Wooyoung’s voice breaks with a cried sob, and you break right with him. A desperate whimper falls past your lips as your hips buck up against your fingers, a sharp surge of heat searing right through you.
It is not the longest orgasm you’ve had, but it is intense; and a distinct silence greets you when you come down from your high, panting hard. The abrupt stop of noises from the other side of the wall can pretty much only mean one thing.
San and Wooyoung heard you.
Well. Fuck.
You groan when you realise that you’ve failed at your own self-imposed challenge. So much for staying unnoticed; you got caught with your hand right in the metaphorical cookie jar (the cookie jar being a metaphor for your cunt).
It’s not the end of the world, of course, since they did give you the go-ahead earlier. Still, the sudden silence causes a flash of self-consciousness, and for a split-second you worry that San and Wooyoung might have realised in this very moment that this type of voyeurism is not their thing after all.
But then there is some murmured talk, and a breathless laugh from Wooyoung eases the knot in your stomach. His laugh quickly turns into a another moan, desperate and whiny, and your tension fades completely.
You relax as the bed on the other side starts creaking again, even feeling a renewed throb of pleasure between your thighs, angling for attention. (“Greedy,” you can almost hear San’s voice purr in your ear, so pleased with your neediness. “Already that sweet cunt of yours is begging for a second round.”)
Now that they’re clued in on your presence, you expect Wooyoung and San to simply continue on. Maybe play it up a little; Wooyoung in particular seems like the type to deliberately put on a show. Maybe San will rile him up on purpose, pushing Wooyoung to the very limit for his benefit and yours.
What you do not expect, is for your phone to start buzzing.
“Fuck!” you hiss under your breath. You fling yourself upright, frantically wiping your hands on the sheets before you grab the phone from the nightstand, spitting muttered curses at the interruption. Who the fuck still calls these days? You are all ready to push it away — but you freeze at the name on display.
San.
You blink at your phone, struggling to comprehend the situation, still hearing the creaks and moans on the other side. You accept the call, and slowly lift your phone up to your ear.
“So, uh—”
But it is Wooyoung who interrupts you with a loud whimper; you hear it slightly echoed, one muffled through the wall, and one crystal clear through the phone. You shudder at the sound, thighs clenching.
“Hey Woo, having a nice night in?” you chuckle breathlessly, sitting back down on the bed. Your frustrations over getting caught are all but forgotten.
San says something in the background, and Wooyoung swallows down a moan. “H-hey. Is it okay that we’re calling? We can hang up right now, if you’d rather not.” Again, San speaks up, and something about his tone gives you the sense that he is passing instructions. Wooyoung breaths shakily, “We can pretend we didn’t hear you. Up to you. We’re — shit — we’re good either way. F-fuck, San…”
“No, it’s okay,” you hum, reaching a lazy hand back down to slide a finger through your soaked folds.
Wooyoung scoffs at something San tells him. “I was gonna ask her that anyway!” he says, huffy. “S-so, hngh, do you want to know what San is doing to me?”
“I have my suspicions,” you say with a light sigh, pressing a little firmer against your clit. Feeling a little bolder. “Is he fucking you, Wooyoung? Stuffing you full?”
“N-no. He — mmhh! — he’s in my lap. R-riding my cock. He’s— fuck, mhf—!”
That is all the information you get, the rest left up to your fantasies; Wooyoung chokes up with a strangled cry. The sound is only faintly echoed through the wall — but through the phone you can hear every tiny hitch of his breath, even the smallest whimpers transmitted directly into your ear.
But suddenly even those noises are muffled, replaced by a wet smacking noise of what you guess to be lips meeting in a feverish kiss. San groans into the phone, presumably sticking his tongue down Wooyoung’s throat in a sloppy make-out, swallowing every whine.
You breath picks up as you listen to them, the creaking of San’s bed slowing down while the wet noises of their mouths grow more frantic. Gasps and whines intermingle, including your own, and light-headedness starts to set in.
You blink out of a daze when the sounds break off and Wooyoung moans in frustration — but his voice through the phone becomes less distinct, and it is San whom you hear next.
“Hey, neighbour,” he says in a teasing, almost casual tone. His voice is strained, but shockingly composed for a man who is allegedly fucking himself on Wooyoung’s cock. “Thought you weren’t home today. Are we wearing you out already?”
The squeaky sounds from the bed continue, San’s breath growing raspier. The sound is like a distant rolling storm in your ears, and you bite back a quiet moan. “F-friend cancelled. Didn’t know you’d be home either. Sorry for interrupting.”
San lets out a husky chuckle. “Not at all,” he says, then grunts tightly. “Hmm, that’s it. Stay just like that for me, hm?”
You shallow thickly, your overactive imagination firing on all cylinders. Is San holding Wooyoung down; his phone in one hand and the other pinning Wooyoung’s wrists into the mattress? Or is he yanking at Wooyoung’s hair, forcing his head to tilt back? San might even have his hand on Wooyoung’s throat, squeezing ever so lightly. You can picture it so easily, with Wooyoung looking positively wrecked underneath San, tears streaked across his cheeks as he draws stifled breaths.
(San might be looking halfway wrecked himself, sweaty and flushed while his hips smoothly roll into Wooyoung’s lap.)
“Do you want to keep talking, or just listen?” San asks, and you need a moment to remember he’s speaking to you. You are an active participant now, no longer just an eavesdropper.
“Talk,” you admit breathlessly. San’s voice is husky from exertion, addictive to your eardrums. Earlier you had indulged in being unseen; but now you can’t bring yourself to part with him yet. “Please.”
San hums approvingly at your plea. “Did you cum yet, baby? Is that what we heard?”
“Y-yeah. Couldn’t help it, Wooyoung, he… ”
“Ahh, Wooyoungie…” San says fondly. “He never knows how to keep quiet either. Such pretty noises he makes, doesn’t he?” San’s praise draws out more of those exact pretty noises, a faint “Sannie…” floating in from the background. San gently shushes Wooyoung, and turns his attention back to you. “Want to cum again? I’ll help you out.”
The straightforward confidence of his offer already helps you along just fine, his cocky grin ghosting across your mind’s eye. “Fuck,” you sigh, fingers clenching around your phone. “Please, San.”
“Are you sitting or lying down?”
“Sat up to get my phone…”
He tsks. “That won’t do. Lay back down, phone on speaker.”
You do just so, sending a silent apology to your other neighbours. Sure, the guy living downstairs from San is always off on some business trip or another, but old Mrs Yoon from the apartment underneath you is more of a homebody.
But she is quickly dispelled from your considerations when Wooyoung gets antsy while waiting, whining louder now that San’s focus is on you. He starts to babble in incoherent desperation, but he cries out as a resounding smack cuts him off, his whimpers slowly dying down.
“Don’t interrupt while I’m on the phone,” San tells him, coldly. “Sounds like you need a reminder. What are you, Wooyoung? Tell me now.”
Wooyoung chokes out a word that you can’t make out.
“That’s right,” San says coolly, satisfied by the quick response; but curiosity licks at your cunt with hungry urgency.
You settle down on the bed, phone by your ear as instructed. “W-what is he, San?”
San puts his own phone on speaker as well and the sound changes, picking up Wooyoung’s laboured gasps for air. “Tell her, Woo. Tell her what you are.”
“Just, nghh, just a fucktoy…”
“Exactly,” San coos, while heat flashes between your thighs at Wooyoung’s wretched voice. “And fucktoys should wait quietly for their turn. Now… baby, are you all settled for me?”
He’s talking to you again, you realise. “Y-yeah,” you moan, hands wandering down to your dripping cunt. “Help me cum, San. Please.”
“I’ll get you there, baby, don’t worry. I got you.” San had spoken coldly to Wooyoung, but now all the chill in his voice has evaporated, replaced by a silky warmth that wraps reassuringly around you. “Are you touching yourself? Tell me what you’re doing.”
“T-touching my clit…”
“Hm, good. What else?” His breathing is a little ragged, while Wooyoung’s tiny moans remain a steady constant in the periphery of your hearing. “Got your fingers inside that sweet cunt, stretching yourself out?”
You let out a soft whine, shaking your head until you remember San can’t see you. “I did earlier, but…”
“But?”
“Wasn’t enough… Wasn’t your cock…”
“Shit.” San groans hoarsely, a light shudder to his exhale. “Did I wreck you that quickly, baby? Won’t settle for anything less than my dick filling you up. Soon,” he rasps, “you’ll have me again soon. But for now, I need you to put in two fingers, alright? Don’t try for more; it will never feel as good as me burying my cock in that wet pussy like it belongs there, so don’t frustrate yourself. Just give a little extra attention to that needy clit and you’ll be just fine. You’re in good hands, promise.”
You follow orders with a hitched moan, thumb pressing down harder on the swollen nub. Already tension builds in your core, coiling tighter when the faint squeaking of San’s bed reaches your ear again, quiet enough to only be audible through the phone. Wooyoung hisses in response, struggling to stay still.
“Hear me move?” San asks, and you whine in confirmation. “Try to match me, alright?” He starts up a slow but steady pace, the sound of skin slapping against skin drifting through. “Fuck yourself on your fingers just like I’m fucking myself on this sweet little fucktoy.”
Wooyoung can’t help himself, whimpering at San’s words and growing louder with every jostle of the bed.
“I-I am, Sannie,” you whine, and somehow the slide of your fingers is more satisfying this time around, guided along by San’s own movements. You can easily picture those flexible hips swerving against Wooyoung’s lap, gradually picking up speed. “Feels, hmm, feels b-better now.”
“That’s it, that’s my good girl,” San praises, grunting lowly as he moves. “Still rubbing your clit? A little harder now. Just how you like it, make yourself feel good for me.”
Your back arches with a pitchy moan, toes curling into the sheets. After a moment of searching, your fingers manage to slip into that sweet spot, sparks jolting through your nerves as you whimper shakily.
“Right there,” San groans at your sudden increase in volume. “Don’t slow down now, keep at it right there. Mmmh, I bet you’re dripping, aren’t you? You’re always so fucking wet for us, making a mess. Fuck, can you hear her, Woo? Getting herself off at just the thought of us.”
You whine, almost a little embarrassed — except that San sounds so fucking pleased about it.
“W-wanna see…” Wooyoung croaks.
“Oh, I’m sure you want a whole lot more than that,” San says with a tight chuckle. “Wouldn’t be able to keep your hands to yourself, let alone your mouth. What about you, baby?” he asks you, the smooth purr of his voice raising the hairs in your neck. “What’d you like to do if you were here, not stuck on the other side of that damn wall?”
“W-watch. Just wanna watch,” you admit, completely earnest. For all the temptations of Wooyoung eating you out until you cry, or San fucking you into a stupor, you are entirely fixated on the noises you hear right now.
It’s just too powerful, the visual of San riding Wooyoung’s dick; how Wooyoung is at San’s mercy despite being balls deep inside him. Sobbing with every forceful snap of San’s hips, driving Wooyoung closer and closer to the brink. You imagine how San’s head is thrown back, brow knitted with concentration and pleasure as sweat beads on his tanned skin, Wooyoung’s nails clawing at his waist and ass. Did he cum yet? Or is he hard and aching, denying himself until he ensures Wooyoung is utterly ruined?
Somehow you can feel San’s grin through the phone, like he knows exactly what is flashing through your mind.
“Cute,” he murmurs. “Not in a greedy mood today, hm?”
Wrong. You are greedy. Hunger gnaws at your stomach, sharp and ravenous. You’d tear down that wall with your bare hands if you could, just for a glimpse. Your cunt twitches around your fingers at the fact that they’re so closeby, yet so far out of reach.
“Hm… Wooyoung?” San asks, and there seems to be a moment of non-verbal communication going on at their end. “Alright, baby. Thought of a little something that might help you out. Would you like that?”
“H-help me out?” you say, too dazed to comprehend.
“Yeah.” The complaints of San’s bed slow down until they stop completely. “Wooyoung is a great photographer, did you know?”
The daze lifts, comprehension dawns. “…Oh.”
“Is that a yes?”
“Fuck yes.”
A rustling sound comes through the line as San hands it over to Wooyoung (or so you assume). “Shit,” Wooyoung mumbles, “that’s so fucking hot,” and after a beat you get the notification of a sent photo.
You shakily clean your fingers on the sheets as you grab for your phone — and almost drop it on your face when the file opens.
Wooyoung hadn’t exaggerated; it is fucking hot.
He has kept San’s face carefully out of frame; it cuts off at the neck, barely high enough to catch a few of his freckles — but the rest of him is on full display. San has one hand loosely wrapped around his darkened cock, balls hanging heavy underneath and a beautiful thick glob of precum leaking from the tip, captured perfectly on camera. He lifted his other hand to rest on the back of his neck, showing off his broad chest. His skin glows with the glisten of sweat, begging to be licked off his dark nipples and tensed abs.
San is leaning back slightly in a way that has to be deliberate, his muscular thighs clenched as he cants his hips forward; lifting himself up just enough to give you a clear view of Wooyoung disappearing inside his tight hole.
You can’t breathe, eyes impossibly wide as you take in every detail — and then your phone buzzes again, a second photo sent your way.
“Wha—?”
The sound you make at the picture meets somewhere in-between a moan and a giggle; Wooyoung has sent you a fucking selfie.
He is giving the camera a cheeky wink, eyes heavy-lidded and a strain pulling at his lips. His face is flushed, eyebrow piercing glinting through the bangs of his mussed up hair. It’s starting to grow out; dark roots clearly visible and the vivid red hue fading to something a little softer, not quite pink-ish but heading there. He has his head tilted to the side to showcase a prominent hickey on his neck.
“You look like you’re having a good time, Wooyoung,” you try to tease, but it comes out breathless.
Wooyoung lets out a hoarse chuckle. “Well, you saw the view that I got here, right?”
You swipe back to the first image, and inhale sharply all over again at the sight. “San wasn’t kidding, you are a great photographer,” you murmur, admiring the flattering angle at which he caught San’s body, emphasising his impressive physique and mouth-watering proportions. You suspect it’s a challenge for San to take an unflattering photo, but Wooyoung certainly did him justice.
Wooyoung seems to agree with you. “Well, the model h-helps,” he says, ending on a sudden, hitched moan. The noise of lips wetly pressing against skin wafts through the phone, slowly getting louder as Wooyoung whimpers shakily. “Ngh, San…”
San groans in response, lavishing Wooyoung with heated attention for a moment longer, every moan prickling across your skin. “Give me that,” San eventually says. “I wanna talk to her again.”
Breath catches in your throat, anticipation setting you on edge.
“Hey neighbour,” he says, lowly. “Are you still touching yourself?”
“N-no, got distracted…” you admit.
He chuckles, a raspy sound that goes straight into your ear and your cunt. “That’s okay. But you still want to cum, right?” San hums in acknowledgement at your whiny moan. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Then stop neglecting that poor clit, hm?”
You keep your eyes glued on your phone as you reach back down with one hand, sighing in relief at the contact with your slick folds.
“Let me hear those pretty moans,” San encourages, starting to move again, and you can’t even be sure if he’s talking to you or Wooyoung.
Either way, you obey him — you have no choice but to. Not when a downright pornographic soundscape flows forth from your phone; wet squelches and skin slapping against skin, San’s rough grunts and Wooyoung’s desperate keening. Within no time, you are back on the steady path to blissful release.
San swears under his breath. “C’mon. Are you gonna make me cum like the good little fucktoy you are?”
Wooyoung breathes with broken sobs, his tongue tripping over curses and wailing futilely as San rides him hard. San is unravelling himself too, panting roughly, biting back his moans. He is nearing that edge fast, and you are right with him — but neither of you are as fast as Wooyoung.
“Hm, hm, hm. Ah, S-Sannie, hmgh, f-fuck, fuck fuck, I won’t— I can’t— hnnn ah aHH—”
He cums with a pained, almost soundless cry; voice trapped in his choked-up throat. The strangled cry drives straight into your cunt, along with images of his convulsing body, trembling uncontrollably as he empties himself in San’s tight hole. It topples you right over, your own cries anything but silent. The hand holding your phone falls limply onto the bed, sparks shooting down all the way to your toes as your hips jerk into your fingers, chasing every cresting wave of pleasure.
The waves keep at you for what feels like forever, until they slowly begin to die down. You’re still gasping for air as you land softly from your high, accompanied by the sound of Wooyoung whimpering quietly, Together, you catch your breath.
“Haaa, hm, s-shit. ‘M sorry, San…” he sniffles, voice so hoarse it’s almost inaudible even over the phone.
San tuts coolly. “That’s disappointing.”
“F-fuck my mouth, I’ll make it up to you, I’ll make you cum so good, San, Sannie— let me touch— mghh—!”
A sharp slap reaches your ears. “Hands to yourself, Woo. You don’t get to touch my cock, that was the rule.”
“Then— then let me eat you out. Please, San, f-fuck…”
Wooyoung trails off into a quiet moan, just when you hear a faint squelch. San chuckles, humourless. “You like the sight of that, don’t you? Watching your own cum drip out of me. Look at that, it’s getting all over you.” Then he sighs, like he’s coming to a pained decision. “Alright, I’ll give you one last chance.”
There is a shifting sound, and Wooyoung makes a tired but excited noise that is quickly muffled.
“That’s it,” San says with a husky sigh. “Like that, yeah. Clean up your own mess, lap it all up for me. Make that mouth useful while I talk.” His voice comes closer to you again. “That sounded like a good one,” he hums, but you can hear the strained edge to him.
“It was,” you say, feeling a hazy giddiness in your post-orgasm bliss. “Sorry you didn’t get to cum yet.”
“Hmm, don’t worry about me. Wooyoung knows he has something to make up for,” San says. You can picture his grin, how his hand runs through those faded red locks as he yanks Wooyoung to exactly to where he wants, to suck every drop of seed out of his leaking hole. “Besides, you could help me out this time… if you’d like.”
It is an offer, but he puts it forth with complete confidence that he knows exactly what you’d like. And he is absolutely right.
You sigh contently, luxuriating in the soft exhaustion that is slowly dissolving your consciousness. “Yeah,” you murmur, and run a leisurely hand underneath your shirt, up to squeeze at your breast. Just a lazy touch, gently stoking the pleasure for a little longer while you keep San company. “Said I just wanted to watch you before, right? I… I changed my mind.”
San lets his moans slip more freely now, and his voice goes a little deeper at your admission. “Tell me, baby. Tell me what you want.”
You chew at your bottom lip, all your endless wants swirling around your head like spun cotton candy — until you finally settle on one to share. “Wooyoung isn’t allowed to touch your cock, but you can, right? Want you to touch yourself… and pretend it’s my mouth.”
“Fuck, baby…” You hear San spit in his hand before he wraps his fingers around his thick cock, groaning lowly.
“Want to suck you off so bad,” you say, playing up your moan just slightly as you pluck at one of your pebbled nipples. “Been on my mind for so long now. Wanna taste you…”
“W-while Wooyoung is tongue-fucking me?” San asks shakily, his steady composure breaking down. “Cleaning up his own mess so well. He doesn’t get as drunk on ass as he does on that sweet pussy of yours, but fuck… Doing such a good job, Woo…”
You can barely catch Wooyoung’s moan in response, muffled and covered by San’s sharp hiss.
“W-would like that very much, yeah,” you admit, wishing it was San’s mouth on your nipple instead of your fingers, “but…”
“‘But’?” he encourages, the word spoken tightly as though through gritted teeth.
“…I’d also like him to fuck me.”
