Genres: Smut, Idol x Fan, Secret Encounter, Slight Angst, Fluffy Aftercare Warnings: Explicit sexual content, 18+ only, unprotected sex, slight power imbalance but fully consensual, cursing, detailed oral and penetrative scenes.
Word:1.3K+
Synopsis: After a chaotic fan meeting, you never expected to be the one Mingyu pulled into the back hallway. One minute you’re just another screaming fangirl in the crowd, the next his hands are on your waist and his voice is low in your ear asking if you want to see what happens when the fantasy gets real.
The venue still smelled like sweat and vanilla body spray when the last fan left. You were supposed to be gone too, but your best friend had dragged you to the side exit hoping for one last glimpse. Instead, a tall figure in a black hoodie and mask stepped out, eyes locking on you like he’d been waiting.
Mingyu.
He didn’t say much. Just tilted his head toward the dim corridor behind him and murmured, “You coming?” in that deep voice that made your knees weak on a good day. You followed because of course you did. Seventeen’s golden boy, all sharp jawline and broad shoulders, was looking at *you* like he was starving.
The door clicked shut behind you. The hallway was narrow, emergency lights casting everything in soft red. Mingyu tugged his mask down and suddenly he was right there, close enough that you could smell his cologne—something woody and expensive that made your head spin.
“You’re shaking,” he said, almost amused. His thumb brushed your bottom lip. “Nervous?”
“Understatement of the century,” you whispered.
He laughed softly, the sound rumbling through his chest. “Good. Means you’re real.” Then his mouth was on yours, hungry and a little clumsy like he’d been thinking about this longer than he should have. His hands slid down your sides, gripping your hips and pulling you flush against him. You could already feel how hard he was through his sweats, thick and insistent.
You broke the kiss first, dropping to your knees right there on the cold floor because if this was a once-in-a-lifetime fever dream, you were going to make it count. Mingyu’s eyes widened, then darkened with heat.
“Fuck… you don’t have to—”
“I want to,” you cut him off, fingers already tugging at the waistband. His cock sprang free, heavy and flushed, the tip glistening. He was bigger than you’d imagined in all those late-night fantasies, veined and perfect. You wrapped your hand around the base and gave one slow stroke, watching the way his abs clenched under his hoodie.
“Shit, baby,” he groaned, one hand threading gently into your hair.
You started with teasing licks along the underside, savoring the salty taste of him. Then you took him into your mouth, lips stretching around the head. Mingyu’s hips twitched but he held still, letting you set the pace. You bobbed deeper, hollowing your cheeks, using your hand to jerk what wouldn’t fit. The wet sounds echoed obscenely in the quiet hallway. Every time you swirled your tongue around the tip he let out these low, broken moans that went straight between your legs.
His fingers tightened in your hair. “You’re too good at that… gonna make me come already if you keep going like that.”
You pulled off with a pop, strings of spit connecting your lips to his cock. “That’s the plan for round one,” you said, voice hoarse, and dove back in. Faster this time. You jerked him with a tight fist while sucking hard on the head, and Mingyu cursed, thighs trembling. He came with a choked groan, thick spurts hitting your tongue. You swallowed as much as you could, the rest dripping down your chin. He looked wrecked—hoodie pushed up, chest heaving, eyes half-lidded.
He pulled you up and kissed you filthy, tasting himself on your tongue. “My turn.”
The next few seconds were a blur of clothes being shoved aside. He lifted you like you weighed nothing, pressing your back against the wall. Your legs wrapped around his waist. Mingyu’s fingers pushed your skirt up and found you soaked through your panties. He groaned in approval, rubbing slow circles over your clit before sliding two thick fingers inside you.
“So wet already. All for me?”
You nodded frantically, grinding down on his hand. He curled his fingers just right, hitting that spot that made stars burst behind your eyes. When you were right on the edge he pulled them out, smirking at your whine.
“Want you to come on my cock first.”
He lined himself up and pushed in slowly, stretching you open. The burn was perfect. Inch by inch until he bottomed out, hips flush against yours. You both moaned at the same time. He felt huge inside you, filling every part.
“Move,” you begged.
He did. Hard. Deep thrusts that slammed you against the wall with every stroke. Your hands clutched at his shoulders, nails digging in through his hoodie. The angle let him hit so deep you swore you could feel him in your stomach. One of his hands slipped between you, thumb rubbing your clit in time with his thrusts.
“Come on, baby. Let me feel you.”
You shattered around him, clenching so tight he cursed, pace stuttering. He fucked you through it, drawing it out until your legs were shaking.
He didn’t pull out. Instead he carried you—still impaled on his cock—to a small couch in what looked like a dressing room. He laid you down gently, finally kicking his sweats all the way off. Then he was on top of you, pushing back inside in one smooth thrust.
This position was slower, more intimate. Missionary but filthy. He hooked one of your legs over his shoulder, folding you in half so he could watch his cock disappear inside you. The wet slap of skin on skin filled the room.
“Look at me,” he said. His eyes were intense, hair falling into his face. You locked gazes as he drove into you, slower but no less deep. Every thrust ground against your clit. You came again, harder this time, crying out his name.
Mingyu followed right after, burying himself deep and spilling inside you with a long, guttural moan. He collapsed on top, careful not to crush you, face pressed into your neck.
For a while there was just heavy breathing and the sound of your heartbeats. He eventually pulled out, cum leaking down your thighs. He grabbed a towel from somewhere and cleaned you up with surprising gentleness, pressing soft kisses to your stomach and inner thighs.
“You okay?” he asked, voice rough.
“Better than okay.” You laughed shakily. “I think I just had an out-of-body experience.”
He grinned, that bright Mingyu smile that made millions weak. “Good. Because I’m not done with you yet.”
He flipped you over onto your hands and knees, pulling your hips up. The new angle made everything feel even deeper when he slid back in. Doggy style suited him—big hands gripping your ass, pulling you back onto his cock with every thrust. He reached around to play with your clit again, relentless.
You lost count of how many times you came. By the end you were a mess, face down in the cushions while he fucked you slow and lazy, chasing one last orgasm. When he finally came again, he stayed inside you for a long moment, kissing along your spine.
Aftercare was soft. He helped you fix your clothes, let you borrow his hoodie because yours was… ruined. Sat with you on the couch, big arm around your shoulders, playing with your hair.
“I don’t usually do this,” he admitted quietly. “But something about you in the crowd… I couldn’t stop looking.”
You smiled against his chest. “Lucky fangirl, I guess.”
He kissed the top of your head. “Stay a little longer?”
You did.
When you finally slipped out hours later, legs wobbly and lips swollen, you knew you’d never look at Seventeen performances the same way again. Especially not when Mingyu caught your eye from the stage during the next concert and smirked like he had a secret.
Your secret.
---
End notes:
First time writing mingyu smut and Fics, be gentle with me pls
In which the members are obsessed with the reader.
Series Pairing: ReaderXAteez members
Fic Pairing: Dom!SanXSub!ReaderXDom Mingi
18+ MDNI!!
Warnings: Angst, Smut, Fluff, Stalking and Harassment(not by any of the boys), Threesome, Reader is being chased in the beginning, Drinking, smoking (weed), things go VERY fast, doing the deed while intoxicated, fingering, Praise, unprotected piv, blowjob, multiple orgasms, mxm action, pet names, lmk if I missed anything!!
Your lungs burned. Your muscles ached. You felt like you were going to pass out from how long and hard you’d been running.
It was the middle of the night and you’d gone out to get a snack from the convenience store down the block when you’d noticed a man staring at you from across the street.
You had tried to ignore him as you walked briskly back to your apartment complex, but he had gained on you rather quickly, resulting in your current position.
…the middle of nowhere. Were you even near your apartment anymore?
Nothing looked familiar, though you couldn’t focus too hard since you were still running.
You could hear his footsteps echoing behind you.
You turned a corner and immediately spotted a man smoking a cigarette outside a stairwell.
You beelined for him, watching as his eyes widened.
“Help me!!” You shrieked, and he opened his arms, wrapping them around you as you crashed into him.
Your head snapped over your shoulder to look at the man who’d been chasing you, who was now hightailing it out of there.
You huffed, forehead resting against this random man’s shoulder as you tried not to sob. He rubbed your back hesitantly, obviously still confused.
“I’m… sorry… that guy… was chasing me.” You explained breathlessly.
“I noticed,” He replied. You stepped back a little, shyly tucking some hair behind your ear.
“Could you tell me where I am? I… was running for a while.” You asked timidly.
He chuckled and flicked his cigarette into the trash can since it went out. “You’re on fifty-sixth. By the Kroger,”
Your eyes widened. You’d run that far?
Your apartment was like twenty minutes away. You sighed, glancing around.
“Do you want to come in?” He asked. “You seem like you need some water or something.” He added, and you glanced up at the building. It was an old townhouse.
“My friends are upstairs. We’re watching the game,” He added, and despite your initial suspicions, you trusted him.
“Okay. I’m Y/N. What’s your name?”
“San,” He replied as he led you up.
Upon San opening the door to his place, seven men blinked back at you.
Your face must have gone pale, because San muttered something about them all being good guys before gently pushing you through the door so he wasn’t just standing in the hall.
You smiled timidly and waved at the other men. “Hi, I’m Y/N. Um. I was being chased, and San helped me,” You explained, feeling as if you had to.
They all said hi as well, then congratulated San on his heroism. He disappeared into the kitchen and you walked closer to the couches where everyone was sitting to find a spot.
One of the taller men smiled at you and patted the spot next to him, so you quickly sat. He took a swig from his beer and said, “I’m Mingi.”
You giggled softly. “Its nice to meet you, Mingi.”
San returned a moment later with a bottle of water. You thanked him and he sat in the empty spot on the other side of you.
You were quiet for a while, just focusing on calming down and drinking water.
During an ad break, one of them- his name was Yeosang, if you remembered correctly- got up to get something, returning with an ash tray, a blunt, and a lighter a few minutes later.
As he lit it, the smell of weed slowly permeated the apartment.
The blunt was passed around, and Mingi offered it to you. Accepting it, you took a large hit then passed it to San as you exhaled the smoke.
For some reason you had only just registered how big San’s arms were.
One was resting on the back of the couch behind your head, and the other was holding a beer, but he set the beer on the coffee table when you passed the blunt to him. He thanked you quietly.
He glanced over when he realized you were staring and gave you a smirk, setting off butterflies in your stomach. He and Mingi were both so warm.
“Like what you see, sweetheart?” He mused. You blushed and nodded shyly.
The blunt was passed around a few more times until it went out. You were feeling nice and floaty by then.
San leaned closer. “Do you want anything other than water?” He asked.
“What do you have?” You asked in return.
He motioned for you to follow him and stood, so you stood too.
He led you into the kitchen. You leaned against the counter and peered into the fridge, spotting the vodka in the door.
“I’ll have vodka. Do you have lemon juice?” You asked. He hummed, rummaging through the rather crowded fridge.
“Yes,” He said, finally spotting it in the back.
Five minutes later, you happily took the first sip of the drink he’d made for you. He’d mixed it well.
You smiled at him, and he smiled back, brushing some hair out of your face.
“You know… I hope I don’t sound creepy. But I think you’re really pretty,” He confessed.
His arms rested on either side of you, caging you in. It made your brain feel even more fuzzy.
You shook your head. “I don’t think you sound creepy. I think you’re very cute as well.” You murmured, taking a few sips from your drink before setting it aside and running your fingers up his arms, feeling his soft skin and the muscles that twitched at your touch.
Maybe the weed had made you more confident, but you looked up at him with a flirty smile.
His hands locked onto your waist and lifted you so you were sitting on the counter instead of leaning against it. He looked up at you with a pleading expression.
“Can I kiss you?” He asked.
You nodded. He leaned closer and you squeezed his arms as his lips met yours.
He was an amazing kisser, and your brain struggled to keep up as his tongue licked into your mouth.
One of his hands slid up to your throat, not applying any pressure, just letting it stay there.
You didn’t fight his attempt to dominate the kiss, you simply kissed him back with as much passion as he was, letting him do what he pleased.
You hummed excitedly and inhaled a few lungfuls of air as he moved lower to kiss your jaw and find the sensitive spot on your neck.
You let your eyes close, just enjoying the feeling as you kneaded his arms.
You heard footsteps approaching the kitchen and your eyes flew open, fear striking through you before you realized San didn’t seem bothered by it.
Mingi appeared around the corner and froze, taking in the scene before him. He smirked, throwing his beer bottle in the recycling before taking up the space San wasn’t.
You looked up at the taller man, eyelids fluttering as you suppressed a moan. San had found the spot on your neck and was attacking it fiercely.
“Ohhhh my godddd,” You whimpered, trying to remember to breathe.
“You’re so cute like this,” Mingi said, and then he kissed you, too, as San shifted slightly to accommodate space for him.
You whined and he chuckled as he started running his hands all over your thighs.
You suddenly realized what was about to happen and tried not to let your nerves get the best of you.
Mingi could see it on your face and murmured something about being safe, and they would stop if you wanted them to.
You nodded, still trying to remind yourself to breathe as Mingi started kissing the other side of your neck.
He was also an amazing kisser, and you wondered for a fleeting moment if they all were.
San’s fingers pressed farther into the fabric of your sweatpants, and you squirmed when he passed over your clit, unable to fight off the shiver that ran up your spine.
“Is this okay?” He asked, and you nodded. San slipped his hand into your pants, running his fingers over your underwear, pressing a bit harder on your clit. You suppressed another moan.
“Please,” You whined, and he smiled.
“So impatient, you barely know us,” He teased, but in that moment, you couldn’t bring yourself to care.
He obliged you anyway and moved your underwear to the side, holding his fingers up to Mingi’s face.
To your surprise and delight, he immediately started sucking on them, his tongue swirling around San’s fingers.
Once San was satisfied, he retracted them from Mingi’s mouth and slowly slid them inside you. You hummed, eyes fluttering once more.
Your body stiffened, and you gripped the edge of the counter as San worked his fingers like magic.
“Good girl,” San mumbled, and it went straight to your lower abdomen.
They dragged against your insides while Mingi’s thumb worked in circles on your clit. You were so crossfaded, and it made everything so much better.
You moaned, slightly louder, though you doubted they were worried about anyone hearing. The TV was so loud you could probably make all the noise you wanted.
“Who knew you were such a good girl? Taking it so well for us,” San purred, and you nearly came on the spot.
San felt you clench around his fingers and smiled. You whimpered, squeezing your eyes shut to avoid the embarrassment.
Mingi’s large, warm hands caressed your side and lower tummy, mumbling more praises in your ear to rile you up.
And rile you, it did. You were panting now, the coil in your tummy winding tighter and tighter the more San’s fingers fucked into you.
Your back arched into his chest as he planted gentle kisses under your ear, hand steady and strong as his fingertips brushed your G-spot.
You were cumming faster than you could warn them, your face going slack as you let out a long, low moan and your thighs shook as San helped you through it.
“That’s it,” He encouraged gently.
You opened your eyes, seeing both of them staring wide eyed at your cunt in awe.
Mingi glanced back up at your face, smiling at you and kissing you again.
“Is it my turn now?” He asked softly, and you nodded frantically.
The two men both chuckled at how eager you were, and you wrapped one hand around San’s neck to pull him closer, but instead of kissing him, you kissed Mingi.
San was satisfied with this since he’d already gotten a turn, caressing your body while standing out of Mingi’s way as he ran his knuckles through your folds and making you shiver.
Mingi’s hands were much larger than San’s, and you only imagined how big his cock was… if you even got there tonight. God, you hoped so.
Mingi was impatient, much more than San was, and he mumbled a few “sorry”s as he licked his fingers and shoved them inside you.
You let out a strangled moan and rested your head on his chest, trying to adjust to how long and thick his fingers were.
Were every one of them sex gods? You felt like you’d died and gone to heaven with how lucky your night ended up.
Well, not at first. Maybe you’d fallen down the rabbit hole?
San started kissing your neck again, his hands reaching up to caress your breasts, rolling your nipples between his fingers through your bra.
You fought off a shiver as your back arched, gasping for air at the stimulation.
Mingi was stretching you out, you realized. Your mind kicked into second gear as the excitement of what that meant flooded your veins.
You rocked your hips into his hand, your eyes rolling back again at how it felt.
He rubbed your G-spot perfectly every time. A string of curses left your mouth, muffled by his chest.
You were cumming in record time. Grabbing onto Mingi’s arms like your life depended on it.
He kissed you a few times, mumbling praises that made you want him impossibly more.
“Wanna fuck you,” He said, and you were nodding before he finished. “‘M gonna take you to my room,” He said, scooping you up.
San followed. The others didn’t seem to notice, too engrossed in the TV.
Mingi set you down on his bed and you scrambled to spread your legs, giving San a dazed smile as he kneeled by your head.
Mingi undid his belt, pushing his pants down his thick, toned thighs.
You stared at his boxers, eyes widening when those came off, too, and the biggest dick you’d ever seen was standing at attention between his legs.
He positioned himself between your legs and slowly pushed in as he whispered sweet nothings to you, trying to soothe you as he stretched you open even more.
You moaned loudly, not caring if the others heard now that you were in a separate room.
San caressed your face and took his pants off, too, guiding his rock hard dick to your lips.
You eagerly sucked him off, moans muffled by him as Mingi pounded into you.
The obscene sounds of skin slapping against skin and you choking on San’s dick filled the room, sounding borderline pornographic.
Mingi’s large hands pulled at your breasts, the cold of his silver rings sending shocks through your system.
He leaned forward and caught San’s lips with his, and you watched as they made out above you.
One of San’s hands reached over and played with Mingi’s nipple, making his thrusts falter just slightly as he moaned.
You cried out as his momentarily wobbly thrusts hit a new spot inside you.
He was tearing you apart. You could feel yourself going dumb on his cock, hitting every possible spot you could imagine.
San slid out of your mouth and he stuck his fingers inside instead.
They disappeared, then reappeared a second later on your clit. You whined, hips bucking up involuntarily. Mingi’s strong palms wrapped around your hips, pinning you down.
He was so deep, and it pulled a scream from your lungs. Another orgasm crashed over you and you sighed deeply, trying to stay grounded in reality even though they were making it so hard.
Mingi laughed, eyes lighting up. His hips began to stutter, and he moaned as he came, his hand coming up to caress your lower abdomen as he filled you up.
He thrusted shallowly as you kissed him, fucking the cum impossibly further into your tummy.
You panted, smiling as San leaned down to kiss you, too. The two of them took turns until Mingi grabbed San’s jaw and kissed his lips, biting and pulling at them with his teeth.
San held Mingi’s hip, fingers twitching. You watched, still dazed from your orgasm.
Mingi growled into San’s mouth, and you couldn't tell if it was involuntary or if he was challenging him to something.
San certainly took it as a challenge, scooting his knees closer. His hand wrapped around Mingi’s cock and the other man moaned brokenly as if he hadn’t been expecting the touch.
San’s fist worked quickly and rhythmically, and Mingi whimpered as he tried to overcome the overstimulation. You ran your knuckles up and down his side gently to hopefully soothe him.
Mingi’s eyes rolled back and he hummed softly, chest heaving at San’s ministrations.
“That’s it,” San murmured again. It didn’t take much more until Mingi’s abdomen flexed and he painted his stomach with his own cum.
San leaned down and licked it up, causing Mingi to grip the shorter man’s shoulder for support.
San turned to you a moment later, licking his lips like a crazed animal to ensure he didn’t miss any stray droplets.
Mingi collapsed next to you, sighing softly.
San smiled gently at you. “Got another one in you?” He asked, and you nodded, just as eagerly as before, albeit still dazed.
His smile grew, and he motioned for you to get up. You struggled onto your knees and he motioned again for you to turn around.
You did as you were told, and one of his arms brought yours behind your back, holding them there.
He used his knees to separate your legs and you had to suppress a gasp when you felt his dick poking against your back.
You let your head rest against his shoulder. He murmured more praise into your ear, rubbing your clit a few times before he guided himself to your entrance and pushed in.
You let out another broken moan, back arching against his chest. He began to move and you continued moaning after each thrust, the new angle hitting spots that made you see stars.
His fingers on your clit didn’t stop and a rather pathetic whine was pulled from your chest, making him moan, too. “You sound so pretty,” He murmured breathlessly.
You pulsed around him and he cursed, thighs slapping harder against yours. The hold he had on your arms made his momentum stronger as he fucked you stupid.
Mingi had recovered from his orgasm and appeared below you, his hands soothingly running up and down your thighs.
He propped himself up on his elbows and the next thing you knew, his mouth was on your clit.
San moved his fingers out of the way, holding your hip instead. You groaned at how good Mingi’s mouth felt on your clit, eyes rolling back as he sucked and slobbered all over your skin.
Your orgasm once again crashed into you faster than you could comprehend, your pussy pulsing and fluttering around San’s cock, sucking him in even more.
He moaned into your ear but his thrusts didn’t waver.
He fucked you through your orgasm, not stopping when you began to twitch and writhe from overstimulation.
Mingi was holding your thighs, still eating you out like you were his last meal.
San didn’t seem annoyed by your constant movement, instead he seemed a bit amused.
His thrusts were strong and deep, making you gasp for air as pleasure coursed through your veins and rendered you dumber than you’d ever been. You were addicted.
“Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease,” you babbled, making San chuckle. “Please what, baby?” He asked, knowing you may not have even registered that you were speaking.
You groaned as your body locked up again, sending you over the edge for the fourth time. You’d never cum this much in one night. It felt heavenly.
“That’s our good girl,” Mingi growled, and you nearly came a fifth time just from his words alone.
You were squeezing San so tightly his orgasm was fast approaching. He thrusted a few more times before he was spilling into you.
You sighed, loving the idea and feeling of both their loads leaking out of you. You collapsed onto Mingi, who had moved toward the headboard.
He caught you, wrapping his arms around you as you settled against his chest.
San moved off the bed to grab a towel and cleaned everyone up before he laid down too, kissing Mingi again. You watched, entranced.
Contents: porn without plot pretty much, headcanons about cockwarming (author's barely disguised need to be railed hard but also be held 😔), filthy COCKWARMING, soft COCKWARMING, tsundere gamer bf seongje, threatening, humiliation kink, lovebites, teasing, is it even a seongje fanfic without a little sadism, little angry sex but the rest is 🥺
Synopsis: Your toasted marshmallow kept his stick warm. At least that's how Geum seongje described the long number of hours you've spent cockwarming him. That's it. That's the plot.
Author's note: FINALLY after a month I was working on a different seongje fanfic when i realised that I wrote like.. 1000 words just about cockwarming him 💀💀💀
So i thought this idea deserved its own post :) Hope you enjoy this fanfic!
P.s someone shoot me i need to be his marshmallow so fucking bad 😔💔
Masterlist
You fell into a trap, not just once but over and over again. It was a trap that wasn’t a cage or a prison cell with metal bars. It was a trap where one moment you felt so comfortable, like you belonged there. And the next moment your limbs began to hurt making you feel like you’re a broken machine, like you were not needed anymore. It felt like a punishment because you were being used, it was degrading and filthy. But it also felt like a reward because you let him use you, it was so intimate and loving. How you felt every so often depended on the person that set that trap; Geum seongje. And this trap in question was seongje’s lap. You were a cumdump made to keep cockwarming him.
You weren’t suffering, but your legs aching because of being in the same position made it feel like you were. Sometimes they were so numb you didn’t feel them. Yet you sat on his thick cock while resting your head on his shoulders. You never asked any questions, just fulfilled your duty as his cumdump. What’s ironic is that seongje doesn’t ask you to cockwarm him anymore. As soon as he sits down in his gaming chair you knew what to do. It’s muscle memory, you’ve done it god knows how many times. Because of that you easily slide down his shaft. Your guts were rearranged to serve him, and your cunt was moulded like clay only for his dick to fit. He didn't say it but seongje believed that was your best talent, to keep him tender inside your stretched, delicate walls. Can you blame him? Your pussy was so ripe and mellow like a peach. It was obviously MADE to be stuffed.
During cockwarming seongje would always be fully dressed. One would think that to get comfortable it’s better for him to take his pants completely off. But to him cockwarming wasn’t just about keeping his dick cozy, it was an act of submission from you. Sliding he’s pants off a little for his cock to spring free was enough, while YOU on the other hand completely had your pants off. It was proving how desperate and pathetic you are for him. Your ass would be exposed, which he liked glancing down at with a smirk from time to time. Sometimes on colder days you would be wearing a dress or a nightgown to cover yourself up. He obviously preferred the warmer days.
Usually when other couples cockwarm both partners act intimate. Holding hands, rubbing each other’s back, lovingly looking at each other etc. But that wasn’t the case with geum seongje. Only you wrapped your arms around him. Sometimes he’s neck or sometimes he’s waist. He didn’t do the same. He’s hands were occupied playing games. One hand swiftly controlling the mouse and the other pressing on keys. He was cold and distant. Nothing was more important to him than he’s game, maybe not even you…
Seongje doesn’t usually appreciate you cockwarming him which sometimes makes you a little sad. You craved his validation, his compliments. What more can you do to please him? During moments like this you felt like you could easily get up and walk away. But you never tried. You didn’t want to. Seongje might not even stop you. He was too focused on his game, not bothered to even glance at you. If you walk away he will find it amusing instead, probably counting down the number of minutes till you crawl back to his lap. Yes, you might be pathetic, but it’s not your fault. His lap was inviting like a fireplace in a cool winter day. And you craved that warmth, to be engulfed by his fire, to be consumed by his fiery love. You loved the feeling of his bulge resting deep inside you, his tip almost closer to touching your cervix. His cock was like a dragon breathing fire. The sheer size of it makes your eyes roll back, but it also made you feel so hot, full and complete. Seongje knew how eager you were for all this, and he used it for he’s best interest.
Seongje is pretty nonchalant during cockwarming. Usually there's only two times where he definitely reacts. One is when you first straddle his lap. He slightly closes his eyes and groans when you first take his leaking cock out of his pants. His toes curl a little in excitement when he thinks about what's about to come. The other time is when he finally feel his cock sliding through your hole. He sometimes swears at the pleasure of your walls consuming him. "Fuck just like that" he would say. Or sometimes he makes a low mmh sound, it's a sound of approval from him.
Don't get him wrong, he loves cockwarming just like you do. But he's pretty good at hiding his eagerness. His eagerness would only show when he's annoyed. For example, instead of sitting on his cock right away, sometimes you like to admire the veins running down his shaft. You trace your finger along on them. Seongje of course gets a little arrogant when he sees you admiring his dick. "It's pretty isn't it?" he would ask out of nowhere with a smug grin. "Just fucking sit on it already or I will shove it inside another girl" aaand that's how he is.
Once he's inside you being the tsundere he is he wouldn’t even acknowledge you were there sitting on he’s cock. Well he didn’t have to. It wasn’t anything special. It was mundane. You wouldn’t thank a tap for giving you water right? You wouldn’t appreciate a light bulb for giving your light right? they were objects. Objects that were made with one purpose in mind. Seongje cherished you, no doubt in that. But sometimes you were just a tool for him. Right now your cunt was he’s own little glove. It kept the most important part of him warm and settled.
Cockwarming is supposed to be relaxing. But that wasn’t always the case with someone impulsive like seongje. Sometimes he would get frustrated at he’s game and unconsciously start shaking he’s leg. He only realises you’re there with his dick buried in you when he hears your whimpering. His face instantly light up with a grin. Being the jerk he is he start shaking he’s leg even more on purpose. Your hands would be tightly clasped around his shoulders, your nails digging into your own skin. You were trying not to make a noise, trying not to make it obvious that all you wanted was to get railed hard. But seongje knew how much of a whore you were. He too got hard right away when he heard your muffled whimpers. So, he stopped the leg movement right away. He didn’t want to give in first. He tried to hold himself back until your pathetically beg for his cock to pound you. Only then he would start fucking your pussy. He’s favourite thing to say before roughly pounding you was “Don’t blame me. YOU asked for this” When in reality seongje himself was desperate to fuck your hole as much as you craved to be stuffed by him.
