Synopsis: Taeyong just can't stop watching Doyoung fuck his significant other, no matter how hard he tries to.
Consists of: Third person POV, Switch!Taeyong, MLM!Taeyong, GN Switch!Reader, Dom!Doyoung, MLM!Doyoung, Voyeurism (non consensual), Bondage (reader receiving), Whipping (reader receiving), Degradation (reader receiving), Brief cum play, Masturbation (Taeyong), The word "pervert" is used a few times, Reader briefly wears pink lingerie, Implied threesome
Taeyong knew it was wrong, that he was crossing a line. He felt dirty every time, like some sick pervert. Yet that feeling of self-disgust still wasn't enough to stop his ventures. Once he saw the two of them, he could truly think of nothing else. One time just wasn't enough; but then again neither was two, or five, or twelve.
The first time was an accident, Taeyong swears upon that fact. The two of you were just so loud. How could Taeyong be sure Doyoung wasn't killing you if he didn't go to check? He never intended on peeking the door open and seeing you tied to the headboard as Doyoung places harsh hits on your flesh with a small whip, tears brimming in your eyes as you scream, "D-Doyoung!"
"Shut up you whore, this is what you wanted wasn't it? You can't expect me to believe that this isn't what was going through your head while you did that little photoshoot for me. Sent me those pictures when you knew I was in public. Almost like you wanted someone to see you. You're a fucking slut, it's disgusting," you mewled and pouted before jerking your body forward as Doyoung hits you again.
The way that they spoke to each other enchanted Taeyong. He had never seen a couple behave like this in real life. But he had never snooped on a couple's sexual sessions before either, let alone his best friend's. Taeyong studies your body, noticing how well tied the ropes are around you, so Doie must do this a lot.
Once Taeyong realized you weren't dying he could've just walked away, he should've. Looking back now he wishes he did, then maybe he wouldn't feel so grossed out with himself all the time. But instead Taeyong stayed in place, and from that little crack in the door, he watched both of them reach heaven. Your body spasmed as you screamed and came, Doyoung pulls out and paints your tummy with his cum, a nice little puddle on your lower belly. After Taeyong sees Doyoung scoop up his cum and make you lick it off his fingers he was done for. Flushed and with an un-ignorable hard on, Taeyong quickly and quietly fled the scene. The second he reached his room his cock was out, and the rest was history.
A little while after that is when Taeyong started his little routine, peeking through the door once again, seeing whatever filthy act you and Doyoung were up to, pulling out his cock, and silently jerking it. Taeyong had live porn, and he was the only viewer allowed. This all turned him on terribly, but there's always a surge of panic when he's right on the edge, when he bites his lip so hard it draws blood, praying he won't be heard. When he starts to wonder where his cums gonna go. And then of course, afterwards, when he makes his escape back into his room. Sometimes the nightmarish thought of being caught after the fact, almost making it to his room but then Doyoung coming out, and knowing Doyoung he'd be able to look at him and tell what he'd been doing. Taeyong wasn't a good liar, how would he get himself out of this one?
As much as Taeyong didn't want to believe it, he wanted in. He wanted to participate in whipping you, and the idea that he was most resistant to, he wanted Doyoung to whip him. Taeyong couldn't help it, he had seen Doyoung in a way he never had before and it turned him on in a way he couldn't explain. He had always thought you were attractive, now even more so, but he knew the attraction to his closest friend was a real problem. He's one-hundred percent certain he's been weird around Doyoung since he saw what he saw. And Doyoung being as attentive as he was, Taeyong was also one-hundred percent certain Doyoung had noticed.
The two of you had corrupted his psyche. Asleep, awake, your bodies were always on his mind. Taeyong knows things he shouldn't know, like the way Doyoung sticks his thumb into your mouth every time he cums, or how you don't cum hard unless you've been spanked first. He knows that for both of you, the foreplay is the best part. Taeyong felt like student, like he was studying your relationship. Any test about the two of you, he'd get an A.
As Taeyong mentioned, Doyoung was attentive and he had indeed noticed that something was up. He had noticed the very first day. Always making sure his door is closed tight before exposing himself and his lover. He knew there had to be a Peeping Tom in the dorms, and after assessing who was in the house at the time and doing a process of elimination, he knew it was Taeyong. His best friend Taeyong. Once he got over the initial anger from his privacy being invaded, he thought the idea was actually quite cute. Or at least the thought of Taeyong, red-cheeked and out of breath frantically jerking his cock was. Doyoung immediately told his love about it, and they both agreed that there was no trouble in giving him a little show. They both thought that would be the end of it, one and done, and then they never had to think about it again. But Taeyong had become a frequent visitor, claiming the place in-between the door as his own. They had to try their best every time not to look over at him, to not let him know that his fantasy is completely controlled. That at any time, one of them could get up and shut the door and that'd be the end of it.