San makes a sound that’s between a laugh and a whine. “Hm, s-so that is still on your mind, huh? Getting both of our cocks at once. Could you handle that, baby? Wooyoungie here can get pretty rough, he’d have you choking on my dick while your slick pussy gets wrecked by that pretty cock of his.” (Wooyoung lets out a garbled moan that seems to be agreement.)
You whimper at the thought. “W-wouldn’t mind that…”
“You wouldn’t?” San rasps, fresh excitement pouring into his heady aroused state. “Want me to fuck that tight throat until you gag on it, then?”
“Y-yeah… make me choke on it, San,” you say with a whine. “Cum in my mouth, wanna swallow it all down.”
“Fuck, but you really do love being a sweet cumdump for us,” he groans. “Such a good girl. Letting us fill you up from both ends, taking me down your throat while Wooyoung stuffs that pussy full.”
“Do it, do it.” You start to feel floaty again, carried away by your fantasies. “Fuck my face until I can’t breathe, I’d be so good to you, so good, swallow everything you give me I promise, give it to me. Sannie—”
San breaks.
You can’t be sure what pushed him over the edge; your babbling, Wooyoung’s tongue, or his own hand, but over the edge he is pushed, violently. He gasps and shudders, a throttled curse barely making it past his lips as he whines; a sound that could be pathetic if it wasn’t so fucking beautiful, a desperate release torn deep from his throat.
He recovers only slowly, with heavy grunts and huffs for breath. There is shifting sounds again — and you suspect San has slumped onto the bed, where you can faintly hear Wooyoung hum sweet praises at him, saying something about getting them both cleaned up. San groans in response, and there are more rustling sounds.
For a split-second you feel awkward and forgotten, unsure where you fit in next. But then Wooyoung has grabbed the phone, anchoring you back to him. “So… was that as good for you as it was for us?” he asks cheekily, and you fondly roll your eyes so hard you hope he can feel it through the phone.
“Pretty nice…” you say in a tired drawl, vaguely aware that eventually you will have to move again. Not right now, though.
Wooyoung just giggles. “Good. That was a nice surprise for us too.”
“’M glad,” you murmur. “Hey, um… those pictures,” you start, feeling a little awkward about bringing it up. “Should I delete those?”
“What?!” Wooyoung sounds outright offended at the notion. “Don’t you dare, that shot of San turned out way too good to throw out. Consider it a treat for you, that’s what hidden albums are for, right?”
Your lips curl into a light smile, touched by their trust in your discretion. “Thanks. Seriously though, it really is a great shot, you know,” you add on. “No joke, you know your angles.”
You don’t have to see Wooyoung to sense how he perks up at the praise. “You think so? I could show you some other stuff too, if you want,” he says excitedly. “I’ve been really getting into photography lately.”
“…Jung Wooyoung,” you say carefully, “are you offering to show me your nudes collection?”
He laughs, a sound you hear even through the wall. “No, no! Not all of them are like that! PG-13, these are PG-13, I swear! Still interested, or is it boring now?” he jokes, a grin in his voice.
Actually, that just makes you more curious. “No, I’m interested,” you say with a quiet laugh of your own.
“Hm… are you free tomorrow? We could grab some lunch together.”
His pro-activeness catches you off-guard, and you take a moment too long to respond.
“Hey, what’s with the hesitation? I’m a lot of fun to hang out with even with my clothes on, you know,” he huffs in faux-offence, making you giggle again.
“I don’t know, actually,” you point out. “But I suppose that just means I should give you a chance to prove it.”
“That’s the spirit! Lunch it is.”
“Without me?” San sulks tiredly, sounding like he’s on the brink of sleep.
“Aish, don’t pout, you get to see both of us plenty,” Wooyoung chides. “We’ll bring you some snacks over at work after, alright? I’ll buy you some nice gimbap or something, from that place you like.”
“Hmm alright,” San relents, mollified by the promise of food.
“So,” Wooyoung says to you. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Pick you up around one?”
“Yeah, that’s good. See you tomorrow,” you say with a small grin, already looking forward to it.
Wooyoung had spoken the truth; he is a lot of fun even with his clothes on.
He takes you to a small place about halfway between your apartment and San’s work, rustic and cosy with a lot of dark woodwork and lush greenery. The staff enthusiastically greets Wooyoung by name, and he jokes with the kind, grandmotherly waitress who sweetly scolds him for staying away too long.
Soon enough there is a small feast of platters and bowls in front of you, heavenly smells wafting up to make your mouth water. Wooyoung ushers you to dig in, pushes his favourites, and you bask in culinary heaven with the rich kimchi stew, sticky fried chicken and good companionship.
Wooyoung is both an easy talker and easy to talk to. Idle small-talk fills the space between you until the sharp edge of your hunger has been sated, and Wooyoung pulls up his phone to showcase those promised photos.
You had not been sure what to expect.
Honestly, you just didn’t know Wooyoung well enough yet to know what ‘getting into photography’ means; whether it’s something he is actually serious about, or if you’d end up scrolling through a random assortment of goofy pictures of San.
Well. There are pictures of San — but they definitely are not random, nor goofy.
Instead, Wooyoung takes you through a series of gentle candid shots. They appear to be taken on the same day, just a quiet afternoon around the apartment. Sunlight strews into the living room, casting a soft glow around San’s form as he relaxes on the couch with Byeol in his lap. Every picture is taken with obvious care to capture how the light hits San’s features just right; the slight furrow of his brow, the pronounced cheekbones, or his pursed lips as he lovingly gazes down at Byeol, sleeping in his arms.
In the next photo he stares off into the distance, quiet and contemplative. It’s not like you’ve never seen San be quiet before; how he used to be quietly shy in the hallways — or the quiet intensity in the bedroom, wrapped up in authoritative focus. This is neither of those things; this is a peaceful, intimate quiet. Brought about by simply existing in the world with ease and comfort, next to a person he feels safe with.
You look up at Wooyoung, who is smiling at the photo on display with starry adoration in his eyes. He glances back at you when he notices you looking, his eyes still gleaming. “Well? What do you think?”
“They’re good, Woo,” you say earnestly. “You really capture him well. It’s like… really intimate? I love how soft he looks.”
He giggles at the praise, hiding his mouth behind his hand. “Ah wait, hang on,” he then says. “These aren’t the ones I really wanted to show you. Making San look good is easy, right? But these…”
A faint warmth heats your skin as you remember the last time Wooyoung made San look good on camera. He swipes through some pictures, slow enough to give you a quick look, but clearly focused on getting to the ones he’s looking for.
In the meanwhile, you glimpse at the other photos; there is one where Wooyoung caught San’s surprise at having the camera pointed at him, his eyes wide — but they sink into a crescent smile in the next frame, dimples and all. A few other people pass by; a beautiful young man with statuesque features stands out in particular, a birthmark on his temple that Wooyoung has taken great effort to highlight.
Then suddenly the people are gone from the screen, and Wooyoung hands you back his phone to scroll through at your own pace.
You blink at the abrupt shift from candids to urban photography.
Wooyoung favours cool colours and clean architectural lines, that much is clear from just a glance. They’re mostly shots from buildings and streets that you could see any day, just by walking outside. The first impression of it is almost a little underwhelming — until you take a moment to really look at his photos.
That is when you notice the subtle perspective of Wooyoung, how he carefully manages to catch all these ordinary, common places strewn through the city in a way that sheds new light on them, making you look at them differently. Finding beauty in mundanity, hidden right in plain sight. You smile gently when you note an affinity for train stations and railroads, the overhead lines contrasted against cool blue skies in intricate patterns; simple functionality, turned into art through Wooyoung’s lens.
You take another quick glance at him, and ‘nervous’ is not quite the right word to describe Wooyoung, but he is definitely more subdued than before, more focused on your reaction.
The love he pours in his candid shots is obvious, but Wooyoung seems to know those are easy crowd-pleasers. He does not have the same confidence in this area of his interest. (He really should, though.)
“I know this street,” you say, tapping the edge of his phone. “But… I didn’t know it looks like this. Does that make sense? I didn’t realise it’s this lovely. It’s like… like you notice the things others overlook, just because we see them every day. I love them, Woo.”
Wooyoung bites down a smile. “Really?” he asks, like he needs an extra nudge before he can absorb your words.
“Yeah, really,” you persuade him, a smile pulling at your lips at how he lights up.
It’s interesting; Wooyoung’s photographs show you how he sees the world around him, shifting your own perspective to match his — but the images also reflect back on him, shifting your perspective yet again. Like you are peeling back layers, seeing a Wooyoung who is not just brazen and flirty, but also thoughtful and appreciative.
“You’re really cool, you know,” Wooyoung says, between mouthfuls of fried chicken and rice. “I’m glad it’s you who walked in on San and me.”
You almost choke on the stew. There is that brazen Wooyoung back again. “Aren’t you a sweet-talker!” you wheeze, hitting your chest to recover. “Coming in with the flattery after I’ve said nice things about your photos, I see how this works.”
He laughs in protest. “I’m serious, you’re fun!”
“Even with my clothes on?” you grin, unable to resist teasing him about yesterday.
“Even with your clothes on, yes,” Wooyoung says, grinning right back at you. “What about me, hm?”
“Yeah, you’re fun too I guess,” you say with a dramatic sigh, like the admission only comes begrudgingly.
“Oh, I know,” Wooyoung says, biting his lip at you.
You give him a heavy side-eye. “…And kind of insufferable.”
He laughs again, that loud cackle that twists his whole face with contagious joy, and he claps his hands together in delight. “See? That’s what I mean. We’re having fun, right?”
“Well, I’m just happy to know I’m not intruding,” you tell him. “I’d hate to be overstepping on anything.”
“Intrude? On what?” Wooyoung asks, confused for a moment before he realises what you mean. “Wait, on me and San? No way.” He shakes his head. “Listen, I told you that I used to be in an open relationship, right? But— Hey, now don’t give me that look!” he laughs, though you didn’t realise you were giving him one. “I remember what you told us, I wasn’t thinking like that! I just mean, I’m happy to keep things more closed for San, but it did open up the conversation for other options, youknow. That we don’t have to be traditional about everything. And this thing with you, whatever label we do or don’t put on it, it seems to work out for everyone, right?”
“I believe the typical phrase people use is ‘friends with benefits’,” you point out.
This time, Wooyoung is the one making a face. “No, not into that. Any friendship with me comes with benefits. There are so many more perks other than just the bedroom stuff, you know that?”
“Hm… I might need convincing,” you say, keeping your voice deliberately aloof. “How about I take you up on that offer to cook for me and San. You said you wanted to, right? That might persuade me.”
Wooyoung rolls his eyes, but it can’t hide the obvious happy gleam. “Already abusing the privilege of my friendship, huh?”
“Oh, so now it’s not just a perk, it’s a privilege,” you tease. “That better be a damn impressive meal, Jung.”
But Wooyoung’s proof of his cooking skills will have to wait until later, and you first focus on finishing the food in front of you.
After lunch is eaten and gone, you rock-paper-scissors it out for the bill. Wooyoung takes the victory, and somehow he argues that means he has won the right to pay. And although you can’t find any indication that this restaurant usually serves food-to-go, you step out the doors with a generous serving of gimbap anyway, safely stored for travel.
Together you walk to San’s work. Wooyoung easily chats the time away, talking about the camera he’s saving up for, and thinking about what food he wants to cook, asking if you have any allergies.
Meanwhile, you look around you with a little more attention than usual. You try to see the streets like Wooyoung does, and actually find a lot of spots that you recognise from his photos. It dawns on you that he must take this route often, maybe walking San to work or dropping food off for him.
Soon you reach the taekwondo school where San teaches. It’s your first time here, but Wooyoung is greeted just as warmly as at the restaurant. He gets warned that San is in the middle of a class but that does not deter him; so you drop off the food just around the corner of a training room, where San is enthusiastically psyching up a tiny girl with even tinier pigtails to kick her target as high as she can.
You and Wooyoung can’t do much more than take a quick sneak peak at the lesson, but San catches sight of the two of you. He sends a bright smile in your direction, making a gesture of thanks when he notices the container.
Not wanting to disrupt the class, you and Wooyoung take that as your cue to give a quick wave and leave. Outside, you finally part ways for the day; him heading back to his own place, and you to yours.
But before you can get all the way back home, your phone buzzes with a notification. Wooyoung has sent you a picture.
Curious, you open the file — to find a candid of you that he must have sneakily taken during lunch. It’s a soft scene, enhanced by the rustic atmosphere of the restaurant. Your eyes shine brightly in the photo, filled with enjoyment of the tasty food; your smile is easy and sincere, relaxed in Wooyoung’s company.
You catch yourself smiling back at the photo, oddly touched to have become one of Wooyoung’s subjects. Then your phone buzzes again.
came out nice, right? isnt it good? 😇
You huff in amusement at the text, not surprised anymore at how blatantly he baits for a compliment. For all that Wooyoung loves being degraded, he sure has a hankering for that sweet, sweet praise too.
well im sure the model helped, you tease him, and chuckle fondly when he immediately replies with just a 😠 and nothing else.
genre: smut, fluff-ish, neighbours au, friends with benefits
ch. summary: Hongjoong checks up on how you're doing. San finally gets a proper feel of you without getting chomped by Wooyoung.
wc: 9.5k
ch. warnings: dom San, switch Wooyoung, sub reader, threesome, vaginal fingering / sex, light bondage, creampie, sloppy seconds, cumplay, copious amounts of drool, finger sucking, multiple orgasms, light overstimulation, dirty talk, light dumbification, praise kink (‘cumdump’ is used 1x as praise), condomless sex with IUD, mention of stomach bulge, pet names for reader (‘baby’ and ‘sweet/good girl’), use of ‘yellow’ safe word, aftercare
a/n: features a soft-bodied, aromantic reader who uses she/her pronouns.
additional warning: the opening scene touches on some of reader’s struggles with amatonormativity and (internalised) arophobia. i promise this is not a super angst-heavy story, but that part calls for a little head’s up, i think
“Are they nice?” a slightly distorted voice asks from the video call on your phone.
You snort at the screen, raising an eyebrow at Hongjoong’s critical face. His hair is a bright blue these days, but today he has hidden most of it underneath a fashionable white beret. “Joong, since when do you care if the people I fuck are nice?”
You’ve taken the day off to quietly lounge around the apartment, giving your body some time to rest. It’s nice and relaxing, and your memories of last night are a soothing balm for the soreness of your thighs — a soreness not only caused by Wooyoung’s bites; you have a damn muscle ache from riding his face.
(You have always felt strongly that sex should be exempt from such nonsense but alas, it is a cruel world.)
San will probably be over later; he offered to check in after work, to see if you need anything. You suspect it’s also for his own peace of mind, so you did not try too hard to dissuade him.
But that won’t be for another few hours, so for now it’s just you and Hongjoong; your long-time friend who, ever since he moved away for his dream job at a fashion house, is also your long-distance friend.
Hongjoong rolls his eyes. “I don’t care about ‘nice’ with your onetime hookups, no,” he says, “but it’s been a while since you had something more involved going on.”
“It’s been two times; I’d hardly call that ‘involved’,” you point out, but you know you’re just being contrary for the sake of being contrary. It is getting a bit involved.
Hongjoong knows it too. “Right…” he drawls lazily, resting his chin on his hand, “so you don’t already have a date set for the third round?”
“…”
“That’s what I thought. So. Are they nice, or did you end up with more assholes?”
“I resent the implication that I have bad taste.”
“Not bad taste, just bad judgement. The other asshole was pretty hot.”
“Wow,” you say flatly. “That makes me feel much better, thank you, Joong. Also no, they’re not assholes.”
Last night gave you enough proof of that, if you needed any more. San and Wooyoung had patiently heard out your awkward little ramble. You don’t exactly consider yourself closeted, yet the simple truth is that ‘coming out’ stays an ongoing experience.
But San and Wooyoung took it without fuss; thankfully ‘aromanticism’ was not a new term to them, and they accepted your need for boundaries. If the guys were disappointed by the lack of a romantic prospect, or put off by the suggestion they might want one, they hid it well.
San just listened with an intent expression, brow furrowed. He thanked you for telling them, but also confirmed that yes, they absolutely are open to this becoming a regular thing.
Wooyoung had just asked a straightforward question; “We can still be friends, right?”
And when you answered with an emphatic yes, his follow-up was equally straightforward.
“Alright, so we’ll be friends who fuck. Works for me.”
You had agreed on a few points right after that, and put a pin in a few others. No sleepovers, no kissing outside of sex — yes, yes cuddles afterwards are fine, yes, hugs are always good! — and when you hesitated at Wooyoung’s offer to make you and San dinner sometime, he just told you to think it over.
(In hindsight, you feel silly about that last one. You make plenty of food for your other friends; you like sharing a meal together! It’s not like Wooyoung suggested a romantic candlelight dinner. You’ll have to get back to him on that one.)
“Hey? You still there?” Hongjoong says, waving his hand. “Is the screen frozen or is that you?”
His voice snaps you out of your thoughts, and you blink to shake it off. “Sorry, yeah, that was me,” you say. “But seriously, you don’t have to worry about it. We talked the thing through, I don’t think I’ll be accused of keeping anyone on the hook this time around.”
(You’d think that “I’m not looking for something romantic” would have covered it with the other guy; but some people don’t take a hint even when it hits them over the head with a baguette.)
“So… you’ll be okay?” Hongjoong asks, the scepticism in his voice poorly hidden.
“God, what’s with all the fussing today! I’ve lived next to San for almost a year, I know he’s a nice guy. So is Wooyoung! And you know me; there’s no strings attached. No feelings to get hurt here.”
Hongjoong makes a face of distaste. “No, don’t pull that crap, alright? Don’t blow this shit off,” he says, shaking his head. “Yeah, I know you. So I know that ‘no feelings’ is bullshit. Just because you don’t do romance, doesn’t mean you don’t do any feelings at all. Your strings just happen to look a little different. Sure, you don’t want a lovey dovey boyfriend or two out of this; doesn’t mean you can’t get hurt by them.”
His annoyance lilts over into awkward self-consciousness at the end; Hongjoong knows damn well that you took it hard when he moved to the other side of the country.
(You didn’t resent him for it — how could you, when he was literally chasing his dream? — but it did leave a sting, and you do miss him. Videocalls are nice, but it’s just not the same.)
You wonder how much Hongjoong senses of the things that are hiding between the pieces of what you told him; he is right, you are already getting attached to San and Wooyoung, to their easy companionship and the growing friendship between you. It’d do you good to remember that you don’t know how long this arrangement will last.
Still, you are warmed by how Hongjoong is scolding you; a cornerstone in your friendship. It’s how he shows he cares.
“Okay, okay, you win. I won’t blow it off. But really, it will be fine, Joong,” you say, totally blowing it off. “They’re great, they’re fun, I’m having fun. We’re friends who fuck!” you go on, echoing Wooyoung’s description.
“And you claim you’re not a romantic,” Hongjoong deadpans, but he leaves it be for now. “So. The dick is good, then?”
You snort; now that’s more like the Hongjoong you know. “No idea actually,” you admit (but you’re pretty damn sure it will be.) “The tongue is incredible though.”
“What do you mean, ‘no idea’?!” he says, with a face of incredulous disbelief. “What the hell have you been doing? No, no actually don’t tell me. Keep the specifics to yourself.”
“You’re the one who asked!” you laugh, unsurprised at the way he’s backtracking. Hongjoong always bites off more than he can chew when it comes to the details of your sex life; nosy as fuck, but also appalled whenever you indulge his curiosity a little too much.