It’s not he’s fault that sometimes he forgets that you’re still cockwarming him. Because half of the time even YOU forget that you’re glued to his cock. It’s similar to how trees are always attached to the ground. There wouldn’t be any other way. A long taproot of a tree burying itself so deep in wet soil. The soil fostering the taproot just like how your pussy nurture his cock. You nourish the precious milk seongje spilled inside you without letting any of it go to waste. Like how the soil helps flowers bloom, something too will flourish inside you one day. Like how the soil cultivates little seeds to grow into trees, you too will give birth to another life. All thanks to seongje’s hot cum that you worked so hard to sustain. It was nothing out of ordinary. It's just how nature work.
He only values your existence when you’re NOT here. When you’re not home and he’s gaming he realises something is wrong, everything feels empty.. He gives his bulge a squeeze. “Ahhh.. y/n’s not here.” He snickers to himself but get mad at you. Where the hell did you go? Your only purpose was to keep his cock nice and warm in your cunt.
The minute you come back home he pulled you into his lap. He forcefully remove your clothes to make you sit on his cock without any prepping or lube. It hurts but you sit there cockwarming him anyway. Tears form in your eyes from the blissful pain of his fat cock tearing your hole apart. “I’m already having a bad day because you were gone. So don’t you DARE fucking move.” Seongje groaned. He didn’t have anytime for your bullshit. When seongje was mad he intentionally said even more brutal things. Things that were ruthless and inhumane, but they were fierce enough to make you even more wet.
“Should I break your legs so you won’t go anywhere again?”
“If you move I will smash your head on this table. Understand?”
“Maybe I should kill you and keep your dead body as my mitten."
"That still wouldn't change anything though would it? Even if you're dead your cunt still won't stop clenching around me"
Unfortunately all these evil whispering and his sadistic laugh made you EVEN hornier. He would continue playing his game, ignoring you as usual. Sometimes he muttered swear words under he’s breath, which obviously made you even wetter. He then smashed his fist on the table which made you jump a little. Seongje felt you clenching nonstop around his cock. And that was his last straw.
He grabbed your hips and shoved you against his table. He realised his cock slid off you so he looked down to grasp his tip and shove it inside you again. But he realised his pants were stained. You were embarrassed when you realised your wetness left a mark on him again. This clearly wasn’t the first time. It happened a lot when you two were cockwarming. But seongje never failed to get amused by the wet slimy patch you left on him like a snail. This was one of the reasons he never took his pants off.
He looked at you with he’s familiar sadistic smile. “Ahh y/n you’re really pathetic you know that?” he would laugh in your face, humiliating you before giving the treat you eagerly craved. He loved talking dirty to you, but he never uttered the same sentence twice. It was always something new to get you to react to him.
“I wish I had another cock to stuff you with. That would satisfy your greedy cunt right? seongje chuckled. "Or I could fuck your little brown hole too. I could stuff both of your holes at the same damn time”
He would continue making a living mess out of you until he rushed an orgasm over you. Seongje’s eyes would be wide shut, every part of his being savouring the way your cunt grips onto him like a vice. No matter how many times he fucked your hole, you just.. wouldn’t get completely loose. It was just the way he liked.
You would be gripping onto him like a lifeline. Your body prepares you for the best part that was yet to come. And that was when seongje erupts inside you like an intense volcano, he’s molten lava filling you up to the brim, blazing your walls. You can stay like that forever, his cock warm and thick inside you like a burning candle, he’s cum oozing out of your hole decorating your thighs like hot melted wax.
All these moments make it feels like that he's the one in control all the time. But that's not essentially true. You had your own moments where you had him in a chokehold. You had to have your share of fun too, even when you knew the consequences that came with it. So sometimes you initiated things first by peppering soft kisses along he's neck. You knew his weak spots as much as he knew yours. You nuzzle into his neck and trace your lips along his adam's apple. Seongje doesn't stop you, he just lets you do your thing. He responded to your touches silently. His breath hitches, he unconsciously takes a gulp and his adam's apple moves up and down. You feel him getting rock hard inside you. But he maintained he's composure. "Getting needy are we?" seongje smirks and lets out a breathy laugh. He whispers in your ear, "Just wait until I finish this round".
Sometimes you get carried away leave love bites all over he's exposed skin and seongje continue playing his game as if he's not getting marked right now. He teases you from time to time with a cocky smile. Things like "Do you need me that bad baby?" You get embarrassed and pull yourself away from him. And when you do, he pulls you back towards him. "Keep sucking on my neck. I like it" OF COURSE he likes it. The next day he wears a hoodie or a tshirt that exposes his neck on purpose. For you it's embarrassing. You wonder what kind of drugs you were on last night. But for him? You've never seen a bigger smile on his face before. He proudly wears the hickies you left on him like a medal. If someone glances at his love bites he acts cocky. But if someone is giving him a judgmental stare then one thing awaits for them: his fist. And before that a "Tf are you looking at?" stare.
You had a huge effect on him, which is funny because you still have to tug on his hoodie to even get him to look at you. When he doesn't you continue giving him doe eyes. But you forgot what you needed, you ended up staring at his face. His tiny mole... the glasses resting above his nose bridge.. you breathed in all his details. "You're so handsome" you blurted out. "I know" he said without even looking at you. Being the jerk he is he didnt want to give in yet. "Pftt" you scoffed. Seongje might be your boyfriend but he's still a piece of shit. You got upset and you went back to resting your head on his shoulders. That's when seongje stopped biting the inside of his cheek and smiled, blush crept unto his cheeks. She called me handsome. His ears got slightly pink as little hearts started swirling around his head. But you had no idea.
Time passes by and you still keep on hugging him like a teddy bear. He's warm embrace was a total contradiction of his ice cold persona. But there were times where he was sweet, where he actually acknowledged your presence. Like when he realises you’re on your own little world daydreaming and all that, seongje would snap you back to reality by asking “What are you thinking of? Is there anything more important than me? Tell me.”
So one time you did question him about something you were wondering for a while. You were a little embarrassed, but you wanted to know. “How nice does your cock feel when we cockwarm?” You asked seongje.
He was a little taken back. But he knew what to say right away. It was as if the whole time he spent with you was preparing him for this question. Seongje clicked on his tongue, ready to impress you with his words.
“Your cunt feels like a toasted marshmallow. Roasted on the outside, but soft, pink and mushy on the inside. My cock is like a stick. It slides in very easily. I like how your marshmallow is warm and sticky for me.”
You were resting your head against he’s shoulders but you shifted a little to look at him. Aint no way he came up with that imagery. You thought to yourself. Seongje was chronically online. Maybe he saw that on a forum?
Seongje’s face turned into a smug expression when he saw how you were impressed with what he came up with. “What? You don’t believe in my pussy poetry?” seongje scoffed. He’s not as talentless like you think he is.
You face was flushed. Every word he said got jumbled in your head. The only thing you recalled was that he called you a marshmallow. A soft marshmallow.. HIS marshmallow..
It tugged at your heartstrings. Sometimes his gestures were not enough; it was the bare fucking minimum. But it still made you blush. Like when he nibbles your ear softly, you could hear him breathing, it’s a reminder for you that he’s there. He doesn’t have to say anything, but he’s still there. Sometimes he touches your earlobe gently with lips, but it’s never a kiss. Sometimes he grazes he’s teeth on your ear, just a little tug to tease you. You can tell that he’s enjoying it too. You feel he’s smile on your skin which sends shivers down your spine. Sometimes he rests he’s head on top of yours, breathing in your scent, a little reminder that you’re there, there for him. Most importantly all these moments happen while he was still inside you. That’s what made it even more special and heartwarming.
Forget about all these little gestures. He gets the SOFTEST when he realises you fell asleep on him while clinging on to his arms like a little koala bear. Only then he takes he’s hand away from the keyboard and wrap he’s arm around you. He would get a little proud about how you’re so comfortable in he’s lap. He silently admires the way you’re snuggling onto his chest like a baby. He brushes the hair strands off your face and kisses your temple, gently enough to not wake you. He would think to himself, “Look at you, finally getting your well deserved rest. But you’re still keeping my cock warm hmm? Such a good girl” Even when you were sleeping you nestled his cock like a dove keeping her eggs warm.
His heart might be softer during this moment, but he’s cock is not. Seongje would still keep you on his cock for a while, it’s where you belong after all. He only lays you down in bed once he himself gets sleepy.
He felt the most vulnerable now, but not just because he can finally let his guard down since nothing is pressuring him. It was also because he would completely let he’s intimate side take over him. It’s just him and you inside one another, but even you’re sleeping. Only during this time he’s world goes completely silent. Only your little snores can be heard, which he sometimes records so he can bully you later. The next day he definitely makes fun of you for drooling on he’s shoulder and snoring on top of him like the cocky bastard he is. But the night before when you were still sleeping? he softly whispered thousands of “I love you” to you like a prayer. You had no idea.
Contents: Spit kink, insertion (he's glasses 😩), degrading, breath play/choking (using he's chain 🥴), dacryphilia/crying kink, face fucking, face slapping, squirting, hair grabbing/pulling, biting, filming, humiliation, cum eating, possessive kink, pain kink/sadism (he enjoys this a normal amount <- literally laughs in your face lmao), you make a little joke about him which pisses him off so he fucks your brains out.
Synopsis: Geum seongje is a freak and so are you. Sex with him is never boring especially when he's so unpredictable. But in such an unpredictable world there was one constant, he's glasses stays on.
Author's note: I usually don't write fanfics but this guy had taken over my brain. The weak hero class fandom comparing Seongje in he's orange jacket to Vector from Despicable me makes a special appearance here sksk. Would you guys believe me i had to pull up an image of parts of glasses to write this 😭.
Also TMI this was inspired by a porn video i saw long ago when the guy came on he's own glasses and the girl licked it.. my mind screamed SEONGJE 😩😩😩. Hope you enjoy this one :)
Masterlist
Geum seongje had one unspoken rule: he’s glasses STAYS ON. Some may think he’s glasses don’t suit he’s bad boy nature or match he’s powerful aura. But seongje always took pride in wearing he’s thick rimmed spectacles. He could’ve easily worn contact lenses if he gave a fuck about what other people thought of him. Well it’s not like anyone is bold enough to throw insults in he’s face or call him blind. Practically, there was only two definite occasions where he would remove he’s glasses and that’s when he’s showering or sleeping. If he did take he’s glasses off in another situation.. you just know there will be a bloodbath.
It was the same case between you two. He didn’t have a special reason to take he’s glasses off when he’s kissing you or even when eating you out. He enjoyed the slight discomfort when he’s glasses pressed tightly against your cheeks when kissing you. He liked looking down at you through he’s thick frames when you’re sucking him off. He didn’t even find it annoying to adjust he’s glasses every now and then when he’s thrusting deep into you like a wild animal. He’s specs were a part of he’s identity and oh he was proud.
It wasn’t just him who loved he’s glasses. You thought it was extremely hot too. So it’s not surprising that you take any chance to admire he’s god given face, even right now when seongje is having a nap while lying down next to you. He’s specs were slightly tilted, almost falling off he’s nose bridge. He’s messy, wavy hair covering he’s forehead while some strands were falling over he’s thick frames. He’s lips parted slightly and he’s snoring a little. You giggled to yourself. Seongje is adorable at times like these.
“What the hell are you laughing about” he’s voice made you jump.
“I thought you were sleeping?”
“Yeah until now”. He got up and leaned against the bedframe. “What was so funny?” he asked with genuine curiosity. Seongje desperately wanted to know everything about you. He wanted to keep you close to him, he craved to know everything that was on your mind. Something made you laugh? You better tell him what it is before he starts sulking for the next 2 hours.
“I just realised you look like this guy I know.. especially with this orange jacket you’re wearing”. You were trying to hold back your laugh.
“A guy?” Seongje furrowed he’s eyebrows. He was a little puzzled. As ridiculous as it sounds he thought to himself you knew other guys?..
“Alright before you get all serious I was joking. It’s just that right now you look like Vector from Despicable me” You hit him in the shoulder and started laughing.
“Who the fuck is that?” Seongje pulled up he’s phone right away and searched who this guy is. If you’re comparing this vector guy to him he must be good looki-
“Y/N are you kidding me?” Seongje couldn’t believe what he was seeing. What was meant to be a little joke got on he’s nerves.
You stopped laughing when you saw how serious he was. He slammed he’s phone down on the bedside table and got up. He started poking he’s cheek with he’s tongue and when he turned around to look at you, he’s eyes were stone cold. You immediately knew where this was going. He scoffed. It looked like he’s deciding what to do with you.
“I think I’ve been too easy on you” He let out a bitter laugh. “I don’t let people who insult me get away with it Y/N”
Adrenaline rushed all over you. This is exciting but it’s also terrifying. Dealing with someone so unpredictable like seongje in the first place was like playing with fire. It’s fun to dance around a bonfire but one little mistake and he can make your limbs replace the wood that’s burning. That’s how ruthless he was. But it’s not like you did anything wrong.
“Sorry I was just joking. I think you took it the wrong way. Not my fault your ego gets bruised easily” oops the last sentence was not needed.
Seonje’s eyes widened at your remark. In a flash he’s hands grabbed your jaw and he’s fingers tightened around your cheekbones. “Say that I again. I dare you” He’s voice was so stern it gave you goosebumps. You were testing he’s patience.
You wanted to stand by what you said. Because it was true. It was time seongje stopped acting like a toddler throwing tantrums at every little thing. But you knew better than to provoke him even more. So all you did was maintain eye contact with him even when he’s fingers kept tightening around your cheeks. He’s nails were now digging into your skin. It was painful and you felt like he might rip your mouth out. You started whimpering a little but was still brave enough to keep looking up at him.
He laughed at how you were enduring the pain. He let go of your face roughly and you were taken back by the strong force. He thought you were a good girl for not repeating what you said earlier. So he wanted to kiss your cheek where there is now a visible mark from he’s nails. He leaned down with a smirk and tilted he’s head close enough to leave a peck on your cheek but you turned your head around to avoid him. You giving him a cold shoulder was he’s last straw. Seongje’s smirk vanished from he’s face.
You realised you dug your own grave when he grabbed a handful of your hair and yanked you on the ground. You face was now right in front of he’s hard bulge. He then started taking he’s clothes off. One by one, he’s jacket, he’s hoodie and he’s pants all while maintaining intense eye contact with you. For each piece of clothing he took off, he’s eyes got darker. It was a silent warning. He’s death glare meant that this was going to be a long night. This one minute of him stripping he’s clothes away was the only break you were going to get.
The moment he grabbed the waistband of he’s underwear you broke eye contact. You looked down to see the print of he’s fat cock. Excitement rushed through your veins and he noticed. He started grinning and let out a low chuckle. “Are you so eager to see my cock slut?” He was so amused. Two minutes ago you were comparing him to a silly cartoon character but here you are waiting for he’s veiny dick to spring out of he’s underwear so you could drool all over it.
“Yes p-please. I want to taste you” you were pathetic enough to beg for he’s cock and my god he loved it. He waited no more to shove he’s cock in your mouth. He started groaning as soon as he felt your wet tongue roll all over he’s foreskin. “Fuck Y/N fuck just like that” Seongje threw he’s head back and kept groaning. You started licking he’s shaft up and down, your tongue memorising each vein covering he’s cock. Seongje took this time to grope your boobs and take them out from your top. He kept massaging them, bouncing them in he’s palm like a tennis ball. He’s fingers toyed with your hard nipples, pinching them to swing your tits as you kept sucking on he’s thick cock. He then let go of your tits to grab a handful of your hair and pull your head back. He took he’s cock out of your wet mouth.
You were thrilled to see what he would do next. “Strip, and make it quick” He ordered and you didn’t wait. You took off your clothes in a hurry while seongje kept a smug grin on he’s face. You were now completely naked and was on the ground kneeling down for him. He sighed. But that was a sigh of excitement. He then lifted he’s hand up to he’s face and massaged the bridge of he’s nose. “Hmm you might not really like this Y/N, not that I give a shit.”
What the hell does that supposed to mean? your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He briefly scrunched he’s nose with a grin. He brought he’s hand up to he’s face and using two fingers he pinched the bridge of he’s glasses to take them off. Your eyes widened and you slightly gasped. This never really happened between you two before. Without he’s thick frames he’s cold stare felt more raw. There was no mercy or tenderness in those eyes. You knew what it meant if removed he’s specs. You just knew you wouldn’t be able to walk tomorrow.
But all your thoughts faded away when he tried to put he’s own glasses on you. He gripped your face, not gently, but not too roughly, just strong enough to make your core wet. He slid he’s glasses on your face. He adjusted the end pieces properly on both your ears and made sure those specs were sitting on your nose bridge beautifully. You were taken back. You knew how precious those specs are to him so why would he even-
Those lenses were so strong that it stung your eyes and you vision became a little blurry. “Seongje what’s going on”
“You’ll know in a second”
You felt something cold and little heavy on your neck. Seongje just put he’s chain around your neck. “Seongje what are you trying to do??” it was so unlike him to stop in the middle of sex. Seongje grabbed the orange jacket he was wearing earlier and covered your shoulders with it. He then grabbed your phone and took a picture of your state so you can look at it later.
“You know Y/N I couldn’t get off because this was bothering me so much. I had to see it myself. And nope, I look nothing like that Vector guy” He sounded like he just made a fascinating discovery.
“You pulled your cock out of my mouth for this?” you were pissed. He made you get excited for nothing.
“Did I make my cock hungry bitch mad? Careful what you wish for” He threw he’s jacket on your shoulders away. “Don’t complain later”
Seongje snatched the back of your head with one hand and forced open your mouth with the other. He spat in your mouth and a big gobble of spit landed on your tongue. He then rammed he’s cock in full force without a warning. Your hands gripped he’s thighs for support. Seongje lifted one of he’s legs so it could rest on the edge of the bed to give him full access to deepthroat you. He started fucking your face like a mad dog. You gagged at the pressure, tears were forming in your eyes but he was so unapologetic about it.
“You have your mouth so I could stuff my cock in. Not so you could throw insults at me you whore”
The air was filled with squelching noises of he’s cock gagging you and it was music to he’s ears. Your jaw was aching and you were so close to losing your breath. Seongje’s head was thrown back, eyes wide shut, he’s adam’s apple bobbing up and down while he’s moans continued getting louder and louder. He was so close. He pulled he’s cock out and made you suck on he’s balls while he started pumping he’s shaft. One of your hands squeezed he’s balls while your other hand reached out to pinch he’s nipples. He let out a deep, throaty laugh because you knew exactly how to make him cum.
“That’s my whore, you know exactly what to do don’t you? Arghh I trained you so well”
He glanced down at you and was spell blinded by all the little details of you. Like how tears were running down your cheek, your pretty eyes wet, your eyelashes fluttering slowly, your drool dripping down your chin and continuing it’s way to your chest, the way he's chain rested between your boobs which is now covered in trails of your spit.. He loved seeing you cry during sex, it could be from you deepthroating him or when he’s overstimulating you, it’s a reminder of a privilege that only he had. He owned you. You were he’s bitch and only HE had the rights to make you cry and that’s for all the correct reasons.
But the highlight of your face today was he’s glasses resting above your nose bridge. The feeling of he’s own specs poking him under he’s thighs and the sight of he’s big rimmed glasses which made your face look even more smaller in comparison made him go feral. The way you struggled and tried so hard to sort of keep he’s glasses on while sucking him off made him grip your hair even harder.
“Fuck Y/N I’m close” You looked up to see he’s face all scrunched up as he’s drowning himself in euphoria.
“I- Fuck I’m gonna give you a treat now sweetheart” He looked down at you and smirked before cumming on your face. He was aiming for he’s thick ropes of cum to land all over he’s glasses and he had one job for you in he’s mind after this. After he pumped out every last bit of cum he had, he pulled he’s glasses away from your face.
He’s softened dick got twice as hard as before when he saw how your face was covered in tears, drool and bit of he’s cum. He leaned down to lick your tears away, he’s wet tongue was now smothering all over your cheeks. He pulled he’s face away, but still close enough study your messed up face.
He pouted “Hmm not wet enough, I want my girl’s face to glow” and by that he meant decorating your face with he’s fluids however he wants like the good boyfriend he is. Seongje started spitting all over your face. He’s drool now running down from you forehead to your chin.
“There, now you’re prettier” he winked at you. He admired your glistening face with a huge grin. You were decorated with he’s belongings like you were a doll he possessed. He’s glasses resting on your nose, he’s chain around your neck, he’s cum and drool all over your face. He’s mind screamed one word: Mine.
You were panting so hard right now trying to catch a breath. The sight of he’s cum being shot right in front of your eyes were replaying in your mind. It made your core burn. Right now you wanted nothing other than for him to play with your pussy and make you cum. You wished for him to rail you hard or even at least suck on your clit till you cry and beg for him to stop.
You were brought back to earth from your thoughts when seongje tugged on he’s chain on your neck to make you stand up from the ground. He pushed you hard into the bed and handed he’s cum covered glasses to you.
“You know what to do don’t you?”
Of course you did. You were a freak as much as he was. The moment you pulled out your tongue to taste-
“WAIT” he signalled he’s index finger for you to stop. He rushed to grab he’s phone that he almost smashed earlier. Of course he was going to record this. He keeps nudes of you in he’s phone. Not even in he’s hidden folder, he was shameless and proud.
“Alright do it now” seongje was so excited that he almost squealed. With a big grin on he’s face he started recording.
You started sucking on the tip of he’s glasses first, slowly swirling your tongue around it similar to he’s cock. He’s eyebrows furrowed at first. He wanted you to just eat he’s cum of he’s glasses but what you’re doing.. is even better.
You then slowly started moving your tongue around thick rims, sucking on the edges. You made eye contact with him while licking off he’s cum that were covering the glasses. The sight of you enjoying he’s delicious salty milk drove him insane.
He couldn’t hold himself back any longer. Not when he’s throbbing so hard. He tossed he’s phone to the side and got on top of you. You slid he’s glasses back on him. Your saliva now covered he’s glasses but he didn’t care. He flipped you around so that your back is now facing him. He spat in you pussy and started rubbing your clit. You were moaning in pleasure but it was just the beginning. Seongje positioned himself at your hole, and bit your ear. He started whispering filthy things to you which made you roll your eyes in pleasure. He started thrusting inside you.
Your walls were desperately gripping onto he’s cock. “Your pussy was waiting for my dick the whole day wasn’t it?”
You couldn’t answer because you were so cockdrunk. Seongje bit your ear again but this time even harder. “You can’t even answer me” he chuckled “Well that’s partly my fault because I’m fucking your brains out”.
“I’ll make sure you won’t get to speak again. That makes things easier for both of us doesn’t it?”
Seongje took a hold of he’s chain around your neck, wrapped it around he’s hand and twisted it until you started choking on it. You were whimpering, which was he’s favourite melody. He fastened he’s pace because he knew you were close.
You were stuttering and every sound that left your mouth was incomprehensible. Seongje of course started laughing at your state. He started rubbing your clit until you squirted all over the place.
Seongje pulled out he’s cock from your cunt. There was one more sadistic thought he had that he desperately wanted to fulfil. He grabbed he’s phone and took off he’s glasses again.
What now..what’s next.. your body was giving up. You were barely able to keep your eyes open.
“Let me use them on you, I promise it’ll be good” Seongje was all ready to go even if you said no. You had no energy left but you nodded along.
He sighed. “Y/N did I really bruise your throat?” He slapped your cheek twice on both sides. “Answer me or I will keep going all night until you pass out”
You yelped in pain. “YE-YESS – yes please I want them inside me”
“Good whore” He smirked. “I knew you can take it like the good girl you are”
Seongje started rubbing he’s glasses on your clit while filming the whole thing using he’s other hand. He started poking the tip of he’s glasses at your entrance. You started moaning like crazy. Seongje was right. It felt good.
Seongje was now trying to insert half of he’s glasses on your hole.
“Wha-what if i-it breaks?” you were scared for a moment.
“Even better!” He’s tone unusually happy laced with sacarsm. “Don’t give me ideas Y/N” he’s back with he’s monotone.
“I’ll handle it. just take my glasses like you take my cock”
You screamed in pain as one of he’s thick rimmed lenses entered you. It felt bizarrely ecstatic.
“FUCK Y/N you’re taking it so well” He threw he’s phone away and started jerking off to the sight of you being stuffed with he’s own specs. Seeing you experiencing pleasure mixed with pain while being controlled by him was he’s kind of heaven. He nearly lost he’s sanity when he saw your cunt gripping onto he’s glasses so tightly. As pathetic as it sounds THE geum seongje came before you did.
Now he’s focus was just on you. He started twisting he’s glasses inside you to hit your sweet spot. Your body started trembling and you couldn’t hold back the strange pleasure anymore. Seongje pulled he’s glasses out when he knew you were close and you squirted all over him. He brought he’s face closer to your cunt so that your juices spilled all over he’s face. He was proud that not only he’s cock can make you cum, but he’s glasses too.
Before the glasses went back to sit on he’s nose bridge, he sucked on the tip that went inside you without breaking eye contact. Your whole body was numb but he wasn’t done teasing you. He bit the tip and grinned at your fucked up state. Good thing tho you two were freaks made for each other.
Contents: sitophilia/food play (different flavoured lollipops), insertion (lollipop), spit kink, sadist seongje (yay!!), slapping multiple times (op just wanna get smacked by him 😔), blindfolding, dacryphilia/crying kink, humiliation. overstimulation, seongje does a lot of bs and even quotes 9/11 (i'm sorry 💀)
Synopsis: Geum seongje couldn't live without a cigarette, it was concerning. So you tell him to try to replace cigarettes with something like lollipops. He thought to himself. Lollipops?.. strawberries and cigarattes?.. perfect.
Author's note: It's not safe to put food like candy near your vagina/anus because it can cause infections so please yall be safe. For the sake of the smut ignore all that bad stuff sksksk.
I dont write fanfics usually guys <- i say as i publish my third seongje smut with two more jaw dropping smut sitting in my drafts 😔. Hope you enjoy this :)
Masterlist
Edit: 28/08/2025: Visuals from the king himself 🙏😭
You and seongje were on a date together but here you were sitting by yourself in a bench. You watched seongje blow smoke out of he’s mouth, he was a few meters away. You sighed and looked it away. Sure he looked hot, he always does, maybe a little more hotter when he was smoking actually. You never told him to quit smoking. You actually didn’t think he would so you didn’t even try to stop him. But he’s not the type of a person to just smoke three or four times a day. This guy went as far as smoking ten cigarettes a day. Even worse? He didn’t finish any of them. That’s actually a good thing but you hated how he would casually throw away he’s cigarettes. How does he even afford that many cigarattes? IN THIS ECONOMY?
You snapped back to reality when seongje sat beside you. See? He probably took like three puffs at most and threw the cigarette away already. Seongje scoffed when he saw your judgemental stare.
“What did I do now?” he closed he’s eyes and sighed. He massaged he’s nose bridge, all ready to get scolded for whatever you’re gonna rant about. You opened your mouth to say something. But then closed it. Your turned your head away from him.
“Does that bother you?” seongje sounded dead serious. “What?” you turned around to look at him.
“Does me smoking bother you that much?” he sounded genuine. It was as if this was the first time in years someone cared about his health. And yes it was. It’s the first time he even had a proper conversation about him smoking. He didn’t want to let you see him break, not this easily. But the way you cared for him, the way you looked at him with so much love almost brought him to tears. It felt like he might actually stop if you asked him to.
“It’s just that.. you know it’s not good for you. I don’t have to explain like you’re five.” Seongje’s eyes softened when he heard your upsetting voice. He thought to himself, maybe.. maybe he CAN quit smoking for good. Maybe he CAN go for at least two days without smoking. No maybe one day. Okay REALISTICALLY maybe he CAN stop himself from smoking ten cigarettes a day.. One is clearly enough.. Okay maybe two… No actually four-
“Maybe try lollipops!”