The pair had grown tired of pretending Taeyong wasn't there, he was there, and the wet noises his cock made with every thrust attested to that. So they decided they had to put it to a stop.
It started just like every other time: you let out a loud screech, Taeyong realized what's happening on the other side of the wall then comes to take his place in the tiny opening. You and Doyoung toyed with each other a bit, letting Taeyong get comfortable, giving him time to start stroking his cock. He does exactly what's expected of him, taking out his dick and jerking it while he watches his show. You two fooled around for as long as you thought it would take for Taeyong to get close, it was only a matter of time now. The two of you begin to hear hushed whispers and you know this is it. Three, two, one, "Taeyong!"
Taeyong's eyes go wide, and he freezes in place, if he hadn't he certainly would've fallen on the ground at this point. His worst fear was coming true, he wishes he could run, but his legs won't move, "Taeyong, I know you're there. Come here," Doyoung doesn't move a muscle, making it seem like it's really Taeyong's choice. Taeyong opens the door at a sluggish pace and steps into his doom even slower.
"Taeyong, what are you doing? Why are you fucking yourself outside Doyoung's room? Are you some kind of pervert?" You ask him, feigning disappointment.
"N-no, No! I just- I was...I'm sorry" he bows to both of you in hopes of forgiveness and that all three of you could forget this ever happened.
"You're sorry for what?" Doyoung chimes in.
Taeyong can't look him in the eyes, not prepared for the judging stare he'll be met with, "Uh-um for, for..." he stares at he floor trying to organize all the thoughts running through his head, so many thoughts and yet his brain's never felt more blank.
"What? You can watch us fucking a thousand times, but can't face us like a man when you get caught?" Doyoung scuffs, "Fucking coward."
Taeyong whimpers, not daring to look up.
"Taeyong's been a very bad boy," You're talking to Doyoung now, "What happens to bad boys again?" You prompt.
"Well they get punished of course," Doyoung states matter-of-factly. Taeyong chirps up at that, there was no possible way Doyoung was serious. But then, "You'd be down for that, right, Yongie?" and all of sudden he feels a harsh leather material gliding across his arms, making him gulp and wet his lips. You giggle from where you sit on the bed, and begin to strip yourself of whatever clothes were remaining, which Taeyong knows are just your cute little lacy, powder pink lingerie; it was your new favorite set.
"You'll play with us right, Taeyong? You know I've been pretty bad too, maybe you could punish me after Doyoung's done with you?" You smile at him while you make your proposal.
At this exact moment, Taeyong was sure he had died and went to heaven.
"Yes! Yes. Whatever you want," he had to hold off from cumming untouched at this very moment.
"Bend over, Taeyong, lemme see you," Taeyong immediately complies, giving Doyoung full access to his ass.
This has got to be the best day of Taeyong's entire life.
Can I request a sub!Taeyong au? Helping him destress from being leader😏 Your sub!Jooheon fic was so good🖤
Sorry this isn’t longer! I guess I sort of made him switch near the end? I hope you enjoy!
The door slams behind him, the sound of his heavy boots thudding on the mat as he wipes them clean. Already you can feel the tension and stress emanating from his body, wafting from one room to the other. You hear his bag fall to the ground and his boots follow suit as he steps out of them, treading heavily to the bathroom without saying hello.
You frown and set down your book, sitting up on the couch. “Taeyong?” You call out after him, perplexed and wondering what’s caused him to be so withdrawn. “Taeyong.” Your voice becoming less of a coo and more firm.
You hear the water running in the shower and knock twice on the door. He sighs, heavy and tired, before answering.
“You stormed in here like a cyclone through the desert and didn’t even say hi,” you pout, waving a hand in front of your face to clear the steam. “Is everything ok? Are you ok?”
Taeyong turns around and rubs his eyes, leaning on the counter. He looks exhausted and worn out, deflated and run down and can only hope he has a late morning start tomorrow. You don’t know how he manages his schedule. “I’m fine, I’m just… tired.”
“Just tired?” You pry, knowing there’s more to his defeated demeanour than he says.