“It’s called being a supportive friend. You’re supposed to answer ‘yes, Joong, the dick is fantastic’ and move on,” Hongjoong says, pinching the bridge of his nose; like he is painstakingly explaining advanced mathematics to a toddler, already knowing the futility of his efforts. “Except you’re not getting any, I guess.”
You roll your eyes at him. “Alright, mister. ‘Yes, Joong, the dick will be fantastic’,” you parrot back. “Thank you for asking, my dear supportive friend.”
“See? That’s all you needed to do.”
Just like that, the conversation passes on to other things. Your call doesn’t end until much later, once you and Hongjoong are fully caught up with another’s lives. You’ve even started to plan a long-overdue visit in person; it’s been a while since you had the opportunity to menace Hongjoong with hugs.
You mosey around your apartment, starting up a chore or two and giving up immediately when your body complains too loudly. So you lounge on the couch for the day, and try not to think too much about how Hongjoong had scolded you about disregarding your feelings.
You’re moderately successful at this.
In general, you are perfectly satisfied with the relationships in your life. There is no feeling of ‘missing out’, no hole in your heart that you can’t fill with platonic or familial affection. No craving for ‘more’ than friendship and sex — but you are painfully aware that without a romantic commitment, you usually fall to the wayside in your friends’ list of priorities.
No matter how much you invest on your end, it’s never a given that their long-term plans will include you.
And that? To know that the people most precious to you don’t prioritise you as highly as you do them?
That part does hurt sometimes.
But all these thoughts are completely irrelevant to the situation at hand, or so you firmly remind yourself. It’s like you told Hongjoong, right? This thing with San and Wooyoung is just about having fun together. As long as you keep your expectations in check, you won’t have lied to Hongjoong about whether he needs to worry about you.
Thankfully, your concerns are a fading memory by the time San comes over to check up on you. You really don’t need help with anything, but he stays over to chat anyway.
At the start of everything, you did have some worries about disrupting your neighbourly bond with San — but if anything, you have grown more comfortable with each other. You’ve always been friendly enough, but you never crossed the threshold into actual ‘friends’. A polite, shy distance always held you back.
But now? The shyness has been thoroughly scrubbed off of you both.
So you enthusiastically tell him about your plans to meet up with Hongjoong, and he proudly tells you about his students’ progress. There is always a glow about San when he talks about ‘his’ kids, and you listen and watch fondly as he gives an energetic demonstration of the new kicking drills he’s been teaching them.
(He is adamant to teach you too; which you try to refuse at first, considering the state of your muscles. But there is no force in the world that can withstand the strength of San’s pout — so you make a brave effort. It’s absolutely worth the spike in soreness when San laughs with crescent eyes at your disastrous attempt.)
“Hey, about next weekend,” San starts, just when he is about to leave. His hand rests on the doorframe, and his cheery demeanour fades. He raises his eyebrow just slightly — a quiet intensity taking over. “You said you’ve dabbled with bondage before, right? Just curious, how do you feel about getting tied up this time around, instead of Wooyoung?”
Your chest jolts at the mention of Wooyoung tied up, plunging you back into memories of last night.
The leather handcuffs made a return for his punishment, looped around the slats of the headboard. It exposed Wooyoung’s chest for San to give him a taste of his own toothy medicine. Wooyoung had shuddered and gasped at every hard bite, whimpering while San used his skin as a canvas to paint with red marks and bruises. Tears and sweat had streamed down Wooyoung’s face as San stretched him with deft, practised fingers, milking his prostate until Wooyoung was completely dry and trembling, his torso covered with his own cum.
You also remember the dopey smile on Wooyoung’s face after he came down from the onslaught of his ‘punishment’, grinning tiredly when San undid his cuffs.
(Because no matter how San punishes him, you doubt any lessons are ever learned. Taming Wooyoung seems to be a hopeless endeavour.)
“Did I do well?” he’d asked eagerly, still a little drunk on pain and overstimulation.
“You did so good,” San had assured him, wiping his forehead to press a kiss there.
“Hm. You too,” Wooyoung had mumbled, not letting his exhaustion stop him from lavishing San with praise.
Praising San is part of his aftercare, you know now. Like a soft cushion for San to land on after a rough session. Confirmation that every degrading word spoken, every flash of pain inflicted, had been for the pleasure of his partner.
The trust between them is truly something special — and by asking you about bondage, San has indirectly asked you a second question, hidden deeper underneath; do you trust him as well? Enough to leave yourself completely in his and Wooyoung’s hands?
You know that San would back down and drop the subject without another word if you said no, and that seals the deal for you.
“Yes. Good. I feel good about that,” you say, with warm confidence.
He grins, his lips carrying that dangerous cocky edge that you’re getting real familiar with. “Great. We’ll properly talk it through later, alright? Then maybe we can have some fun with that.”
Of that, you have no doubt.
San’s lips are pursed in concentration, drawing them into an adorable little pout. He is clearly practised with the linen rope in his hands, but still takes the utmost care as he ties your wrists together. He makes a point of checking your comfort, and tests whether the knots slip and if the doubled ropes are tensioned evenly. There is a pair of safety shears on the nightstand.
You are gathered in Wooyoung’s arms, who sits against the headboard of the bed. While you watch San intently, Wooyoung is more interested in plying your neck with impatient kisses, his hands running restlessly across your bare body.
Wooyoung is dressed casual in a simple dark grey shirt, the material soft against your skin, while his trousers do nothing to hide the first hints of a growing bulge. San also opted for the casual look, wearing a tight black t-shirt and fitted jeans. The contrast with your own nakedness makes you fidgety, itching to pull at their clothes; but your incapacitated hands leave you with no choice but to wait.
“There,” San says, finally satisfied with his knots. “Now, what did I tell you?”
“Any tingling, pain, numbness; anything feels wrong, and I say the word. ‘Red’,” you obediently repeat back to him, trying not to get distracted by Wooyoung’s hands squeezing at your thighs.
“Or?” San presses.
“Or if I just want them off. If they don’t feel good anymore.”
You find that hard to imagine; the linen rope is softer than you expected, and already a fuzzy smile plays on your lips. It’s not your first time getting tied up, but the fact that you’re with San and Wooyoung breathes fresh excitement into the situation.
“Exactly. Good girl,” San praises, cupping your chin with a soft brush of his fingers. You melt into his gentle touch with a content moan, nuzzling into his palm.
The ropework is not excessively restrictive; your hands are tied in front of you, giving you some freedom of movement and putting minimal pressure on your joints — but San wanted to ‘start off easy’.
You whine a little when San pulls away, but he raises an eyebrow at you.
Just a small, simple gesture, barely a warning; yet you instinctively quiet down at the sight, already sinking into hazy surrender. Satisfied, San takes your bound arms and hooks them behind Wooyoung’s head.
“Wooyoung?” San says, who glances up from kissing your neck. “Have fun.”
Wooyoung’s grin spreads against your skin. “Oh, we will, won’t we?” he coos at you, his voice alive with anticipation. His hand trails further inward. “I’ll be so good to you, don’t you worry.”
You shudder when his fingers delve between your folds, and Wooyoung’s breath picks up as he slowly spreads the growing arousal around your clit. His teeth graze against your shoulder, red hair tickling your cheek, and you try to angle your hands to grasp at the strands. He moans eagerly when you find a grip, and his fingers pick up speed as they get soaked with your juices.
San has his hands on your knees to keep them apart, watching you with dark eyes. You burn under his gaze, your breath hitching when his eyes keep wandering from your face down to your cunt, his jaw clenching at the sight of Wooyoung toying with your clit.
“Gonna be so nice to you today,” Wooyoung groans against your neck. “Promised San that I’d behave with you tied up for us; get you all ready to take his cock. You’ll need it, Sannie is being sweet to you now but once he sinks into that tight pussy? Fuck, he’ll want to ruin you so bad, I just know it.”
He giggles when you whimper in response, dipping a finger inside your already slick entrance. San’s hold on your knees tightens.
“Yeah, you want San to ruin you, don’t you?” Wooyoung rasps, and laps up a bead of sweat on your neck with a thick swipe of his tongue. He is getting antsy, his voice tight with barely held back excitement.
“Then I’ll get you ready for him, baby. Stretch you out nice and proper so he can bury that thick cock inside you as hard and deep as he wants. Ahh, he will fuck you so well, you’ll be good to him too, won’t you? Gush all over him when you cum, just like you did on my face. I can still taste you when I close my eyes, fuck, aren’t I taking good care of you? Listen to that sound. Getting so wet…”
Wooyoung groans at the squelch of you, sliding in a second finger alongside the first. You pant at the intrusion, thighs flexing against San’s grip, your head spinning from the endless stream of filth spilling from Wooyoung’s lips.
“Don’t even need to put my mouth on you, just my fingers is enough to turn you into a mess,” Wooyoung babbles, leaving sharp nips on the places where your skin glistens with his saliva. “But you’d be dripping right now even without my fingers, wouldn’t you? Can’t wait to have this leaking pussy stuffed with cock, greedy thing that you are. So wound up at the thought of San fucking you dumb.”
“S-shit,” you stutter, clenching around Wooyoung’s fingers. San bites back a quiet groan and his eyes catch yours, full of sharp intent.
Wooyoung grins, his free hand squeezing at your breast. “Maybe I could take a turn after, hm? Fuck his cum deeper into your hole after he fills you up. Make sure you carry it around for days. You’d like that?”
A moan breaks on your tongue, your back arching into his touch. Wooyoung sighs happily, nibbling at your earlobe.
“Fuck, yeah I knew you’d like that,” he mumbles eagerly, curving his fingers inside you. You jolt when Wooyoung finds what he’s looking for; and he hones in immediately, massaging electricity into the spongy bundle of nerves. He groans as your hips cant into his touch, sparks flashing with every press of his fingertips.
“Can I, Sannie? Can I get a turn?” He almost stumbles over the words in his enthusiasm. “I’m being good, aren’t I?”
You whimper at how hungrily Wooyoung chases after praise rather than degradation, now that you are bound and left to his whims. So eager to know that he is taking proper care of you — and he is. Skilled fingers draw gaspy moans from you as he drives up the tight pressure in your abdomen, coiling rapidly.
(You had okay-ed it beforehand for Wooyoung to fuck you, of course, but your permission is not the only one he needs.)
San’s eyebrows quirk at Wooyoung’s question, teeth flashing as his lips pull into a crooked smile. He does not answer; instead he leans in closer. His presence is solid and imposing, and you bite down a swear when his hand joins Wooyoung’s between your thighs.
“In a sharing mood today, Woo?” San asks, grabbing Wooyoung’s chin in a firm hold. Down against your cunt, his index finger rubs slow circles around your swollen clit. “Let me have a feel this time?”
Wooyoung just whines, nodding his head. He is so pliant today — perhaps San’s punishment has done more to (temporarily) mellow Wooyoung out than you had given him credit for.
“Good boy,” San purrs, and pulls him into a kiss. His finger experimentally presses against Wooyoung’s two buried in your twitching hole, then slides in to find a home alongside them.
You let out a throttled moan as you clench around the added stretch, arms pulling against the rope. San makes a point of taking it slow, giving you time to adjust while Wooyoung continues to curl his fingers inside you, but he quickly picks up his pace as the slide gets easier. Your thighs are slick with arousal, their fingers drawing obscene noises from your cunt and your lips as they work in tandem to scissor you open. Your head falls against Wooyoung’s shoulder, gasping for breath and eyes starting to roll back.
Meanwhile San licks messily into Wooyoung’s mouth, jaws shifting as their tongues entangle. Wooyoung whimpers against San, rocking his hips into you; pushing his hard cock into your lower back. You try to match his rut, but Wooyoung and San’s finger-fucking makes any controlled movement on your part a near-impossibility. They never let up during all this; if anything, their fingers pick up speed, like the desperate urgency of their sloppy kiss floods over into you.
San detaches his lips from Wooyoung when he realises how close you are. He presses his free hand against your shaking knee to hold you open, his thumb drawing soothing circles into the skin as your vision starts to blur. Wooyoung nuzzles into the crook of your shoulder with a groan, his breath scorching. His free hand finds your clit, and the circles he draws are anything but soothing.
“Ahh, Woo is being good to you, isn’t he?” San murmurs, his lips ghosting across your jawline. You can only whine your agreement, trembling as you inch closer and closer to the brink. “Maybe he does deserve a turn,” San contemplates with a quiet moan, his mouth finding yours in a faded shadow of a kiss. “If you can still handle it, after I am done with you.”
San’s words spur Wooyoung on, his thumb pressing down harder.
“F-fuck,” you moan, toes curling as the world starts to tilt. “There, right there, W-Woo—”
His name ends in a strangled sob, your hips bucking into their hands as pleasure crashes down on you. Your legs try to clamp shut but San blocks one with his body, the other with his hand still on your knee. He slides his finger out of your twitching cunt while Wooyoung’s slow to a lazy crawl, easing you through your high.
San lifts his glistening finger up to get a taste, and groans lowly as he sucks indulgently at the slick. He releases it with a wet smack, licking his lips. “Hm, no wonder Wooyoung got so worked up over this pussy.”
“Told you,” Wooyoung mumbles between open-mouthed kisses on your shoulder, the pads of his fingers still slowly rubbing into that sensitive patch of nerves. He giggles when you start to squirm against him, and playfully bites at your incapacitated arm. His fingers pull out, leaving you unsatisfyingly empty.
“I think you’re ready, don’t you?” he grins, and reaches to carefully manoeuvre your hands back in front of you. His fingers leave a sticky patch of your own juices smeared on your forearm. “All stretched and sopping wet for Sannie’s cock. I’ll watch this time, let you have an audience for a change.”
You moan at the excited buzz in Wooyoung’s voice, but San gives him an unimpressed look.
“You’re not an audience, you’re a heckler,” he says, a pout on his lips that he seems unaware of. He pulls off his shirt in one smooth motion and throws it aside, muscles rippling.
Wooyoung laughs in surprise, his good mood inextinguishable. “Hey, don’t be like that!” he says, waving a hand at San. “It’s a special occasion today, I’m on my best behaviour!”
San just ignores him, continuing to take off his clothes. He shifts to sit back on his knees, legs spread — but instead of making quick work of his pants, San takes his time. Your breath hitches when he runs a slow hand up his inner thigh, the thick muscle wrapped snugly in his fitted jeans.
He oozes confidence, his face filled with complete focus. San bites his lip when he cups his bulge, squeezing it before moving on to undo the button and zipper. His hips tilt forward as he hooks his thumb under the waistband of his jeans and boxers, pulling them both down until he can wrap a hand around his leaking cock, giving it a few strokes just for good measure.
Entranced, you watch how San’s eyes flutter shut as he rocks into his palm. Your hips move on their own accord, pushing back into Wooyoung’s clothed cock.
He groans right beside your ear, gripping your waist tightly. “Careful there, baby,” Wooyoung says, breathy. “Or my best behaviour won’t last.”
San’s eyes flash open, and he grins at the needy look on your face, how you squirm in Wooyoung’s arms at the sight of him.
“You know, I was gonna take it easy on you tonight,” he says, releasing his cock to shuck off his pants and underwear. “Spoil you, take it nice and sweet…”
Your breath hitches as he grabs onto your hips, pulling you out of Wooyoung’s arms. San pushes down on your shoulder, guiding you to lay flat on your back. Heat envelops you as his body presses against yours, immediately giving a smooth roll of his hips, cock sliding through your wet folds. Your bound hands are trapped between your chest and his, and you can feel his heartbeat, pounding harder than his self-control would lead you to believe.
“But… Wooyoungie is right, isn’t he?” San takes your hands and raises them above your head. He leans in to brush his nose against yours, his breath falling hot on your lips. “You don’t want me to take it easy.”
You shake your head with a whine, trying to arch up into a kiss. Your arms strain against San’s iron hold on your wrist; there is no give at all.
San chuckles at your hungered response. “Yeah, I should have known better,” he says, his hips grinding a little firmer against yours. “That first night, I saw the way you watched me fuck Wooyoung. Three fingers inside you and it still wasn’t enough was it? Still needed more. Even then, you couldn’t wait for that greedy cunt to get split open on my cock.”
And yet he won’t push inside you, taunting with his slow thrusts. The underside of his cock drags against your clit in delicious friction, but you need more. “S-San, please—”
“See?” he says with a grin, and sucks a rough kiss into your neck. “So fucking hungry for it. Want me to fuck you just as hard as I fucked him, hm? Until you can’t do anything but lie there and take it. Stuffed so full with my cum there’s no room for even a single thought inside that pretty head of yours. Was Wooyoung right about that, too? Want to get fucked dumb?”
There is a teasing lilt to San’s voice; he asks it like you’re a little slow already — which you are. You moan shamelessly, wrapping a leg around his waist in an attempt to guide him inside. The effort is completely in vain.
“Gonna need you to tell me, baby,” San insists, nipping at your earlobe. “Do you want me to fuck you until you’re dumb on my cock?”
(You can’t tell whether he is taunting you again, or confirming that you are still on board with rougher treatment. Either way, his question drives a spike of heat in your already throbbing cunt.)
“Hngh, yes, yes—! P-please,” you hiccup, “please, San. F-fuck me dumb. Stuff me until I can’t think, can’t think of anything but your cock filling me up, f-fuck—”
San grunts a strained curse, unable to hide how much your begging riles him up. Finally, finally, he grabs his cock, flushed dark and leaking, and guides it inside you. The stretch is manageable after his and Wooyoung’s extensive prep, but your jaw still falls slack at how he opens you up, tortuously slow.
“S-San, mmmh, n-need more, please—”
He hushes you with a soft, shallow kiss, though a tense vein bulges in his neck. “Shh, be our good girl a little longer, okay? We’ll get there, I promise. Wanna make this good for you.”
“It-it’s good, feels so good,” you whimper, uselessly straining your hands against the rope and San’s hold. “I just—”
His dick twitches inside you, and San presses his mouth against yours more solidly, teasing your lips apart to soak up every shaky moan as he bottoms out. “I got you, baby,” he pants. “Gonna give it all to you. Wooyoung?”
“Yeah,” Wooyoung says, his voice strained. You glance up, and realise that somehow he has taken off his shirt without you noticing. His trousers are undone just enough to stroke himself through his underwear; there is a damp spot in the crotch.
Wooyoung shifts closer at San’s call. He half sits, half lays down with his legs folded up beside him, and leans over you to plant one hand firmly into the mattress; right underneath your bound wrists, blocking your movement. Wooyoung’s dick strains against his underwear right at your eye-level, and his grin widens when that is exactly where your eyes go.
“One at the time, baby,” he teases, giving himself a firm squeeze. “At least for today.”
You suck in a breath at the suggestion, sparks ricocheting in your stomach. Fuck. You’re not even sure yet how you’ll handle San’s rather substantial girth, once he starts fucking you in earnest, yet the idea of taking them both at once has you clamping around him. San groans lowly, the sound ending in a hoarse chuckle. “Ohh, she likes that, Woo.”
Wooyoung rolls his eyes. “Of course she does. Now, are you going to fuck her or not?”
(Thank god, someone is asking the important questions around here.)
“San…” you moan weakly. You are primed for him to use every ounce of his strength and fuck you until you see stars; the snug fit of his cock buried in your core is intoxicating, yet maddeningly frustrating without any friction. “Please, need you…”
His endless teasing and refusal to move is driving you up the wall; you’re aching to grab onto him, to claw at his back and twist your fingers in his hair to yank him into a kiss — but Wooyoung’s arm blocks your hands from touching San, and San has your hips pinned onto the bed. There is nothing you can do but surrender to his inclinations. He’ll fuck you when he decides to fuck you.