Seongje’s thoughts got distracted when he heard your amusing idea. “Lollipops?” he raised he’s eyebrows. Seongje burst out laughing, very clearly entertained by your suggestion.
“Seriously you fool it’s an actual thing. There are nicotine flavoured lollipops to help you stop smoking. Even sucking on a normal lollipop is better than inhaling smoke” you pulled your phone out to show him what it is.
Seongje watched you with a big grin on he’s face. He’s back leaned against to the bench, legs crossed. He agreed to try a lollipop to reduce he’s fixation on cigarettes.
What you didn’t know was that he had more ideas.
The next day
You were at Seongje’s place. The moment you got to he’s door he pulled you inside. He dragged you to his bedroom and made you sit down on the bed. You were a little puzzled. He told you to wait like a good girl. You hands were resting on your sides.
He grabbed something from a bag. It was a lollipop. You got happy. “Nice! did you try it yet?” you asked curiously. “I’m about to” he smirked. For some reason he looked like he had more plans than to innocently try a lollipop.
He started unwrapping a bright red lollipop with a smirk on he’s face. He popped the lollipop in he’s mouth and made you watch him lick all over the candy. Your mouth naturally parted a little. The candy looked delicious, especially because seongje’s spit made it look so glossy and tasty.
“You wanna taste baby?” he smirked while the lollipop was poking inside he’s cheek. You nodded and gulped.
“Mmm but you have to guess the flavour first” seongje pouted, he was teasing you.
“Strawberry?..” you easily guessed. Seongje liked playing games, so he wasn’t pleased when you got it right in the first go. “That’s actually not fair is it? you saw the colour before guessing” he sighed, very disappointed. He wanted this to be fun.
“We’ll do this fair and square. Since you got the first lollipop right I’ll be nice” he laughed, he’s gummy smile full on display. But seongje’s eyes were getting darker.
“Put your tongue out for me like a good girl”. You sticked your tongue out, patiently waiting to taste him through the lollipop. He pulled the lollipop out of he’s mouth and roughly grabbed your face. He let a thick gobble of spit land on your tongue. “Swallow” he ordered.
Your eyes rolled back to your head as you swallowed seongje’s sweetened spit. He got so hard at the lewd expression you just made. It almost made him want to stop teasing you and slam his cock in your mouth for you to suck. But no, not just yet.
Seongje quickly left the room. You were wondering what he was upto. He came back with a huge grin on he’s face, he was holding onto.. a small black face towel? He wrapped it around your head and you were now blindfolded. “There now that’s better” you heard a low chuckle from him. “Oh and don’t worry I just washed it” he reassured you. It’s pretty unusual for seongje to be nice during moments like this but you were relieved. Thank god it’s not a dirty rug. You heard him unwrapping more lollipops.
“So we’re gonna play a game now. I have 4 more lollipops with me and you have to guess their flavours. If you get it right I will kiss you. If you get it wrong I will slap you. Do you have a problem with that?” he’s voice was stern and it sent chills down your spine. He liked asking you rhetorical questions when both of you knew so damn well he’s gonna do everything he’s way. Your answer didn’t matter.
“No” but the answer you gave was wrong. Seongje raised he’s hand and swinged it at your face in full force. He grabbed your jaw roughly, “No what?”
“No s-sir” you mumbled. Seongje snickered at your state. He honestly didn’t care about what you called him. He just wanted an excuse to slap you. This was just the beginning, but he was so amused already.
“Are we ready for round two?” he asked and you answered, “Yes sir.”
Seongje didn’t have to ask twice when you already put you tongue out all ready to go. You felt his spit land on your tongue for the second time. “COLA!” that didn’t take long for you to yell.
Seongje laughed. “Do you want me to kiss you that bad? How pathetic” you felt his stare burning through you. He was mocking you, but even that made your wet. He was right. You were pathetic and helpless which is exactly what seongje adored.
He grabbed your jaw and kissed you roughly. He’s wet tongue was swirling around your mouth. He shared the taste of cola on he’s lips with yours. Both of you now hungrily tasting each other. He’s thick frames nudged your rough blindfold and he’s nails digged into your skin. He only pulled away when you gripped onto he’s hands, tapping on them signalling that you need to breathe.
Seongje grinned, he’s eyes looking down at you with so much desire. He unwrapped the third lollipop. You heard him scrunch away the paper followed by silence. You didn’t know when he would spit on you so you put your tongue out and waited.. and waited..
Seongje found it all too amusing. The way your tongue was out waiting for him like a poor dog who haven’t had a drop of water in ages. He poked the lollipop stick on your tongue and you flinched. You yelped a little and put your tongue back in your mouth. You heard his sadistic laugh.
“Did I tell you to take your tongue back slut?” seongje knew you would put your tongue out right away when you heard him say that. And you did. You’re too easy. But he loved the control and dominance he had over you.
You felt him spit on your tongue. “Swallow. Let’s see if you’re still smart” seongje said sassily.
You were desperately wondering what flavour it was. So many thoughts were running through your mind. It had a hint of strawberry to it. It must be strawberry because it tasted so much like it was. But you already tasted strawberry. That was the first lollipop…
You knew how cheeky seongje was. He never said the 5 lollipops had 5 different flavours to it now did he? he said he’ll play fair and square but seongje was random and impulsive. Who knows maybe he reused the first lollipop instead of a new one?
You weren’t sure but you still mumbled “Strawberry”
Seongje snorted and harshly slapped your cheek. It was so painful but it felt so euphoric. “I only slapped you once but did you get brain fog already? Strawberry was the first lollipop Y/n.” Seongje shaked he’s head side to side. He was pretending to be so disappointed in you but that was clearly an illusion. He was enjoying this.
Then it clicked him. “No way Y/n..” he got a little mad. He grabbed your hair, tugging it hard enough to rip it out of scalp. “Did you think I reused the first lollipop?” he scoffed.
He mocked you in a baby voice. “I told you I will play fair and square sweetheart. I can’t believe you didn’t trust me.” You didn’t see him, but you knew he was puckering he’s lips at you. “Although I kind of don’t want to be fair anymore” he said in a monotone.
“Alright I’ll give you one more chance to guess the third lollipop.” This was almost like psychological manipulation to him. You definitely won’t guess the right answer now. He chuckled at the thought. This is great. He gets to slap you again.
“B-Berry?” you trembled a little, pretty much expecting another slap from him. And just like you anticipated he slapped you but this time on the opposite side of your face. Both of your cheeks were now aching, your eyes were getting a little teary. Your vision was dark from the rough towel tied around your head, but you knew seongje was enjoying your pain.
“Oof a second plane has hit the towers” he started giggling at he’s own corny joke. He was so amused at your embarrassed face. He loved humiliating you in front of him, sometimes it was just so he could see the blush creeping upto your cheeks. He loved it when your own voice failed you, when you stuttered and couldn’t even say a word because your jaw or your cheeks were hurting. He loved it when you couldn’t form a single thought because you were in pain, the pain given to you by him.
“The third lollipop was strawberries and cream baby” seongje snickered. He thinks he’s so smart. You laughed a little too at your own pathetic state. God save your poor soul. Or maybe not, you’re right where you want to be.
“AND NOW!! we’re moving onto the fourth round!!!” seongje was acting like a MC for a sports game. You put your tongue out waiting for him to spit on your mouth. He used he’s finger to lift your chin a little this time. He’s spat in you mouth. You let the taste of he’s spit linger around a little before answering. You still weren’t sure.
“Can i.. taste it again please?” You weren’t sure how seongje was gonna react. But you tried asking him anyway. For a minute he got softer, he thought you were really cute for being so polite. “Of course darling” he brought the lollipop to your lips. You were taken back but you started suckling on it. This time you felt like you got it right. You moved your mouth away from the lolly. “Grape” you answered.
Forget about your answer, seongje’s cock was throbbing in he’s pants when he saw you sucking on the lollipop. He used he’s free hand to give his bulge a squeeze while holding the lollipop in your mouth. He was disappointed when you stopped licking the lolly to answer him.
Seongje scrunched he’s nose and tilted he’s head in response. “Hmm I don’t know. Is it?” he put the lollipop back in he’s mouth. He brushed the back of he’s fingers on your cheek and you flinched a little. He gently smiled, he loved the effect he had on you. He knew you flinched because you thought he was gonna slap you. But he was actually trying to sooth your red skin from he’s punishment earlier. For a moment he didn’t say anything and left you wondering. He couldn’t see your eyes but he knew they were a little wet with tears. He wanted to take your blindfold off so bad. He always loved gazing down at your pretty eyes. He needed to watch you break down because of him. It’s okay, just one more round. He thought to himself.
He puckered your lips together using he’s thumb and his index finger. You were a little stunned when he kissed you. So you did get it right time. The grape flavour started melting into your mouth. The blindfold made it even easier for you to just focus on the filthy sounds that were made when you two were kissing. Seongje was practically french kissing you. He didn’t just suck on your tongue. He also continuously sucked on your bottom lip until you couldn’t feel it anymore. He then sucked on your top lip, he even bit it a little so it bled. You moaned into he’s mouth in pain and you felt him smirk against your lips. Then he pulled away.
You heard him unwrap the last lollipop. “Here comes the grand final” seongje grinned. You heard seongje moan when he popped the lollipop in his mouth. It seems like he was saving the best for the last round. You got yourself thinking about all the possible lollipop flavours out there. The most common ones like lemonade, raspberry, choco vanilla, watermelon, mint, cherry.. what can it possibly be?
You felt the lollipop tap on your cheek. Seongje was rolling the lolly all over your skin. He bent down and licked the traces of deliciousness of your cheek.
“For the last round you only get one taste. You won’t ever get to taste it again” seongje sounded strict and serious. This time he didn’t even rhetorically asked you if you were okay with that.
You nodded your head. To your surprise seongje untied your blindfold. You squinted your eyes at the sudden light. You were confused but he forcefully opened your mouth and spat on your tongue. He carefully studied your reaction.
Your face shrivelled up. What the hell even is that? This flavour had a distinct taste. It was like unsweetened chocolate, maybe dark chocolate? It was a little bitter, maybe black coffee?
Seongje sighed and closed he’s eyes. He moved near the bedside table, grabbed he’s water bottle and opened the lid, then gave it for you to drink. You were confused but you grabbed he’s water and drank it.
“That was Nicotine” seongje muttered. You spat the water out. Your eyes were widened and you looked up to him in shock. He looked a little unhappy. Of course he’s a little disappointed. The love of he’s life didn’t like he’s favourite flavour. It’s like when cats bring their owners dead animals as a gift, only for humans to get disgusted and ignore it.
“Yeah I shouldn’t have done that in the first place… But aT LeAsT I tRiEd tHe nIcOtInE lOlLiPoPs” he started grinning again, and he’s voice sounded exactly like the font you just read.
You did kind of appreciate him not wanting the taste of nicotine to linger in your mouth for long. He did draw a line between being playful and careful because you never consented to taste nicotine. But you were still a little annoyed.
“I don’t know if I should ignore you like how you’ve been ignoring your bulge this whole time” you muttered. Seongje’s grin faded. You were trying to get on he’s nerves, and he liked it. He grabbed your shoulder and roughly pushed you onto the bed. He gripped your hand and placed it on he’s cock. He’s eyes were so hungry for you.
“You can’t ignore it when you’re the one who made it rock hard” he whispered with a smirk. “I’ll make it soft again, just put it inside me” you wasted no time to plead him.
In a matter of seconds both of your clothes were gone. Seongje knelt in front of your legs and started peppering soft kisses on your pubic bone. Typically if he was eating you out, he would reach out to massage your soft tit or at least offer to hold your hand. But right now he’s hands seemed occupied. Strangely you felt something poking at your entrance.
“Seongje what are you doing?” you questioned him. “Nothing to see here I’m just glazing my donut” seongje grinned and started tapping the strawberry flavoured lollipop on your clit. You groaned at that stimulating feeling. Seongje knew how to make teasing feel blissful.
He kept on smothering the sweetness of the lollipop all over your pussy and then he licked it all off. It was a never-ending cycle. He was burying himself deep in your candied pussy. He then switched the lollipops. He grabbed the nicotine flavoured one. He was nudging that in your entrance. Seongje let out the loudest moan when he tasted how delicious and bitter your cunt was. He enjoyed the weirdness of all the different flavours mixing together. A hint of sweet strawberry, the bitterness of nicotine and most importantly your salty cum all made a rich, unique taste, and only he had the opportunity to taste that. He inhaled the pungency of your pussy, he’s nose was buried deep inside your hole, your pussy lips were folded on the sides of he's nose. He nearly got high from the bizarre odour that he couldn’t get enough of. He only pulled away when you tugged on he’s hair. He got an idea for another game.
“Wanna guess the flavour that’s inside of you?” he cheekily asked. Seongje didn’t let you answer since he inserted a lollipop head inside you. You drowned in pleasure, your nails now digging into he’s scalp. You started muttering anything that came to your head. “G-Grape?”
“Nope” He chuckled and slapped your clit harshly. You screamed in pain. He started moving the lollipop in and out of your hole. He forgot all about he’s bulge because he was captivated by what’s happening in front of he’s eyes.
He pulled out the lollipop inside you and inserted another one. He pinched your clit. “Aren’t you gonna answer slut?” he’s sadistic self was having the time of he’s life. “C-cherry?” you didn’t have any coherent thoughts.
Seongje laughed at your fucked up state. He slapped you clit again and then teasingly grazed he’s teeth on it. “You stupid whore there was no cherry in the first place” he started moving the lollipop in and out of you, but much faster this time. You yelped in pain, you were so closer to cumming. He twisted the lollipop and started sucking on your clit. You moaned in pleasure and squirted all over the place. You were so closer to passing out and you couldn’t feel your pussy from overstimulation.
Seongje pulled out the lollipop from your cunt and popped it back in he's mouth. He got up and moved until he was standing next to your face. He didn’t fuck your cunt this time, he started jerking off to your fucked up state. He was enchanted by all your details. The way you were barely able to open your half lidded eyes, there were some tears running down your temple. The way your cheeks were red from his abuse earlier. The way your mouth was swollen from his kissing earlier. The way you lied on his bed, on his sheets, all naked and vulnerable. Only he can see like this. Only he had the right to ruin you.
With loud groans he spilled he’s hot cum all over your tits. He took the bright red lollipop out of he’s mouth and rubbed it on your nipple. Then he coated the lollipop with some of he’s cum drops that landed on your breast. He brought it to your lips for you to lick. You tasted the sweet strawberry essence and he’s salty cum. So it was a strawberry lollipop? You realised. Meanwhile seongje grabbed the nicotine flavoured lollipop and popped it back in he’s mouth.
Both of you guys were now laying next to each other with lollipops in your mouth. The sweet strawberry taking over your senses and the bitter nicotine taking over his.
Funnily enough, he loved you more than he loved cigarettes and you loved him more than you loved strawberries.
warning: threesome, blowjob (face fucking), spit kink, fingering, choking, light brat taming, anal sex, double penetration (p and a), creampie (don't be silly, wrap your willy!)
synopsis: You decided to ignore both of your friends, and mop around because of failed hook ups. Let's just say, neither Seongjae or Baekjin liked it.
A/N: this is just pure filth so if it's not your cup of tea, please do not proceed. if you happen to enjoy the fic, let me know what you think! 🤩
“Have you gone to fix it?”
“Nah,” Seongje inhales a lungful of the cigarette between his fingers. “I’m in front of her apartment building though.”
He can almost see Baekjin taking a pause and collecting himself. The latter had a lot of checklist for him today involving the Union, but here he is instead. Seongje couldn’t care less honestly, he’s not a damn errand boy.
“What are you doing there, Seongje? I told you to take care of the burner back accounts.”
“That can wait. She’s been ignoring us and ditching her classes, don’t act like you don’t want to see what she’s up to right now.”
“Mr. Choi will be calling soon.”
Seongje rolls his eyes and takes a jab at Baekjin being Mr. Choi’s lapdog, in which the other pays no mind. “Whatever, do what you want and miss all the fun.”
The call ends up abruptly, leaving Baekjin staring at the caller I.D. in disbelief. Seongje heads straight to your unit after throwing his stick on the ground, stomping on it once.
You’ve never given him nor Baekjin the password to your door but he trespasses anyways. For him, you’ve known them both long enough to be aware it is bound to happen.
The atmosphere in your apartment is akin to a museum: calm and comforting with a melodic music playing somewhere. He follows the sound, soon finding out it is coming from your bedroom.
Your blanket are tangled and bundled up in one area, while your feet peeks out by the hem. Seongje chuckles lightly at the sight.
“What got you all gloomy and sentimental?”
Leaning on your elbows, your eyes are wide enough to resemble an owl. “Seongje? What the hell are you doing here? How did you get inside?”
The man invites himself just like he did by the front door, and sits at the edge of your bed. Whether this is a consequence of having a literal criminal and a gang member as your friend or not, you don’t have an ounce of care.
“But I asked you a question first.”
You roll your eyes and slumps back in your bed.
Seongje pins you with a stern stare. “Don’t fucking roll your eyes at me.” He moves to your side and rests his back against the headboard. “Why haven’t you been at the bowling alley these days? Baekjin is losing his mind.”
“If he truly is, then he should be here.”
That ignites a laugh from him, shaking his head. They must’ve spoiled you too much that you’re now acting like a brat, sulking when you don’t get their attention the second you want it.
Huffing, you turn your back to Seongje. He observes the way your lips jut out in a pout and how you tried hard to divert your attention to your phone once more.
A notification pops up at the top part of your screen.
Sugang: Do you want to come over again?
The gadget is gone in your grip the next time you blink. Looking at Seongje, you see the evident change in his eyes. His thumb scrolls through your conversation, scanning fast enough that you wonder if he’s actually reading them.
“Okay, what the hell– give it back!”
“Who’s Sugang and why is he telling you to come over at his place?”
“None of your business, really.”
Glancing at the phone, he pulls you and settles you in his lap while he holds your wrist in front of him— basically forcing you to show what he wants to see.
The corner of his lips curls up in a snicker, one that you know follows a mean comment about your hook-ups and dates.
“A dick appointment, huh?” Seongje tsks. “How many dates have you gone with him? Did he even managed, at least, one orgasm out of you?”
Slapping his arm, you tell him off with his language. The dread then comes back to you, and prompts you in snuggling closer to Seongje’s chest, laying your head on his shoulder as you get a whiff of his scent.
“... no.”
His chest rumbles as he oddly finds your miserable life funny.
“So you’re telling me,” He tosses your phone somewhere on the bed. “This Sugang guy have stuck his dick inside you multiple times, never made you cum, and still had the audacity to invite you over again?”
You could only hide your face in his neck. There’s nothing else to do except to drown in embarrassment, especially with the help of Seongjae’s condescending tone and mocking chuckle.
“First was Park Yeongbeom leaving you in radio silence after telling you that his phone was broken, but switched up and it was suddenly because he forgot to charge it. Then Kim Palho stood you up just because his mama threw a tantrum about he shouldn’t find a girl and leave his mom alone. Hong Sijun doesn’t even know how to fucking mop the spilled juice on your floor, and Baek Sanghyun who played hard to get, making you set up several hangouts before eventually telling you he doesn’t fancy you.”
Seongje takes a deep breath, and lets out a scoff. “Wow, where are you getting these fucking manchilds?”
As Seongje recites all the men that had failed you for these past few months, the anger and irritation boils hot inside you. Throwing yourself on the bed once more, you muffle your screams using the soft pillows. All the while Seongje’s eyes follow your movements.
Drawing closer, he pries your hand away from your face and turns you to look at him straight. His eyes rakes over the messy strands of your hair before he brushes them away.
He sighs. “So this is why you’re misbehaving.”
A thumb traces the plush of your lips, putting slight pressure on your chin to open your mouth before sliding inside, meeting your tongue. Seongje hums in approval then presses kisses on your jawline.
“Suck,”
As though enchanted, your lips circles around his finger and does what he says. All the pent up frustrations caused by other men slowly fades as Seongje stabilize you in the only way he can.
“That’s right. You’re still my sweet girl, aren’t you? Just needed a reminder.”
Seongje noses your throat while his other hand caresses your waist, uncharacteristically gentle. His patience cuts off short so he moves on to tug your shirt away and finally kisses you properly.
You whine against his mouth as you circle your arm around his neck. His tongue licks into your mouth, engaging yours to his before taking it to suck on. Seongje is in the process of removing your shorts and panties when suddenly, the bedroom opens– revealing Baekjin with his hands in his pockets.
Seongje whistles. “Looks like you don’t need to go back to those manchilds anymore. You’ve got more than one cock to keep you occupied and satisfied.”
You are coaxed to stand before your bed as both men assumes their position.
Baekjin’s in front of you, surprisingly not donning his jacket anymore, while Seongje presses up against your back, his growing hardness poking the cheeks of your ass.
After you’re all bare between them, Baekjin grabs your jaw and draws you in for a kiss. It’s not messy and full of spit like Seongje’s, rather it’s steady and establishing, like he’s asserting his dominance over you.
Two sets of hands wanders around your body. You think you might go crazy as your sensory fills up; someone fondles your breasts and plays with its hard buds, one hand cups your pussy and slips in to gather your wetness, while one other holds the back of your head firmly as if keeping you from pulling away.
A yelp elicits from you when Seongje unexpectedly turns you around. He slots his mouth on yours like he’s been deprived this whole time. His kisses starts a hunger in you and it will most likely won’t be satisfied easily.
Someone bends you over, and you know it’s not Seongje given by the smoothness and nonexistent callouses on the skin. Soon enough, Baekjin enters a finger inside you without a signal, causing you to jerk forward and comes in contact with Seongje’s cock.
When did they start stripping?
He takes a handful of your hair in his grip. Following his lead, you proceed to lick his shaft up and down to wet it. No way you’re putting that in your throat all dry.
And as one predicts, impatience– for Geum Seongje– is a loyal friend. Done with your stalling, Seongje yanks your hair and forces two fingers in your mouth, triggering your gag reflex as it naturally clamps on him and produces an ample amount of saliva.
“There you go,” He snickers and spreads it along his cock.
Inserting another one, Baekjin seems unpleased with your lack of focus on him. He kneels behind you and crooks his fingers that sends you jolting again.
“Baekjin..”
Satisfaction fills him up due to your breathy moan. Though it did not last long as Seongje feeds you his cock, holding your head in place while he controls the pace. You could only close your eyes and pray he have mercy on you.
On the other hand, Baekjin lets his mouth take over and enjoys your taste on his tongue. Your hans flies to grip on whoever’s arm is near, hips grinding on Baekjin’s face.
You stay like that for a while. And when your legs start buckling, Baekjin carries you to the bed.
“Hands and knees, baby.”
Disregarding Seongje’s scoff, you obey Baekjin’s order before looking forward and sees the former sprawling on the pillows. Seongje tilts his head, gesturing you to hover above him.
You’re ushered until he’s face to face with your breasts. As he feasts on the soft fat on your chest, a hand taps your thigh.
“You know the traffic light system?”
“Yes,”
“Good. Tap the bed three times if you can’t speak.”
Baekjin fucks you open using a few more times, and a moment later, a blunt tip obviously much larger the three of his fingers pushes inside.
“Uhh..”
Hearing your mewl, Seongje sees you with your mouth agape then scoots backwards, towards the headboard. “I wanna eat you out so fucking bad but I’ll leave it for another day.”
Another day? Heavens, you might have to charge your energy for another threesome with them.
Your head lols, moans getting louder each thrust of Baekjin’s cock. He plants one of his feet on the bed, changing the angle, and smirks when your back arches and your arms visibly shakes. Swift slaps land on your ass.
“So tight, fuck–”
“Hey, can’t leave me hanging now, doll.”
Seongje cuts off and holds your chin. Getting tired of him bossing you around, you roll your eyes and reaches to wrap a hand around his length when his grip suddenly transfers to your cheeks.
“I told you not to fucking roll your eyes at me,” He forcefully opens your mouth, sliding in your throat harshly. He fucks your face like Baekjin does with your pussy.
“Hmmph–!”
You scramble to search for something to cling to, your poor bedsheets taking the result of the overwhelming pleasure across your body.
“See, Baekjin? You shouldn’t spoil such bad girls like her. Look at that attitude.”
“Aah– You’re being too harsh on her, that’s why.”
“Bullshit! This brat needs to learn her manners– holy shit..”
“She knows,” Baekjin kisses along your spine, arriving at your shoulder as he murmurs against your ears. “What do we say, baby?”
Somehow wanting to hear and see what will be your response, Seongje pulls out and jerks himself.
“Nngh.. ‘m– ‘m sorry, ‘m sorry. I’m– oh my god– I won’t do it again.”
“Unfuckingbelievable.”
He urge you to take his cock back in and resumes his face fucking.
You’re so adorable with tears running down on your cheeks while your hands is attempting to slow Baekjin down. He supposes it’s only appropriate that they're providing you this much. After all, they need to satisfy your months and months of sexual frustration.
Then an idea pops in his head. His smirk blooms. “If you’re really sorry, you’ll let me fuck you.”
Baekjin perks up, squinting his eyes at the other in warning. “Wait for your fucking turn, Geum Seongje.”
“Who says anything about taking turns?”
Sinking his words in, Baekjin’s thrusts falter slightly.
You, however, being too cock-drunk and unable to talk, fails to register what the two men are discussing about. Imagine the surprise and confusion in your face when all the stimulations comes to a sudden stop.
“W-what? Did I do something wrong.. ?”
Baekjin notes you look like a deer caught in headlights. He tucks your hair behind your ears and pecks your cheek.
“What do you say about taking both of us?”
“Both of you– how?”
“At the same time. We’ll take it slow.”
“What if..” You trail, fiddling at the sheets. “What if I don’t like it?”
Seongje grins. “You will.”
In a matter of seconds, Baekjin and Seongje switches places. You’re now pinning the former against the bed with your whole weight, while the latter strokes himself behind you.
Smoothly, Baekjin’s cock slides again, emitting a whiny moan from you. He moves you on top of him, clasping his hands to your waist as he eases his size. Your body shudders when you feel something cold touches your asshole, followed by someone thumbing it.
And then it clicks.
You clutch at Baekjin’s arm tightly as one digit begins to push it’s way inside your ass. It massages your hole, making sure you’re relaxing and opening up before pushing another one, then another more.
Three fingers produces squelching noises as they curl upwards and scissors. It echoes lewdly that you make out with Baekjin so you’d think your tongues are the source of it instead.
Slowing down his pace, Baekjin kisses you back feverishly— you should’ve known it was to distract you from Seongjae’s length.
“Fuck–!”
Your body immediately tenses and both men stops their motions, observing you. He’s barely even past the tip.
“Hurts?”
“A bit, yeah..” Your fist clenches and unclenches beside Baekjin’s head.
“Do you want to stop?”
You shake your head, shallowly breathing in and out. Seongje reaches out for the lube again and squirts some more on where you’re connected. Then, he slowly resumes pushing in the rest of his cock.
"Wait, oh god..."
Eyes shutting tight, your nails dig in the skin of his wrist but Seongje refuses to let go of your hips. Baekjin scratches your head gently, anything to cut your attention in half, away from the burn.
Soon, the pain gradually becomes pleasure. You angle your head and meets Baekjin’s mouth, letting him swallow your moans. “Uh uh uh– yes! Yes, fuck. So good–”
Seongje throws his head back, though quickly staring back at your hole again because it’s just a mesmerizing sight. How your tight ass grips onto his cock hungrily. Fuck, he might come at the thought of being the first one to stick his cock in it.
He slaps your cheek, watching as it reddens. Baekjin’s pace fastens as he takes in the way your face contorts, unable to mask the overwhelming pleasure.
“You think those men can make you feel this good, baby?” He tsks. “You could’ve gone to us, to me, and save your self the hassle. Those men don’t deserve you. You’re mine.”