“And stressed,” he mutters, peeling his clothes off and leaving them in a heap by the door. “I’ve got my directors breathing down my neck, the deadline for the single is approaching faster than I can imagine, I’m fucking exhausted, I got a dozen twenty-something year olds acting like children–” he stops short and clamps his mouth shut in a pursed line.
“You’re having a bad day–”
“I’m having a bad day,” he confirms. He grips the edge of the counter for support as he takes his socks off and finally steps out of his boxers. “I just need a hot shower and my bed.”
“Nothing else?” You tease, still fully clothed but toying with the idea of joining him. “You seem pretty riled up for reasons other than those mentioned.”
He hums beneath the warm stream of water, eyes closed. “Nothing else.” But you don’t miss the way the corner of his lips twitch, suppressing a smile. The knot in his brow unfurrows and his face relaxes, the water soothing his skin and his worries. He shudders when he senses you beside him, his cock twitching as he realises what it might entail.
You shiver and turn the heat up a little, displeased with the current setting. “Turn around, baby.” And he’s quick to follow orders, eager to please. You reach for the shampoo bottle and squeeze a generous amount into your palm before lathering his raven hair, making sure to apply pressure with your fingers to all the right places. It’s an easy, therapeutic task, despite the height difference. He tips his head back, revealing the thick column of his throat, his killer jaw and prominent Adam’s apple and it takes whole lot of self control to not ravage it right there and then.
You wash out the shampoo and move onto his body, lathering his back. Your hands boldly traverse his skin, fingers lingering in places they shouldn’t. You run them along the ripples of his muscles, the perfect dip of his spine before moving down south to touch his thighs.
He whispers your name like a forbidden word, his soft whimpers like music to your ears and braces himself on the tiles in front.
“Relax, baby,” and despite your soothing tone, he makes no mistake; he knows when an order is given to follow through. Your lips press against the back of his neck, your tip-toes allowing you better reach, your teeth nipping at his plush skin, leaving behind marks to show for the next day.
Your hand reaches around to stroke him to attention, only to realise he’s already hard. You chuckle softly under your breath and he turns his head in mild embarrassment at how quick he’s become aroused. Your other hand reaches up to tangle in his wet hair, pulling his head back and once again exposing his neck. “Don’t hide from me. You know I love to hear how I make you feel.” You whisper into his ear, his lobe captured between your teeth.
He groans deeper as you grasp his cock more firmly, your thumb swiping his slit and playing with the head. You begin to gently tug at his cock, the water and soap providing enough lubricant. Pliant and willing. Soft and obedient. He’s like putty in your hands.
He throbs in your palm and tries to rut into your hold, desperately chasing the friction needed to get him off. But it’s not his call to decide how quick he gets to reach euphoria.
You berate him softly, gently tutting in disapproval into his ear. “No, no Tae. That’s not how it goes, you know that. Relax,” you remind him again, knowing it’s the last thing he wants to do.
“I– I can’t,” he whines, water coursing along his jaw.
“You will.” It’s more a statement than it is a reassurance. “I know you can.”
You stroke him quicker and while you know it’s still not enough, your revel in the sounds of desire spilling from his parted lips. Your thighs clench in response, eager to have him inside you but even more keen to please him first. Your hand twists in a particular way that makes his deep groans turn into high-pitched whimpers, reaching a whole new level of desperate.
“Just like that?” You continue to twist, your pace picking up. You feel his heart beat erratically through his chest, his breath caught in his throat.
“Fuck– yes,” he whines, shamelessly thrusting into your fist. You pump him quicker now, squeezing and releasing in the right places, your other hand still tangled in his hair. He begins to cry incoherently, begging you for what he needs most.
You press more, open-mouthed kisses along his shoulders and smirk into his skin, watching him writhe and suffer for a little while longer before granting him his wish. “Cum for me, darling.”
He sings your name as if in a trance and groans rumble in his chest, wanton and drawn out. “Fuck– oh my god–” White, sticky ropes of cum coat his abdomen, quickly washed away by the water overhead and your grip on his hair softens.
You hum in approval, closing your eyes and feeling his cock throb hard in your hand, quickly softening. His whole body is now relaxed and no longer tense, although he heaves to catch his breath. He turns to face you, all traces of embarrassment gone from his eyes, replaced with a dangerous twinkle instead.
“Better?” You smirk knowingly.
He kneels down before you on the tiles and throws one leg over his shoulder, tracing his lips along the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, kissing his way up to your core. He looks up with wide eyes, awaiting your go-ahead. “Better.”