But Wooyoung’s lips curl up with mischief, a sharp glint in his eyes.
“Ah…” he says, like some deep, secret revelation has come to him. He looks down at you, using his free hand to brush along your jawline. “Unless maybe our Sannie is worried that his cock alone won’t be enough for you anymore, now you’ve gotten a scent of more. Nothing but a double stuffing will do for our sweet, greedy girl.”
You sob in desperation, squirming against San’s hold. Already your thoughts are getting lost in a hazy fog, too addled and tongue-tied to object to Wooyoung’s taunt; so you completely miss how San’s jaw ticks at his boyfriend’s mocking jab. You only whine when San pulls out until just the tip teases at your entrance, and are entirely unprepared when he slams back in — then immediately thrusts again, hitting deep inside your gut.
The force rips a loud cry from your throat, your fingers clawing at Wooyoung’s arm as sudden pleasure floods your system. Your eyes roll back at the drag of San’s cock against your pulsing walls, a thin trail of saliva escaping the corner of your parted lips.
San grins smugly at your response, bucking into you like it costs no effort at all to fuck you to pieces. He raises an eyebrow at Wooyoung. “Worried?” he scorns, his hands digging into the soft meat of your sides to yank you up to meet his pelvis. “No, Wooyoung, not worried at all. Maybe you should be, having to follow up on me wrecking this sweet pussy.”
But Wooyoung barely seems to hear him, entranced by the sight of your sopping cunt stretching around San’s cock, squelching obscenely every time you suck in his thick length.
San quickly proves his confidence earned. You gasp for pitched breaths, moaning helplessly as the bed rattles with every sharp snap of his hips.
Because that, you soon realise, is the thing about getting fucked by Choi San; you can happily report to Hongjoong that the dick is fantastic — but it’s the hips that are life-ruining.
And San is unrelenting as he drives into you over and over again; balls slapping against your ass, his own breath becoming ragged. You try to move with him, but the attempt is futile as San jostles you around, his grip on your sides like iron. He is in complete control. Sweat drips down his temple, across his jaw to his chin, until it falls into the valley between your breasts to blend with the beads of your own sweat gathered there.
“How are you doing, baby?” he asks, almost condescending in the certainty of his answer.
But you can only answer in a pathetic mewl, writhing underneath him as he fucks a white heat of pleasure into your core.
San chuckles darkly. “What’s this? I barely got started and you’re already dumb on my cock? Fuck, but you are taking me so well. So fucking wet for me… You wanted my cock so bad? Now take it.”
His thumb slides inward, pressing against the weeping mess that is your pussy. Sweat and slick soaks into the sheets but San pays it no mind, only caring about drawing more depraved sounds from your slack mouth. He does it so easily, the combination of his thumb on your clit and those brutal slams of his hips overwhelming your inhibitions. The building pressure in your cunt sharpens, honing in on the apex of release.
Another especially hard thrust causes a fresh spill of drool past your lips, and Wooyoung catches it on his fingers. He grins as he examines the glistening shine, and for a moment you think Wooyoung is going to suck his fingers into his mouth — but instead he offers them to San, who hungrily accepts.
Without letting up on his fanatical pace, San’s eyes flutter shut as he moans around Wooyoung’s fingers. He bits his lip when Wooyoung slides out again, and then cups San’s cheek to spread saliva across his face. “Brat,” San pants with heavy-lidded eyes, though he does not look in the least upset.
“Yeah,” Wooyoung says with a grin, and leans in to peck San on his glossy cheek. “Now make her cum so I can watch, alright?”
“Woo…” San sighs an exasperated warning at Wooyoung’s brazen order, his rhythm slowing — and the loss of force threatens to take you away from the edge you were rushing towards, your orgasm receding out of reach.
“N-no, San—” you whimper desperately. “So close, s-so fucking close, please, wanna cum, let me cum, please—”
Wooyoung’s expression goes wicked at your pleading, delighted to have caught San between the choice of punishing him or pleasing you… or so he thinks.
Instead of showing any conflicted feelings, San just rolls his eyes and tsks, then leans down to smother your mouth in an aggressive kiss. This way, his hand is trapped between your stomach and his; but he can still press against your clit, the nub shifting underneath his thumb as he picks up his pace again, pistoning into you with reckless abandon.
And in this position? Wooyoung’s view of your face and cunt are almost completely blocked off.
“Sa-aan,” Wooyoung complaints, trying to pull San back up — but it’s like San doesn’t even notice Wooyoung, his tongue hungry as he sloppily kisses you. His spit freely spills into your mouth, dribbling past your lips when you gurgle out a wet moan.
Their petty behaviour over you just works you up further, and the orgasm that was almost denied you comes surging back all at once, violent and overwhelming as it rips through you.
San swallows up your loud cry like he does not want Wooyoung to even hear it, pressing a firm hand down on your hips to keep you in place when you convulse and clamp around him. He stops his brutal pounding, instead circling his pelvis as he stays deep inside you through your release. Wooyoung is still blocking your arms from moving, but your legs lock around San’s waist and he groans as you clench with every ripple of electricity.
His breath comes in harsh inhales, and San releases your mouth with a whine to bite at your shoulder, all his muscles tensing to gather every ounce of willpower not to cum right with you.
Your moans grow weaker as the strength slips away from your body, the aftermath of your intense orgasm leaving you boneless and exhausted. Wooyoung stares down at you, and an agitated excitement burns behind his blown eyes.
San relaxes when your body sags underneath him, sweetly lapping at the bite he left on your shoulder. “Such a good girl,” he purrs, dragging his nose up your neck to press a kiss on your jaw. “Doing so well for me. Are you alright to keep going, hm? Want to make Wooyoung wait a little longer with me? Give me a colour.” San’s voice changes a little at those last words; not lavishing you with praise or teasing Wooyoung anymore, but giving you an honest command.
(You hear Wooyoung make a noise at San’s comment, but he quiets at the call for colour.)
You take a deep, shaky breath to steady yourself. “Green,” you answer, meeting San’s intense gaze. “W-want you to cum inside me. I’m okay, j-just… let me hold you?”
San’s eyes go soft, and he motions for Wooyoung to let you move your arms.
Despite his earlier mood, Wooyoung obediently pulls his hand away. (Because you asked for it, not San, or so you suspect. He does give your wrist a light squeeze first, like he is loath to let go.)
San takes a moment to check the ropes, and helps you sling your bound arms around his neck when he’s satisfied with what he sees. Your fingers grasp at the sweaty dark hair at the nape, and immediately you feel more secure, more anchored, sighing when San leans in for a light kiss.
“There you go,” San murmurs against your lips, giving an experimental slow roll of his hips. “Is that better?”
You whimper at the slide of his cock against your fluttering walls — but frantically nod your head, worried San might take your noise as a negative. “Y-yes, so good. Feels so good.”
He lets out a strained chuckle at your enthusiasm, biting his lip as the speed of his thrusts pick up again. His previously deep and smooth rolls soon degrade to nothing but a frantic rut, focused on his own release. To fill you up exactly like you’d asked.
And although you are too wired to get yourself back to that edge this time around, San’s increasingly desperate and pitchy moans get you high nonetheless. His rhythm crumbles down further every time he buries himself in your cunt, his head dropping down against your shoulder, rough grunts falling on your heated skin.
“Got one more for me?” he asks, whines, and reaches for your clit again.
It is tempting, so fucking tempting to let San push you in and through the needling high of overstimulation, but you hiss as he makes contact and shake your head. “No, n-no. Yellow, yellow,” you slur out, the colour system still fresh in your mind from San’s earlier check. “C-can’t, hmnh—”
As much as you usually revel in the thrill of seeking out the furthest edges of your limits; there is no way in hell that you’ll have the stamina to keep going with Wooyoung if San makes you cum again right now.
San immediately pulls his hand back, switching gears as he simply grabs onto your waist again. “Happy just to be used by me, hm?” San hums against your ear, nipping at your lobe. “Asking for nothing except to get stuffed full. How lucky am I to have such a sweet, pretty cumdump.”
(Your stomach jolts with surprised pleasure; San has been encouraging you to share whatever preferences and fantasies you feel comfortable sharing, but you did not expect him to dip into this side of your praise kink tonight, with all his initial talk of slow and sweet. But obviously he is becoming more comfortable to improvise with you, and pull from his growing knowledge of your pleasure points.
Already you’ve come a long way from the San who refused to let Wooyoung eat you out — and you are still getting to know one another. That in itself is a feverishly exciting thought.)
“Yes, yes Sannie, please,” you babble, his affectionate degradation flaring hotly inside you. “Give it to me, please, fill me up— I want it, want it, want it—”
“Fuck, fuck, hang on, baby, fuck,” San says, cracks fracturing his voice and composure when you squeeze encouragingly around him. It only takes a few more rough, frantic bucks of his hips before he cums with a broken moan, painting your fluttering walls with ropes of hot, sticky seed.
You groan in satisfaction as San stills inside you, your bound fingers running through his hair best you can. He rocks into you a little longer with small, whiny noises, milking himself with your plush cunt until his arms tremble and his breath comes in tight moans.
“That’s it,” you murmur to him, “being so good to me, giving me everything.” You play with the sweaty strands of hair as he slowly recovers; which gives you a moment to recover as well. Your walls still twitch around San, overly sensitive, but the sharpest edge is wearing down.
Wooyoung’s hand joins yours in San’s hair, but there is a quiver to his fingers as he gently strokes his boyfriend’s head.
You glance up to Wooyoung, and see he has pushed down his trousers and underwear enough to expose his veiny, rock-hard dick. There is an angry flush to the leaking tip, and Wooyoung’s entire body looks like it’s pulled taut, ready to snap.
“Wooyoung…”
He swallows thickly at the call of his name, teeth digging into his bottom lip. He squeezes your hand, sensing the concern in your voice.
“I’m good,” Wooyoung strains. “H-hurts, but it’s good. I’m fucking good, baby. I-is it my turn now?” he ends on a whine.
San pulls out with a grunt, and you moan at the sudden emptiness as he slides off of you, onto the bed on the opposite side of Wooyoung. He is still catching his breath, sweat beading in his hairline. You give San a questioning look, but he just grins back. “Your call,” he says. “Is it his turn?”
Wooyoung restlessly pats at your hair, desperation shining in his eyes from unshed tears. But his expression is feverish, borderline feral; all that holds him back from pouncing you is a razor-thin wire of restraint tied to your consent.
You give it to him.
“Yeah, your turn,” you say, breathy, and bring your bound hands down to your cunt, smearing your fingers through the mixture of arousal and the slow dribble of San’s leaking seed. “You promised me, right? Was gonna make me feel San’s cum for days. Wanna feel you too…”
Wooyoung chokes back a whimper, his hips stuttering; and for a moment you think he is going to cum without his cock ever touching your waiting cunt.
But he manages to regain himself and, with ragged breaths, he kicks off his pants and underwear. Once his clothes are discarded, Wooyoung scrambles to lay down next to you. His touch is roughened by impatience, and you squeak in surprise when Wooyoung turns you onto your side, facing San, and hooks your leg back around him.
Before you get a chance to worry about more of San’s cum spilling out, Wooyoung’s cock pushes into your wet hole. He whines as he plugs you up, holding you close against him and teething at your neck. “Fuck, but this pussy is so fucking sweet,” he groans, shaky as he grinds against your ass. “Feels just as good as it tastes. Wanna make such a mess of you.”
“D-do it,” you challenge him, turning your head in an attempt to find his lips. “Mess me up, fuck, Wooyoungie…”
Wooyoung’s cock might not be as thick as San’s, but his length hits deliciously inside you, a toe-curling slide that is just what your raw and tender cunt needs right now. “Gonna fuck Sannie’s cum so deep you can taste him, promise,” Wooyoung babbles, sucking hungrily at your skin. “Aren’t I so much nicer than him? I am letting him watch.”
San scoffs. “Like that’s not for your own benefit,” he says, though his eyes are hard while he does watch how his own seed slowly leaks from your pussy between thrusts, dislodged by Wooyoung’s sloppy thrusts. “We all know how much putting on a show gets you off.”
Wooyoung ignores him, too caught up in the thrill of finally having some relief for his painfully neglected cock.
“Look at San,” he tells you, his mouth wet against your ear. “Look how fucked out he is from pumping your cunt full. Wanted to stay buried in this warm pussy for as long as he could, didn’t he?”
You moan when San’s gaze snaps up to meet your eyes; ‘fucked out’ barely covers it. He looks as ruined as you feel, lips plump from the force of his kisses and every inch of skin glistening with sweat, his broad chest rising with every breathless pull for air, punctuated by soft moans. His eyes are slightly unfocused but still he watches with quiet intensity, like he already can’t wait to bury himself into you all over again.
San takes your bound hands and lifts them up to his puffy lips. You expect a kiss — but teeth nip your skin instead, San’s hazy eyes dangerous as he bites at your knuckles, one by one.
You squirm at the gentle stings of pain, and Wooyoung lets out another drawn-out whine as you clench tighter around him. His hand shakily inches downward, but he grunts and yanks it back when he remembers your earlier limit. Desperately, you shake your head, arching into his touch.
“No, n-no, I—” you moan, wiggling your ass into him. Heat is coiling in your abdomen again, dizzying your tongue into slurred speech. “I, hngh, I can go again, please, please, mmmhh fuck, want you to touch me, Wooyoung, ahh—”
And Wooyoung — fucking menace that he is — even when balancing on the very brink himself; Wooyoung can’t resist being a little shit about it. “Touch you where, baby?” he pants, like he isn’t about to bust his load in your aching cunt. “Tell me where you need my fingers, then I’ll give it to you. Tell me exactly.”
With San holding onto your wrists, you can hardly force Wooyoung’s hands where you want them, so you have no choice but to give voice to your feverish desperation aloud. “P-pussy. Need you to touch my pussy.”
“That it? Nothing more… specific?” he asks with a salacious grin, running a single finger through your messy folds, cruelly bypassing the swollen nub that is begging for attention.
“Clit,” you sob, twisting against him. “Put your fingers on my clit and make me cu-uuhmm—!”
Wooyoung sighs in bliss, obediently rolling your clit between thumb and forefinger. They’re soon coated in an obscene slick, a mixture of San’s seed and your own smeared arousal. Your choked up whimpers can’t quite cover the wet noises of Wooyoung’s efforts, his fingers and cock making an even bigger mess of you. San watches silently how fluids drip from your thighs onto his already soaked sheets, something primal cutting through the exhaustion in his eyes.
Predictably, Wooyoung does not last long; especially now that you are clamping around his dick, your cunt instinctively trying to keep him embedded deep inside you. He burrows his face into your shoulder, biting down on the exact same spot that San had earlier.
You hiss at how it smarts, but the sound morphs into a pleased moan when Wooyoung cums hard. His hips jerk as he empties with generous spurts of hot whiteness, leaving you feeling so floaty and full, satisfied and swollen — you wonder if you’d feel the protrusion of Wooyoung’s cock and their combined seed, if your hands were free to press against your stomach.
But Wooyoung quickly pulls out with a pained whine, too sensitive to even simply stay inside you. Immediately his cum starts to drip out; except San is right there to gather his and Wooyoung’s seed on two fingers. He shoves them back inside you without delay, keeping you beautifully stuffed while Wooyoung frantically works your clit.
Wooyoung covers your cheek, jaw and ear with hard kisses, and whispers filthy encouragements as you begin to shake and tremble uncontrollably. San curls his fingers inside you, Wooyoung pinches sharply at your clit — and he grins against your cheek when you shatter apart with a wretched sob.
“That’s it,” he coos smugly as sparks sear through you like a shockwave. “Took it all so well, milking us for all we got. Been keeping San’s cum so nice and warm for us, making room for me too. Want a taste of what we stuffed you full with?”
You’re still trembling in Wooyoung’s hold, whimpering through the persistent spikes of pleasure while he continues to rub stubborn circles on your clit. The surges slowly grow weaker but they linger, and you are unable to do anything but make a sniffling noise that you hope gets your needs across.
San seems to pick up on it, sliding his fingers out your weeping hole. But before he lets you have that taste, his fingers smear across your lips, leaving a glossy stain. Wooyoung groans at the sight and can’t resist, sucking at your bottom lip to steal the mixture of fluids away from you. You whine in protest, though you do miss his mouth when he pulls away with a playful bite.
You can’t miss him for long; San nudges his fingers past your lips, presses them down on your tongue, and your eyes roll back as you finally taste Wooyoung, San and yourself. Hungrily you suckle at his fingers, letting out a small whimper when Wooyoung dips into your cunt and takes another swipe for himself.
San’s breath shallows as your tongue swirls around him, a light flush creeping up his cheeks. You wonder if he’s thinking about how your mouth would feel on his cock. You certainly are.
…That is for another time though, when you are not exhausted to the bone, fighting the urge to curl up and fall asleep on the spot. (Right now, it’s very hard to remember why you insisted on a ‘no sleepovers’ rule.)
San slips his fingers out when you and Wooyoung both quiet down, and turns his attention to your wrists. “Let’s get these off of you,” he says gently, tapping the rope.
San and Wooyoung help you to sit upright against the headboard, and this time Wooyoung is the one to get you some water while San begins to expertly loosen the knots.
“How are you feeling?” he asks, glancing up at you. His gaze is still intense, though now also soft.
“No numbness, tingling feeling or pain,” you say in a tired sigh, reciting back the points he told you to be aware of. “Well… no pain there,” you chuckle. “Think I’ll be sore in some places tomorrow. But I don’t mind that. Not at all.”
“Hm, good,” San hums, and directs his focus back to your restraints. Silence falls between you, not even broken when Wooyoung returns by your side and carefully raises the glass of water to your lips, assisting you with taking slow sips. The ropes come undone — but San does not let you go just yet, taking his time to gently massage your wrists for circulation.
You look down on San’s thumbs rubbing into your skin, your thoughts winding back over the course of the evening. Suddenly you feel oddly vulnerable; even with San’s careful touch, and Wooyoung sidling up next to you after he set the glass away, throwing an arm around your shoulder.
Wooyoung grins and pinches at San’s cheek, praising him for taking such good care of you. San’s lips spread into that sweet shy smile, his eyes shining warmly when he quickly glances to you and Wooyoung. It’s safe and comfortable around them, a happy fuzz coating your memories; yet you can’t help a pinch of self-consciousness as you think back on one particular moment of the evening.
“Did I do okay?” you ask, feeling silly even as the question slips past your lips.
San’s eyes widen slightly, his hands stilling, while Wooyoung’s arm tightens around you and he immediately turns his praises on you. Of course you did well, he assures you. What a fucking champ, taking it all like that. Their good girl. How lucky they are with you.
You bite your lip in a small smile as Wooyoung’s words hum sweetly through your veins, but San frowns in concern.
“Did something happen?” he asks, still gentle but a firmness layered underneath. “Something worrying you?”
“Well—” you say, already feeling awkward. “I said ‘yellow’…”
“As you should have,” San says, even firmer this time. “Are you feeling guilty about that?”
“A little,” you admit; the people-pleaser inside you is a bit ruffled by bluntly asserting a boundary. “I know I shouldn’t, but— but I kinda feel like I should apologise.”
San shakes his head and squeezes your hands tightly. “Don’t you dare. If anything, I should say thank you. For helping me to keep you safe and feeling good. That makes it feel good for me too.” He breaks out another smile, his dimples joining in. “I felt good today. I hope you did too.”