"She's ours, Baekjin. Learn how to fucking share."
Whimpering, a drool slips past your lips in which Baekjin wipes off and licks. Even with his thumb muffling your noises, it still rings across the whole bedroom due to how hard Seongje is fucking in to you.
A violent jab at your sweet spot snatches the breath away from your lungs as your eyes rolls to the back your head.
“So fucking pretty,” Baekjin rumbles.
A hand yanks your hair and you’re forced to meet Seongje’s eyes in a dizzy haze. “What do we say?”
It costs you almost a minute before conjuring an answer. Fortunately, they pay it no mind because of how sweet your words sound.
“Thank you– oh oh hnngh.. thankyouthankyouthankyou. Feels so good!”
Seongje laughs, pulling you close to his chest and spits in your mouth. Gulping it down, you stuck your tongue out to show him, earning approval as he licks your cheek and pushes you down on Baekjin again.
“Good girl.”
A hand wraps around your throat, squeezing enough to put your mind in a pleasurable haze. “You like that? You like it when he calls you a good girl? Are you gonna be good for us after this?”
“Y– yheees. ‘m good, I’ll be good– please.”
As Baekjin continuously targets your g-spot, your scream pierces through their ears as you starts to thrash between them. With a few more thrusts, you’re clenching down on their cocks uncontrollably.
The two men shares a grunt at your tightness as they eagerly follows their own climax, each losing their own rhythm resulting in a messy and uncoordinated movements.
Before long, Seongje pulls out and strokes his cock over your ass, letting out a loud moan as he paints your back with his sticky cum. While Baekjin takes the reigns on your hips, fucking upwards, uncaring about the obscene skin slapping that probably reaches your next neighbor.
“Inside?”
Not affording to speak anymore, you opt in kissing him deeply in hopes to convey your answer. Baekjin grunts in return and buries his cock deep inside you, his cum shooting to your walls until some spills out of your hole. He fucks a couple more times and finally calms down when the cum starts foaming up around his cock.
When he finally withdraws as well, all three of you are breathing heavily. You slump on Baekjin, no longer has energy to do anything else. Seongje leaves the room and comes back with a clean towel to wipe you down, throwing said towel somewhere in the room after doing so.
Gently, Baekjin ushers you to the side. Seongje, soon, lays down on your other side.
“Don’t ever contact those men again, or I’ll have the Union deal with them. Alright?”
Giggling, you nod your head before placing a sweet kiss on his lips, giving the same to Seongjae.
“Okay,” You tug them closer. “Can you buy me strawberries though? I’m kinda craving them. And chocolates!”
“We’ll buy you some later, after you eat your lunch.”
“But I want to have it now. Wait– how’d you know I haven’t eaten?”
And as if you didn’t act like they didn’t exist from the past whole week, you’re back to being their spoiled bratty princess again.
⟢ a/n: the long awaited... | this is NOT in any way, shape, or form meant to depict who / how any of ateez are irl. please do not take this fic as fact on their personalities, please and thank you.
⟢ summary: everyone knows choi san. the choi san. and the pornstar wonder boy just invited you to do a collab with him
⟢ word count: 35.7K
⟢ warnings: masturbation (f), oral (m,f), p->v, unprotected sex (don't do that), squirting, edging, dirty talk, san makes a Crazy first impression, cowgirl/riding, bondage (f, not reader), slight yeosang x reader (mentioned), porn industry, blowjob, fingering, basically just everything you’d find in a porn
You love that you can wake up whenever you want, and that you have no set schedule to live by. The only deadlines you have to worry about are the ones you make for yourself. You love your beautiful apartment that you didn’t need anyone else’s help to get, and that it is so close to everything in the city. You love not worrying about money anymore. You get to live however you deem fit, taking life one day at a time. Everything in your life is by your own design. Honestly? It’s a dream.
And it’s easy money, giving men a fantasy for the night.
That’s what you sell, the idea of you. In everyday life, you don’t pout nearly as much as you do on camera, nor do you talk as sweetly to strangers. Some of them, though, aren’t strangers to you anymore. You recognize their usernames and their donations, especially the ones who have been fans of yours since you started, and the ones who pay for your highest tiered subscription. Twenty-five dollars a month just to jerk off to your exclusive content. Ah, men.
Your fanbase has grown and grown, skyrocketing somewhat recently when you convinced Yeosang, your hot guy friend, to join you in one of your videos. He’d worn a face mask to protect his identity, but it had been so obvious that he’s attractive even with it on. The black tank top left little to the imagination as your audience watched the muscles in his arms flex as his strong hands fingered you over and over again while he talked you through each orgasm. It was a rather simple video, with no actual sex. Regardless, that became one of your most viewed videos even though it was an exclusive, and the video that ended up paying for this apartment. Men and women alike scrambled to type in their credit card information to see it, boosting not only your ego, but your bank account as well. You gave Yeosang a decent sized chunk of your earnings, seeing as he was in the video too.
His whole face had turned red when you showed him the number of views, hiding behind his hands for good measure. He’s always been shy, it was a damn miracle you even got him to do it in the first place.
Since then, you’ve been living quite comfortably. Yeosang, too. Despite your efforts to convince him to create his own account for people to subscribe to, he’s maintained his ‘innocence’. However, recently he’s been asking you more and more about the details and dynamics of running an account like yours. You’re almost afraid to jinx it, like if you ask him outright if he’s thinking about it, he’ll forget the whole thing and never do it. Who are you to potentially accidentally deny the general paying population of your hot friend?
He may become even more popular than me, you think to yourself, a small smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.
You glance at your laptop, its camera trained at a specific angle towards your empty bed, and you peek at how many people are waiting for your livestream to start. Friday nights are always good to pull in larger crowds, and tonight is no different.
Nine hundred, and climbing.
Whoa.
You let out a low whistle at the number, the highest you’ve ever seen it just for the amount of people waiting. You’re not even due to start for another ten minutes. The number shifts around a couple times, losing some, and gaining more every minute. For the first time in a while, you start to feel a little self-conscious. This newfound fame is still just that: new. Even though you can’t see the audience you’ve gathered, you still feel that there are nine hundred pairs of eyes on you in your bedroom. There’s a nervous flutter in your chest that you can’t seem to shake off in the dwindling minutes before your stream begins.
With only two minutes left, you flit around your room, double checking how you look in your mirror, fixing your hair and makeup, and adjusting one of the straps to the lingerie you picked out for the evening. You sit prettily on the bed, taking a few moments before you start to center yourself, taking deep breaths and focusing on getting your head clear for tonight’s performance.
A ‘performance’ is basically all it is.
Your fingers hover over the trackpad of your laptop, counting down the seconds until there are none left, and you click “Go Live”.
As usual, you allow about ten seconds to go by, waiting for more to join once they get the notification that the stream has started. You read the sudden influx of chat, smiling when you see familiar usernames and knowing that rent will be covered for the next couple of months, just by their presence here. If you wanted something, all you had to do was ask for it. Someone in the chat will gladly donate however much you need – and then some – just for the chance to hear you read their username and thank them in your sweet voice.
So easy.
You saturate your greeting with honey, looking up into the laptop camera, eyes round and innocent.
“Hi, everyone,” you sing, giggling for all of the people vying for your attention. Each comment is sent with the hope that you’ll read it out. Some send tips already, small amounts mostly in the single digits, but there are a couple of doubles sent your way already. The tip counter in the upper corner of the screen increases steadily with each donation as they come. Compliments, questions, requests, and general niceties move up the screen in a constant staccato, making room for the next.
You lean back on your hands, pretending that you don’t know what you’re doing with this angle. The camera is angled down, providing an almost perfect POV shot for the audience. The fantasy begins immediately. You uncross your legs, feigning shyness.
“My day was okay, thank you,” you purr, knowing you just made someone nearly cream their pants by answering their question. “But… I’ve just been so lonely.”
You pout, right on cue to accompany your words. Instantly, the comment section floods with volunteers to cure you of your loneliness. Each one promises they can fix it, that they’ll be there for you, that they’ll never leave. It’s flattering, but none of them really mean it. Maybe they think they do, but again none of them really know you. You doubt most of them want to get to the very root of you and figure you out. No, most if not all just want to get into your pants to say that they have. Bragging rights.
[user75846] will yeo be joining you?
You read the comment aloud, shaking your head in quiet defeat. “No, it’s just me tonight.”
Some comments beg for his return, others are happy that it’s just you – the jealous types – and the rest are simply impatient to see your body. Your hand trails across the hem of your flimsy, sheer tank top you chose to wear for the evening. It leaves little to the imagination. The quiet pinging of more money being donated motivates you further. You sigh, looking up into the camera again.
“I’ve been so sad and lonely all day… you guys will help me, right?”
You pull your shirt down just a little more, showcasing your cleavage while keeping your face as innocent as possible. The comments spike again, but you don’t pay attention to them anymore. Your hand travels farther up to your mouth, fingers threatening to slip between your glossy lips. Twelve hundred people watch and wait. You hum, parting your lips slightly but not quite giving them the visual they want. Not yet. There’s no rush – not for you, at least. But one comment catches your eye because of its impatience.
[mntn3000]: start.
Very blunt. You don’t recognize the username as one of your regulars or subscribers. Whoever this is must be new. You’ve run and maintained a rather strict program with your subscribers when it comes to what they say in the live chat – politeness being one of the main rules. The lack of a ‘please’ to sweeten the demand nearly twists your face into something less angelic. Maybe whoever this user is is already close, unable to finish his sentence before he finishes himself. You bet once you take your shirt off he’ll blow his load and leave. It happens. For now, you’ll have fun with him. Teach this newcomer some manners.
You dip your fingers in, tongue peeking out to greet them into your mouth. The amount of comments slows just a little, silently telling you that some of your viewers are beginning to work themselves up along with you.
“Oh dear… ‘mntn3000’ just said ‘start’. No ‘please’? Will someone let him know how this works?” You keep your voice sugary, making sure everyone knows you aren’t hurt or being stuck-up, but that you’re rather amused at the comment.
Almost immediately, upon request, you see one of your regulars tag the newcomer in a message explaining the chat rules.
“Thank you, Woo,” you hum, lifting your shirt up even more, just for him, to show your gratitude. Your hand lingers near your breast, a small shudder running through your body as you graze your nipple.
‘Woo’, your nickname for him from his username, has become somewhat of an anonymous friend to you. He’s subscribed to your highest level tier and the VIP extras that you offer, including private shows and a group chat on Discord. He’s always the first to step in if someone says something out of line or disrespectful in any way. Your own personal guard dog.
Whoever he is, ‘mntn3000’ doesn’t say anything to Woo’s message.
Fourteen hundred people now.
You hum again, resisting the urge to squeeze your thighs together. You love the attention. And after doing a rough estimate in your head how much money you’ll make tonight, it just makes you want to put on an even better show.
“If you want something…” you purr, taking your shirt off completely. The comments erupt. “Ask nicely~” you tease, giggling to yourself.
A donation pops up immediately, the sum of which nearly makes you gape.
[mntn3000] has donated $500
Well… that’s certainly nice.
[mntn3000]: start, kitten
That’ll do it.
You’re quick to control your reaction to the generous donation. However, now you can’t help but feel like you’re performing under pressure. Some of your other patrons comment on it, but you’re on autopilot now.
One more deep breath in and your tight little shorts soon join your shirt on the floor.
You exhale audibly, turning the breath into a quiet moan as your hand continues to explore your own body. This time, you don’t tease when your fingers come back up to your mouth, accepting them immediately. Your free hand finds its way to your neglected chest, kneading the warm skin. It’s easy to pretend that the touch belongs to someone else’s manipulation.
It’s more than just a little confusing for you to immediately imagine it’s Yeosang, if not friendship-wise. The two of you have mutually agreed that you’re platonic. The collaboration was just… a friend helping a friend. Moreso than the views and money you earned from it, you’re thankful that there is no awkwardness between you two in the aftermath of it. When you had switched the camera off, he had even joked about graduating to another level of friendship, or something like that. You can’t remember exactly right now, you’re a bit preoccupied.
You pry your eyes open to read the chat, wanting to know if they’re enjoying the view so far.
[user92834]: i keep expecting yeo to show up ㅠㅠ i miss him
You whine, only able to nod once or twice. “I miss Yeo, too.”
Now you’re playing with fire. Multiple people in the chat remind you of their personal favorite parts of that video, giving you a much needed visual to get yourself off. Is it wrong? To use memories of your best friend ‘platonically’ overstimulating you for the better part of an hour? Maybe. You think you just need to get laid soon. Admittedly, it’s been rather long since you have been. Longer than most of your viewers will ever believe.
“I wish someone was here to help me,” you blink slowly into the camera, pouting again.
Your artificial patheticness is like a siren call to these men. It seems that every single one of your viewers suddenly comes alive, flooding the chat and your donations box all at once, each claiming that they should be the one to help you next time. That they have what it takes.
Except one.
You haven’t seen that ‘mntn3000’ guy’s username pop up since he sent the generous donation earlier. You wonder if he’s still watching. Maybe he’s embarrassed from earlier.
Whatever. He’s more likely just another background viewer. You probably won’t hear from him again.
Pushing the thought away, you start to finally trail your hand down your stomach to lightly circle your clit. Your hooded eyes flicker up to the screen, making sure everything’s in view. Satisfied with what you see, you resume touching yourself, continuing to loudly suck on your fingers for good measure.
[user82392] has donated $5
[user01743] has donated $20
[puppyu.u] has donated $50
[mars9843] has donated $50
[puppyu.u] has donated $100
You can’t help but smile, watching the silent competition between your viewers. Every time someone ups the amount they’re willing to drop on you, there’s dozens more who are willing to match it. You feel like you’re at auction. Who will win in the end? Usually, it’s one of your regulars, the ones with access to the private Discord, who come out on top. You’re betting on ‘puppyu.u’ tonight. He seems like he has something to prove.
No one’s quite willing to match ‘mntn3000’’s five hundred dollar starting offer just yet.
You get the feeling that everyone who regularly competes here silently agrees to just… ignore it. Everyone here spoils you, of course. But dropping five hundred dollars straight out the gate is a blatant power move that seems intent to undermine most of the others in here in one fell swoop.
But he’s quiet now. Maybe he spent all he had in one go. It happens sometimes. Rarely, but sometimes.
You’re not sure why you’re so hung up on this random user. You’re not used to being caught off guard like this. Closing your eyes so no one can see you roll them, you decide to not think about him anymore.
And you have just the thing for it.
While they spend money to achieve imagined dominance over the others in the chat, you reach just offscreen to grab your favorite dildo. It’s a fan-favorite as well. You scoot a little farther back on the bed, finally taking your fingers out of your mouth and replacing it with the head of the dildo. You sigh around it, like you’re content, grateful to have something in your mouth again. In reality, this is just so that it goes inside of you easier.
This time, you don’t make them wait.
The blunt head of the toy slips inside easily, and you fight to keep your head up so everyone can see your reaction to it. Halfway in, you give up. Head back, a visible shudder runs through your body that has the donation notifications ringing like crazy. Around this point in your little show, you’ll pay less and less attention to the chat, only focusing on the pleasure you’re creating for yourself.
But this time, something’s off.
No matter what you do, you can’t seem to find that specific angle that makes you cum. Not even playing with your clit seems to be any help. You try to relax, to see if maybe you’re too tense to feel anything, but it’s quite hard to relax when you’re this frustrated already. You’re not about to let the audience know that, but it’s discouraging. You don’t like to lie, but again, it’s all part of a performance. A fake, tailored show to sell a fantasy version of you. The one who always comes for whoever is watching, the one who is just so insatiable for each individual person watching.
At one point, you obtain false hope. You hit an angle that nearly does it for you, getting you closer than you were before to that sweet edge. It’s so close you can almost taste it, quickening your pulse and electrifying every vein in your body. There’s an ache in your wrist that is starting to become strained and uncomfortable, and your eyebrows furrow together to try and maybe will an orgasm into existence. And yet the payoff evades you completely.
You make a sharp, high-pitched noise out of frustration, which hopefully comes across as ecstacy instead. You’re not even enjoying it anymore, and your hand begins to slow down the pumps of the dildo as your fake moans increase again. There’s a trick you know to make your legs look like they’re realistically shaking from an orgasm – learned by ego-boosting one too many failed relationships and one night stands in the past – and you use it now.
Ugh.
The toy slips out of you, and you blearily toss it next to you on the bed. You let the audience watch the slowing rise and fall of your chest as your breaths even out.
What the fuck was that? You think to yourself, tilting your head back to hide your look of confusion. You’re kind of nervous to look at what people are saying in the chat, worried that they somehow caught onto the fact that you faked it. Without any proof, you conjure up images of cancellation, accusations, name-calling, every possible and yet unrealistic bad thing that could potentially happen.
Steeling yourself as best you can, you straighten and take a look at the chat.
All worries melt away at once as soon as you notice the heart emojis that flood the comment section. You’re not sure when this started, nor do you know who began the trend, but it has turned into something similar to applause at the end of a stream. A cute signal that they enjoyed the show. You smile at the screen, even laughing a little from relief. Time and time again, you’re proven to be loved no matter what.
There are a few more donations, although they’ve slowed down now that you’re done. You push your hair back, taking the time to slowly breathe in and out as you read the comments. Most of them tell you how hard you made them bust, which earns you a few more dollars. Still, there’s one username you’re stuck on that you’re not seeing. Not yet. You hope you’re not being obvious, waiting for it to reappear. Maybe with some manners and patience this time. Your eyes stay locked on the corner of the screen.
It’s after you blow a puff of air up towards your hair to move it out of your face that he reappears. Maybe your impatience was received loud and clear to him.
He only sends one word. Four letters.
[mntn3000]: cute
[mntn3000] has donated $1000
[mntn3000] has left the stream
Huh. Your spinning head almost registers that. A good thing about streaming is that you’re not exactly on a time limit. You can take as much time as you need to to calm down and regroup before addressing your audience again. Most will leave during this time, and that’s alright too. Your devoted viewers will stay, still seeking out your attention, praise, and appreciation. You always thank them for watching and of course, donating.
“There’s thousands of others you could have spent your time with tonight, so thank you for choosing me. I hope I made it worth it.”
In the middle of catching your breath, you manage a small grin into the camera. With a whispered, ‘goodnight’, and a kiss blown straight to your audience, you end the live and flop backwards on your bed. Another job well done. Another year of rent earned.
You force yourself to move after five minutes, showering, changing into new, comfier clothes and taking your makeup off in the bathroom until it’s just you in the mirror, and not the character. It’s not until you’re brushing your teeth that you realize how tired you are from that live, nearly drifting off with the toothbrush still in your mouth. Head about to hit the wall, you jerk back to stand upright and finish up quickly. You can practically hear your bed calling your name.
A text from Yeosang lights up your phone, halfway buried underneath a pillow. You pull it out and stand by your bed to read it.
[yeoyeo🌻]: another successful day at the office?
You can’t help but grin, burying yourself under the covers and texting him back quickly.
[y/n🌸]: another small fortune 🥱
[yeoyeo🌻]: still wanna hang out tomorrow?
[yeoyeo🌻]: or is the princess too tired
[y/n🌸]: stfu 😂
[y/n🌸]: yes pls i miss you :(
[yeoyeo🌻]: fine fine
[yeoyeo🌻]: i’ll be over at noon
[yeoyeo🌻]: you better be awake -.-
[y/n🌸]: goodnight pretty boy!
[yeoyeo🌻]: 🖕🏻
[yeoyeo🌻]: goodnight
Exiting the messages app, you reach over to the nightstand and grab your laptop from its perch, keen on transferring your earnings into your bank account as soon as possible. Luckily, the site you use makes it rather easy, just a click of a button, but this time around, you take a second to look at the number in the corner.
$14,601.
You whistle lowly at the sight of it. Nearly fifteen thousand dollars for thirty minutes of ‘work’. If you spend and save wisely, you’ll never have to set foot in an office for as long as you live.
Laptop set aside for the time being, you make a mental note to try and fit in some pilates tomorrow morning before Yeosang comes over. There are certain things you try to do to maintain your beauty and health, especially if the rewards look like this number. The sore muscles, cutting off sugar, and time spent trying to match your wing eyeliner are worth it. Almost… you do miss sugar quite a bit and are prone to cheat if tempted.
You quickly do the math in the calculator app to see how exponentially your bank account is about to grow once the transfer is complete. The total makes you smile ear to ear. Already, you’re thinking of more ideas, ways to keep everyone interested… but also… maybe a vacation. A first class flight to anywhere in the world seems more than desirable. Maybe tomorrow you’ll ask Yeosang if he’d like to come too. The thought excites you, making you want to stay up and look at potential destinations.
Closing out of the calculator and banking apps, you’re just about to go on TikTok to look through your ‘dream vacay’ folder, when a notification directs your eyes upward. It’s from your email, but it's no promotional message from one of the many stores you shop at, nor is it spam.
The sender is simply ‘H.J Kim’, accompanied by three words in the subject line: ‘Exclusive Collaboration Offer’.
That certainly piques your interest, although it could just be a scam. Since you don’t have an agent, you’ve learned the hard way how to filter out those who just wish to take your hard-earned – well… earned – money away from you. When you were just starting out, you had to change numerous passwords more than once. You’re on a first-name-basis with your bank. Usually, you ignore emails like this, but something draws you to it. In what you can see of the preview, the sender doesn’t use more words than he has to, and the word choice seems rather official. Not as scammy as you’re used to.
Hesitant, but intrigued at what this offer could possibly entail, you click on it to see what the rest of the email says.
__________________________
Dear Miss Y/N,
I hope you are doing well. My name is Kim Hongjoong and I am a Talent Agent with Afterdark Productions, representing Choi San. We have been admiring your work for a while now, and would love to extend an offer for a collaboration between the two of you.
If accepted, I will be more than happy to disclose more information regarding the details of the shoot as well as beginning the process of arranging transportation and accommodation. Please feel free to reach out with any questions or concerns, and I will respond as quickly as I can.
Thank you for your time and consideration. I look forward to the possibility of working together.
Just his name makes your thighs clench together under the plush comforter.
You make a noise somewhere between an exhalation and a laugh of disbelief. You reread it a couple more times, making sure you’re reading it correctly. There’s simply no way someone like Choi San knows you exist, and if he does, then how? Sure, you’re gaining popularity on cam platforms, but you didn’t think the industry on the other side of the coin would take notice. Maybe you’ve just been naive. It’s essentially the same thing but without a script or team involved. You do everything yourself — the lights, the camera, the action. The idea of even attempting what ‘Afterdark’ is known for is quite daunting. The thought of potentially meeting San even more so.
Everyone knows Choi San.
Somewhat of a respected micro-celebrity, he is currently revolutionizing the stigma around adult videos and being an adult actor. Breaking stereotypes, barriers, and backs. Impressive. It also helps that he has adonis-like features and a smile that can universally melt hearts. Very helpful, indeed.
It’s still not fully clicking that you’ve been offered a chance to work with him. Not yet. Most likely, it’ll hit you in the morning when you check your phone for the millionth time, making sure you didn’t just dream this all up in a post-orgasmic haze. Each time you reread it, the words stay the same. The name jumps out at you.
“Fuckin’ hell…” you whisper, pressing your palm to your mouth, reading the email over just one more time. That’s what you tell yourself anyway.
A collaboration… you assume that means on his turf. On his side of the industry, anyway. Your mouth dries. Are you even up for this?
A visual learner all your life, you find yourself opening a private browser and looking up a porn site you know has posted a couple of San’s videos. For research. Literally. Your thought process is to refresh your memory, imagine yourself in the actress’ place and discern whether or not you think you can handle what this offer entails. You pick the very first result after you enter his name in the search box, and settle back against your pillows, nervously biting your nails as the video begins.
It starts off like many others of its kind, a flashy montage of what’s to come – pun unfortunately intended – to entice viewers to keep watching. You skip ahead, like many do, not caring for whatever ‘plot’ has been thrown together to justify why these two hot people are sleeping together this time. Although, from the clips you do see as the video jumps ahead, inching closer to the real action, you have to admit he’s a decent actor. You stop skipping through it towards the end of their conversation, landing at the proposition and steadily rising scripted passion.
San steps closer to the actress, really getting into her space, and holding eye contact the whole time. The type that would make any girl melt. It’s not fiery or intimidating, no, it’s something much worse.
Desire.
He mumbles something under his breath that you don’t catch, too focused on how his hands wrap around her waist, pulling her in closer. What startles you is how… almost vulnerable he looks. Attentive. His head tilted down slightly, looking at her through his eyelashes, enchanting her so effortlessly as his hands gently wander. You cross an arm over your chest, eyes still fixated on the phone screen. You’re getting affected this much just watching him look at her like that? How the hell will you possibly be able to handle it in real life? The short answer is: you probably won’t.
Because the next time you skip, impatience gnawing at you to just see and know what he does, you’re thrown right into the fray.
The camera is almost cinematic, capturing precise angles where everything can be seen, the lighting low and sensual. They’re on a large bed, and San has taken the time to place one of the pillows under her head as well as her hips. A blindfold covers the actress’ eyes, but you can tell right away she’s been steadily crying through the fabric. Her hands tighten in his hair, his mouth latches onto one of her breasts, and his hand between her legs where quiet, constant, wet sounds are being drawn from. Still, he looks earnest. Genuine. Like he cares about her pleasure, and wants to make sure she’s getting just as much out of this experience as he will. At this point, you’re sure the script is thrown out the window, because the way he talks to her, so soft and sincere, praising her closer and closer to the edge, is something that no scriptwriter could come up with. No, this was pure San.
When she’s close, she tells him immediately and he changes nothing. He whispers the same praises, keeps his hand at the same pace and angle, reaching deep and curling up over and over, coaxing her body to release. The automated subtitles are no help, so you turn the volume up just a bit more, so you can hear him clearly. He must’ve been edging her because she starts begging him, trying to not pull his hair out at the roots. He simply covers her mouth with a free hand and leans over her, giving her permission to let go for him.
She shudders violently, thighs pressing into the sides of his body to prevent him from moving. He's not going anywhere, though. That infamous dimpled smile appears as he watches her come undone beneath him.
Your thighs clench. That’d be you.
His voice drifts languidly from your laptop speakers, melting your brain even further. “Yes, baby, that’s it. There you go… such a good girl.”
A girlish squeal gets stuck in your throat and you press your lips together to ensure you don’t let it out. You haven’t even said yes yet. There could be conditions you don’t agree with, payment arguments. He could be an asshole for all you know. Or this could all be a very elaborate and convincing scam.
Still, just in case it is real, and for the sake of ‘research’, you keep watching.
He kisses her chest, slowly making his way up her throat, her jaw, until he reaches her lips. He takes his sweet time, like he knows no one would dare look away. She sighs into his mouth, quiet whimpers leaving her every so often while he gently rubs her clit, just enough to keep her stimulated as she gets used to the feeling of being empty once again. You wonder what it’s like to kiss him. Your hands itch to reach for your phone and text Yeosang to tell him everything, however, you’re rather busy holding them still at the moment.
You appreciate how he doesn’t move onto the next thing immediately. Too many times have you seen other actors in his industry not giving their partner a bit of a breather after such an intense orgasm. Granted, some may like that, the overwhelming and constant stimulation, but the way San allows her to take her time, silently encourages her to follow the deeper rhythm of his breathing, and how he holds her hand and places slow, soft kisses all over her body, it all adds up to make you crave a slower pace. An intimate interaction like this.
San checks in with her quietly, and with a nod from her and another peck on the lips, he’s positioning himself between her legs. Stars in her eyes, she reaches down and strokes his length, whimpering softly. He gently brushes her hair back, admiring the look of nervous anticipation on her face. When he finally pushes inside, the two of them moan at the same time. Buried the way in, he smiles down at her before kissing her deeply. All dimples. A broken moan of his name tumbles from her lips, and you’re almost sure she didn’t realize she even said anything. She’s staring up at him like he’s a deity. Like he’s come down from heaven just for her. And she’s not acting.
One thing you know for sure: you’d be stupid to decline the offer.
You consider your mind made up.
Reluctantly exiting the video, saving it for later, you reopen your email app. Part of you wonders whether or not two in the morning is an appropriate time to email someone, but another part of you simply doesn’t care. It’ll be in Mr. Kim Hongjoong’s inbox first thing when he wakes up tomorrow. Your reply is enthusiastic yet professional, expressing appreciation for the offer in the first place. You thank him and San for taking notice of you and offer praise of his work as well. Wrapping up with the same politeness the original sender used, you sign off with your name. Your fingers hover over the keyboard for a minute before adding a kiss emoji to the side of your name. Before you can second guess that choice, you send it off.
Needing to expel some of these nerves, you get up out of bed to scavenge your fridge for a well-past-midnight snack. Maybe yogurt or something. Standing in the white light of the fridge, you realize food may not be the best choice. Nothing jumps out at you to want at two o’clock in the morning, stomach already doing flips and tricks as it is. You settle on a mini carton of strawberry milk that you may or may not finish and walk back to bed a little too fast. Quicker than your usual leisurely pace.
You glance at your phone, laying face down on your bed like what you just watched on it made it shy. You want to text Yeosang so badly, to get his take on all of this, but you should let him sleep. Just because your sleep schedule is fucked doesn’t mean you have to ruin his as well. Your fingers absentmindedly tap the carton, only two sips deep in your drink. Hm.
You’re just starting to flirt with the idea of calling Yeosang anyway when you get a notification that effectively snaps you out of your thought spiral. Whoever or whatever it is has just unknowingly saved Yeosang’s REM cycle.
Not expecting a response so soon, your eyes widen a bit when you see that you’ve gotten a response back already. The quickness makes you a little wary. Scams usually are quick to respond back too.
Or, this ‘Hongjoong’ guy may have a sleep schedule quite like yours. After all, you responded rather quickly to his first email.
__________________________
Hi Miss Y/N,
Thank you for getting back to me so quickly. We are thrilled to hear that you are accepting the offer.
The next steps in moving forward are rather simple. I will ask you to fill out a form – which I have linked to this e-mail – and send that at your earliest convenience. It is your basic questionnaire, really, and a chance for us to get to know you as well as your preferences for the shoot and scene.
After you have sent that and we go over it, I would like to meet with you – either in person or through video call – for both our safety and to finalize all arrangements. If you choose to meet in person, I will gladly bring along a female member of my team in an effort to make you feel more comfortable and safe.
As always, please feel free to reach out if you have any questions, comments, or concerns. Looking forward to hearing from you again.
‘We are thrilled to hear that you are accepting the offer.’
At first, you assumed he was just referencing the production company, but the specific use of it catches and holds your attention. Did San… ask for this collab to happen? Scrolling up to reread it again, the second line of the first e-mail you were sent strikes you: ‘We have been admiring your work for a while now…’ Not just the company. ‘We’ as in…
You swallow hard, setting the strawberry milk on your nightstand and shrinking back against your pillows again. Your phone burns your eyes in the dark, but you can’t stop reading this new message. There’s so much to unpack, even though it’s so straightforward. As of right now, in regards to meeting with Kim Hongjoong, you’re leaning towards just a video call. You’re still not quite totally convinced this isn’t an elaborate prank of some kind. Maybe a weird fan who wants this to happen but there’s no truth to it. But again… you don’t get that vibe. Not from how professional this seems. And a crazy fan wouldn’t offer to bring along another woman to make you feel more comfortable, he’d insist on meeting alone, under the guise of ‘protecting our privacy’.
And if it is real… then it is really happening. Moving forward, as the talent agent said, a collaboration in the early stages of planning. With Choi San.
Dammit, Yeosang, why can’t you be awake right now, you think and you huff dramatically, burying your face in your hands. He’ll certainly get an earful of all of this tomorrow afternoon.
But you decide you need to talk this through to somebody right now. Or some people.
Even though you just went live, you’re quick to open your Discord app, not even bothering to send a warning message to tell your exclusive members that you’re going live again. This time, just for them. You know they’ll come. They always do.
Once you have your laptop adjusted and headphones on, you’re ready to go. You click the microphone button and wait.
As expected, four of them join immediately. You regularly wonder how they’re all able to drop everything to watch you, no matter what time you go live. Two others join soon after, but they rarely comment in the chat. Silent viewers with open wallets are never unwelcome here.
“Hi guys! I have big news,” you smile into the camera, reading all the messages as they pop up.
[woogoesthere]: tell ussssssss!!!!!
[fix0nmi]: 👀?
[mars9843]: what is it cutie?
[puppyu.u]: hi baby why the secret meeting?? 👀
You take a minute to let them get all their guesses out, increasing their desperation to know what you’re hiding from them. Hopefully they’ll take the news well. As far as you can tell, none of them specifically come across as the parasocial jealous type, but you don’t know for certain. However, they seemed to handle your previous collab with Yeosang pretty well. That gives you some more confidence to confide in them about this.
“I’ve been offered to do a collab with someone from…” You pause before saying the company name for dramatic effect. “Afterdark.”
You’re a little surprised by the lack of comments right away, even worried a little. The thought of them being the parasocial jealous type crosses your mind again. Especially Woo. For a split second, you worry that you may have just angered your most loyal – and charitable – fans. The abrupt absence makes your heart plummet to your stomach.
It takes a full minute before anyone says anything. The longest minute of your whole life.
[woogoesthere]: are u telling us ur collabing w choi san?!!??!?!?! :0
Leave it to Woo to ease any worry you may have. You mask your relieved exhale under a light laugh.
“Should I be worried?” you half joke.
The immediate responses in the comments are overwhelming and collective:
[puppyu.u]: yes!!!!!!
[mars9843]: be afraid, be very afraid
[fix0nmi]: he’s gonna wreck you lmao
[fix0nmi]: icw to watch 🤪
[puppyu.u]: same 😭😏😭
[mars9843]: if you could barely handle yeo………
Your confident smile fades slightly, the corners of your mouth dropping back down as you read the multiple comments confirming what you’ve been wondering.
[woogoesthere]: guys stop ur gonna scare her ㅠㅠ
You try to laugh it off, looking off camera to grab your strawberry milk again. The action gives your hands something to do as worry begins to settle in your chest. Of course, Woo tries to ease your growing anxieties in the chat as you lift the bottle to your lips, eyes still scanning the messages… or rather, the warnings.
[puppyu.u]: well it’s true
[woogoesthere]: we should be encouraging tho >:(
[fix0nmi]: yeah or else she won’t do it 👀
[mars9843]: …
[mars9843]: y/n we’re just kiddinggggg
[fix0nmi]: you’ll be fine~! >:)
[woogoesthere]: -.-
[puppyu.u]: drink lots of water beforehand!
[woogoesthere]: you pervs are so annoying
“I can do it!” You try to regain your previous confidence.
A shroud of doubt begins to creep up over your shoulders, weighing you down. You’re able to hide it well, but you go quiet. Quieter than usual when you’re live. You don’t like silences that last too long. Unfortunately, your sudden silence is noticeable.
[puppyu.u]: babyyyyyy
[puppyu.u]: don’t listen to us we’re just teasing
[fix0nmi]: haha sorry baby
[mars9843]: you’re gonna be great, pretty girl
[fix0nmi]: can’t wait to see it ;)
[woogoesthere]: you ARE gonna be great
[woogoesthere]: choi san has no idea what an honor this is fr ㅠㅠ
That last message brings your smile back, tugging at the corners of your mouth until you give into it. ‘Woo’ is right. You have to remember who the fuck you are. Choi San sought you out specifically. There’s no need to be nervous about anything. It’s a different side of an industry that you’re already accustomed to, that’s all. You just have to adapt to however it operates for one day, and if you hate it, you’ll never have to do it again. And hey, you’ll get to say you’ve had that first and only experience with San of all people.
What a debut.
Your loyal fans must notice the confidence boost you’re experiencing because they’re quick to praise it in the chat.
[fix0nmi]: there she is :)
[woogoesthere]: ugh ur too cute
[puppyu.u]: fr that bastard has no idea how lucky he is ㅠㅠ
[mars9843]: he better be nice to u >:(
“Aww, you guys are so sweet,” you giggle softly, enjoying their attention and their praises. Your nerves are somewhat settled for the time being, though you can’t promise they won’t return once you open your eyes tomorrow morning. You wonder what Yeosang will say about it.
Leaning back against your headboard, you exhale deeply – maybe even adding a little hint of a whine-like noise to keep them entertained. ‘Pervs’, as ‘Woo’ put it, indeed. Not that you minded.
You hum to yourself and mention how much better they’ve made your night, and they eat it up.
“Thank you all for your love and support. Truly.”
You talk with them for a while longer, reciprocating their interest in you by asking them about their days and what they’re doing tomorrow. One of the silent viewers goes offline, and you can’t say that you blame them – no one should still be awake at this hour. You’re not sure if you’ll fall asleep quickly after you log off, so maybe that’s why you linger here and continue to talk with them. The minutes continue to go by and you start to feel guilty for keeping them all up this late. You know it’s their choice to stay and talk, but still. Odds are that at least one of them has to be up early tomorrow morning. They won’t leave until you do.
“I’m gonna go to bed, guys. Thank you for staying up and chatting with me.” You smile, watching all of their usernames simultaneously start typing again.
[mars9843]: goodnight cutie
[fix0nmi]: night babe ;)
[woogoesthere]: aww have a good night jagi <333
[puppyu.u]: sweet dreams baby <3
[puppyu.u]: <3333
You giggle, noticing ‘puppyu.u’’s competitiveness. Before ‘Woo’ can start a war to see how many 3’s they can add to their hearts, you quickly blow them all a kiss and end the call.
The silence of your apartment comes back quickly. Naturally, so do your racing thoughts. You place your laptop on your nightstand and crawl back under the covers, hoping against hope that you can smother your thoughts with your pillow.
Your phone vibrates against your thigh and you sneak a quick glance at it, half-expecting another e-mail, only to find a Venmo notification. It’s from Woo. Your exclusive members have the username of your ‘business’ Venmo account to send you money outside of cams, if they choose to. The message he attaches to the money makes you laugh: ‘i’m not losing to puppyu.u so easily. goodnight<333333333333’
Oh, man.
Make that $14,751 now.
You wince as you notice the time in the upper lefthand corner of your phone screen. Yeosang was very clear in his text: you better be awake by noon. Knowing how late you usually sleep until, it’s not looking good. Hoping it will help, you set several alarms on your phone. Surely one of them will wake you up. You switch your phone off, refusing to check it again until tomorrow morning.
Without your phone to distract you though, all you do is replay that video you watched of San and that actress. The memory of it projects against your eyelids and you can’t look away. A shiver runs through you when you picture how his hands held her with such gentle strength, and the addictive moans he wasn’t afraid to let out. The same thought echoes until you finally fall asleep: that’ll be you.
· · ─────── ·☆· ─────── · ·
Against all odds, and seven missed alarms later, you manage to wake up – albeit, exhausted – around ten o’clock. Plenty of time before Yeosang is due to come over.
After you eat breakfast, you decide to spend the morning researching San, watching more of his videos, listening to interviews, stalking his Instagram, anything you can find to get to know him better. Or at least, to get a better grasp on what you should expect. Hongjoong never clarified if it was going to be just you and him at this future meeting or you, him, and San. You want to be ready.
From what you can find, you’ve come to the tentative conclusion that he appears smart, funny, well-traveled, and handsome. That last one is a given to anyone with eyes, though. It seems like he could’ve succeeded in any field of his choosing, but his candor is notoriously present and blunt whenever he gets asked why he’s gone into this profession: “I like sex. I happen to be good at it, so why not?”
You get it. Easy money.
His Instagram is mostly pictures of him in exotic locations. It seems you and him have dream destinations in mind for the future as well. Nine million followers strong – and counting – he has his comments turned off to them on every post. There is also no message option anywhere. He completely cuts himself off from being accessible. A part of you is a little jealous, but at the same time you like the closeness with your fans. It feels more intimate, it gives you a reason to be punctual and come back and care about what you do. Although some, like that ‘mntn3000’ guy, can sometimes be quite rude in the chat. You have your chat open to all, and your public Instagram is the complete opposite of San’s. Thirst traps, a highlight on your profile for song recommendations, and the ability to comment and message you. Not that you answer most of them. Most are gross, obnoxious, frankly misogynistic men who choose the most unhinged, disgusting words to express their… ‘desires’. You’re thankful for Woo and fans like him. Still… you find yourself wondering if you should limit your accessibility as well. Your popularity is rising. Maybe now is the time.
You still find yourself looking for everything and anything that has to do with him online. Everyone wants to be him or be with him. One of those guys. Of course.
You rest your head in your hands, groaning to no one in particular. After all the women he’s been with, you hope you can meet his expectations. A worthy costar. Same industry, different department.
By the time Yeosang knocks on your door at a quarter past noon, your mind is so far away he has to call you to let him in.
“Hey, sorry.” You apologize, ushering him in and locking the door behind him.
“I knew you wouldn’t be awake,” he grins, making himself right at home on your couch. “Is going live for thirty minutes really all it takes to make you catatonic the rest of the day?”
You roll your eyes, swatting his shoulder as you sit down next to him. “Shut up, it’s not because of that. Well… not exactly.”
Yeosang quirks an eyebrow, intrigued. “Go on, then. What’s up?”
You pull out your phone, ready to show him the evidence to back up what you’re about to say. The original email is still unchanged as you glance down at it, which is encouraging. Another reminder that you didn’t make this all up in your head. It didn’t happen in a dream, there’s hard evidence staring you in the face.
Well, now or never. Out with it.
“I, um… I got an offer to work with Choi San.” Your voice toes the line between excitement and cautious optimism. If anyone’s opinion matters to you at all, it’s Yeosang’s.
Yeosang’s eyebrows raise at the name. “Like… the Choi San?”
“The Choi San, yes.” You nod, confirming it’s exactly who he’s thinking about.
Handing your phone over to him, email ready to be read by a fresh pair of eyes, you watch his reactions closely. You find yourself biting the side of your thumb nail, a habit you keep thinking you’ve grown out of, only to be proven wrong in times like these.
Yeosang’s face is serious as he reads it. You can tell he’s searching for any indication of this being a scam first and foremost before he digests the rest of it. Finding no blatant or well-hidden tricks, he pays more attention to the general message.
“Are you gonna do it?” He asks, handing your phone back to you. His voice holds some reservation to it that you clearly pick up on. You take no offense, though. He’s just worried about you. It’s more… public than you’re used to.
“I don’t know,” you shrug, answering him honestly. “I’ve done my research on him and already sent them an email back saying that I was interested and wanted to know more, but… do you think I should?”
You truly value his opinion. Yeosang has been such a good friend to you for the past couple of years. The two of you had met in your second year of college and became fast friends. When you moved to the city, about a year after he did, he helped you find your first apartment, got you a job, and checked in on you to make sure you knew you had a friend here. He made everything easier. He still does.
Yeosang shrugs, “Doesn’t matter what I think. If you feel confident about doing it, then go for it. If something is telling you to not do it, then don’t.”
He makes it sound so easy. Should it be?
“Yeah, but… I value your opinion.” You mumble, not outwardly saying what you’re thinking. But he reads your mind anyway.
“Y/N, it’s not gonna change my view of you if you decide to do this. If I had a problem with my best friend being a mattress actress, I would’ve told you a long time ago. Y’know… before I collabed with you.”
At this, you can’t help but laugh, knowing he’s right. A pressure you didn’t realize was weighing on you is alleviated off your shoulders, making you feel lighter. He grins as you let out a small sigh of relief, glad that he eased some of your worries. Now, to tease you about it. As best friends do.
“I’m just worried that you won’t survive the experience,” Yeosang says dramatically, covering his eyes with his arm and sneaking a smile your way.
“Stop, what do you mean?” You push him, playfully.
“You said you researched him, right?”
You nod, wondering where he’s going with this. Is there something you’ve missed? You feel like you’re the only one left out of a well-known inside joke. You try to think back to the videos you’ve seen of him. Sure, you haven’t watched his whole filmography, but nevertheless, you’d like to believe you know roughly what to expect of him when the day comes.
“Did you watch the ones he’s done for ‘Fantasy’?” Yeosang smirks.
You blink, trying to remember if you did. To be totally honest, you weren’t really paying much attention to which company was posting the videos. Just that San was in them.
“I don’t know… maybe?”
Yeosang shakes his head, already seeming to know the answer. “You’d know if you did,” he says definitively. “If you wanna know what he’s really capable of, watch some of those.”
You stop yourself from rolling your eyes, frustrated that no one will just tell you what they’re talking about. You only have one guess, that it may be due to the fact that you’ve only ever been with two guys before. They each taught you the basics, but everything you bring to your livestreams, you learned all on your own. And it’s not like you’re clueless when it comes to the different kinds of sexual encounters one can experience. You’ve watched porn before – hell, you do a type of it for a living. So why does everyone keep underestimating you? What does San possibly do to make everyone think you won’t survive him?
A part of you kind of doesn’t want to know. You don’t need to give your creeping self-doubt any more ammo. It had taken you a long time to beat it far back enough in your mind for it to not invade every time you hit a little snag in life. A resurgence would make you question everything, make you back out of this quickly. You don’t want that. No, you’re determined even more so now to see this through. To prove everyone wrong. More importantly, though, to prove it to yourself.
“Sounds like he sought you out though,” Yeosang says. His words almost make you jolt. Not only do they pull you out of another spiral, it reinforces something you were thinking in passing last night. Maybe you aren’t reading too much into it after all. “Kinda seems like this Hongjoong guy and San are fans of yours.”
You hide your face in your hands and groan, making Yeosang laugh at your rare display of shyness. It’s frustratingly unclear to you why the idea of him watching your content makes your cheeks burn so much. You’re obviously comfortable with people seeing your body and earning a profit from it, but you like the anonymity of the people watching. You simply don’t want to know. Perhaps it’s because he’s about to not be a faceless viewer anymore. Rather, a colleague of sorts.
Also, in a way, you tend to view cam’ing as more… intimate than porn. The sole focus of the audience is on you. No fake plot, no costar, no distractions. Just you, reading the chat, and existing and getting off in real time.
“Sounds like it,” you agree. “I must’ve done something he likes to pique his interest.”
Yeosang shrugs, a playful grin tugging at his lips. “Or he saw the collab and this is all just an elaborate ruse to get to me.”
You’re grateful to relax enough to laugh again. “Oh, I bet.” You say, playing along. Though, part of you does wonder for a brief moment if San had watched the collab and that’s why he thought you’d be a good partner for his next project. It’s definitely plausible.
“So,” Yeosang leans back against the couch, crossing his legs, “what do you have to do now?”
Remembering the phone in your hand, you look down at it, visualizing that attachment Hongjoong sent you. Yet to be opened. “There’s a form I have to fill out, I think it’s some kind of consent form.”
He nods, “Yeah, that’d make sense.”
There’s a small silence between you that follows as he watches you stare down at your phone. You have the most recent email pulled up, analyzing it again. He watches you bite the inside of your cheek, a habit you have that comes up when you’re thinking a little too hard about something.
“Do you want me to go through it with you?” He asks, though he thinks he knows what you’ll say.
“No, I’ll do it myself. It’s gonna ask like… in depth questions,” you insinuate, almost shyly.
Yeosang doesn’t press you on it, which you appreciate. But you know he’s probably thinking there’s not much he doesn’t know about you. After all, he was fingering you to high heaven in front of a camera only a week ago. Still, he doesn’t push your privacy or your boundaries. It’s one of the many things that makes you feel safe with him.
Breezing past the subject, knowing you probably need to relieve some stress, he picks up one of the gaming controllers on your coffee table.
“Rematch?” He asks, referring to a game of Mario Kart fairly won by you, though his opinion of the event is rather different. Something to do with you ‘innocently’ bumping into him, causing him to almost drop his controller, and giving you the lead in the race. His win streak is much cleaner than yours.
“You’re on,” you agree, playfully narrowing your eyes at him as he scoots away from you on the couch.
There’ll be no ‘accidents’ this time. But maybe you’ll think of something.
· · ─────── ·☆· ─────── · ·
The rest of the day is light.
Little by little, the weight of uncertainty you feel fades into the background, instead transforming into unserious frustration as Yeosang beats you in Mario Kart six times in a row. You win the seventh round, but you highly suspect he let you. He had several speed boosts and red shells that would just disappear from his screen the next time you looked, wondering when he would fire one of those shells at you.
You order in, opting to stay inside and just be lazy today, and the two of you eat on the couch. When the sun eventually starts to set late in the afternoon, he takes a nap while you scroll on your phone, half-watching a K-Drama on your TV. Neither of you bring up San or the form still laying in wait in your inbox again. He wakes up around eight o’clock, yawning and stretching as he gets up to go home – he mentions that he promised his friend he’d go out with him tonight. Though he extends the offer, and part of you does want to go, you decide to be responsible and take the night to go through the form with a somewhat clearer mind than last night or this morning.
Almost as soon as Yeosang leaves, you’re back in bed and pulling everything up on your laptop. The attached file on the most recent email takes just a second to load, bringing you to a Google Form sheet, ready to be completed.
But first, you think about what he said about San. You want to know what everyone else already seems to. At least one video. Just for research purposes again.
In another tab on incognito mode, you hesitantly type in the search for ‘choi san redfantasy’ and bite the inside of your cheek as the page loads. The typical ads pop up before you’re able to see any actual content, avoiding the scams and viruses with practiced ease. Trying to not overthink it, you just click on the first video that comes up. In fact, you barely look at the title. It’s in all caps, a bunch of buzzwords and tags jammed together to get as many eyes on it as possible, but his name is always put first. That’s the seller right there. Audiences are in the market for Choi San.
There is no plot this time, at least none that you can discern. The lighting is darker, as well as the mood. There’s less build up, the action begins almost straight away after the company logo screen fades away.
Your chest constricts at the very first shot. A rather pretty woman, on her knees in the middle of a room. Her bare knees dig into the plush carpet beneath her and she looks up at the man in front of her, tilting her head up with a firm hand in her hair.
San.
“...didn’t you?” You barely hear him say to her, and you quickly turn up the volume on your laptop, rewinding the video ten seconds to hear the full question.
“You misbehaved today, didn't you?” He purrs, nodding once to give her permission to speak.
“Yes, sir.” She replies, obediently.
The hand in her hair is taken away, and yet she never takes her eyes off of him. You imagine that’s probably what she was instructed to do… but you’re starting to think a director wasn’t involved in this. Everything seems more intimate, less corporate. Like San just set up a camera in this expensive looking hotel room. A step above amateur porn.
San stalks around her, humming to himself as if sizing her up. The camera cuts to a slightly different angle, farther away, and you only just now realize that her hands are tied behind her back. The multiple static angles all but confirm your theory: everything in this video is by San’s design.
He then sits down on a rather large, black leather couch, facing her. The camera caresses his features, letting you see every detail of the tailored suit he’s wearing that fits him perfectly. The suit itself is probably more expensive than five of those couches. Wordlessly, he beckons her closer with two of his fingers. He almost looks bored. But you think bored is the wrong word… curious actually. Like he’s just taking his time, waiting for her to act first. His tempo is carefully curated and well-calculated. He reacts, even though he knows they’re both just enacting what this company wants to see. Like this isn’t just for the cameras. Every scene is serious to him, and yet it doesn’t come across as corny or too much. You wonder why he doesn’t go into acting. He seems more than able to convince people of real chemistry between himself and his co-star each and every time. And with a face card like his, you doubt he would’ve had many rejections.
Then again, you imagine it’d be rather hard to make a smooth transition into becoming a serious and respected actor after being in adult films.
She manages to make her way over to him, knelt in between his knees, waiting for further instruction. And he makes her wait. The camera cuts a couple of times, documenting the power dynamic from several angles. It’s evident a long time has passed because she keeps shifting her weight, knees never quite finding relief on the floor.
A small whimper leaves her, and it earns her a sharp smack across the cheek. You gasp at the same time she does, not expecting that at all for an action so miniscule. In almost the same motion, San’s grip returns to her hair, pulling her closer to his clothed crotch.
“Be actually useful for once, baby.” He says sweetly, like he’s praising instead of degrading her. “Earn it.”
You can tell she’s holding back another whimper, trying to be good. San guides her further down, until her face is pressed into the front seam of his tailored pants, and holds her there until she realizes what he wants her to do. Rather pathetically, she mouths at his dick through the fabric. He’s not even hard yet. No, he fully expects her to do all the work for him, including getting him ready.
While she’s… busy, he lazily takes off his watch, setting it aside and rolls up the sleeves of his dress shirt to just above his elbows. You’ve seen him naked about a dozen times in these types of videos, and for some reason, this is what sends an uncontrollable shiver down your spine. Almost on sight, you feel how wet you’ve become, panties starting to cling to you.
His face is stony, refusing to give away what he’s thinking. That’s privileged information. But the harder he gets, the more motivated she becomes, tilting her head to the side to attempt to wrap her lips around his length as best she can. And yet, he never says anything. No praise, no degradation. He lets her actions speak for themselves, lets it burrow into her mind on her own. Pathetic. She doesn’t bother looking up at him for reassurance anymore. He’s not giving her anything to work with.
Abruptly, he yanks her back by the hair, just to see if she makes a noise. She does. Another sharp crack against her cheek makes you squeeze your thighs together. She takes three more slaps until he stops, his hands leave her entirely and one grips himself through his pants, sighing like he’s bored. Or rather, disappointed. From what you can discern from the print against his pants, he’s only half-hard.
“You don’t want it that badly, do you?” He asks like he’s already decided her answer.
Frantically, she shakes her head, denying his assumption. “No, no sir, I do want it. Please, I want it so–”
Unfortunately for her, his mind is already made up.
San rises from the couch, picking her up into his arms easily, like she weighed nothing. The camera cuts, now facing the bed, and San lays her down onto it. He then goes about tying her down to it, on all-fours. The girl’s face presses into the pillows, muffling any noise. San ties her ankles to the bedposts, leaving her spread open for him with no chance of closing herself off. Fully exposed, at his mercy. Or lack thereof.
San then loosens his tie before wrapping it around her throat, fashioning it into a makeshift collar and leash. He tugs it once, testing its reliability. Satisfied, he lets it go for the time being, no doubt planning on using it later. For now, he stalks around the bed, admiring his work, and assessing the best way to deal with the girl tied up in front of him.
“Since you couldn’t wait and just had to touch yourself before you came to me, I’m gonna teach you some patience.”
As if the last few times weren’t enough, an involuntary sound escapes from her lips. Soon enough, her ass is red and bruised, San’s hand quick to punish her for making noise.
“Be quiet,” he reminds sternly, “or you get nothing.”
That’s good motivation. Suddenly, you feel like you can’t make a single noise either.
He disappears offscreen for a while, the camera cutting a few times to capture how the anticipation makes the girl very nervous and wet at the same time. Impatient, you skip ahead thirty seconds and San pops back into frame, holding something.
There’s no warning, no telling her what it is. Only he and the audience (you) know. He holds the vibrator wand right up to her pussy, mere centimetres away and pauses. Her toes curl in an effort to stop the rest of her body from squirming. He waits for any minuscule movement. It’s when she cranes her neck, attempting to look back to see what he’s doing, that he turns it onto the highest setting and presses it against her clit in one swift motion.
Poor thing gasps and screams at the intense, unexpected vibrations, earning her another brutal round of spanks.
“Shhh,” he hushes her softly, “be quiet. Don’t move.”
Your pulse stutters, eyes wider than they were before, and your hand starts to drift downwards, underneath your clothes, to find your clit. The relief is immediate, like scratching an itch. You work yourself up alongside her, trying to follow San’s instructions yourself. Breaths turning shallow, you press your lips together to keep from making any sounds. If you really wanted to immerse and challenge yourself, you’d grab your own vibrator from the drawer, but you can’t tear your gaze from the screen. You don’t want to miss anything, and you feel like pausing it would disrupt the experience. If this is potentially what’s in store for you, and she doesn’t get a break, you don’t get one either.