“He really means all that, you know,” Wooyoung chimes in. “About thanking you. Never met anyone who cares more about this stuff than San here.” He leans in, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial hush. “I swear, he almost nutted on the spot the first time I yellow-ed him.”
“You’re never gonna let that go, are you?” San says, rolling his eyes with a flustered flush burning across his face, and you relax with a giggle at their familiar bickering and warm reassurances. “I mean,” San mumbles sheepishly, “ideally you’d never have to use a safe word at all; but as convenient as it’d be in a situation like this, I can’t exactly read your mind—”
“Hey, hey,” Wooyoung cuts off San’s ramble with a laugh. “C’mon, you know I’m just teasing!” He grabs San’s chin to smack an exaggeratedly wet kiss on his cheek. “You’re the fucking best. Who needs a mind reader when we’re doing this together. You got our back, we got yours.”
San sighs in resignation, trapped by Wooyoung’s firm grip on his chin as Wooyoung makes a show of lavishing his face with loud, dramatic kisses — but you don’t miss the way his shoulders release tension, and his hands relax around yours.
You feel a bloom of warmth at the obvious fondness on display in front of you, and your guilt fades.
Finally Wooyoung lets San go free and cuddles up a little closer against you, while San presses up on the other side. Sandwiched between them, you blissfully surrender yourself to their attentive aftercare. And once you feel solid enough to move again, they both insist on escorting you the whole thirty paces from San’s bedroom to yours.
The gesture is excessive and unnecessary to the point of being silly. You burst with friendly affection for them.
genre: smut, fluff-ish, neighbours au, friends with benefits
ch. summary: what Wooyoung wants, Wooyoung gets.
wc: 8.0k
ch. warnings: dom San, bratty sub Wooyoung, sub/switch-ish reader, threesome with m x m, so much cunnilingus, body worship, biting, marking, finger sucking, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, blowjobs, cum eating, nipple play, handcuffs (on Wooyoung), light painkink (also Wooyoung), hair pulling, face-sitting, dirty talk, degradation (@ Wooyoung; ‘cockslut’ is used), frottage, masturbation, praise kink, implied subspace, orgasm control / edging, squirting, light dacryphilia, pet names for reader (‘baby’ and ‘sweet/good girl’), aftercare
a/n: features a soft-bodied, aromantic reader who uses she/her pronouns.
After your first night with San and Wooyoung, the ground rules go through a few adjustments. Some are pretty minor, others more… substantial.
Unlike last time, Wooyoung is also here for the conversation; and you’re more than a little distracted by his presence. Your memory keeps replaying the moment of his desperate breakdown to touch you, making you fight a constant itch to rub your thighs together — and judging by the looks Wooyoung gives you? He has his own memories on his mind.
“Wooyoung? Woo? You’re good with this?” San asks. He waves a hand in front of Wooyoung’s face to get his attention, only half jokingly.
“Hm? Yeah yeah. Yes, that’s good,” Wooyoung says, lifting himself from a daze. His voice is tight, not sounding good at all. Like nothing will ever be good again until he has you flat on your back, writhing under his tongue.
“Usually you’re a lot more chatty during a talk like this,” San teases. “Do I need to give you two some alone time?”
Without looking away from you, Wooyoung reaches to grab for San’s hand, like it’s on instinct. He meets Wooyoung halfway, fingers slotting together easily — but instead of jealous or upset, San looks more interested in the eye-fucking that’s happening right in front of him.
And honestly? The hard glint in his eyes is not exactly celibate either.
It only works you up more; the way San keeps biting his lip is almost as distracting as Wooyoung’s heated stare. It definitely is a very different conversation from last time, the air charged with restless excitement — but the end result is similar, leaving you with a rough framework of expectations, but not too many specifics.
…Other than the obvious, of course.
Wooyoung has made one of his intentions all too clear.
This means that when the next night together comes around, you are not in the least surprised to have Wooyoung sitting on a pillow in front of you, nested between your thighs. “Hey,” he says, staring up at you with a crooked grin on his face. “Nice seeing you again.”
“Hi yourself,” you say, slightly breathless already.
You are sitting on the edge of San’s bed, wearing only a simple robe. Wooyoung is on his knees in nothing but fitted boxers — and a pair of handcuffs. Broad strips of soft black leather, connected with a silvery chain.
That last part is a surprise; bondage had come up in passing, but you did not expect it to come out tonight. San had dangled the cuffs in front of Wooyoung earlier, not brokering any protest. Clearly he meant it when he said he did not mind improvising.
“Only your mouth will do, right?” San had told Wooyoung. “Always bragging about that tongue of yours… Are you worried you can’t get her off like this?”
Despite an initial objection, Wooyoung had relented quickly; maybe out of pride, or maybe he was worried that San could snatch you away from him at the last moment. The cuffs’ effect was subtle but instantaneous; a slight daze had drawn across Wooyoung’s face, betraying he was not as adverse to the restrains as he pretended.
So here he is in front of you now, breathtakingly on display. With his arms pulled back by the cuffs, Wooyoung’s chest is opened up to you, smooth tanned skin with dusky pebbled nipples. His eyes stare up at you, burning with a singular goal; to devour you whole.
San stands behind him, a firm hold on the back of Wooyoung’s neck to tilt his head back; offering Wooyoung up to you as much as you are offered up to him. You only need to reach out to touch Wooyoung — finally touch him — and you do just so.
The corner of Wooyoung’s mouth twitches when you lean in. His eyes are drawn to where your robe threatens to fall open, giving him a generous view of your cleavage. The look on his face is dark with hunger, heating your skin, but his eyes snap back to your face when your fingers brush across his cheek. He licks his lips; lips that are already swollen from barely ten minutes ago.
“Now, why don’t we give that pretty mouth a warm-up? Show me you deserve that sweet cunt,” San had told Wooyoung, pulling down the waistband of his grey sweatpants just enough to take out his cock.
And god, Wooyoung had shown him.
He had focused on using his tongue, thick swipes and kitten licks. Never taking San too deep, suckling on the flushed cockhead as he lapped at every drop of precum. All while looking at you from the corner of his eyes as he moaned around San’s cock, making a point of arching his back, prettying himself up for you.
In Wooyoung’s eyes had burned a promise, no, a challenge; will you be able to handle him?
Now you are about to find out.
You continue to slowly map out the striking features of Wooyoung’s face, but your thumb lingers on his bottom lip. You’re pulled in by the discovery of a small freckle that is just begging to be kissed. Just when you are intently contemplating that thought, Wooyoung decides he has had enough of sitting quietly — and he strikes at you with a playful nip at your fingers, sharp teeth grazing against your skin.
“Hey!” Startled, you pull your hand back, pouting at Wooyoung for rudely interrupting your exploration of his pretty face.
“Careful, Woo,” San warns, yanking him back by the hair.
Wooyoung hisses, his teeth digging into the freckle you had so admired. “Sorry,” he says with a laugh, not sounding sorry at all. “I only bite the people I like, promise.”
Standing behind Wooyoung, San’s dominant role breaks for a split moment; he makes a face as though to say, “That’s a fair point, actually.”
“Come,” Wooyoung says, nodding his chin to beckon your hand back to him. “Let me show you.”
You raise a sceptical eyebrow — but it’s hard to resist the blatant hunger in Wooyoung’s stare. Cautiously, you reach for him once again… and your breath hitches when he closes his lips around two of your fingers, sucking eagerly at the digits. He works on them with the same fervent enthusiasm as he had San’s dick, his eyes fluttering shut as he groans around your fingers. His nimble tongue gives you a direct preview of what is waiting for you, curling around your fingers and flicking sharply.
A quiet whine escapes you, the wet heat of Wooyoung’s mouth searing straight through your body, into your waiting cunt. Wooyoung’s eyes open with a flash of triumph, fully aware of the effect he has on you.
Slowly he releases your fingers, a thin string of saliva connecting them to his glistening lips. You use those fingers to draw a line along the sharpness of his jawline, smearing his face as you cup his cheek. Wooyoung moans at the mess you’re making of him; his shoulders jerk sharply, trying to move his arms despite the cuffs around his wrists.
He is beautiful like this, bound and left to the whims of you and San, but still you can’t help a needy moan at the way his hands strain to touch you back.
San grins when he notices, and softly tuts at you. “Patience. The cuffs don’t go off until he’s earned it.” He runs a rough hand through Wooyoung’s hair, pushing his head down.
Wooyoung stares up at you through messy bangs, a dangerous grin on his face. “You’re greedy,” he chides, but from him it sounds like a compliment. “Don’t worry, baby, I’ll get you there with or without my fingers inside that needy pussy of yours.”
“…Prove it.”
Your demand slips out quietly but resolute. You are done waiting, and start to open your robe. “Don’t,” San interrupts. “He can do that himself. Unpack your present, Woo.”
“Gladly,” he scoffs. “If you’re trying to piss me off, that move won’t work.”
San’s fingers tighten in Wooyoung’s hair, giving it a small tug. “It’s not about you. Right now, it is all about her and that pretty cunt she’s generous enough to let you touch. Don’t forget it, unless you want to get in real trouble.”
Wooyoung whines at the pull, his eyes scrunching shut with a shudder. Your breath shallows at how responsive he is, and then San loosens his hold on Wooyoung enough to let him shuffle closer, crowding into your space. He leaves the robe alone at first, satisfied to simply nuzzle his face at where the garment starts to fall open naturally.
“So soft…” he groans, inhaling deeply against your chest. “All soft and warm for me…”
You shiver when hot breath falls on your skin, followed by a light brush of his lips. Your arms loosely encircle his shoulders to pull him closer, where your hand meets with San’s in Wooyoung’s hair. San makes room for you, covering your hand with his as your fingers entwine in the soft strands of Wooyoung’s red hair; silent encouragement to pull and move his head just as you like.
But you are curious what Wooyoung will do when left to his own devices, anticipation of the unknown stoking a fire between your thighs.
Wooyoung bends down to bite at the sash of your robe, staring up at you with an intense gaze. Slowly he pulls until the loose knot falls away, at which he drops the sash with an eager moan, nudging the fabric aside so he can press open-mouth kisses on your nipples, your sternum, your stomach, anywhere within reach. Sucking and nibbling as he luxuriates in the curves of your body, taking his time with you but clearly trailing downward towards his intended goal.
You whimper shakily, arms tightening around Wooyoung while he steadily builds up the gentle sparks in your stomach to sharp jolts of pleasure.
At first you think he is teasing — and perhaps he was, but Wooyoung grows more and more aggressive in his worship of you, shameless and noisy. He bites and laps greedily at your skin, tongue dipping into your belly button, sucking hungry bruises into the soft fold of your stomach. His head blocks your view of his crotch, but the way his hips twitch tell you he must be getting hard, if he isn’t already, and rapidly losing self-control.
You squirm at the thought, impatience testing your own self-control, making your fingers clench tighter in Wooyoung’s hair.
“You sure are taking your time, Woo,” San observers similarly, just when Wooyoung’s teeth sink into your plush thigh and you gasp at the sharp sting. “Don’t you think you’re neglecting that sweet pussy? Went on and on about how you want to fuck your tongue into that tight cunt until she cums on your face, drown yourself in her wet slick until you pass out. Told me you’ll make her squirt — are you going to prove that you can, or are you all talk?”
“F-fuck,” you whine, bracing yourself with a hand on the mattress behind you, arching into Wooyoung’s insatiable mouth.
“Never rush a quality meal,” he says, voice hoarse. “Gonna savour this. Every second, every drop.”
Wooyoung leaves more bites on your thigh, moving up, up — only to switch to the other side just when his nose brushes against your aching cunt, glistening with arousal. Now you know he is teasing.
“C’mon, Wooyoung…” you complain, his name comes out in a breathy moan. You try and pull him to where you really want him, canting your hips to lure him in, but Wooyoung is stubborn and resists. He groans in protest, only suckling harder at the sensitive, bruised patches of skin he’s created. Your legs fall open as far as they can go, lower lips parting for Wooyoung in invitation. You can’t wait, not a moment longer; so you hold on a little harder onto Wooyoung’s hair, nails grazing his scalp, and yank.
Instantly, Wooyoung’s breath stutters and his hips jerk forward, arms straining against his cuffs. “Fuck, fuck,” he whimpers, muffled against your cunt. You pull again, and he whines even louder. “That’s it, baby, take whatever you want. I’ll give it to you, I’ll give you everything, gonna be so good for you,” he babbles, brow scrunched in pleasure at your rough treatment of him.
His tongue darts out, lightly, like he plans to tease you again — but he curses at the slickness he finds, his last shred of restraint broken. He licks up a long, wet stripe up to your clit, whining against the sensitive nub when you shudder and moan, only more arousal gushing forth.
“All for me?” he rasps. “Fuck, I knew this would be a tasty pussy. Could tell just by looking at you. Not gonna waste a fucking drop, I can stay right here all night if I have to.”
San makes a sound of approval as Wooyoung finally begins to eat you out in earnest, but otherwise he stays quiet; remaining an observer to how Wooyoung rapidly dismantles your lucidity. San’s free hand drifts down to his cock, still hard from getting sucked off earlier.
“That’s enough,” he had told Wooyoung back then, pulling him off his cock before he came too close. “Go get your meal.”
Now San slowly fucks into his hand, sharp eyes watching with burning interest how Wooyoung gets lost between your thighs. Tongue delving deeper and deeper, thrusting inside your leaking cunt while his nose rubs up against your clit. You were right; the slope of his nose is perfect for grinding on, a fact you enthusiastically take advantage of.
With Wooyoung’s warm, eager mouth on your cunt, the pressure in your lower abdomen builds up almost embarrassingly fast. Your hips rock into him harder and his arms jerk in response, instinctively trying to use his restrained hands. You whimper, already balancing on the edge.
San, however, is not impressed with Wooyoung’s performance. “Think you can do more, Woo.” (More? Is he trying to kill you?) “That tongue is one of the few things you’re good for, I know you can do better with it. Really make her squirm.” (Fuck, he is trying to kill you. Fuck.)
Wooyoung lets out a choked, muffled groan against your cunt, vibrating through you.
“Then again… it has been a long time since you last had any pussy,” San continues, casual in his musing. “Might be out of practice. Do you even remember where to find her clit, hm? Or have you gotten that rusty?”
Immediately Wooyoung proves that he remembers exactly; switching from his vigorous tongue-fucking to sucking on your clit with equal aggression. You mewl at the sharp licks and suction, shaking as you fall back on your elbow, accidentally pulling hard on Wooyoung’s hair — but he revels in it, moaning louder between the obscenely noisy sounds of his lips and tongue dragging you to the brink.
“See? That’s better, isn’t it? There I almost thought you’re nothing but a cockslut but you are just as whipped for pussy, aren’t you?” San says, dispassionately, and Wooyoung almost sobs at his words.
(San can’t fool you though; maybe Wooyoung can’t see it, but you do see the way his hand speeds up around his hard length, thick beads of precum leaking from the flushed tip.)
“Does he feel good, baby? Is my little cockslut making you feel good?” San asks you, but words fail you, breath catching in your throat in a pathetic whine. Your back arches, pelvis pushing into Wooyoung’s mouth even as your hand pulls him in closer. “I suppose that is a yes,” San grins. “Wooyoung should thank you, for allowing him such a treat.”
Wooyoung groans between your thighs, but that is not enough for San.
“I said,” he growls, covering your hand in Wooyoung’s hair with his own, overpowering you to pull the redhead back, “Wooyoung should thank you.”
“A-ah! Thank you, thankyou,” Wooyoung keens, in a ravenous and desperate scramble to get his mouth back on you. “Please, I need more,” he whines, struggling against his cuffs, “need her to cum on my tongue, please, fuck, please, let me— I gotta—”
He almost falls forward when San suddenly releases him again, but Wooyoung does not miss a beat, right back to slurping at your juices.
Your vision starts to blur and for a moment you don’t understand why, until a tear escapes your lashes, trailing down your cheek. You blink the rest away, desperate to see; to see Wooyoung as he devours you, to see San as he gets himself off to the sight of Wooyoung getting you off.
That is where your eyes linger; your mind is growing hazy, your thoughts slow like syrup as Wooyoung takes apart your sanity. But your mouth waters at the sight of San’s hand around his hard cock, and one thought does come through loud and clear.
Although the conversation before all this had focused on you and Wooyoung, it’s not like you and San was taken off the table…
Even if you could just lend him a hand… or a mouth… or even your cunt, after Wooyoung has his fill. Maybe you’d be too sensitive by then, worn out from Wooyoung’s voracious worship of your pussy; you would flutter and throb around San’s thick length as he took you, but god it’d be worth every sweet ache.
It does not take San long to notice you, lost in a complete daze and openly checking him out. “You are greedy,” he says, grin sharpening. “You already have Wooyoung’s mouth, you want my cock too?” He licks his lips. “Maybe next time, hm? Let Wooyoung have his fun now.”
Next time.
The promise courses through you like fire, right down to your weeping cunt — where Wooyoung twitches at the realisation that your attention has drifted to San instead of him. His mouth detaches from your clit with a wet noise, and he bites at your thigh, harder than before.
“Ah—!” You hiss at the sudden sting, and roughly pull at Wooyoung’s hair without even thinking, forcing him back to where you need him. “D-don’t stop, fuck, don’t—”
Wooyoung groans, eyes rolling to the back of his head. He does not stop, not this time, satisfied to have your full attention back. You struggle to gasp for breath, scrambling to hold Wooyoung in place when his nose bumps against your clit just right; and he is all too happy to let you grind against him, enthusiastically thrusting his tongue in your cunt.
“That’s right,” he grunts between thrusts. “Use me, that’s what I’m here for. Break my fucking nose if you want, I don’t fucking care. Wanna taste how you cream right on my tongue, c’mon, baby, come on.”
You can’t do anything but grant his request. You dangled at the edge for so long, the fall is hard when you finally tip over, electricity surging through you. Your thighs tremble as they lock around Wooyoung’s head, toes curling as they dig into his back. You cum with a strangled sob, helplessly falling back onto the bed, hips still undulating to chase the sparks that course all the way through every nerve ending in your body.
Wooyoung curses as he laps at you, making good on all his promises not to waste a single drop. He stays on you for what feels like forever, until the high of your orgasm tilts over into needling oversensitivity. He ignores the way you begin to squirm and whine, forcing you to physically push him away. Still he groans in protest, not wanting to part with your cunt just yet.
“Sit on my face,” he gasps, the words slurred. “I’m not done here, please, wanna feel you, wanna drown in that wet pussy, ride my fucking face until I can’t breathe, please, fuck please.”
Your cunt is still twitching from the aftershocks, yet there is not even a moment’s doubt in your mind. “Yes, fuck,” you say breathlessly, then look up to lock eyes with San. “Don’t you dare shut this one down,” you threaten, only half-joking. You will not have a repeat from last time.
San’s dominant front cracks at the dead-serious expression on your face, forcing him to stifle a laugh. “Alright, alright, I won’t dare,” he grins. “You know what? I’ll even give Wooyoung a little reward.”
He crouches down to undo the leather cuffs, and you startle when Wooyoung immediately lunges forward to grab two handfuls of your sides and yanks you towards him. His tongue drags across your sensitive folds for one more swipe, drawing a long whine from you, and only then does he let you scoot back. The expression on his face is dark, an unhinged shadow hiding behind the glitter of his eyes; Wooyoung is nowhere near done with you yet.