Her fists tighten and grab at nothing, still bound behind her back. You can tell she’s losing the fight to follow through with his instructions. San notices this too. He moves the vibrator up and down, grinding the head of it harder on her clit before moving it away again. You have no idea how she’s managing to hold on.
San hears it the same time you do, not a gasp or a noise per se, but a hitch of her breath, just audible enough to hear. At the same time, her legs begin to shake, out of her control to stop them from doing so.
He takes the vibrator away, switching it off.
Her toes curl again, burying her face deeper into the pillows to silence any sounds. Your hand stops dead, even though all you want to do is keep circling your clit.
“See what I have to do?” He sighs, trailing the head of the vibrator down the back of her thighs. “If you just waited for me, I wouldn’t have to do this. I wouldn’t have to waste my time teaching you to be patient.”
Damn. Have you ever heard him talk to any of his scene partners like this? The San from the first video you watched as part of your ‘research’ seems a million miles away. A completely different person.
Eventually, the vibrator is returned to her clit, humming at full power. You resume your own administrations as well. San kneads her ass with his free hand, eyes glued to her body, waiting for her to fuck up. Any excuse to take the pleasure away again. An excuse comes when she’s forced back onto the brink of an orgasm, and he switches the toy off again. But he keeps it pressed against her pussy. On instinct, her hips rock backwards, trying to chase the pleasure, and you can’t help but groan out of frustration as you take your hand away. This time, he doesn’t administer spanks to her ass, but right on her pussy. And she can’t help the high-pitched yelp that leaps from her throat. San spanks her pussy until she shuts up. You don’t realize you’ve stopped breathing until the uncomfortable pressure in your throat forces you to inhale deeply.
The girl shudders after the last smack but doesn’t move or say a word. You’re both rooting for her and secretly hoping she’ll screw up again, just to see what he does. Also, you want to see if he’ll actually fuck her.
Rather impatiently, you skip ahead a couple of minutes, needing to know if he’s the type to punish by leaving her empty the whole time. It takes only a second for the video to buffer and when it does, you see that he’s added another toy, keeping it pressed deep into her pussy, right up to the very base of it. The vibrator never leaves her clit. The skin of her ass is bright red and already bruising in some areas. It looks rather painful. She’s moaning but it’s muffled and barely audible – you can imagine San gagged her in some way to keep her quiet after failing over and over again. Possibly with his tie. He doesn’t move the toy at all, instead just forcing her to feel the thickness and weight of it buried deep inside of her, no doubt pressing right up against her g-spot.
If he denies her again in this state, you’ll really be scared of him.
And that, he does.
This time, she wails through her gag, her whole body locking up and then quickly deflating in defeat. But the time in between denials is no longer merciful. San waits maybe ten seconds before starting again, placing the vibrator back where it belongs.
God damn– you think, becoming wetter as your fingers find your clit again, your own pleasure building. The poor girl shrieks into the pillows, incoherently pleading with him to stop. Instead of listening to her cries, San taps the vibrator against her pussy, driving her – and you – even more crazy.
“I’m doing you a favor,” he says flatly, not caring that she’s essentially begging for mercy. “You should be apologizing for making me waste my time to teach you basic manners.”
Your mouth drops open at that. He’s so mean, and yet if you were in her position – which you may be soon – you’re pretty sure you’d start apologizing right away. But she can’t, at least not properly. Not with a gag in her mouth and her face half-pressed into the pillows. You imagine after being denied what must be nearing ten orgasms at this point, her mind is also going a bit blank.
He presses the vibrator harder against her, making her back arch. “Tell me how sorry you are and maybe I’ll stop.”
That grabs her attention. Muffled, garbled, and barely full sentences immediately tumble from her lips, on the off chance that he’ll take pity on her and stop this edging torture. Her body shudders violently, cutting off her voice entirely.
Rather surprisingly, he does let up. Both toys disappear at once, and he watches her body collapse onto the bed, burning muscles unable to hold herself up any longer. But he doesn’t let the relief stay for long. His hand twists in her hair, yanking her upright until her back is against his chest. With the other, he rips the gag out – which was, in fact, his tie.
“I’ll give you one chance to tell me the truth,” he mutters in her ear, his other hand lingering dangerously close to her sore mound. “Did you just cum without permission? Yes or no.”
A sob tears itself from her throat, knowing that she’s been caught.
San pulls her hair again, causing her to yelp again. “Answer me,” he hisses, “and don’t you dare lie to me.”
“Y-yes, sir,” she whimpers, honest.
He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t let her go. He just makes her stay with that feeling of guilt, the shame of being caught, and the foreboding knowledge that he’s going to have to punish her again. With his free hand, he runs the pads of his fingers through her soaking wet folds, collecting the evidence for himself. To humiliate her even further, he shoves those fingers into her mouth, pressing on her tongue. She whines around them, which he rewards by shoving his fingers deeper, into her throat. Tears flow down her face and neck, already utterly fucked out and he hasn’t even touched her himself, really. He’s still fully clothed, for fuck’s sake.
San sighs, thinking aloud, “What should I do with you, hm?”
Busy choking and spluttering around the intrusion in her throat, she can’t answer him at all. He probably doesn’t want an answer, though. You have a feeling he knows exactly what he’s going to do with her.
Once again, you’re proven correct when he lets her go and pulls his fingers out of her mouth. He watches her gasp for air and cough violently for a fleeting moment of relative peace before dragging her back towards the edge of the bed.
“Fucking useless slut…” he mutters to himself, just audible enough for her to hear. “You wanna cum so bad? Fine.”
A new toy is brought into frame, this one looking more daunting than the other two. You can tell it’s one of those two-for-one types, and your heart goes out to her. It slips inside of her easily, though it’s thicker than the previous dildo, all but confirming once again that she did cum without his permission. This time, there’s no mystery or question about what he’s going to do to her. She knows. The knowing is almost worse than the not-knowing.
He switches it on without much ceremony. She does her best to not move or make a sound, but another orgasm builds rapidly. Too fast, too soon.
For seven straight orgasms, he just watches her. He doesn’t even touch himself even though you can tell he’s hard beneath those tailored pants. Her pleas fall on deaf ears, like he’s not even in the room. You’ve barely managed to keep up with her, coaxing two weak orgasms from your own body with just your fingers and already feeling exhausted. Fuck, maybe everyone’s right…
You tap the screen to see how much more of the video is left, and your eyebrows raise when you see there’s still ten more minutes. You decide to skim through, just curious if he ever does let her have his cock.
Spoiler alert: he does not.
In reality, the only thing he changes is that he jerks himself off, getting off on her screams and pleas for him to turn the toy off, that she’s had enough. For the last two orgasms he forces her through, he adds his thumb to her clit, circling it mercilessly.
“One more, come on. This is what you wanted, isn’t it? To cum?”
Through her tears and scratchy voice, she warbles, “W-want– wanted you t-to fuck me…”
He only laughs at her, and it sends such a blow to your psyche.
“Did you really think I would?”
She screams again, mixing with her sobs and choked groans as the final orgasm rips through her worn-out body. The only act of kindness he gives her is removing the toy and kissing her back, in between her shoulder blades.
He takes his time to untie her ankles from the bedposts, his hands smoothing over the skin where the rope had been. Wrecked and twitching, she curls into a ball on the bed, pussy sore and swollen. Knowing this, San drags her back down towards the foot of the bed, forcing her legs apart again. Her hands weakly try to push him away, but he ducks down, licking a near-fatal stripe up her folds, sucking harshly on her clit. Voice basically gone, her scream is broken and breathy.
That’s a habit he has, you’ve noticed. Or maybe just a signature thing. No matter what, when he’s done with his scene partner, he gives their pussy one final lick. As if he’s sealing the deal. Something they’ll feel long after the cameras stop rolling, along with the ache of their inner walls.
San chuckles, patting her inner thigh with his hand before pulling her onto the floor, back down onto her knees. He doesn't say anything more as he jerks off in front of her, aiming his cock right at her face. He lets her suck on it, much to your surprise, and he eventually comes. Some of it inside of her mouth, and the rest, he smears across her face. The final act of humiliation for her.
You slam your laptop shut.
Holy. Shit.
· · ─────── ·☆· ─────── · ·
You come back to the forms after a cold shower and a half an hour long pacing session in your living room.
With a somewhat clearer head, you decide to take it one question at a time.
At first glance, you can’t help but feel like you’re filling out the forms you’d normally get in a doctor’s office. It covers everything. Height, weight, age, consent for Afterdark to inquire upon certain medical history to ensure the prevention of any diseases or illnesses, and payment information. On the next page, it goes deeper, and you almost want to take another lap before you dive in and check off any of the boxes.
There’s a checklist of kinks, each one with a box to check if any are ‘hard no’s’ or ‘hard yesses’for you. You gotta hand it to Afterdark, they’re very thorough. At the very top, just above this checklist, you notice two more boxes simply labelled ‘Rough’ and ‘Gentle’.
Ah.
This must be the reason that every video with San feels different. Not just because of whatever context they provide in the beginning of the video, but he never exactly has the same go-to way of fucking every time. Except of course, that parting move he’s so accustomed to doing. With some women, he takes it very slow, gentle and caring with lots of praise, and with others, like the one you just watched, he is ruthless and mean, denying orgasms and spanking them until their skin turns an alarming shade of red. They’ve tailored their own experience with him. That makes you feel a bit better actually, gives you more of a sense of control. You’re not just walking into this with no say in what he does to you, nor will you be blindsided. Actually, you’ll have a pretty good idea, and no worries that he’ll do something you’re uncomfortable with.
The empty boxes still taunt you. Which version of him do you want?
After much consideration, you eventually let fate decide. You pick both options. Rough and gentle. Let’s see what he does with that.
Moving on, forcing yourself to breathe slower, you continue down the list of kinks. Again, it’s very thorough, even asking for locations that you’d be okay filming in. You check off ‘hard no’ on most, if not all of the ‘bodily fluids’ section of the kink list. All except creampies, crying, and squirting. You wonder if he’ll be able to make you do that. If so, you don’t want to discourage him from it. You’re okay with toys, cunnilingus, fingers in your mouth, body worship, hair pulling, hickies, clothed sex, light bondage, the traffic light system, and spanking, just to name a few. You also mean to check off a hard ‘yes’ to aftercare. Aftercare is a non-negotiable for you. One of your exes never did that for you, and it’s been a dealbreaker ever since you got out of that relationship. You dislike feeling used after-the-fact. Discarded. It’s an ugly shock to your system, one that you’d like to avoid if possible.
Double checking everything on this page, you go to the third and final page.
In the top half, there’s an interactive calendar so you can input dates and times when you’re free to do the shoot. You’re pretty much free all the time, if you’re being honest. You just have a family wedding to go to in late August, two months from now. Though you’d rather do the shoot later in the day, not wanting to risk sleeping through it with your terrible sleep schedule. So, you mark every afternoon and evening as ‘available’.
In the bottom half of the page, there’s just one last question, accompanied by a text box: ‘Tell us about yourself, and what we can do to better tailor this experience for you.’
You have to admit, you weren’t expecting this kind of question to come up. They want to know about you? Tailor this opportunity for you?
Huh.
Your mind goes blank at first. What could they possibly want to know? What are they actually looking for? There’s really no telling.
Slowly, you type out a vague summary of where you grew up, why you started doing cam-shows, and that your favorite color is purple. When it comes to writing about how they can improve on this collaboration, your fingers hover over the keyboard. Stuck. You could just straight up not say anything, or just put ‘N/A’. But your inner professional tells you to answer it. You search yourself, wondering if there’s anything that would make you feel a little more comfortable while there. You assume they’ll provide a robe for you, or something to cover you up when you’re not filming, but you’ve also heard how ‘fucking cold’ porn sets are kept. Not exactly wanting to show up with a blanket from home, you decide that’ll be your one request.
‘If it’s not too much to ask, I’d like a blanket while on set. Thank you! :)’
You double – triple – check each form page, making sure you didn’t accidentally check something off or type in your information wrong. After you confirm that everything is accurate and spelled correctly, you click on the ‘submit’ button. A ‘thank you’ screen pops up, and you quickly exit the tab, not wanting to think about it anymore. It’s out of your hands now.
But speaking of the hands it’s now in, you have to set up a meeting time with this Kim Hongjoong guy.
Right. Okay, onto the next step.
In a new email, you type out all the dates and times you’re free – you may have made yourself sound busier than you actually are – and send it off to him. Glad to have everything done, you flop back against your pillows and groan. You replay all the images you’ve seen. All the things he’s done to multiple women.
You wonder what on earth he’ll do with you.
· · ─────── ·☆· ─────── · ·
It’s the next day that ends up being the meeting day.
You opt for a virtual meeting, reasoning that it’ll probably be quicker and easier for both of you. From what it sounds like, being employed by Afterdark and Choi San keeps Hongjoong rather busy.
You do your makeup and hair, wanting to look presentable. It’s the shirt that gives you a headache. You’re rather unsure how professional you should look. What does someone wear to a meeting like this? You look down at your chest, trying to mentally calculate how much of it is appropriate to show, and choosing a shirt based on that. Eventually, you just pick a nice triangle lace cami. Kim Hongjoong will just have to excuse the fact that it’s summer and hot in your apartment in the afternoons. You’ve been meaning to figure out how the air conditioning works. It’s hi-tech in a way that truly baffles you. You’ll get Yeosang to figure it out the next time he comes over.
Moving your laptop into the kitchen for the natural light, you try to shake the nerves out of your hands as you walk around the kitchen island. You grab a cold water from the fridge and drink half of it before forcing yourself to sit down. The meeting is set for two-thirty, just a few minutes away. You kind of want to scream into the pillows on your couch. This will be the final stage until you actually go through with this whole collaboration. The last buffer until it happens.
In the upper right hand corner, you see an email notification from Hongjoong, providing you with a link to a video chatroom. For a full sixty seconds, you pretend you haven’t seen it yet. But when that minute is up, and you have to be an adult, you take one more sip of water before clicking on the link and sneaking a glance at yourself in the reflection of your laptop as the camera loads.
There’s a small boop sound from your laptop, signalling that the call has been connected and you brace yourself for a scam. Your hand hovers above the trackpad, ready to hit ‘end call’ at a moment’s notice. When his camera finally loads, you breathe a little easier. He’s in an office based on context clues of what you can see around him, and he’s rather handsome himself. That admittedly takes you aback. He has short, dark brown hair, round eyes, and a charming smile once he sees you on his screen. He pushes his glasses further up his sharp nose, and leans forward in his seat a little bit.
“Miss Y/N! It’s so nice to talk with you today, how are you?”
“I’m doing well, thank you. Are you the one I’ve been emailing?” You ask when he doesn’t introduce himself by name. You just want to clarify.
He laughs to break any awkward tension, “Yes, that’s me. My apologies, I’m San’s agent, Kim Hongjoong.”
“Okay, good.” You smile back, shoulders relaxing a little more. His dress shirt makes you feel a bit… well, underdressed, but when you notice that the top two buttons are undone, it makes you feel a bit better. He’s clearly not going for ultra-professional right now either. Off camera, in your lap, you play with one of your rings, giving your nervous hands something to do.
Unexpectedly, the first ten minutes are spent just making small-talk, especially after finding out you and him grew up around the same area. He asks you how you like the city, and you find yourself telling him about how much you love it, and that you never want to leave. Turns out he shares the same sentiment. It’s starting to feel less like a rigid job interview and more like a casual interaction. Nothing to be afraid of. You feel much more comfortable than you did ten minutes ago, that’s for sure.
Hongjoong eventually looks over to the side, where his desktop computer is and starts clicking around, the light reflecting off of his glasses. And you realize that it’s time to actually start talking about the collab. You fix your earring for no real reason, just to give yourself something to do.
“So, I’ve received the forms you completed – thank you for doing that, by the way – and I was wondering if you have any questions for me about them?”
You pause before you answer. Now’s the time to ask, and with the right person, too. Humming to fill the silence, you think about a good question to ask first.
Hongjoong picks up his phone when it starts vibrating incessantly, and looks at the screen for only a few seconds before placing it face down on his desk. Someone must be trying to get in touch with him, but he doesn’t bother with replying right now. You know it must be important, whatever it is, so you appreciate him keeping you the center of his attention right now.
“I guess I’ve been wondering about… like… if I check off certain boxes will we do all of that? Or…?”
Very eloquent.
Luckily, he doesn’t seem to think anything of it. “Oh, no, no. Usually what happens is we take a look at it, figure out which ones would work best together and with you and San, and take it from there. It’s just to see what you’re comfortable with and to see which direction you want this collab to go.”
That makes sense. And now that you think about it, what if someone puts a ‘hard yes’ next to something that San would check off as a ‘hard no’, obviously they wouldn’t do it. It’s a mutual agreement. They find the things that match between you two and take it from there.
“Actually,” Hongjoong says with a small grin, still scrolling through the forms on his computer. “You two are pretty similar. It wasn’t hard to match up.”
You hear it but your brain doesn’t process what it means yet.
“Oh, really?” You say, not knowing how else to respond.
Hongjoong just hums, nodding once. He pushes his glasses up again before turning back to you.
“Regardless of that, though, I wanted to also let you know that if at any point during the shoot you feel uncomfortable and want to leave, you can, and you will be paid in full, no questions asked. Obviously though, if you leave before, or if you don’t show up at all, we can’t really do anything to pay you. We have this in place because we don’t want you to feel trapped once the scene starts. Does that make sense?”
You nod quickly, “Yes, it does.”
“Perfect,” he says. “So, with your schedule that you sent me, if you’re okay with it, we can set the date relatively soon. Is this coming Friday, at six o’clock alright?”
Friday. As in… Friday, two days from now, Friday? Your mouth dries instantly. Two days from now. Is he not busy? You assumed this wouldn’t happen for a couple of weeks, at least. A delusional voice in your head tells you that maybe he cleared his schedule to be with you sooner rather than later. Oh, sure. Yeah, right.
Still, it baffles you.
And yet you hear yourself say, “Friday’s good for me!”
Well, now it has to be whether you’re ready or not. Your hands itch for your phone, needing to text Yeosang immediately, even though you know he’ll probably find your dilemma rather entertaining. You also need to book a waxing appointment and get your nails done ASAP. Maybe even a facial, too.
Fucking hell, Y/N, the things you get yourself into.
Hongjoong lights up, quickly typing something on his keyboard, scrunching his nose once or twice to keep his glasses from moving down again. A few more clicks of his mouse, and it’s done.
“Okay, perfect. I’ve got you booked for six o’clock this Friday. If you could email me where you’d like our driver to pick you up, that’d be great. Otherwise, do you have any other questions, comments, or concerns for me?”
Your lips part. Driver? Someone from Afterdark is going to bring you to the set? Your right hand grips your phone, turning it over and preparing to call Yeosang as soon as you hang up with Hongjoong.
Fuck, okay. Sure, why not?
“Oh, um–” you suddenly remember one thing he hasn’t mentioned at all. “Is there a script? Like, do I need to know any lines before…?”
Hongjoong answers right away, “Ah, this shoot will be unscripted. It’ll feel more natural that way.”
More natural. Your heart feels like a brick in your chest. To be honest though, you’re really glad there is no script. However, a rubric would be helpful as well. You nod, acknowledging that information. So it really will be like the videos you watched. That’s the experience you’ll be getting.
“Okay, cool,” you reply, desperately needing another drink of water for your dry mouth. “Thank you.”
Hongjoong smiles politely. “No problem. Alright, well if everything sounds good, we’ll see you on Friday! Thank you for taking the time to speak with me today.”
We.
Again, he’s probably just talking about the company, but Yeosang’s words from yesterday are stuck in your head. Your secret delusions and Yeosang’s smart mouth are never a good mix.
“See you Friday! Thank you.” You reply politely, the very picture of calmness and professionalism.
And once the call disconnects, you’re slamming your laptop shut and calling Yeosang to tell him everything.
He picks up on the third ring, yawning and obviously not fully awake just yet. You forgot he went out with his friend last night. Still, it’s definitely time for him to be awake now.
As expected, once you rattle off every detail of the call you were just on, Yeosang laughs his ass off.
“Oh man,” he says with an audible sigh, “you’re fucked.”
· · ─────── ·☆· ─────── · ·
Part of you wishes that the driver will somehow get hopelessly lost on the way to the set.
You’re sure he’s been there multiple times before, but you pray for a random dose of amnesia anyway. It’s not that you’re second-guessing the decision – not at all – you just weren’t expecting the day to come so soon. It’s crazy how forty-eight hours now seems like no time at all. You shake out your hands as you step out of the car, and look up at the building. It’s rather unassuming, blending seamlessly into the numerous ones around it. Nothing about it screams that this is where adult films are produced. Not that you really expected it to.
The driver parks with the hazards on, and gets out as well to let you into the building via a keycard. You thank him quietly as he holds the door open for you. He must’ve told you his name, but for the life of you, you cannot remember it. He points you in the direction of the elevators, and confirms that he’ll see you later to drive you home.
Then, you’re alone. He gets back into the car and drives it around the building, to an underground parking garage you assume.
You take a deep breath in the lobby, finding the elevators quickly and starting towards them. Hongjoong said the shoot is on the eighth floor, so you press the ‘8’ button once in the elevator car.
As soon as the doors shut, the silence and gravity of what you’re there to do settles in immediately. You force yourself to take a deep breath, really dragging out how long you exhale to try and ease your heart rate. The second floor comes and goes, as does the third. But the higher you climb, the tighter your throat becomes. On floor five, you think of bailing. Past the sixth floor, already almost there, Yeosang’s custom text ringtone startles you. Glad to distract yourself, you immediately read the text.
[yeoyeo🌻]: don’t let him intimidate you, you’re the one he wanted for this
[yeoyeo🌻]: remember he’s literally just some guy and you’ll be fine
[yeoyeo🌻]: you’re gonna be great :)
You can’t help but smile, and you roll your shoulders back to stand taller. He’s right, as always. Choi San is many things, but at the end of the day, he is just a man. You have to view this as a very elaborate hookup rather than a career opportunity, just to calm your nervous system if anything else.
When the elevator doors open on the eighth floor, someone is already waiting for you on the other side.
Hongjoong.
You don’t realize until this moment how relieved you are to see a somewhat familiar face.
“Miss Y/N,” he greets, extending his hand out for you to shake, “it’s so nice to meet you in person.”
You smile warmly, returning the greeting and hoping that your handshake is up to par. Before you have time to possibly overthink such a small thing, he asks if you need anything.
“Oh, um…no, not at the moment, thank you.”
“Of course,” he nods once. “If you do need something at any time, please let one of us know.”
You assume that ‘one of us’ probably means the team of people you’re about to meet and be fucked in front of. Forcing another deep breath, you manage another easy smile and thank him again.
He motions for you to follow him, and you have to look down at your feet to get them to move. You beg yourself inwardly to get a grip and soon.
Hongjoong leads you down a long hallway, deeper into the Afterdark floorplan. You’re surprised by how nice it smells in here, like someone is burning incense somewhere. The walls are decorated with miscellaneous artworks and some awards, as well as headshots of the actors and actresses signed with them. At the end of the hallway, there are two huge double doors, and he pulls one of them open with ease, letting you walk into the gigantic room it reveals first.
When you finally enter the large set, you can instantly feel the drastic temperature drop. Just as you had been led to believe, they must have turned down the thermostat in the room, making it several degrees colder than the early summer weather outside, and you rub your arms to try and warm them up.
No more than five seconds after the two of you enter, Hongjoong is suddenly flanked by a young woman with a clipboard. A sticky note flutters as she keeps pace with you and him, and she mutters something to him that you can’t hear.
“No, that’s alright,” he says quietly, “I think he’s good without her right now, but double check for me, please.”
You keep your eyes on the floor, pretending that you didn’t hear anything, but your mind races. Who is ‘she’, you wonder? As quickly as she appeared, the assistant scurries off, past the camera and lighting crews, and over countless miscellaneous wires with practiced ease.
While the two of you walk, you’re rather relieved that no one is staring at you as you go by. You’re just another actress to them, and right now, that’s okay with you. And luckily, the path Hongjoong is taking you on is relatively close to the perimeter of the set, so you’re not exactly the center of attention right now. A part of the wall juts out, making it look like a closet, but once he opens the door, you see it’s a dressing room. Complete with vanity lights, a full bathroom, and a brand new silk robe for you to wear on set, hanging up by the door. There’s also a small, plush couch up against the wall next to the vanity that you have a feeling you will be texting Yeosang on as soon as you’re left alone.
“This is all yours for the day,” Hongjoong says, “someone will come around in a minute to help with hair and makeup, and then we’ll start.”
You nod, swallowing down as much of your anxiety as possible.
“Will you, um–” you ask before you can stop yourself. Hongjoong pauses before he heads out, waiting expectantly for you to finish your question. “Are you gonna be on set the whole time?”
His expression changes into something akin to surprise. Obviously, he wasn’t expecting you to ask anything about himself. He doesn’t answer straight away, taking a moment to try and understand why you’re asking that. You can almost see the professional within him piecing together a corporate response in real time.
“We try to limit how many people are in the room to those who are absolutely necessary. I usually stay close in case someone needs me. Why?”
You wave your hand, trying to brush everything off. “No, I was just wondering. Nevermind. Thank you!”
Hongjoong looks like he’s about to say something, but ultimately leaves you alone, gently closing the door behind him.
As soon as it clicks shut, you’re moving to sit on the couch, ready to call Yeosang, but you stop yourself at the last minute. You’re acting crazy, you do realize that. And you have a sneaking suspicion he’ll tell you the exact same thing.
Instead, to satiate your need to call him, you reread his last three texts of encouragement.
Lock in. Remember who the hell you are. Now.
You put on some ego-boosting music so you’re not just getting ready in silence, and quickly undress before hair and makeup arrive. Folded neatly on the vanity, is your outfit for the scene. A tight, cropped black lace cami, and a plaid mini skirt that leaves nothing to the imagination.
No panties anywhere in sight. No bra, either. Total and easy access.
Your lower stomach starts to heat up, already envisioning how San might go about undressing you. From what you’ve seen, rarely does he let girls undress themselves. No, he wants to be the one to do it. Like he’s unwrapping a present, just for him.
After you throw your hoodie onto the couch with the rest of your pile of clothes, you turn back to the vanity, noticing a small army of mini water bottles lined up and waiting for you if need be. You’re almost positive that if you look in the vanity drawer, you’ll find snacks as well. Maybe you can get used to this. But you’ll wait to give your final verdict after the job you came here to do is done. It’s best to wait.
You’re only waiting for a minute or two before there’s a light knock on the door. Two women wearing face masks enter the dressing room, bowing to you and introducing themselves. You try to remember their names – Youngmi, you think is the makeup artist, and Rina, the hair stylist – but your brain is elsewhere, working double overtime to try to calm you down. Luckily, the Britney Spears song in the background is doing a lot of the heavy lifting. Youngmi and Rina are quick, and good at what they do. Rina makes you laugh by scrunching her nose and singing along to the song as she brushes through your hair. Youngmi only rolls her eyes at her colleague, but it’s all in good fun.
By the time they’re done, you no longer feel like the scared outsider that doesn’t look the part. They made you even more beautiful.
There she is, you think as you admire yourself in the mirror.
You sigh in relief, feeling much more confident than before. And not only that, you feel ready. It’s not the easiest thing to turn your nervousness into excitement, but somehow, this time, you manage to do it. So many girls would kill to be in your shoes right now – or, in your skirt. You had kicked your shoes off next to the couch.
You make sure to thank Youngmi and Rina before they bring you out, not knowing if you’ll have a chance once you’re on set. With one more spritz of your perfume that you brought with you from home, and a last minute decision to bring the robe out with you, you finally follow them out towards the set. Just mere feet from where you’ll be… ‘performing’.