It takes a moment of shuffling around, but soon you have discarded your robe and Wooyoung is lying flat on the bed, where his hands make up for lost time as he grabs and kneads at your thighs and waist, impatiently pulling you further up from his chest to where he really wants you.
You move slowly, not to tease Wooyoung, but because you are still shaky from earlier — and San’s hand on the small of your back does not help. It is a relatively innocent gesture; San is only helping you to stay balanced, but the warmth of his large palm and slight coarseness of his fingertips is incredibly distracting.
You can’t linger for too long on thoughts of how his hand might feel on different parts of your body; Wooyoung is ready and waiting. His eyes peek up from underneath you with a bright glint, his fingers digging encouragingly into your legs.
“Go as hard as you want,” he purrs, rubbing his nose through your soaked folds. “Just enjoy the ride. I know I will.”
And with that, Wooyoung is right back on you like he never left. No teasing this time, no drawn-out bites at your thighs. Just his hungry mouth on your cunt, where you can feel his grin.
You hiss out a curse when he starts to whip his head up and down, and you grab onto your knees to brace yourself. This position lets you move more freely than before and Wooyoung smoothly coaxes you into a steady rhythm, your breath coming in small moans and sharp gasps.
Somehow it’s all more intense this way, more exposed. You are extremely aware of San’s eyes on you, watching how your chest heaves, how your thighs clench with the effort to fuck yourself on Wooyoung’s face. Wooyoung is even noisier now, every groan shooting right through you, his tongue leading your pace as he eats you out, forever insatiable. Like a man trying to quench his thirst with seawater, every drop of your juices only rousing Wooyoung’s appetite further.
Your eyes clench shut, still sensitive from before but also unable to stop from seeking out more. Wooyoung groans against you, spurred on by your need of him. You vaguely hear San shuffle around but you are too focused on trying to keep pace, on not collapsing against Wooyoung completely as rekindled tendrils of hot pleasure weave through your veins.
You jolt when a new hand suddenly touches your waist, but then another joins in to steady you. Your eyes fly open and turn your head, only to see San right behind you. He has taken off his sweats, now entirely naked, and there is a distinct hardness poking at your back.
“Relax,” he says, and runs a soothing hand up and down your side as he presses up against you, chest flush against your back.
You do relax; San is warm and solid behind you, a strong reassuring presence, and his soothing touch perfect for melting into. With a soft shudder you sink into his broad chest, the messy swirl of your hips stabilising to a languid roll now that San has his arms wrapped around you.
“There you go,” San murmurs, kissing your shoulder. One of his hands stays on your waist, keeping you steady, but the other traverses up to palm your breast, thumb teasing at your nipple. “Comfortable?”
“Mm,” you sigh out, starting to feel a little dazed. The world slows down around you, zooming in on just this moment, this place, with your fingers sliding into Wooyoung’s hair while San presses his lips to your shoulder again, firmer this time. Your back arches when he squeezes your breast, and your ass pushes back — right against his thick, hard cock.
San sucks in a sharp breath, surging forward when you moan encouragingly. Moving against you in an unhurried but persistent rut, inadvertently setting the pace of Wooyoung mouthing at your leaking cunt.
Like before, Wooyoung does not agree with having your attention divided. He huffs an audible breath, redoubling his efforts — something you had not thought possible. His loud moans have to be on purpose, the vibrations like shockwaves to your nervous system, and he nudges his head forward with every roll of your hips, dragging his nose against your clit at a toe-curling angle.
You whine and shudder, shakily clinging tighter onto San. He is all too eager to provide you an anchor, leisurely biting and sucking at your neck while he plays with your tits, alternating between them. He is slow and thorough with his touches, with his open-mouthed kisses, his restraint a dizzying contrast to the desperate, sloppy mess that Wooyoung is making.
The way you cling tighter onto San inflames Wooyoung’s efforts all over again. With a sob, you scramble to grab onto San’s shoulder, nails digging in to stay upright while Wooyoung eats you out like a starved animal. San hisses, hips bucking in approval, and Wooyoung groans against you in response.
You are drowning and floating all at once, trapped in an unending feedback loop of pleasure. It does not take long for you to fall apart, helplessly gyrating between their two bodies; the steadiness of San’s strong hold and his dick fitted snugly between your ass cheeks; the unhinged frenzy of Wooyoung’s mouth. You cry out as you cum again, harder than the last time — and again, Wooyoung does not let up, eagerly lapping at your release.
“F-fuck, Wooyoung…” you whine, pulling at his hair. But you do not pull him away, letting him savour you while you ride out your high, prolonged by every greedy swipe of his tongue.
San curses lowly, his hand leaving your breast to reach down, down. “Wanna feel…” he grunts, pressing his hips harder against your ass. “Such a good girl for us, let me feel what a mess you made…”
You can’t help but whimper in response to the pet name, and San’s teeth scrape against your neck between kisses.
Finally San’s hand reaches your cunt, bumping into Wooyoung’s nose when two fingers slide through your sodden folds — but you can’t enjoy his touch for long… not when Wooyoung bites at San’s thumb, hard enough to leave a mark.
San grunts roughly as he snatches his hand back, his mouth detaching from the column of your neck.
“Mine,” Wooyoung mumbles, and there is a dark, possessive glint in his eyes as he nuzzles at your clit. “This pussy’s all mine today.” He goes back to suctioning his lips around the swollen nub like nothing happened, but San’s face hardens.
“Nobody taught you how to share, Woo?” he asks sharply, but Wooyoung ignores him completely; a clear answer all the same. “Fine. If you want to be like that, it can be like that.”
San tips your chin up with his bitten hand, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek that is at odds with the storm brewing in his eyes. “You did so well,” he praises you, almost in accusation towards Wooyoung. “You can go for a little longer, can’t you? I’ll be right here.”
He starts to move away, a realisation that jolts through you with alarm. Trapped in a foggy daze, you instinctively whine and grab onto San, unwilling to untangle from him, destabilised without his arms around you. San’s eyes widen just slightly at your desperation to stay attached.
“What’s this, can’t go a moment without me?” he teases, pressing a few more kisses in the crook of your shoulder. “I won’t be far — how about we turn you around, hm? Let you watch while I handle Wooyoung.”
(Wooyoung grunts at the mention of his name, but it is a suspiciously excited sound.)
Watch San? Be the rapt audience to whatever he is planning? The thought sparks excitement, enough to blunt the edge off your needy desperation. Shakily, you nod your head. “Y-yeah. I want to watch.”
“Good girl,” he smiles, patting your ass. He starts to move again, and this time you let him.
You expected Wooyoung to protest when San helps lift you off his face, but he tentatively allows you to part from him long enough to turn around. It gives you time to take the sharpest edge off your overly sensitive body; especially when Wooyoung’s hands rub up and down your thighs once you’re settled back down. You can’t be sure if it’s intentional, but the light drag of his fingernails is strangely soothing, avoiding the patches of skin he marked so aggressively.
San is still right there, tipping up your chin to meet his eyes. “Just watch me, okay?” he reminds you, his gaze intent.
You hum in acknowledgement, sinking back into a feverish haze as Wooyoung descends on you once again. The angles are different like this, and he kisses at your clit with wet noises, flicking his tongue in a rapid, tight pattern that has you fighting for breath, while his nose nudges shallowly at your entrance.
And right in front of you, you can see how San lifts Wooyoung’s hips so he can strip off his boxers, where a dark stain is clearly visible in the crotch. Wooyoung’s dick smacks wetly against his stomach, so hard and flushed that it looks painful — just from eating you out, neglected all this time.
“Now,” San says in a low, clipped voice, “you’re real damn lucky, Woo. Need you to make our sweet girl feel good, so a proper punishment will have to wait for later. For now… you want her all to yourself so bad? Let’s give you some extra incentive to do what you’re good for.”
He sits across Wooyoung’s thighs, one leg on each side, and wraps one hand tightly around the base of Wooyoung’s leaking cock. Wooyoung whines, trying to move his hips but San has him pinned down. Your breath catches in a sharp moan as you watch wide-eyed how San rocks forward, using his free hand to rub his own hard length up against Wooyoung’s.
Entranced, you stare at how the two cocks slide against each other, precum mingling. Wooyoung’s is long with pretty veins, whereas San’s is more of a blunt instrument, thicker with just a slight curve — both equally mouth-watering in their own way. (“Next time,” San had promised you.)
Wooyoung groans a curse against you, his whines loud even muffled by your wet heat. Your hips swirl harder in response, and you moan wantonly as his pleasure reverberates through you — and his frustration too.
Because San is coldly calculated with his strokes, always careful to make sure Wooyoung is just shy of that final edge he needs.
“F-fuck, San, are—” Wooyoung whimpers when he catches on, his fingers digging harder into your thighs. “Are you—”
“You’re not cumming until she does.”
“She already—!”
“Again,” San cuts in, squeezing the base of Wooyoung’s cock tighter. He makes a noise of disappointment. “Going on and on about drowning in that sweet pussy, but it’s all forgotten the moment your own pleasure is on the line. Selfish, Woo. Is that all you really care about? Blowing your own load?”
You moan weakly, hips shifting against Wooyoung’s tight hold, trying to find his mouth again — and that is what snaps Wooyoung back into it.
“Fuck, don’t you listen to Sannie,” he groans, and sharply sucks at your clit with a lewd sound. “No way I’d forget about you.”
You can’t even be sure whether he’s talking to you or your cunt, and with the way he tongues at the latter? Who the fuck even cares? He can sing a whole damn serenade to your pussy every day of the week if he wants, recite poetry the whole night through; either way, you get everything your body craves for.
Well… Your eyes drift back to San.
Maybe not everything.
The thought crosses your mind, exactly when you are also struck by a distinct advantage to this position; all you have to do is lean forward to press your palms against Wooyoung’s chest, his dark nipples pebbled invitingly. He groans when you scratch lightly across his skin, his hot breath shuddering against your clit. You are tempted to keep going but…
But Wooyoung did deprive you of San’s firm body pressed flush against yours, and his slow, dedicated kisses. Maybe you should not forgive Wooyoung that part so quickly.
Maybe… maybe you feel a little mean right now.
(And a memory of one of Wooyoung’s kinks floats up into your mind, giving you the perfect outlet.)
“Hngh!”
Futilely, Wooyoung’s hips jerk upwards against San’s weight when you pinch at his nipple.
“Oh?” San grins, lips curling in approval. “Looks like someone agrees you deserve a little punishment, Woo. You made her very unhappy.”
Wooyoung moans loudly at the sting, his back arching into your touch. Suckling harder at your cunt, like he is only spurred on by the pain. “She won’t be unhappy for long,” he groans lowly, almost inaudible from underneath you. “Not after I’m done with her.”
Still, his noises get more and more desperate as San continues to edge him, mewling every time you tease at his flushed chest and play with his sensitive nipples. He groans in frustration every time you shift your hips in a way that breaks his rhythm, refusing to let him make you cum just to draw out his torment.
But despite his undeterred enthusiasm, eager to rise the challenge, you hesitate when his moans get just a little weaker. He starts to sound tired, and instead of grinding into him, you instinctively try to shift away out of genuine concern for his oxygen supply.
Wooyoung gives you no chance, yanking you back. “Stay right the fuck here,” he growls.
“Wooyoung, you’re— I don’t want to—”
His teeth sink into your inner thigh, warning you not to move an inch. “I’ll tap out when it’s too much,” he gasps against you. “Promise. Don’t you fucking move — you’re close, aren’t you? Fuck, I can tell, you’re so fucking wet, dripping all over my face. Just let me finish you off, hm? Sit back down, want you right here when you cum. I’ll have you creaming on my tongue in no time, just let me—”
It’s like Wooyoung is hit by some kind of second wind. Immediately he puts proof to promises, introducing his thumb to your clit. Working the digit in perfect tandem with his clever tongue, luring you back into rocking your hips in tune with his fanatical pace.
“Fuck,” you gasp, jaw falling slack. Shit, message received. Wooyoung is fine, no need to worry about him, not when you are the one whimpering and struggling to stay upright.
Your thighs tremble almost painfully; you try to hold out, to keep drawing out Wooyoung’s denial for as long as you can, but deep down you already know you won’t last. Your cunt clenches with every sweeping lick of pleasure that Wooyoung sends through it, a fire stoked by the view in front of you.
San’s teeth are gritted, a drop of sweat running down his temple. His rhythm is less controlled by now, slowly devolving into a mindless rut against Wooyoung’s twitching cock. The slick sound of skin against skin is almost as loud as Wooyoung’s mouth between your legs, and the coil inside you tightens and tightens, inevitable no matter how hard you try to scramble away from the edge. You give into it; your resolve to tease Wooyoung any longer is overriden by your own desperation for release.
You speed up your hips, grinding into Wooyoung while bracing yourself on his chest. He moans when you thumb at his nipples again, his pelvis bucking against San. The motion draws your eyes back to San’s hand; not large enough to wrap around two cocks at once but enough to guide his movements as he jerks himself off against Wooyoung.
San notices you watching, and gnaws at his bottom lip as it curves into a grin. “Look at you, you greedy thing,” he says. “Came twice and still want more, don’t you? Tell me what you need, hm?”
“Wanna watch you cum,” you blurt out without even thinking, “please. Wanna see…”
He sucks in a breath. “Anything you want, baby,” San promises, and he releases Wooyoung’s cock, who whines so loud you can’t tell if it’s relief or desperation. San strokes himself with purpose, his thumb playing against his leaking slit, and it only takes a few expert twists of his fist before he groans, pained bliss contorting his face.
Long ropes of cum spill across Wooyoung’s stomach, even a few spurts all the way up to his chest, and his whines morph into a low moan as the hot seed hits his skin. He squirms when San lazily gathers some on his fingers, spreading the sticky whiteness around.
Then San lifts his hand and offers his glistening fingers to you, an offer you eagerly accept.
“Oh? Wooyoung isn’t the only hungry one, I see,” San teases when you messily slurp around his fingers, swirling your tongue to get a proper taste of him.
You can only moan in response; another high builds up inside your aching, sensitive cunt, climbing and climbing. It is gradual but unstoppable, drawn forth by Wooyoung’s persuasive fingers and insatiable tongue. You scramble for something to hold onto — and find Wooyoung’s hand. He grabs onto you, your fingers intertwined while his other thumb presses against your clit with dogged persistence. Pressure mounts, deep inside your throbbing cunt, until you shatter under its weight.
Your broken sobs are muffled by San’s fingers, drool spilling past your lips and onto your chin. San watches you, fixated on your pleasure, intensifying the depth of your climax. A hot wet release spews out from your core, wrenched from deep inside you, and Wooyoung moans in unexpected delight as you gush onto his waiting tongue. This time Wooyoung does take it easier on your trembling body, languid strokes of his tongue as he has his fill of you. He coaxes out as much as he can, until you are shuddering and spent above him.
San slides his fingers from your mouth when you quiet down, then helps you lift yourself off Wooyoung to slump onto the bed. Gently, San puts a hand on your neck to tip up your chin, and there is a proud gleam in his eyes while he brushes his thumb just underneath your jaw.
“I think Wooyoung did enough to prove himself, don’t you?” he murmurs, patting Wooyoung’s thigh. “Do you want to keep watching, or help me out with him?”
“Hm, help,” you sigh, without hesitation. Wooyoung makes a needy sound in response, and you turn to look at him.
He is a mess, swollen lips parted as he pants for breath. His nose and lower half of his face glazed with your juices, while his hair and forehead are matted with sweat. His eyes are unfocused, his hand still clenched tightly around yours. But he chuckles weakly when he sees you take in his dishevelled state.
“Yeah?” he asks with a tired grin, a glint returning to his eyes. “Made you feel good?”
Rather than give your answer in words, you hold eye-contact with Wooyoung as you bend forward. His cock is flushed dark and achingly hot in your hand, and Wooyoung whimpers a soft sob when you press a kiss on the leaking tip. Neglected and then edged, Wooyoung squirms at even the lightest touch, his breath hitching as tears quickly begin to form in his eyes.
You take mercy on him, sinking down on him with your mouth, relishing his snivelled moan when you hollow your cheeks. His nails dig into your hand and his hips jerk upward — but San is still there, pinning him down. Leaving Wooyoung with no choice but to writhe helplessly while you take him deeper until he nudges at your gag reflex, where you swallow around his cockhead.
“Ahhhhh fuck fuck fuck,” Wooyoung hisses, stuttering a long string of curses, interjected by whiny calls of your name. It does not take any time at all before thick tears roll down his cheeks, his voice caught in a choked up cry when he finally cums, convulsing under San’s strong hands. Heat sparks in your lower abdomen at the sight of Wooyoung’s wretched state, even with your body as worn out as it is, and you moan contentedly as his hot seed hits your throat.
Eagerly, you swallow it down as much as you can. A little bit spills past your lips, dribbling down your chin, but San is happy to wipe it up with a thumb and suck it off himself.
Wooyoung starts to push at you, his release quickly tilting over to overstimulation, and again you take mercy. With a decadent smack, you detach your lips from his cock, still half-hard and glistening.
The look in Wooyoung’s hazy eyes as he stares up at you is pure reverence, and he tugs at you to come lay down by his side.
You don’t fight it, a sudden wave of exhaustion hitting you all at once now that everyone has had their dues. So you let Wooyoung cuddle up to you as you lie on your back, his arm and leg thrown across your body.
“You’re fucking incredible, you know that?” Wooyoung mumbles into your shoulder. “Abso-fucking-lutely spectacular.”
“And you are still drunk on pussy,” you giggle, but the praise warms your skin nonetheless.
“Hm. Maybe,” he says. “Doesn’t change facts.”
San chuckles fondly and runs an affectionate hand through Wooyoung’s sweaty hair. “You alright? Both of you?”
Wooyoung lifts his head up to look at San, like the stars are hung in his eyes. “You’re incredible too,” he grins, and you nod staunchly, humming your agreement.
You swear San’s smile turns shy, though he shakes his head like he’s dealing with a pair of incorrigible scamps. “That’s not what I asked, and you know it.”
“’m fine,” Wooyoung says. “Fucking amazing. Gimmi a minute and I can run a marathon.”
“Sure you can,” San indulges him, giving you a quick wink. He gets a washcloth to clean you up, mindful to ask permission first even though you’d given the okay beforehand. The okay still stands; especially with the pleasant ache that has spread through your body, making you loathe to even move an inch.
“God, I’m going to be sore tomorrow,” you groan, wincing despite how careful San is while dabbing at your thighs, bruised from Wooyoung’s… enthusiastic worship. “You’re a damn menace,” you mumble at Wooyoung, who just grins cheekily at you.
“Yep,” he agrees proudly.
San sighs and shakes his head. “Seriously, you really do have a sharp set of teeth on you, Woo. I still can’t believe you bit me like that,” he pouts, lifting up his thumb to show off the faded indents.
Wooyoung’s eyes widen. “Oh shit, was it that hard? Sorry sorry. Got carried away,” he laughs awkwardly, taking San’s thumb to press a light apologetic kiss on the mark. Then his grin returns, bold and mischievous, “But uh, didn’t you say something about a proper punishment?”
San rolls his eyes, and leans forward to land a soft bite right on the top of Wooyoung’s head in retaliation. “Really? You’re saying you’re good to go again?” he asks incredulously, and Wooyoung just shrugs. He really did bounce back quickly this time, almost as energetic again as he was at the start.
“How about you?” San asks, returning to his task of cleaning you up.