· · ─────── ·☆· ─────── · ·
As you’re walking and looking around, you start to wonder if San makes it a point to surround himself with equally beautiful people. Or maybe it’s a company requirement.
Sure, maybe Hongjoong, Youngmi, and Rina are just coincidences, but even the camera and lighting crew are arguably just as pretty. Speaking of Hongjoong, you look around, noting that he isn’t anywhere to be found at the moment. He’s probably with his talent right now.
When you’re introduced to the director, you almost say something about it. Everyone in this room is attractive. Conventionally, unconventionally, and everything in between.
“Hello Ms. Y/L/N, I’m Choi Jongho, I’ll be directing you two today.” He introduces himself, bowing politely and shaking your hand.
You bow your head and reply, “Hi, it’s nice to meet you.”
He offers you a chair to sit in while everyone waits for San to come out, and you take it gratefully. You don’t know how long he’ll be. Youngmi and Rina excuse themselves, heading off in the other direction together, walking with purpose. You drape your robe across the back of it, unsure if you’re supposed to give it to someone or take it with you onto the set.
“Would you like anything to drink, Ms. Y/L/N?” The director asks, noticing that you don’t have anything with you ready for any breaks.
Director Choi only refers to you as “Ms. Y/L/N.” Very professional, cordial even. Makes you feel like more than an object his star is about to fuck on screen. You’re being treated with real respect, which is a pleasant surprise in comparison to what you had expected from the porn industry.
You look around yourself, only just now realizing you didn’t take one of those mini water bottles from your dressing room like you originally planned.
“A water, please–” you start to say. As soon as the last syllable of ‘water’ is spoken, an assistant hands you one. You didn’t even see him standing next to you, much less holding a bottle. Then again, you aren’t really paying attention to whether or not people are carrying water bottles or not right now. Damn.
You try to warm up your arms by rubbing them, now that you’re virtually wearing next to nothing in this arctic-like room. Only a few moments later, a blanket is handed over to you wordlessly by another assistant, a quick bow following the action. You tilt your head down as a responding bow, shocked. You didn’t even have to say anything.
Is this what San is used to? Everything given to him at once, on a silver platter with no questions asked? You imagine every single thing handed to him accompanied by hopeful, round eyes looking at him for his approval, only to be ignored or thanked by a small nod. You’re so used to doing everything yourself, this type of treatment makes you feel… stuck up – and every fiber of your being screams at you to make sure none of the staff think that of you.
“San will be out in just a moment,” Director Choi says, but his heart isn't in it. He checks his watch and glances towards San's dressing room with nearly well-concealed impatience. It is rather late in the day, and you only just now think about the possibility that they may have been here since early morning. Maybe even shooting San with someone else. It’s entirely possible. You can imagine they all just want to get this last one done and go home. None of them would ever let that show, though. No, you have to admit everyone here is quite professional.
Your hands absentmindedly twirl a strand of hair around your finger as you zone out. At least for now, you can zone out with a blanket wrapped around you.
The air shifts just moments later.
It’s like a sudden pressure drop where everything goes still for only a second. That one second feels like a lifetime as you turn your head to see what’s going on. Though, in your heart you know exactly what it is without needing to look – it’s the arrival of the main attraction.
From where you are, leaned back in your chair, you can’t see him too well. He’s surrounded by a team that moves with him like a clump of cells, or maybe in this case, like sheep in a herd. Finishing touchups by Youngmi and Rina, an assistant by his side carrying a medium-sized leather bag and holding his coffee cup when San hands it to him, and other miscellaneous characters that float around the star. Everyone wants to be near him in some way.
Hongjoong stays at the back of it all, looking down at his phone as he walks.
The team finally disperses one by one, revealing more of Choi San to your eyes.
When San finally gets close enough to you, whatever air in your lungs is promptly sucker-punched out of you at the sight of his refreshing beauty. It’s even more pronounced in real life. You’re not entirely sure how to greet him, or what he’s used to. But you remember Yeosang’s encouragement again: He’s just a guy. Don’t let him intimidate you. You’re gonna be great.
He’s just a guy. You’ve dealt with those before. It’s just that this guy in particular is crafted like an apology for creating men in the first place. And a couple of days ago, you were watching him make a girl cry on a bed that looks quite similar to the one on set right now.
You stand up, smoothing down your skirt and standing still, hands clasped in front of you.
“Hey Jongho, sorry we’re late,” Hongjoong calls over, pocketing his phone. He side-eyes San, who bows his head in apology as he walks.
The director waves him off, clearly used to his tardiness and the apologies that follow. “It’s alright,” he says, “you’re actually earlier than we thought you’d be.”
“We need to go over the rules with her,” San says once he’s close enough to you and the director, sounding tired. You wonder if he just woke up. He rolls up the sleeves of his dress shirt as he speaks, and catches you looking. You don’t see it when you quickly avert your eyes, but his whole demeanor changes. No longer lethargic, he becomes awake and alert at the sight of you.
Director Choi nods and grabs a clipboard from his own director’s chair. You nervously roll your ankle, hearing it crack quietly in the interim.
“Right, number one rule is consent. If at any time you want to stop, just say the word. No questions asked. Second rule is to keep all details of this shoot private, including any conversations with each other,” At this, Director Choi looks up at you. “Third rule is health and safety, but Hongjoong said you covered that with him, and when you sent in the form,” Again, his eyes flick up from the clipboard to glance at you. “Fourth is to be respectful at all times – there’s no room for ego here. And lastly, don’t look at the camera unless told to, otherwise keep the illusion.”
You go over each rule in your head before you forget. Consent, confidentiality, feel safe, be respectful, and don’t look at the camera. Simple enough. You keep your chin up, and shoulders back. You force that annoying inner voice of self-doubt to mumble the lyrics of the Britney song from earlier.
“Follow these, and we’ll have a great shoot day. We should be ready to go in just a few minutes.” Director Choi offers both of you a quick smile before he turns on his heel and walks towards the cameraman, getting everything finalized and ready to shoot. Your heart pounds underneath the robe. Hongjoong steps closer to San, muttering something to him before walking back towards the dressing room.
You’re just about to walk over to the set to get used to it and be ready to go whenever they are, when San steps right in front of you, effectively blocking the way.
Out of the blue, he crowds your personal space, and you have to really dig deep to make yourself stay put. Right where you stand. Don’t be intimidated. At the end of the day, you’re both here to do the same job, and both of you are successful in your own rights. He’s just a man, you remind yourself again.
San towers over you, his shirt opened just enough for you to see his perfectly toned and tan chest right in your face. You keep eye contact, even though all you want to do is look away. It’s much easier to be confident and independent on your own turf, but here on his, it’s more of a challenge. Still, you stand your ground. You have to if he’s going to keep sizing you up. He has been since he walked out here.
“You didn’t cum,” he says matter-of-factly.
…
Pardon? Did you hear him right? What an odd opening line to say to someone you’re meeting for the first time.
Your lips part and eyebrows furrow, rather startled. “I’m sorry?”
There’s no way you heard him correctly.
“Your last liveshow,” he shrugs. “Am I right?”
Well… yes, but– how did–?
Is this how he starts all of his conversations? With a personal accusation?
“That’s alright. We all do it sometimes,” he shrugs again. He leans down so his mouth is next to your ear and lowers his voice. “You’re not gonna fake it with me, though,” he says, and the terrifying thing is that he sounds genuine. It’s not unfounded cockiness or meaningless bravado. He means what he says in all seriousness. He says it like you shouldn’t worry about it. Like it’s a promise.
And you exhibit monumental self-control to not clench your thighs together at this moment.
Your mind races at a million miles a minute. That, you didn’t expect. Isn’t that all that porn is? Fake, overblown orgasms for the girls and endless, guaranteed pleasure regardless for the men? You’re starting to think that this may not be the case with him. You think about the videos you watched as part of your ‘research’, and a bolt of electricity zips up your spine. You never doubted that he made his costars feel good, but you know full well that a lot of porn actresses pretend that they’ve cum with their scene partner. But with him, now you know: all of the girls weren’t acting. In fact, you really doubt that they needed to fake just how good he made them feel. The last video you watched of him comes back to mind… you wonder if he’ll make you scream like that too.
Unsure of how to respond to that, you just take a small step backwards to put some distance between you two. Room to think and process if possible. But he’s relentless, and he seems to like getting up in people’s space. A mischievous glint in his eye tells you that he’s enjoying this particular encounter especially. He’s definitely the type of guy that finds it fun to make girls flustered or nervous.
You swallow hard.
“You sound rather confident,” you note, still trying your best to hold eye contact with him. To not back down or seem weak. You’re sure it’s not working. You just refuse to melt all over him, or suck up to him. Especially not when he’s the one who asked you here.
Surprisingly, he smirks. “Shouldn’t I be? I’ve done my research, I know you probably have done yours as well.”
So you were right. Yeosang, too. San has seen your content before. And not only has he seen your previous works, he was right there with you, watching your last live. Your speculation sounds a lot like confirmation now.
“Does that make you nervous, kitten?” He whispers, tilting his head slightly to the side like he’s about to kiss you. He could if he just leaned forward a couple more inches.
A little, you admit to yourself. Your heart hammers against your chest like it’s trying to push you forward, to get closer to him. At this proximity, you can easily smell his cologne and dammit, somehow it makes him even more attractive. You’re almost getting annoyed with him now. Surely there should be at least one flaw to him, something that makes him human like the rest of the world.
“No,” you lie, “I’m fine.” Arms crossed. Eyes up.
San laughs lightly, and his smile instantly becomes the most attractive thing about him so far, even if it’s at your own expense.
“If you say so,” he shrugs again.
He doesn’t move away from you, though. Not right away. His gaze lingers on your lips for a fleeting moment, which gives you just enough time to come up with a question of your own.
“So, you’re a fan of mine?”
At that, he pauses. But, he doesn’t shy away from it.
“Yeah,” he says, owning up to it immediately. He straightens back up as you nod, taking in the information. “Have been for a while now. I saw that other collab you did with that guy, it was really fuckin’ hot.”
You make a mental note to let Yeosang know he was right about that, as well. To be honest, you weren’t expecting the compliment.
“I’m– glad you liked it,” you say, clearing your throat in the middle of the sentence. You’re doing pretty well on the outside despite your nervousness beginning to rise again on the inside. San studies you once more, like he’s searching for something on you that only he can see. You step back again and turn your face away from him as you take a sip from your water bottle, taking your time to screw the cap back on.
“Mm… you’re even prettier in real life,” he says, so casually it almost doesn’t register.
You nearly swallow wrong, just barely avoiding choking on the small amount of water still left in your mouth. Luckily, Director Choi calls over to you two to start making your way onto set.
The final few minutes begin to tick down.
You don’t attempt to hide the deep breath you take, but you do try to not make it very noticeable. Placing the water bottle onto the chair you were just in, you clear your throat again.
“Any final advice or warnings for me before we start?” You ask, keeping your voice casual and light. It’s a subtle dig to him, but you mean no malice behind the words. Fortunately, he picks up on it.
“Oh, tons,” he grins, keeping pace with you onto the set. It’s almost easy to forget the cameras.
You steal a glance at him as you walk, the floor bitterly cold beneath your feet. With each step the bed gets closer and closer. Now finally getting a chance to see the set in detail, you’re pretty impressed. It’s a pretty realistic bedroom setting, complete with shelves decorated with trinkets and records, but vague enough to have no specific personality. Nobody’s going to be admiring the set design when they watch this. Still, you appreciate the effort made by the production team to make it feel real.
The lights facing you are blinding and you wince when you accidentally look right into one. Good incentive to not look that way, you suppose.
San sits on the edge of the bed. “You get used to it,” he says, nodding towards the lights.
You nod as well, placing a hand above your heart, willing it to stop racing.
Noticing this, San takes your hand and guides you to sit down next to him. You do feel a bit better now that you’re sitting. You keep your eyes down to avoid burning your retinas, and turn your head slightly towards him. He shifts a little closer, positioning his body so he’s facing you.
“Nervous?” He asks rhetorically, knowing full well that you are. He’s still holding your hand, playing with each of your fingers one by one.
“Obvious?” You reply, managing to laugh at yourself, despite your nerves.
San grins, his eyes turning into crescents, and that dimple in his cheek reappearing. “Only a little bit. But, I’ve seen worse.”
You hum in response. Being reminded of his experience, leaps and bounds ahead of yours, does nothing to help your anxiety. You just hope you can live up to the fantasy version of your own self. That’s the version of you he invited.
Where’s Britney when you need her?
You push your hair back, a minute attempt to self-soothe in some way. You only realize halfway through the action that Rina probably just clutched her pearls somewhere past the lights, cursing you for messing up her work. Oh, well. According to what you’ve seen and the information you’ve gathered, your hair’s gonna be plenty messed up anyway.
The room is starting to become a lot less crowded. Just like Hongjoong had said, only the essential people stay on set to make sure everything goes smoothly and safely. Everyone else becomes fading background noise, filtering out into the hallway you first came in from.
But less distractions means you notice the man right next to you even more.
You can feel San’s eyes on you.
It’s not an uncomfortable feeling, quite the opposite actually. The weight of it is light, soft around the edges as he appreciates how he managed to practically will you onto this set with him. You’d been sure you may be insecure around him because of his almost unnatural beauty, but… actually, having his eyes on you right now makes you a bit more confident. He’s not looking at anyone else but you. Not just looking, but admiring.
His gaze drifts down, greedily drinking in the sight of your collarbone and legs – the only skin you’re revealing at the moment. If the crew would just hurry up, he’ll be able to see more.
Fortunately, he’s never been one to wait to get what he wants. Especially not in this industry. And right now, he wants you.
“I meant it, by the way,” he says quietly, “you’re beautiful.”
Without any water to choke on, or an interruption from the director, you simply look up at him, finally meeting his eyes. There’s no trace of irony anywhere. Not in what he said, and not hidden somewhere within his features. The genuinity, and the doubling-down of the compliment takes you aback.
“Thank you… you’re quite beautiful yourself.” You compliment him back, shifting how you’re sitting to face him as well.
By now, your knee is touching his. Even this small amount of contact between you makes your shoulders tense again. You’re not sure why, but you just want to melt into him already. Perhaps due to the undeniable attraction you feel towards him.
Maybe it’s the insane sexual tension between you both, that very well could be the root cause as well.
You remember how real his scenes look… this must be how the chemistry is kindled. Starting before the cameras capture anything, it makes it all seem less like a show. And you know what? Until the director yells ‘cut’, you’re more than willing to match that energy.
His hand moves from yours to rest on your thigh, slowly, like he’s silently asking for permission to continue. When you don’t flinch or push him away, he hikes up your skirt just an inch or two higher, exposing more of your skin. The light ghost of his touch makes you freeze in place. It’s already dizzying enough to have him in such close proximity, and now adding in the electricity of his touch, it’s a whole other level. And this, you assume, is just the warmup. Getting you used to the feeling of his hands on you. It’s nice that it doesn’t feel wrong.
The lighting crew dims one of the lights and one of them loudly asks the director if it looks good on camera. Distracted, you turn back to look their way again, but San gently cups your face with his hand, making you face him instead.
He hums, looking down between your still-clothed bodies. His other hand dips under the hem of your skirt, and your breath hitches. Worrying too much about the crew still, you look back to see if this is alright to do before the cameras start rolling.
“Don’t look at the camera, kitten,” San purrs, “I believe that was rule number five.”
“Oh, shut up,” you mumble without any real bite to your words.
That smile of his returns, and the energy between you becomes even more charged. The moment right before someone gives in after holding back for too long.
San never looks anywhere else, entirely focused on you. It doesn't matter to him that there’s about twenty people still in the same room, all witnessing this ‘warm-up’ unfold. It barely fazes him. He’s experienced in this setting, way more used to it than you are. You just have to roll with it.
His hand on your face drops back down to the mattress as his wrist turns, and you inhale sharply when he lightly drags his fingers through your wet folds. He hums again, clearly satisfied.
“What’s got you this wet already, kitten?”
Your lips part to answer, but he finds your clit before you can speak. This time, you gasp quietly before you can stop yourself. Once again, you glance over at the crew, wondering if anyone is watching the two of you. You can’t see very well because of the lights and the various equipment in the way, but several of the crew and team are.
San smirks, pressing the pads of his fingers harder against your clit. “You like the attention?” He asks, following your gaze. “It’s different from your little camshow isn’t it? Now the audience is only a few feet away…”
His fingers begin to move in small circles, occasionally dipping further down to collect your wetness before bringing it back up to your clit.
“San–” you breathe, catching his wrist in a semi-firm grip. Not to move it away, but just to hold onto something. Jesus, the shoot hasn’t even officially started yet, but you’re about to beg them to hurry up so it can.
San just moves closer to you, his eyes greedily drinking in your cute expression. His voice is quieter, so only you can hear him. “Already thought about all the ways I’m gonna make this pretty cunt cum for me. ‘M gonna make you feel so good.”
Another promise.
A shiver runs down your spine, and that’s the moment the crew decides that they’re ready to shoot.
San pulls away like nothing happened, even smoothing down your skirt for you. You force yourself to breathe through your nose, steadying your pulse. You quickly look down, checking to see if your top is still on straight.
Director Choi walks up to you both for final notes. “Alright, no script so we’re mostly gonna follow your lead, just let us know when one of you needs a quick break. All three cameras are going to be rolling, and one handheld. You remember all the rules?” He looks over to you.
You nod quickly, unable to meet his eye right now. The back of your hand lifts to your cheek to check how hot it’s gotten – as if you need additional confirmation. You hope you didn’t smudge your makeup or wipe some of it off by accident, but you imagine that if it shows up on camera, they’ll stop to fix it.
“Okay, then we’re ready to go.”
San thanks him as he walks off, turning his attention back onto you. Your gaze has dropped down to your lap, breaths kind of erratic from the little show you and him just put on, and from nerves. But you manage to pull yourself together, externally at least. All you really have to do now is look pretty for the camera. You can do that. Except for the live audience, this isn’t much different to a camshow, really.
And aren’t you here for your fans anyway? Sure, you also wanted the opportunity and experience, but it’s also for your fans. The ones who supported you enough to even get noticed by Afterdark and San in the first place. You imagine they’ll make up at least half of the view count whenever this video drops. You’re performing for them. Not for the strangers in the room.
Once that clicks for you, all your anxiety melts away, freeing you to finally just… enjoy this. Why not? You deserve it.
Plus, you’re quite eager to pick up right where you and San left off just moments ago – and it seems that San is too.
His gaze becomes heavier, darker as he shifts into his on-screen persona.
“C’mere, kitten, want you on my lap to start.” He says, moving back on the bed a little more and gently pulling you towards him.
You straddle his legs, slow to sit down fully. Now slightly above and closer than before, you can’t look anywhere else but at him. His hands slowly trail up your thighs again, watching you the whole time. You stop breathing when his fingertips tease the hem of your skirt again. He can probably feel through those dress pants he’s in how wet you are. Equally though, you can feel how hard he’s getting.
Subtly, you grind your hips down onto him. The immediate pleasure of the friction against your bare pussy makes your eyes roll back. One of his hands sneaks to your hip, gripping it tightly, and you meet his eyes again.
“It’s just you and me,” he says quietly, breath fanning across your cheek.
You nod, eyes fluttering closed again as you grind into him once more. “Okay…”
Through your pleasurable hazy fog, you faintly hear someone yell, ‘Action!’.
And San stops holding back.
The hand on your hip pushes you back and pulls you in, encouraging you to keep grinding on him – and to not stop anytime soon. His other hand moves to your hair, keeping your face close to his as he finally kisses you. His lips are pleasantly soft, and he tastes like peppermint. You hope you do too, you probably brushed your teeth at least four times before the driver showed up outside your apartment building. San seems to have no complaints as he moans quietly, his hand tightens in your hair.
Your whole body feels electric, every touch amplified by a thousand. He makes out with you slow and deep, savouring the taste of you, and groans into your mouth with each roll of your hips.
San tilts your chin up to kiss your neck, hiding his face from the camera. “Never answered my question,” he whispers, barely audible so his voice doesn’t get picked up by any of the overhead microphones.
You disguise your response as a moan, “Hm?”
He licks a small stripe up your neck, right up to your ear and looks down between you. You follow his gaze, only to find a wet patch staining his pants already.
Ah.
His question from mere minutes ago: What’s got you this wet already?
“So wet for me,” he murmurs, a bit louder. It’s alright if the microphones pick that up. “Wonder why…”
It’s the knowing smirk that does it. You move to undress him first, intriguing him. He didn’t expect you to be so bold right out of the gate. But, you have an on-screen persona of your own. Now both of your characters are out to play.
In your dwindling patience, you come close to just ripping the shirt off when you fumble with one of the buttons. San finds your lips again as you push the offending fabric off of him, eager to explore his newly exposed body. But you’re next.
Both of his hands lift up your shirt until it comes off over your head, forcing you two to break apart for a moment. Neither of you wait to make up for that lost time. You drape your arms around his shoulders, one of your hands lightly tugging at the roots of his hair. At first, your whole body erupts in goosebumps from the cold air now hitting your upper body as well, and not just your arms, but you can’t blame your reaction entirely on the temperature.
San must notice how your shoulders hunch a little and how you press further into him, because he is quick to warm you up.
One arm around your waist, he pulls you closer, chests touching. The first brush of your peaked nipples against his skin makes you gasp into his mouth. He nips at your bottom lip, distracting you while his hand moves from the back of your head, down to one of your breasts. His thumb flicks over the sensitive bud there and you have to duck your head down to catch your breath for a second. You grind down onto him again, adding to your arousal tenfold.
Refusing to prolong this any longer, San suddenly flips you onto the bed, underneath him. His hand returns between your legs, fingers shallowly dipping into your entrance and circling your clit. He keeps just out of your reach, his lips so frustratingly close to yours. You glance down to watch him. The visual of his hand disappearing underneath your skirt, the veins in his arm beginning to rise and pop, and the heat of his body against yours is all starting to add up.
You tug at your own skirt, looking up at him with doe eyes. He nods twice, understanding. In no time at all, your skirt is unzipped and pulled down your legs, discarded somewhere onto the floor.
Now fully exposed, San pauses.
The tempo of the scene slows abruptly as he takes his time to look at your body, laying so prettily beneath him. He looks at your body like he’s deciding where to start first, with too many enticing options. You drag your hands down his chest, lightly scratching him and making him shiver in the process. This, you realize, is how he makes every scene feel legit. He takes his time to admire his partner, make them feel admired and wanted. You have to admit, it does work its magic. Not just for the audience, but for you as well.
He catches both of your wrists, bringing your hands together to kiss them both before guiding them down above your head.
“Keep them here,” he murmurs, kissing you once more.
You barely have time to enjoy or savor the taste of him again before he moves to kiss your neck. Eyes closing, you sigh into the feeling, wanting to commit this to memory. He doesn’t stay in one place for long, moving down to kiss your chest next. Soft, wet warmth once again wraps around your nipple and you arch your back to try and get more of it. You twist your hands in the sheets above you, keeping them anchored there just like he instructed.
San then moves further down, ghosting his lips past your stomach. You part your legs to accommodate him, and he kneels on the floor, gently pushing your legs further apart. He drags this out, just to torture you, you think. His intentions and what he’s about to do are clear, but he’s a professional at driving his partners crazy. The kisses turn to licks, right next to your labia. So tantalizingly close.
If your eyes were open, you’d see that he’s been watching you the entire time, trying to pace himself as best he can. You’re actually lucky there’s a job to do here because if it was just the two of you alone, he doesn’t think he’d be holding himself back from just taking what he wants.
To him, this is all just a chance for him to prove himself to you. To him, you’re the star. And he’s going to make sure you leave this set more than satisfied. Wanting for nothing.
But he’s not going to start until you beg him to.
His breath fans across your wet lower lips and your hands find his hair again, trying to push his mouth where you need him. You hear him laugh, exhaling through his nose before moving your hands away.
“Thought I told you to keep your hands up there, kitten,” he reminds you, with a slight warning edge to his voice.
Oh, shit, you realize all too late. The last video flashes through your mind, and he feels you tense up. He kisses your hipbone to calm you down.
“Be a good girl and keep them above your head,” he repeats his previous order.
You nod quickly, “I’m sorry–” but he cuts you off by licking a thick wet stripe through your folds. Your breath hitches, and your hands stay cemented to the sheets, to hold on for dear life.
When he repeats the action, the tip of his tongue flicks at your clit, making you see stars already.
“Oh my god…” you moan, eyes fluttering shut again.
Your hands itch to move back down to his hair, wanting to pull him closer and to push him away. You want to touch him again, but the fear of him reenacting the ‘Fantasy’ video keeps you frozen.
As expected, his mouth is just as perfect as the rest of him. The softness of his lips against your core only stokes the dull heat in your lower stomach. He alternates between focusing more on your clit, and dipping his tongue into your entrance. The most addicting part is that he’s moaning while he eats you out, like the taste of you is getting him off. You hope he lets you return the favor.
He readjusts his hands on your thighs when they threaten to close around his head, opting to push them back towards your chest. Your toes curl as he sucks your clit hard, and you can’t help the high-pitched sound that escapes your mouth. He does it again, and again, getting you louder each time.
“Look at me, baby,” he breathes, his nose brushing up against your sensitive clit as he speaks.
You whimper as you lift your head up, resting on your elbows to not strain your neck. He meets your eyes for just a second before shoving his tongue into your hole, rubbing his nose against your clit again. You cry out, throwing your head back as the pleasure increases and squirm in his strong grip. Legs shaking and breath uneven, it’s clear that you’re close. Now you’ll get to see what he has planned for you. The two boxes you checked off, ‘Rough’, and ‘Gentle’ come back to haunt you.
A moan cuts you off as you try to warn him that you’re close, but he can tell without needing to hear you say it. He’s been the cause of enough female orgasms to see the warning signs of one approaching. Two of his fingers suddenly dip into you as he sucks on your clit, hooking deep inside and prodding your g-spot over and over again.
His voice is rough and gravelly against your pussy, “Cum for me, baby. Wanna taste it.”
A bolt of electricity runs through you as you cum, shaking and moaning while it gradually subsides. The heat in your lower stomach cools off but stays simmering now, waiting to be rekindled again. You whimper, raising your head back up to look at him. He’s in his own world between your legs, gently licking your pussy and your inner thighs clean. Your core clenches around his fingers when he slowly starts to drag them out, and he smirks. He lowers your legs back down, kissing your knee and doing a quick check to make sure you’re okay to continue.
You answer that check by sitting up and pulling him towards you, kissing him even more hungrily than before. He hasn’t even wiped his mouth yet, but you don’t care. Without breaking the kiss, he follows you back down onto the bed, sucking on your tongue and wrapping a hand around your throat. Not tight enough to restrict airflow, but just enough to make your head feel light. He grinds his still-clothed erection into you, and the friction makes your head spin. You don’t know if you’re allowed to move your hands or not, but you just want to touch him so badly. You want to grip his length, make him feel just as good, taste him too.
For now, you just roll your hips up into his, moaning into his mouth.
“Want it…want you,” you mumble, parting from his lips for just a second to tell him that.
San hums, lazily kissing your jaw. “What do you want, kitten? Be specific.”
You groan inwardly, but you know he has to prolong this a little. Damn… for a while, you forgot about the reason you’re currently underneath him. You sneak a glance over to your left, seeing where the set ceiling abruptly stops and opens up to the industrial interior of the Afterdark building. He notices your focus straying, and he’s quick to act.
“Tell me,” San redirects you, blocking your view by kissing the left side of your neck and distracting you from everything else by keeping his hard-on pressed right up against your bare pussy. His voice is firmer. A small warning and reminder of rule number five.
You take a deep breath before you voice what you want, “Wanna suck your cock… please, sir.”