God, these two men really are committed to proving they’ll be the death of you, aren’t they? “Give me a minute and I’m good… to watch,” you say, finding a compromise between your depleted body and the interest sparked between your sore, aching thighs.
But San’s moping over Wooyoung’s bite has you thinking; both of them have adapted so smoothly to this new avenue in their sex lives. At no point have you ever detected any jealousy about adding a third person in the bedroom; the only act of possessiveness had been about you. Meanwhile, both San and Wooyoung appear perfectly comfortable to be shared.
“Have you guys ever done something like this before? Threesomes?” you ask curiously. You do know that the voyeurism aspect was new to Wooyoung, but maybe he’s had other experiences?
“San has,” Wooyoung says, tracing absent-minded circles around a bite he left on your stomach.
“Oh?”
San shrugs his shoulders. “I teamed up a few times with a friend, back when I was more active in the BDSM community. Domming together. It’s been a while though.”
“Oh?” Now there certainly is an interesting image.
“I was in an open relationship before,” Wooyoung chimes in again, before you have a chance to get nosy about San’s friend, “but things never, you know, overlapped. Not like this.”
‘Not like this’?
But… what is this?
You can’t help it; you tense up. Wooyoung said ‘relationship’; a word with a broad variety of meanings, with many potential layers to it — but most people narrow it down to one specific kind, especially in connection to sex.
How do San and Wooyoung see this one, with you?
You remember it clearly, the first time you heard of the term ‘aromantic’; it was like a gear clicking into place. It brought clarity to what always felt like a gap between you and the majority of people around you. The solution to a strange mystery of misunderstandings.
You like San and Wooyoung very much, you really do. There is a connection that isn’t contained to a casual hook-up. But depending on what expectations they have, now or in the future, you might not match those — and that makes you a little fidgety. It’s not a failing on your part, you know that, but other people don’t always see it that way.
San notices that you’re sinking away in your own thoughts, and gently nudges you back into his bedroom, back to him and Wooyoung. “Hey. Tell me what’s happening.”
You hesitate, a little embarrassed about how presumptuous some of those thoughts are. For all you know, they don’t think about you like that at all — and maybe never will. All your worries could be completely unnecessary. “Yeah no, it’s not…”
‘Not important’ you are about to say, but you swallow down the words. San always encourages you to be open about boundaries; he has to mean those in a non-sexual context as well, right?
“Okay,” you say, sitting up straight to gather yourself. “So, I really don’t want to make assumptions about how you guys see this going forward, but if this” — you vaguely gesture to the messy sheets on the bed — “becomes a regular thing, then maybe we should talk about some ground rules outside the bedroom too.”
“Yeah, of course,” San says, brow furrowed lightly. He immediately takes it as seriously as you suspected he would, but you still feel a relieved lightness in your chest to have it confirmed.
Wooyoung sits up as well, curious for what else you have to say. “Sure, makes sense,” he says; another confirmation that this is a safe space, and that you are in safe hands. You take a breath, and continue on.
“Hey. Sorry, it’s just me today,” San says, opening the door to let you inside. “Wooyoung got called into an extra shift at work.”
It’s just a mere few days after the memorable incident that capsized your entire relationship with your friendly neighbour Choi San, and here you are again, walking into his apartment.
He is still your friendly neighbour Choi San, of course, but now he is also the Choi San that you accidentally walked into while he was fucking his boyfriend — and he will soon become the Choi San who fucks his boyfriend in front of you with full consent from all parties involved.
And right now? Right now he is the Choi San who invited you over for a friendly chat about establishing ground rules.
This is totally fine. You are totally fine.
Somehow, some absurd chain of events has led you to this point, and you can’t quite work out how it happened. You are inclined to blame Byeol for it all, though you’re not sure yet how. It’s her fault for needing to eat, or something like that. If she could just go a week without food, you never would’ve been in San’s apartment that day.
Yeah. This is all on Byeol. Rock-solid logic right there.
“No Wooyoung? Oh, no sure, that’s fine,” you tell San, like it does not take a godlike amount of strength to meet his eyes directly. Like your brain doesn’t conjure up the memory of him sucking and biting at Wooyoung’s neck every time you see him. “Or should we do this some other time, when he can be here, too?”
While you are struggling to keep a tight hold on your one last thread of self-composure, San seems remarkably well-adjusted, especially considering how flustered he had been that day. Now that the initial shock has passed, his mannerisms are relaxed and easy — but you?
Your unexpected surge of Wooyoung-induced boldness had run out of juice approximately two seconds after leaving San’s apartment, and you’d only grown more antsy since then. Your days were spent second-guessing the whole thing and fighting back the urge to look up new apartment listings.
(You can’t decide if San’s ability to stay calm and composed is ridiculously unfair, or if it is for the best. At least one of you has their shit together.)
San looks casual and homey today, dark hair still wet from a shower. He’s wearing comfy socks with grey sweats and a simple black shirt that should, in theory, be oversized; but the fabric clings onto San’s broad chest in a way that is very distracting, his collarbones exposed by the wide neckline.
(That shirt is definitely unfair. Does San have no compassion for your poor nerves??)
“Wooyoung gave me the okay to go ahead without him,” San says, gesturing an invitation for you to step into the living room. “I know what he wants out of this, what his limits are. Is that alright with you?”
You hesitate for a moment — but honestly? If you already struggle this much to keep yourself from bolting out the door with just San in the room, you can’t trust how well you’ll cope with Wooyoung here too. It might take a few extra days to gather the mental strength required so you can face the memories that he conjures in your head. Like when his— (NOPE. Stop! Stop that right now, brain!! Cease and desist!)
“Yeah, if Wooyoung’s okay with it, then I’m okay with,” you say, smiling back at San. Nailed it; you are being so normal about this. “Let’s talk.”
And so you do.
San sits you down on the couch where he joins you, a literal arm’s length away to give you some personal space. He also hands you a mug with a hot drink — your favourite, and you feel a flattered burst of happiness that he remembered from some random smalltalk ages ago.
You weren’t sure what to expect out of this conversation — or actually, you had not expected a conversation at all.
It seemed simpler to just…dive in, as it were. They fuck, you watch; high fives all around afterwards. Probably the most awkward fives that were ever highed but still; pretty straightforward, right?
But San insisted on laying out some ground rules beforehand, and as the conversation unfolds, you understand why.
It’s not that San overwhelms you with a multi-page kink inventory (“Maybe for some other time,” he jokes), nor does he take all the spontaneity out of it with a five-step business plan, laying out what will happen to the smallest details. He just…answers some of your questions, asks some questions of you, forcing you to actually solidify your thoughts about what your boundaries are — even as ‘just’ a spectator.
No, you don’t mind if they get a bit rough. What does ‘a bit rough’ look like to you? Oh, that’s a good question, actually. No, no you’re down for that. Umm, oh that’s quite… Yeah, of course they can talk to you during the scene; you’d feel weirder if they ignore you completely.
You’re no longer surprised that San is so calm today; he is obviously in his element, experienced in this type of kink negotiation. He does let out the occasional self-conscious chuckle — but that only makes him more endearing, his warm nature blanketing the strange formality of hashing out these limits.
Somehow, he strikes a sweet spot between keeping the dialogue casual enough that you don’t feel pressured, but thoughtful enough that you know he is taking you, and this whole thing altogether, seriously.
It helps to put you at ease; San knows what he’s doing, makes you feel like you are in safe hands. He explains how exactly he and Wooyoung use the traffic light system for safe-words, and he is quick to take anything off the table that you waver on, never pressing your boundaries.
Gradually, you find an inner calm in the reminder that you want this to happen, while San’s lack of judgement is a soothing assurance that it’s okay to want this to happen. Every person involved has given their enthusiastic consent — you may have stumbled into San and Wooyoung the first time, but this is different.
This time, you are making the conscious decision to step through the door, knowing what will be on the other side; and you can turn around any time you want to. You just don’t want to.
“Hey, thank you by the way,” San says at one point, “for being so open about this. Makes it a lot easier for me.”
“It does?”
He nods, his eyes curving. “Less stressful when I know what everyone’s expectations are. I don’t mind improvising, but it’s comfortable to have a baseline to work off, you know.”
Huh. You hadn’t thought about it from San’s perspective, but yeah, that makes sense. You tell him this, and thank him for making it easy on you, too. San’s eyes shine as he lets out a small, breathy laugh, like he is the one endeared by you right now.
“What about touching? Did we cover that yet? Maybe it goes without saying, but just to say it anyway,” he continues smoothly. “Off the table, right? Keeps things simpler. We don’t touch you, you don’t touch us. …We’re alright with you touching yourself, though, if you want to.”
San adds the last part so casually that it takes a beat for the suggestion to sink in — but then your breath catches at the thought, your bottom lip sucked between your teeth. For weeks you had held back from touching yourself to their muffled noises, and now they themselves are giving you permission to do so right in front of them? Oof.
“Oh? You hadn’t thought that far ahead, hm?” San says when he notes your dazed reaction, and the curve of his smile goes just slightly cocky. “Give it some thought, I’ll trust you to make up your mind on your own.”
“I think I already have,” you blurt out, resisting the unbidden urge to rub your thighs together.
San leans back, his grin showing a flash of teeth. “Good, I like that,” he says, and the simple confidence of his words does something to you. Something that makes you feel more than a little bummed that you’ll only be there as a spectator — but hey, at least that means you don’t have to bring up your IUD and clean bill of sexual health. “One last thing,” San goes on, “then I think we can wrap this up.”
You give him a curious look, encouraging him to continue.
“Wooyoung can get…mouthy,” San says, cautiously.
…
“No way,” you deadpan. “You’re joking.”
San gives you an exasperated look, one that you’ve caught him giving Wooyoung from time to time, but moves past your comment. “He likes to rile me up, likes it when I’m rough with him.”
This isn’t exactly news to you; where is San going with this? “So, uh, kind of like what was going on when I walked into you guys?”
It’s the first time that you’ve acknowledged what happened, and you can’t tell if saying the words out loud makes you die a little on the inside, or if it sets the most cringe-ridden part of you free. There is something strangely liberating about just speaking frankly; perhaps that is the secret behind Wooyoung’s bold audacity. Shame loses some of its power when you own up to things.
San does fluster a bit; apparently his miraculous recovery from the embarrassment of that day is not as complete as it seems, his endless composure not so endless after all. “Y-yea, no— It’s not…not always that mild,” he says, “the way I talk to him, that is.”
Mild?
You have vivid memories of how San had mocked Wooyoung for cumming untouched, the look on his face, the taunt in his voice. A stark contrast with the soft-hearted man sitting next to you now. So that was mild for them?
…Huh. Interesting.
San manages to recompose himself, while you mull over this new piece of information.
You feel curiosity, but also an instant discomfort that you can’t quite explain. The discomfort causes an immediate reflex to push it all down and ignore it, to pretend that you are fine with anything that San and Wooyoung want to do.
But San sees the hesitation in your face, and you know that you cannot hide your gut feelings from him. He will not let you. You try to relax, and remember that San has literally just thanked you for being open with him; this needs to be an honest conversation. Not only for your comfort, but for San’s.
“It’s not a judgement thing,” you immediately rush to reassure him. The last thing you want to do is imply that you’re kink-shaming him or Wooyoung. People like what they like, it’s got nothing to do with you. (Except this time it does have something to do with you, since you will be right there.) “I’m fine with anything like what I already heard, but hard name-calling or something like that… I’m not sure. It’s just—”
It’s just that San and Wooyoung have built a foundation, able to lean on their experiences and mutual trust when the harsher words come into play. They know that every degrading insult has the purpose to make the other feel good, even if it may seem counter-intuitive on a surface level. You are an outsider looking in — and you struggle to predict how you’ll respond to anything less ‘mild’; whether it will be just as exciting to you as it is to them, or only upsetting.
(Rationally you also know perfectly well that San would never say anything that Wooyoung isn’t on board with; but the connection between rationality and arousal is shaky at best.)
“No need to explain yourself,” San says, waving your concern away with his hand, “it’s all good. I’ll make sure it doesn’t go too far. There’s more than one way to deal with Wooyoung.” He adds a wink at the end, a cocky undertone in his words, but there’s still a hint of shyness burning at his ears. The dichotomy of it all is ridiculously endearing.
San walks you out the door, where he stops you for just a moment. “Sorry again for forgetting to text you,” he says. His smile is apologetic, but the sharp edge of embarrassment seems to have worn off of him too, the words calm. “I’m happy we’re doing this, Woo and I had been trying to think of a way to bring it up with you, I just— It would’ve been nice if we’d figured something out before…you know.”
You pat his arm, reassuring him that it’s all good between you. The catalyst to this turn of events had shaken you, but now? Now you feel steady in walking forward. Still a bit nervous, but (mostly) good nerves. Steady.
(Maybe you ought to buy Byeol some extra treats.)
“What would that conversation have even looked like?” you ask with a small chuckle. “‘Hey, want to watch us fuck?’ I mean, yeah, but that’s still pretty wild to ask your neighbour out of the blue.”
“And there we were, so worried about scaring you off,” San says, laughing.
“Well,” you say, puffing up your chest, “as you can see, I don’t scare easy.”
It’s just a line to poke fun at yourself and the whole situation, but San gives you another of his easy, confident grins, adorned by dimples. “No, you don’t. I like that too.”
You had worried that your discussion with San would take the excitement out of things, but those worries are unfounded. With the worst of your stress out of the way, anticipation has a chance to build up — and in a way, it’s kind of refreshing to have some idea of what to expect out of this, even if you won’t participate directly. No fumbling around blind to figure out what works for everyone, where the limits are. Just clarity.
Besides, it’s not like you have a play-by-play of what will happen. The only thing you know for sure is that you’re in for a memorable night.
Wooyoung confirms the latter as soon as he opens the door to greet you with a sly grin, biting his bottom lip.
“It’s good to see you again,” he says playfully, completely unbothered that he was buck naked the last time you saw him. Now he is wearing tight leather pants with a simple short-sleeved black shirt that shows off his arms — and again with the wide neckline! What is it with these damn men and their stupidly attractive collarbones!
Wooyoung notices how you check him out and preens immediately. He pushes his hair back with a suggestive wink, striking a little pose. “It’s a sexy look, right? Right?”
“Woo, don’t tease her,” San calls out from inside the apartment.
There is something about San’s voice that has you on alert, an edge of authority that you never heard from him before; but Wooyoung appears immune to it.
“I wasn’t teasing!” he calls back, rolling his eyes while he gestures you to come in. You note how his gaze lingers on the short skirt you’re wearing, but also that he does not touch you on the way to the bedroom; is he already taking the ground rules into account? You feel that slight pang of disappointment again; Wooyoung’s ass just looks so pinchable in those pants.
The lights are dimmed in the bedroom, and you step through the door with a mix of excitement and nerves — but they still are good nerves, only enhancing the excitement. San is already inside, waiting for you and Wooyoung.
This moment marks the first time you’ve ever seen Choi San shirtless.
You suck in a sharp breath, unable to help yourself.
You should not have been surprised; you’ve seen his arms on hot summer days where he hangs out in a sleeveless shirt, you know how wide those shoulders are just from seeing him in his regular clothes. And with the knowledge that San is one, a martial arts instructor and two, a certified gymrat to top it off; no, you should not have been surprised.
Not by the shadowed definition of his abs, not by the smooth expanse of his chest, tapered down to a slim hips where a faint treasure trail disappears into the waistband of his baggy, faded jeans. Add the tension in his jaw, his sharp narrowed eyes, the imposing posture; and San has undergone a total transformation, unrecognisable from the gentle guy next door.
You have always thought of the two men as gorgeous, but fuck. Whatever the you of a previous life has done to earn you this today, you send her a silent thanks.
San is unfazed by your moment of stunned admiration, simply showing you the comfy chair he’s readied for you. You sit down meekly; you may not be involved in the scene directly, but his dominant air still wraps around you. Usually you would describe San’s appearance as masculine handsomeness balanced with a perfect dose of cuteness, but now there is an edge of roughness to him, even by just standing there.
Wooyoung looks from you to San, raising an eyebrow at his boyfriend.
“What are you doing, showing off like that?” he says; bold words for a man who just posed to show off his (admittedly fantastic) ass in those leather pants. “You really want to impress her, trying to look tough, huh? Just do what you always do, geesh, that’s already fucking hot enough.”
The compliment slips past almost unnoticed, but Wooyoung turns to you before San has a chance to react. “Did you know,” he goes on, with the grin of a born troublemaker, “Sannie seriously did push-ups before you got in here. I think he’s nervous, isn’t that cute?”
His grin widens when you crack into a smile, so caught off guard by Wooyoung’s reveal that you have to muffle a laugh. It is cute.
San’s face goes dark while he watches Wooyoung mouth off. Your sweet neighbour would be flustered by the callout, but San isn’t your sweet neighbour right now. He has slipped into a different mode, and won’t be knocked out of it by Wooyoung’s antics.
Instead he takes two long strides across the room and without warning, grabs Wooyoung’s chin, tilting it up. “I think it’s time you shut your mouth and use it for better things,” San says, his voice rough.
Wooyoung softly gasps a surprised ‘ahh’, his body instantly reacting to San’s forceful touch. San’s eyes flash at the way Wooyoung’s back arches, a sharpened half-smile on his lips.
(“He likes to rile me up,” San had told you — but clearly San likes to be riled up, too.)
San pulls Wooyoung forward, mouths clashing in an aggressive kiss. Immediately he palms the crotch of Wooyoung’s leather pants, kneading at the growing bulge. Wooyoung groans, his teeth digging into San’s bottom lip while his hands cling onto broad, bare shoulders to keep his knees from buckling.
You rub your thighs together at the sight, a familiar pressure building in your lower abdomen. Your breaths go shallow, eyes unsure of where to focus.
Down to the smooth roll of Wooyoung’s hips as he humps into San’s hand, up to the way their jaws shift as the kiss gets messier; giving you more and more sloppy peeks at their tongues sliding together with wet, eager moans. San’s grip on Wooyoung’s chin is still unrelenting, manoeuvring the shorter man in whichever way pleases him.
A slow hand travels down your thigh, knees parting by instinct as your fingers slide in between. You’d wisely foregone on underwear, and you can feel the easier slide through just one layer of fabric, a growing damp spot where you rub the skirt against your clit. Your inhibitions are lowering rapidly, a soft whine joining Wooyoung’s loud one when his hips begin to stutter — and San immediately pulls away.
“F-fuck,” Wooyoung hisses, chasing after San’s hand. “C’mon, just let me—”
“And let the show end so quickly?” San asks, finally releasing Wooyoung’s chin to give him a condescending pat on the cheek. “That’s real greedy of you, Woo.”
Wooyoung scoffs. “You know I can go for more than one round, you’re just being a— f-fuck, San—!”
With a sharp smack, the flat of San’s hand strikes against Wooyoung’s ass. Just from the sound, you think even San’s palm must hurt from the impact against leather. Wooyoung jolts forward, mouth fallen open as he pants for hard breaths. He lets out another moan when San tangles his hand in those fire red locks of hair, forcing Wooyoung’s head at an angle.
“You think you deserve to cum more than once, after mouthing off like you just did?” San says, his voice cool, an almost detached expression on his face. “You’re lucky I don’t call the whole thing off right here.” His free hand undoes the button of his jeans, the sound of his zipper loud in the quiet bedroom. He is not wearing anything underneath. “Here, prove that you’ve earned one at all, or do you want to disappoint our guest? On your knees. Now.”
For a moment Wooyoung looks ready to balk — but then his eyes dart to you and he visibly swallows down a retort, obediently getting down.
Obedient, for you.
Your fingers press down a little harder into your cunt, aching at Wooyoung’s compliance, all to please you. The barrier of fabric becomes increasingly frustrating, its damp spot growing outright soggy as you whine a soft moan.
Wooyoung’s eyes immediately snap back to you, glittering as he watches the swirl of your fingers, the tensing of your thighs, partially covered by the skirt that is slowly riding up. He licks his lips, eyes hungry.
San chuckles at Wooyoung’s meeker demeanour. “So eager to have her watch you suck my cock, hmm? Would’ve done this much sooner if I’d known how quick you’d be down on your knees.” He runs his hand through Wooyoung’s red hair, forcing him back to the task at hand.
Wooyoung stares up with a glower, wrapping his hand around the thick, half-hard cock. He parts his lips and leans in — for a small, rebellious bite on San’s hip.
San hisses, his grip on Wooyoung’s hair tightening. “Play nice,” he warns in a low growl. “I can still change my mind about all this.”
Silently, Wooyoung simply laps his tongue at the bite; to soothe the mark, but also to take pride in it. A last act of defiance before his mouth closes around San’s cock with a soft wet sound, and he hollows his cheeks as he sinks down.
You’re spellbound, watching how Wooyoung noisily sucks and bobs his head. Moaning decadently, heavy-lidded eyes transfixed on San’s face. San takes shallow breaths, staring right back at Wooyoung and the glossy shine of spit that spreads over his hardening cock with every pass of Wooyoung’s mouth. You swallow thickly when Wooyoung’s cheek bulges, his fingernails lightly scratching the exposed skin of San’s thigh. It must be sensitive; San bites his lip, his hand balling into a fist in Wooyoung’s hair.
“Little faster, Woo. Work for it,” he says, his voice slightly hoarse. “You think I’ll take it easy on you just because we have company?”
Wooyoung lets out a whiny noise but eagerly follows the lead of San’s hand guiding him, now working his cock in earnest as his speed picks up. Drools escapes the corner of his mouth, more dribbling down with every muffled wet moan.
Desperate for friction, Wooyoung’s hips roll forward uselessly — but San stands still as a rock in contrast, content to make Wooyoung’s swollen lips slide up and down his thick length. He’d look utterly unaffected if not for the rise and fall of his chest with hard breaths, his jaw clenched as he watches Wooyoung go deeper with every pass.
Your last shreds of inhibition crumbles away, the sharp pulse in your cunt harder and harder to ignore. You are burning, and your boldness grows in direct proportion to your desperation for relief. A hand slips underneath your skirt, and you sigh at the direct contact, greeted by a slick mess.
San’s eyes flicker to you at the sound, his eyes piercing into the point where your wrist disappears underneath your clothes. You aren’t sure how much he can see, your skirt hiked up but still providing some cover — but you are sure he can hear the faint squelch of arousal as you fall into a rhythm, fingers sliding across your clit in familiar, toe-curling patterns.
You can’t even feel shy anymore at San’s enthralled stare, so deep in the chase for pleasure that his attention only spurs you on. Soft gasps for breath, your lips parting to give free passage to a shameless moan.
“Fuck,” San curses softly, and pulls Wooyoung’s mouth off of him.
Wooyoung is dazed, his eyes a little glassy, and he is reluctant to part his lips from San’s cock. He looks up in hazy confusion, lifting a hand to wipe his smeared face clean.
“Leave that,” San snaps, lightly smacking Wooyoung’s hand away. “Clothes off. On the bed.”
Wooyoung is too far out of it to even consider disobeying, his movements rushed and clumsy as he strips down. San is more controlled as he shucks off his jeans, then grabs for a bottle of lube from his nightstand. He watches approvingly how Wooyoung get on all fours, squeezing the base of his cock to take the edge off before he joins his boyfriend on the bed.
“Here,” he says, grabbing onto Wooyoung’s hips to manhandle him into a position where you get almost a full profile view, then roughly turns Wooyoung’s head towards you. “Let her take a good look at that face, what a pretty mess you made of yourself.”
Wooyoung is a pretty mess; eyes unfocused and mouth hanging open, lips and chin glistening with saliva and precum, his red hair unruly but pushed back to expose his forehead and the small studs of his eyebrow piercing. He is breathing shakily, bent down on his forearms; his back arches prettily, pushing his ass up into the air, and he rocks back in anticipation of having San’s hands on him.
But Wooyoung’s eyes slowly come back into focus when they fall on you, mesmerised by the same view that captivated San only a moment before. He hisses when you bite back a moan, deliberately shifting your thighs to make the skirt ride up higher. “Talk about pretty messes,” he groans. “Fuck.”
You whine, the praise blooming hotly in your abdomen. It’s hard not to squirm under Wooyoung’s heated gaze; so you don’t bother to try and stop yourself, hips rocking forward to meet your fingers as one trails down to press inside you, just a shallow dip, teasing yourself — and Wooyoung.
He groans unabashedly and burrows his face in the sheets, like the sight is too much for him to handle, his back arching deeper.
“That’s it,” San says in a silk-smooth voice, running his hand across Wooyoung’s spine, before drawing back to squeeze at his ass. “You’re enjoying yourself like this, aren’t you? Putting yourself on display like—” San bites something back, shaking his head. (You realise that you wish he hadn’t held back.) “How is it, Woo? Is it just as good as you thought it’d be, hm?”
“Better,” Wooyoung rasps, a crack in his voice. “It’s better, f-fuck, San…”
San chuckles, coating two fingers with a generous amount of lube. “See? That’s what happens when you behave. Never say I don’t reward obedience.”
You can’t quite see from this angle, but you still know exactly when San pushes inside Wooyoung. He shudders at the intrusion with a pleased moan, turning his head to glance back at San. He grins, just a little cheeky, when San’s eyes widen in surprise.
“Did you—?” San blinks, but then his eyes curve into a pleased smile. “You already prepped for this, babe? So considerate,” he purrs, squeezing Wooyoung’s ass in approval. He goes for another finger, just a few passes, but quickly pulls back to slick up his cock instead. “I could get used to this, you’re spoiling me today.”
“It wasn’t for you,” Wooyoung retorts. “Don’t get carried awa-aah—!”
The words are knocked out of him when San lines up and buries himself in Wooyoung’s tight hole in one smooth thrust.
“What was that? Didn’t quite catch that, Woo,” San says, panting slightly. He palms Wooyoung’s ass, then strikes with just enough force to have Wooyoung garble a choked moan. “I’d almost think you were mouthing off again, but that can’t be right, can it?”
“You’ll know when I’m—fuck, nghh!”
San quickly sets a hard pace, and your eyes go wide at the aggressive snap of his hips, brutal and hypnotising. You stop teasing yourself, two fingers picking up speed to match him, the heel of your hand rubbing against your clit. It’s not enough, not nearly enough compared to what you see, and you groan in frustration, pushing yourself to stretch around a third finger, arousal smeared on your thighs and dripping onto the chair.
Wooyoung moans and whimpers loudly with every thrust — noises that you are already familiar with, but never heard so closely, so clearly before, no more walls in between you and him.
San’s teeth are gritted, sweat falling down his chin. He keeps up the punishing slam of his hips as he fucks into Wooyoung, whose upper body crumples into the bed under the relentless onslaught. His knuckles are pale from how hard his fingers clench onto the sheets, prominent veins in his forearms.
Shamelessly, you flip back your skirt entirely and use your free hand to press at your clit at a better angle, wishing desperately for a vibrator; for Wooyoung’s thighs to hump and grind against; for San’s cock plunging inside of you. Their mouths on you, devouring you whole. You whimper as the fantasies pile onto the reality in front of you, augmenting each other and pushing you closer and closer to the edge.
Wooyoung looks close to that edge too, his brow knitted, eyes squeezed shut; a faint glimmer of tears on his lashes. Drool gathers on the sheet under his mouth, nothing but garbled nonsense leaving his lips.
“Any smart words, hm?” San demands, grunting tightly from keeping up his pace.
Wooyoung can only moan, squirming in San’s hold. San’s fingers dig harder into his hips, forcing him to take and take and take his cock, over and over again.
There is a triumphant glint in San’s eyes at Wooyoung’s incoherent state, barely able to string two words together. “That’s what I thought,” he chuckles, laying down another smack on Wooyoung’s ass. You can see the reddening imprint even from where you’re sitting. “Never takes long before you’re fucked dumb on my cock.”
Wooyoung sobs, teething at the bedspread as a thick tear rolls down his cheek. You inhale a sharp breath at the sight, shooting through you like lightning.
San hears your gasp and freezes for a moment, immediately turning his head to you. His hips slow down to a shallow rocking, much to Wooyoung’s frustration, but San is focused on you; unsure whether your response is rooted in arousal or something else. “Colour,” he asks, firmly.
San smacks his ass with a sharp hit. “I wasn’t talking to you,” he warns and Wooyoung shuts up — though he does not stay quiet, whimpery moans escaping him as he pushes his ass back.
But San pays him no further attention right now, looking at you. His expression is somewhere halfway between the hard dom of tonight and the gentle neighbour that you know; wanting to know for sure that he did not overstep in his degradation of Wooyoung.
You nod, vigorously. “Green,” you say in agreement, “very green.”
The way Wooyoung is losing himself in the thrill over this treatment, the way he revels in pushing San just to make him push back; he visibly gets off on the consequences of his bratty actions — and that is getting you off too.
San holds your gaze a moment longer, like he is gauging the honesty of your answer. Then he nods, with a wink so quick you almost miss it.
“You hear that, Woo? She likes me talking to you like this,” he purrs, leaning over to catch the tear on Wooyoung’s cheek with his tongue. He briefly rubs his nose against Wooyoung’s temple and straightens back up, quickly picking up the pace again.
But Wooyoung has lifted his head, coming just slightly out of his stupor at the sound of your voice. He looks in your direction; at perfect eye level with your leaking cunt, and the three fingers sunk deeply inside.
His face contorts with a pained groan, fingers twitching in the sheets. The lewd display of you fucking yourself on your fingers breaking through his last shred of self-control. “Oh fuck,” he hiccups. “Look at that wet pussy. F-fuck, been so long since I last buried myself in a juicy cunt like that.” He is full-on rambling now, his tongue thick and speech slurred.
You whimper, clenching around your fingers. No touching, you remind yourself. It’s just talk.
“Wanna suffocate between those thighs, god you’d taste so good I just know it,” he babbles, high on the thought of you, and the mental images blaze through your head like wildfire.
He would tease, you are dead certain of it; he’d drive you mad on purpose until you grab his hair and grind into his face, exactly as he wants you to — fuck, that gorgeous slope of his nose looks just perfect to ride up against your clit—
“Woo…” San says warningly, but he is deaf to it.
“Can I—” Wooyoung sobs, repeating the words like a chant, Can I— Can I— Can I—
“Y-yes.”
It slips past your lips before you can think it through. Quiet and desperate; but Wooyoung hears. San hears. He tuts sharply, mercilessly intercepting the shaky hand that Wooyoung reaches out to you.
“You know the rules, Woo,” he chides, but even without him looking your way, it still feels partially directed at you too. “Or are you so drunk on my cock that you can’t remember something that simple? Tell me what the rule is, now.”
“N-no touching…” Wooyoung whines.
San nods in approval, and rewards Wooyoung by reaching around to wrap a firm hand around his neglected cock. “Good,” he coos. “Look at you, you poor thing. So drunk on cock but still starved for pussy.” San’s eyes are on you now, and you’re taken aback by the hunger there, like he has mixed feelings on reinforcing the rule.
“Can’t even blame you for forgetting,” he says with quiet intensity, the smooth roll of his hips losing their aggressive edge, his hand working a little faster instead. Wooyoung makes a noise of complete debauchery, burrowing his face back into the bed with a desperate moan. “What a mess she is making, dripping on my chair,” San goes on, licking his lips, “all just for us. So cruel of me, dangling her in front of you like that. A pretty cunt like that deserves to be worshipped.”
The praise blooms hotly in your core, and with a flash you realise this is San’s way of reassuring you he is not upset about the push against boundaries. Suddenly the heat wraps into a sharp coil, and you’re not sure what does it; San’s hungry praise or the desperate stutter of Wooyoung’s hips as San jerks him off, slick wet noises mingling with shaky whimpers. They pick up in speed as Wooyoung rushes towards his own peak, dragging you down with him into his unravelling.
You fall apart right after he does, broken by his choked up sobs; by him futilely twisting and wriggling against San’s strong grip. Your thighs shake, toes curling, the slide of your fingers against your clit just right — but the sight of the two men in front of you even more potent. Your hips jerk up as pleasure surges through you, mouth falling slack in a silent cry.
Desperately, you try to keep your fingers moving, to ride out this wave for as long as you can; all while watching how San’s palm glistens wetly as he lets go of Wooyoung’s cock and grabs onto his waist, yanking him back as San fucks into him, shifting focus to his own release. Wooyoung is nothing but a crumpled, snivelling mess but still he groans eagerly, encouraging San to use him.
San does just so, leaning over Wooyoung’s prone body to bite at his neck as San ruts into him, panting for breath. San’s moans grow higher than you expected, his low grunts fading away; if he was putting on a tough front when you first came in the bedroom, he no longer is now, too preoccupied with chasing his high.
Somehow it feels vulnerable, his dominant coat slipping off his shoulders. Like it’s something you’re not supposed to see — except he does let you see, lets you watch how the persona falls away as he slowly comes undone. Your breath hitches, a sharp moan catching in your throat as suddenly the aftershocks of your first orgasm stir with renewed life; and just like that you cum again, biting down your noises as though not to disturb San, trembling quietly in the chair as you watch, entranced. San’s hips finally stutter with a loud whine and then he stills entirely, pressing his face between Wooyoung’s shoulder blades with a drawn-out shudder.
With a weak moan your hands fall away; your body spent as though you are the one who just got fucked within an inch of your life.
The bedroom goes silent, almost.
Everyone is catching their breath, and Wooyoung makes an unintelligible sound when San pulls out and gently lowers him onto the bed. San’s eyes go soft as he brushes the hair out of Wooyoung’s face, kissing him on the forehead before he straightens up.
While you and Wooyoung lay boneless, slowly recovering, San rolls his shoulders and stretches his limbs with a quiet grunt, then grabs a robe to put on. He goes back to the nightstand, this time for a bottle of water. You never even noticed the two glasses that he clearly prepared beforehand, along with a few washcloths. He fills a glass, dampens a cloth, and returns to Wooyoung’s side.
Wooyoung hums in thanks as San helps him upright and hands him the glass of water. He takes a slow sip while San starts to wipe the sweat and other bodily juices off his skin, a grin bubbling up to his lips as his energy recharges. “Did so well, Sannie,” he says, stealing little touches with his free hand while San cleans him up. Eyes glittering with pure adoration. “Took such good care of me, you always do.”
“Shush. Drink your water,” San chides him, but his cheeks glow red at Wooyoung’s steady babble of praises.
The intimate sight of San and Wooyoung in their little bubble causes an unexpected fuzzy warmth to bloom in your chest; touched that they also trust you as an audience for this part, the quiet aftermath. It’s making you strangely timid after all that just transpired, smoothing down your skirt almost subconsciously.
Finally San takes the now empty glass back from his boyfriend. He pulls a blanket across Wooyoung’s body and helps him settle on the bed, where Wooyoung immediately snuggles up against a pillow and lets his eyes rest. (For a guy who made a point of ‘being able to go more than one round’, he sure is out like a light.)
San leaves a final peck on the top of Wooyoung’s head and sits back up, then goes to fill the other glass. He brings it to you with a fresh cloth, and hands you the drink. You take it with a grateful nod, but blink in surprise when San leans in to dab the sweat off your forehead.
He seems to suddenly realise what he has done, freezes instantly, then yanks his hand back as though burned. “Sorry,” he mumbles awkwardly, whispering so he won’t wake Wooyoung back up. “Forgot the damn rule myself.”
“It’s okay,” you reassure him quietly, taking the cloth off his hands with a small, tired smile. You really didn’t mind. Did it even count now, during the aftercare?
San returns the smile. “Don’t tell Wooyoung, will you? I won’t hear the end of it,” he jokes, and you raise your thumb and forefinger to your lips to ‘zip’ them closed.
“Your secret is safe with me,” you promise solemnly, but the serious expression does not last for long; pushed out by the undeniable urge to tease San. “Besides, it’s nice to have some blackmail in case I ever need a favour from you.”
“Seriously?” he scoffs. “You’re as much of a handful as Wooyoung, aren’t you?”
“I’ll take that as a compliment!”
“Don’t tell him that, either,” San says with a soft laugh, shaking his head.
It is silent again, and you wonder if you should feel awkward, cleaning yourself up right in front of San. You should, right? But he isn’t watching you anymore, simply keeping you company in the quiet, and somehow the whole thing just feels easy and natural. So you wipe the washcloth across your thighs with a ginger touch, avoiding the places where you are most sensitive. Just a quick pass to clean the worst of the dried arousal and sweat sticking there. You’ll take a proper shower at home.
“About what happened…” San says after a while, when it’s clear you have settled and are breathing a little easier, “what Wooyoung said. What you said—”
“Yeah, I know. Sorry. We did agree on no touching beforehand, I shouldn’t have pushed it.”
He snorts. “You weren’t the only one pushing. But no, it’s fine. I told you, I don’t mind improvising, but in this case…” San hesitates, like he’s not sure how much to say. “Woo is a bit more impulsive than me during a scene. I… like clarity. I like knowing for sure that nobody does anything they might have second thoughts about later. Maybe I’m too cautious sometimes, but that’s how it works for me. So I didn’t shut it down because of you, I want you to know that. That was for me.”
“I understand. You feel responsible for him during a scene like this, right?”
“I am responsible for him. And for you too,” San gently corrects. “That’s how I see it, at least. It’s part of what I signed up for.”
“‘Signed up for’?” a hoarse voice echoes from the bed. “What am I, a job?”
“A full-time one, Woo,” San fires back without missing a beat, smiling fondly as he says it. “How long you’ve been listening in?”
Wooyoung’s head pops out from underneath the blanket, his red hair in complete disarray. But his eyes are already clearer than they were just a few minutes ago; maybe you should give him some credit for his recovery time after all.
“I don’t have second thoughts this time,” he mumbles, his speech still a little slurred.
San just nods in acknowledgement, and turns to you with an inquisitive look. The implied question is all too clear.
“No second thoughts here either,” you agree. No point in getting shy now.
“Well,” San says, and that easy, confident grin is back on his face, “then I guess we’ll have to do this again sometime.”
“Mm, good,” Wooyoung says, turning over to his other side to get settled again. Then he glances back at San, a spark of trouble in his eyes. “Do you need a refresher on the ground rules before that happens, Sannie? Just in case you forget any?”
“Dammit,” San groans under his breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. Brow furrowed in pain, he gives you a reproachful look for the laugh that you unsuccessfully try to muffle. “So much for your blackmail,” he sighs.
Summary: BTS gets drunk and reads fan fiction together.
Pairing: Platonic OT7
Genre: Ridiculously filthy smut and boys being boys
Word Count: 4621
Warnings: The fan fiction the boys read is quite explicit, but the boys stay (mostly) platonic.
A/N: All of the fan fiction the boys read in this is written (badly) by me. Any resemblance to other people’s stories is coincidence. I am not trying to make fun of anyone other than myself as an avid reader and writer of BTS fan fiction.