It’s the ‘sir’ that nearly kills him. You really have done your research, haven’t you? You know that’s what he likes to be called, especially when his scene partners are feeling extra submissive to him. Are you feeling that way already? Maybe you just really want to do this for him. San studies you for a second, confirming the latter. He can see how much you actually mean it by the way you look up at him, pleading with your eyes.
And who is he to deny you? Especially when you ask so nicely. Plus, he’s been wanting to feel your mouth wrap around his cock since he watched your livestream.
“Yeah?” He asks, biting the space where your neck meets your shoulder and pressing up against you again.
You give him your best doe-eyed look, really tapping into your innocent act. “Yes, sir.”
San helps you sit upright again and stands at the foot of the bed, starting to undo his belt. Wanting to be an active participant, you lean forward, dragging your lips down and across his abs, occasionally licking at his soft, honeyed skin. His belt hits the floor, and your hands are quick to do the rest. It’s a little hard to get the zipper down, but you manage it, successfully removing his pants. You’re just about to deal with his underwear next, but he grabs your wrist, pulling you towards him. You stumble a little as you find your footing on the floor, and let him lead you over to a chair against the set wall. It’s a better angle for the cameras, you assume. For him, he just wants to watch you do this properly. He wants nothing to obstruct his view, or the camera’s.
San pushes his hair back as you drag the final piece of clothing away from his body. You avert your eyes until the very last second, tossing the garment off to the side to join the sad little pile of discarded clothes on the floor. Now you take your time, pressing a kiss to his knee, slowly rising up onto yours the further up you move. You hear his breath shift, and you finally glance up to face his cock.
Somehow, it’s bigger than it looks on camera.
You have no idea how that’s possible – you know about the fish eye lenses and tricks the porn industry will use to make someone’s dick look bigger than it is, but right now, you’re presented with the exact opposite. It’s larger in real life. This, you were not expecting, but it is such a pleasant and welcome surprise. And of course, it’s just as pretty as the rest of him.
Both of these things combined only make you want to put your mouth on it even more.
When you delicately wrap your hand around it, he hisses at the long-awaited contact. A hand tangles into your hair, not pulling you towards him, just resting there for now. San leans back against the chair, his toned body a feast for the cameras and for you. You remind yourself not to rush, and to savor this.
Wanting to give him a taste of his own medicine, you tease him a little by ghosting your lips up his length, watching him shiver and bite his lip. You kiss the tip, and linger there for a second, acting like you’re about to put him in your mouth, only to move away, kissing his hipbone next and stroking him with your hand.
His grip tightens in your hair. Knowing he wants you to hurry up, you let go of him for a moment to spit in your hand before quickly returning to it. He groans a bit louder, head falling back a little as you gently twist your wrist, squeezing at the base of his cock.
Finally, you lick him from the base to the head before wrapping your lips around him. His other hand balls up into a fist, but that’s the only reaction he gives away for now. You relax your jaw as much as you can, trying to accommodate his size before sinking down lower. You can taste his pre-cum in the back of your throat, coating your tongue.
If you were annoyed with his apparent perfection before, you’re pissed now. How does he also taste good too?
As if to get back at him somehow, you wrap your lips tighter around his cock and suck hard, which earns you a choked moan from him. You hum around him, amused and pleased with yourself. His hand shakes slightly as he pushes your hair back, the other one in your hair starting to guide you even further down. The tip hits the back of your throat and you gag on it, forcing yourself to relax and remember to breathe through your nose.
“Fuck, baby…so good,” He groans, starting to struggle to keep his eyes open.
The visual of you choking on his cock is better than he could’ve ever imagined it to be. You don’t try to fight against him when he pushes you down or pulls you back up, simply letting him use your throat as he wishes. Even though you’re gagging and your eyes are watering, you don’t try to pull off. Not even when he shoves you down, making you fit his entire length into your throat, and holds you there for ten seconds. The longest ten seconds of your life. Your nails dig into your thighs, creating angry red crescent-shaped indents in your skin. His cock twitches in your throat and you whimper, keeping your gag reflex at bay. When the ten seconds are up, he lets you pull off of him completely to catch your breath.
You cough into your shoulder, one of your hands wrapping around him again to make sure he still feels good. San can't help but praise you, leaning down to kiss your forehead, cupping your face with his hand to make you look at him. It’s a subtle check-in moment. Nothing between you is said out loud, but he searches your face for any signs of discomfort or stress of any kind. He’s rather relieved to find none, only your glossy eyes staring back at him, lips parted and breath heavier than before. Ready to go again or continue on.
Whatever he wants.
San shivers as you gently twist your wrist again, returning your lips to the head of his dick, kitten-licking the pre-cum that still leaks out there. You hope he’ll cum in your mouth. A rare hope, as you’ve never quite enjoyed the taste of it before, but with his track record so far, you’re willing to bet you’ll enjoy it this time. To encourage this dream to happen, you spit onto the head of his cock twice, collecting some of it with your hand already around his length, and the rest with your mouth, swirling your tongue around the tip.
You hear soft footsteps behind you, and naturally, your first instinct is to whip around to see who it is. Luckily, your conscience kicks in, reminding you of where you are, and you’re able to stop yourself before you can even move an inch. It’s probably one of the crew leaving the set, you figure. But it sounds close by.
As if to prove you right, soon there’s a figure or a shadow looming just out of your peripheral vision on your left, holding something. To combat every urge within you to turn around, you close your eyes and steal another kiss from San, who lazily kisses you back. He doesn’t seem to mind that your lips are covered in spit and pre-cum. Not one bit. His groans have increased the more you stroke his cock, one of his hands grips the arm of the chair in an attempt to ground himself. Harder, faster, your wrist begins to burn from exertion, but determination keeps it going. You’ll get a damn brace if you need to.
“God–” he grunts, looking down at your hand.
“Want you to cum too,” you say, looking up at him, almost pleading.
San’s eyes squeeze shut for just a moment, a full body shudder wracking through him before he is able to compose himself again.
“And where do you want me to cum, kitten?” He asks, his volume raising slightly, caressing your cheek.
“In my mouth, sir.” You reply, also loud enough for the microphones to pick up.
He all but shoves you down. You barely have time to make sure your teeth aren’t grazing his dick with every bob of your head as his hand returns to your hair, guiding your movements once again. This time, with just a fraction less of his notorious self control. You’re able to keep up easily, sucking harder whenever you’re closer to the head of it, and using your tongue as much as you can.
San swears under his breath, hissing at your previously unknown skill level. It takes every ounce of composure to not fuck your throat the way he wants to. He’d be so mean to you if you’d let him. He wouldn’t have kept himself down your throat for ten measly seconds, it would’ve been until you tried to push yourself off, desperate to breathe again. That would’ve been heavenly, to feel your throat constrict around his cock, in search of air. But not for the first scene together.
If there’s a next time, maybe that’s when he’ll let go just a little more. Show that side of him and see how you cope with it. For now though, he’s content to just enjoy the sight of you taking him in your mouth, wanting to make him cum. And you’re damn near close to achieving that.
He ignores the cameraman standing barely two feet from you, and leans back again, relaxing his body as his dick twitches incessantly in your mouth. Every time his tip hits the back of your throat, sparks of electricity shoot up his spine.
“Fuck… ah, fuck, I’m gonna cum… mmf–” San moans, head tilting back against the chair.
You don’t change anything about what you’re doing, just continuing until finally, he releases into your mouth. Just like you wanted him to. And it’s just as you predicted. The taste of it makes you want him to cum in your mouth again and again, surprisingly pleasant. Slightly bitter, yes, but not overly so. You swallow around him, not pulling off just yet. You won’t until you suck him dry, until he pushes you off from overstimulation. Maybe subconsciously, it’s because you know he loves to overstimulate his scene partners – a subtle payback for all of them. You try to hide your grin as you finally release him. Not a single drop wasted. You swallowed everything.
San looks down at you through half-lidded eyes, fighting to keep his chest rising and falling in a steadier rhythm. You lick your lips just for good measure, and he snaps.
His hands return to your face and the back of your head, pulling you towards him to kiss you deeply. You moan into his mouth as his tongue slips into yours, not caring in the slightest that can taste himself. As you straighten up on your knees, you can feel how wet you still are, and you can’t help but be a little surprised. You’ve never gotten wet from sucking dick before. If he finds out, it’ll go right to his ego, no doubt.
But before he can, there’s an abrupt, loud clacking sound to your left, and at first, you think someone must have dropped something. San makes a quiet, irritated sound before pulling away, glancing towards the director. The cameraman right next to you moves away, going back over towards the others and adjusting something on his camera. You feel slow to catch up on what’s happening, looking back up at San for help.
“We’re breaking for a second,” he explains, still out of breath.
Ah.
“Are you alright?” You ask him, without thinking. You’re not even sure why you asked that.
San blinks, processing your question as well before nodding once, “Yeah… yeah, I’m good.”
There’s a fleeting moment between you that you can’t describe. Something deeper than the scene now that you’re out of it. It’s the way he’s looking at you, void of any facade or persona meant for the cameras. Almost like he’s curious about something.
No one ever really asks him if he’s alright.
Just as quickly as the moment appears, it’s gone. You hear a flurry of movement and murmured conversations on your left as you sink back onto your heels, processing everything. Your eyes close as you try to focus on your breathing now that nothing is blocking your throat, deep inhales and slow exhales.
“You okay?” San asks as well, eyebrows furrowing in what appears to be genuine concern.
“‘M okay… honest.” You nod as you speak to emphasize that you’re truly alright. One more prolonged exhale, and you roll your shoulders back, heart-rate decelerating back to its default speed. One of your hands reaches up to massage your aching jaw.
Opening your eyes again, you accidentally make eye contact directly to his cock, still right in front of your face. It’s laying against his stomach, still slightly twitching, but… not softening. At least not as much as you’d expect it to. Surely, he can’t still be hard after coming. However, at this point, you wouldn’t put it past him to have a practically nonexistent refractory period. Might as well tack it onto the list of things he has been blessed with in life.
San runs a hand through his hair, looking over towards someone who must be talking to him. You watch his eyes follow them until you see for yourself who it is – one of the assistants that had been in his little circle when he first walked out of his dressing room. He hands him a robe, and quickly walks off. You feel a small nudge at your shoulder and find one of the other assistants – the one that had handed you the blanket earlier – extending a robe towards you. You take it gladly, your body heat crashing down again now that nothing is happening, and the frigid air conditioning reminding you why you asked for a blanket in the first place. He also gives you a water bottle with a straw poked through the plastic cap, and you drink it down gratefully.
Director Choi calls over Youngmi and Rina, and they’re quickly by your side, touching up your hair and makeup. You scoot back a little on the floor, giving San some space as his own team descends around him. Still, through the quiet rush of activity separating the two of you, your eyes stay glued to him.
Once the four hair and makeup girls leave, you hear Hongjoong from somewhere behind you. You both look towards his voice, standing near the director. A young woman you haven’t seen milling around the set before stands right next to him, also in a short silk robe almost identical to yours from what you can see of it past the lights. Your chest burns. She’s gorgeous, and seems to only get prettier the more you look at her. She looks between Hongjoong and San expectantly, as if waiting for a regular cue. Totally relaxed. You look back down at your hands in your lap, toying with the hem of your robe. It’s obvious what she’s there for. You wonder if she’s been watching the whole time as well.
But San is quick to rid you of any worries.
Actually, he seems a little annoyed as he waves Hongjoong and the woman off, before turning his attention back to you. He helps you stand up, slowly to ensure you won’t get dizzy, and leads you back over to sit on the foot of the bed. Back where you started, in your own little bubble together in front of the lights and the cameras.
Once settled again, San tilts your head up, his pointer finger under your chin, and holds it there, effectively disrupting your train of thought. He can almost see the self-doubt threatening to cloud your mind, even if you try to hide it behind your on-camera mask. He simply won’t have it. His other hand cups your cheek, making sure you don’t try to look anywhere but at him right now.
“‘M still hard for you, kitten,” he says quietly, just for you. He moves closer, his thumb running over your bottom lip. “Made me feel so fucking good… doing so well…”
You can’t help but blush at his praise. He’s so attentive, it’s a little shocking. You expected him to be, due to the videos you watched, but off-camera as well?
To thank him, you wrap your lips around his thumb, sucking on it lightly, maintaining eye contact with him the whole time. You want him to snap again. To just fuck you stupid already, to not wait for the production team to be ready. God, you just want to stop thinking and overthinking. You lean into the hand holding your cheek, humming at the comfort it provides.
One of your hands wanders between you, trailing up his thigh. You want to feel it for yourself, even though the robe does little to conceal the truth in his statement. Nevertheless, your confidence is rekindled once more when you feel him through the silk, hard and ready for you. He hisses at the contact, resting his forehead against yours for a moment or two before straightening again. A low groan from him makes your thighs clench together.
“Sorry, sir,” you whisper, grinning mischievously now that you’re the one teasing him.
San laughs once, breathy and short.
“You really have done your research on me, huh?” He smirks, watching you slowly move his robe aside to touch him properly. He tenses a little at the initial contact, but gradually relaxes again as his body gets used to it.
You shrug, playing it cool. “Wanted to see what I was getting myself into,” the corners of your mouth twitch as you slowly stroke his cock, watching for his reactions.
“And–” he clears his throat before continuing, “what do you think so far?”
Your eyes flicker up to meet his, and you’re taken aback again by his genuineness. He’s not just asking to ask or to boost a sky-high ego, he really does want to know. Still, you want to keep him intrigued. Maybe you even want him to try and prove himself to you a bit.
“Well… I’m still wet for you,” you admit, casting your eyes down towards your lap. “But I think I’ll give you a final verdict later.”
San hums, remembering the taste of you, and how wet you were for him to start. His eyes trail downwards, towards your chest, which is slowly becoming more and more revealed as your robe loosens.
“Deal,” he whispers, slowly leaning in to kiss you.
Before he can though, you squeeze his member a little harder, your thumb circling the tip, making his mind nearly go blank. San shudders and leans back on his hands, his robe also loosening little by little, revealing his chest and the top of his abs to your hungry eyes again. He steals a quick glance over to the crew, before just taking matters into his own hands.
As soon as his robe comes off, he tosses it in the camera’s direction. A rather obvious way of telling everyone the break is over. Director Choi quickly stands from his chair, shooing away a production assistant and waving another one over to collect the robes. You take yours off as well, tossing it onto his, and San eases you down onto your back, kissing you just as deeply as before.
You shiver, finally underneath him once more. The promise of what’s to come thunders through your mind. He slots his knee in between your legs, keeping you open for him. You whine into his mouth when that knee raises slightly, pressing against your pussy. You can almost hear his smirk, confirming that you are indeed still wet for him.
Well, he won’t make you wait any longer.
And just in time too, because someone over on the left shouts, ‘Action!’. You feel kind of bad for stressing out the crew this much, but you can’t dwell on those guilty feelings when San is rubbing your clit again.
“Fuck… please…” you whimper, hips grinding up in search of something else.
San moans, working himself up as he feels your pussy slicking all over his knee.
“Are they gonna stop us again?” You ask, whispering in his ear.
“They better fucking not,” San breathes, pressing one more kiss to your cheek before pushing himself up, spreading your legs further apart so he can kneel between them.
You prop yourself up on your elbows again, intent on watching. You clench around nothing as he grips himself, angling his dick down towards your pussy. Every muscle in your body locks in anticipation and impatience. Your brain goes haywire just at the sight of his cock near where you need him most, knowing he’ll stretch you out, and knowing that you probably won’t last too long with his size. Hopefully, you won’t cum as soon as he bottoms out.
San presses the tip to your hole, and you hold your breath. It’s so big, but you’re ready. You’re definitely wet enough to help get him inside without any help from spit or lube. Nevertheless, he spits right on your clit, pausing to make you feel it drip down through your folds. He taps the head of his cock against your clit a couple times, greedily watching your reactions.
And much to your despair, he doesn’t push inside just yet. Instead, he drags his cock up and down your pussy. Slowly. Forcing you to feel every inch of it, just not where you need it. Your clit is so sensitive, every time he rubs up against it, you can’t help but whine pathetically.
San hums, mocking you. “Hm? What’s wrong, kitten?”
“Please fuck me already,” you exhale, whimpering at yet another tap of his cock against your clit.
“Louder,” he instructs, not just to make you beg for it again, but also so the microphones pick it up. You’d forgotten all about them again, to be honest. “Ask me properly.”
Another shiver runs through you, and you gasp when you feel the head of his cock return to your entrance. Just barely enough so you can feel it’s there. But it’s enough motivation. You spread your legs further apart to convince him, holding them up and back by hooking your arms around your knees. Fully exposed to his eyes, open and ready to be filled.
“Please, sir, please fuck me. Want it so ba–”
Your voice is cut off by a choked noise as he finally pushes into you. Quickly, you look down, watching him breach you. All of your air is punched out of you as he stretches you out, sinking deeper and deeper, inch by inch. He takes over the task of keeping your legs apart, and he stills for a second to give your body time to adjust to him. He’s just barely halfway in, and your brain already feels like mush.
Maybe it’s a good thing because the same cameraman from before comes back, aiming the camera right at you two. Your body is so tense from the intrusion that you can’t look towards him, even by accident.
San swears under his breath, watching his cock disappearing into you as well.
“So fucking tight… god, baby…” he grunts, adjusting his knees slightly closer to your ass so he can feed you more of his length.
One of his hands tilts your chin up again, silently telling you to hold eye contact with him. His eyes flicker down only for a split second.
Then he shoves the rest of his cock inside.
A mix of a gasp and a yelp punches its way out of you. Your whole body is like a livewire. Alert, teetering on an electric edge. Your hands grip the sheets next to you, biting your lip. You can feel everything. Every inch, every vein dragging against your walls when he slowly pulls it back again. You both crave and dread the next time he pushes in, knowing it’s going to feel so overwhelmingly good.
The realization hits you like a ton of bricks. You’re close to coming already.
Wide-eyed, all you can do is stare up at him as he rolls his hips into yours. Your walls flutter around him, legs already beginning to shake. There’s no hiding it anymore.
Amused, San leans down, pushing your legs back even more, deepening the stretch. He groans as your pussy contracts around him tight, wanting more.
“What, kitten? Already?” San smirks, a windfall of pride rushing through him. As if he needed any more validation for how good at this he is.
Your face burns, having been found out.
The next roll of his hips is sinfully languid, taking his time. Then, he really betrays you. One of his hands leaves the back of your thigh and he uses his thumb to rub your clit. You yelp, body buzzing from pleasure, and he takes this time to start fucking you properly, thrusting into you in a steady rhythm.
“Mm, that’s it,” he says, twisting his wrist so he can rub your clit with two fingers instead. “Let me feel it.”
You’re starting to think all you need in order to cum is for him to tell you to do it. Your second orgasm of the evening is a bit stronger than the first one because of the addition of penetration. It makes you feel very floaty once it hits, clenching around his cock in order to prolong it.
Unlike last time, he gives you no recovery period. The second he sees your eyes refocus, he’s fucking into you again. Like he never stopped. Your hands grip his shoulders, knowing you’re in for it. The tags for this future video flash through your mind, overstimulation being one. You lay flat on your back now, unable to keep holding yourself up as another strong wave of pleasure crashes into you. A third orgasm building up again.
His fingers on your clit press down harder, making tight circles over the sensitive bud. He only relents for a second, just to hook your legs over his shoulders, letting him get even deeper inside of you. Your eyes roll back for a moment, whining at the feeling. Your hands try to push at his chest, to make him stop, to make him straighten up, you’re not entirely sure yourself.
There’s no energy behind your actions, but San still subtly checks in. “Feel good, kitten?”
You choke on another moan, his cock getting dangerously close to hitting your g-spot. “Mm- I’m– good, feels s-so good.”
“Yeah? You liked coming on my cock?”
“Yes…”
“Yes, what?” San punctuates his question by ramming into you hard, unexpectedly.
You’re quick to correct yourself, “Y-yes, sir!”
“There you go,” he brushes some hair away from your face, “my good girl.”
Your body melts at the praise, replaying it over and over again as the feeling builds up higher and higher. You don’t realize until San winces that your nails started to dig into his chest, leaving some red scratch marks in your wake. As soon as you see that, you instantly take your hands away, feeling so bad that you’ve hurt him unknowingly.
But he puts them right back where they were.
And he leans down to your neck to return the favor, biting and sucking the skin there to create dark red and purple bruises wherever he can. His thrusts become more powerful, angling down into you to make you see stars. The simmering heat in your stomach is stoked with each direct hit to your g-spot. It’s getting to be more of a challenge to breathe normally like this.
Especially as your third orgasm begins to crest.
“‘M coming–” you warn him, but he knows already. He can feel it.
He hovers over you, moving his hips precisely and slightly faster. He wants to watch you again. To see you fall apart for him again. Truthfully, he already feels a bit pussy-drunk. Starting to get addicted to the feeling of your warm, wet cunt wrapped so tightly around him, coming for him so prettily. And you don’t disappoint him the third time either.
You’re loud this time, unable to control your volume. The third orgasm hits you like a truck, and it only builds higher and higher instead of gradually diminishing. You cry out, halfway through it. Something feels unfinished about it, and you’re desperate to chase it. Luckily, San knows exactly what you need.
He quickly lowers your legs from his shoulders, jumping right into action to catch this. Your legs are held back, like the previous position they were in, and he returns his other hand to your lower stomach, pressing down hard. You can feel him moving inside of you. Your head falls back and you moan loudly, suddenly feeling everything tenfold.
The sound is obscene, definitely pornographic. Wet, sloshing sounds, accompanied by your loud cries and moans fill the warehouse-like room of the eighth floor. His cock prods your g-spot every single time, building something insanely powerful that you’ve never felt before. You grab his wrist, looking up at him with slight fear in your eyes, but he doesn’t seem concerned. He’s determined, if anything.
“Good girl,” he purrs, so affectionately it makes your brain melt.
He adjusts his hand on your stomach just a little further down. At the same time that you feel him rubbing your clit again, he ducks down to suck on one of your nipples, and fireworks explode behind your eyelids. The quadruple stimulation makes you scream.
“Gonna make a mess for me, kitten? Yeah? Gonna cum all over my cock again?”
You don’t even have time to nod or reply in any way. A strong surge of pleasure smashes into you from all sides, whiting out your vision. It’s a feeling of release unlike any other that you’ve felt before, much harder than any orgasm you’ve ever had. He keeps fucking you through it until your pussy forces him out, watching your body shake uncontrollably underneath him, soaking the sheets below you, and his lower body. Now you know damn well what kind of ‘rough’ you’ll be getting from him: overstimulation. Making you cum until you beg him to stop.
San growls at the sight. It burns into his brain, and he can already say for certain that he’ll be jerking off to the memory of this later tonight and for days to come.
Just to prolong it, he taps his heavy cock against your pussy and clit again, enjoying how you try to squirm away from it.
You’re so wet, it’s audible. Every tap is loud, and a thin, stringy mixture of his spit and your slick clings to him for as long as it can whenever he pulls away. You reach for him, not knowing exactly what you want, but knowing you want him closer to you, and he obliges. He leans down over you again, slowly sliding his length between your puffy, wet folds.
A familiar, faint voice from the left is ignored totally by you and him, too busy coming down from the most intense high of your life, and him holding you through it.
An aftershock rattles you from head to toe, and you gasp when you feel it. The intense pleasure you felt gives way to sudden emptiness, and you realize you do not have anything to clench down on anymore. Though his dick is right there, dragging up and down your outer lips, it feels so far away from where you actually want it.
Thankfully, sensing your dilemma – and hearing you whine for it – he doesn’t make you wait any longer. In your post-orgasmic haze, he guides you over onto all fours, now facing the foot of the bed. Ever the gentleman, he moves your hair out of your face. However, you imagine it’s so the camera can see your fucked out, dazed expression.
His cock slips back inside of you easily, without any resistance, and the two of you groan in unison. In both relief and pleasure.
That familiar, faint voice comes back. Clearer this time, and closer as well. “San… San! We’re taking another break now.”
San kisses your shoulder blade, barely paying attention. “Okay, have fun,” he brushes the voice off, impatiently.
You’d laugh if you had any coherent thoughts or spare energy left. No, you’re a bit preoccupied at the moment, your body trembling around his cock, and so happy that he’s pushed back into you. Truthfully, you don’t even care if you’re stressing out the crew anymore. All of your thoughts are about San.
San smooths a hand up your spine, slowly pushing inch by inch into your soaked hole. He shushes you gently when you whimper, interlacing his fingers with yours when you try to reach back to find his hand to hold.
“I know, kitten, it’s okay. Just relax.”
Easier said than done.
He lightly presses your lower back, signalling you to arch it for him a little more. You nearly regret it when you feel him deeper than before in this position. Your elbows threaten to buckle, body shaking like a leaf. Yet, you still want more. Even though you’re nearing a certain point, wavering between overexertion and exhaustion, you crave more. You want to chase that feeling with him again. Make him glad he asked you to come here. Make him come back for more. So, you grit your teeth and keep yourself from face-planting into the mattress. For now, at least.
San’s powerful pace resumes in no time, stealing every breath from your lungs. Another vague, quiet plea falls from your lips, and in response, he squeezes your hips, pulling them back to meet every thrust. Your throat is raw from all the noise you’re making, and you know you’ll have to drink some tea or honey tonight to get your voice back to normal. Not this thin, broken voice you have now. Your lower back aches from staying in this position, but you do your best to ignore it.
It helps that his cock is basically in your stomach, that does a lot to distract you from a mere ache in your back. It also helps that your pussy is extra sensitive, coming three times – twice in a row without a break – and squirting for the first time. On camera, no less. Your viewers are going to lose their fucking minds. The image of your donation box on your livestreams, and your Venmo accounts skyrocketing after this video releases is motivation enough for you to want him to make you do it again.
Your back arches even more, hips grinding back against his to get more of him somehow.
Such a little natural.
“Mmm, there you go. That’s it. Keep fucking yourself on my cock, pretty girl.”
You make a noise, halfway between a whine and a moan and do as he says. Your chest grazes the sheets below you, chin buried into the mattress and arms gripping the edge of the bed in front of you.
“Fuck,” you whimper, a couple of stray tears threatening to fall. “You’re s-so fucking deep.”
San groans, increasing the pace. You yelp when you feel him smack your ass, and again when he hits it a second and third time. By the time the third strike lands, he doesn’t even give you any time to process the stinging pain he’s left behind before there’s a new one on the back of your head.
Slightly dizzy, it takes you a second to realize you’re upright, on your knees. One hand tangled in your hair, pulling at the roots, and the other rubbing incessant circles on your swollen clit. His chest presses into your back, and he moves your head to face him so he can kiss you again. Mind threatening to wipe completely, you can’t fight to hold back your tears anymore. You shudder violently, and he groans as he feels your body struggle to keep up with him. He knows you can take it, though. You’re a fighter, he can tell.
“Doing so well,” he whispers in your ear, “such a good girl for me, baby. Knew you would be. Knew I’d get this pussy to fall apart on my dick. Thought about it so fucking much…”
You whine against his mouth, tears wetting his face now as well. The blatant admission that he had thought about you like this before today goes straight over your head.
All you hear is his praise. You’re doing well. Good enough for him, like you were so stressed about being. Nothing else matters to you anymore, now that you’ve earned his approval. A proud smile creeps across your face, and he grins at the faraway look in your half-lidded eyes. You’re so far gone. Completely pleasure-drunk.
The hand in your hair tightens again and loosens, like it’s an afterthought now. Just something for him to hold onto. To keep you steady, if anything. Warm pressure building and building again in your stomach, you round your back as another shiver wracks its way through your body, making your spine tingle. His hand moves down to hold you by the back of the neck, and he slows his pace just enough to guide you back down onto the bed. This time, totally flat. Your pussy forces him out at this new position, but his other hand is quick to spread one of your ass cheeks apart, cock sliding back inside of you.
He doesn’t ease you into his pace anymore. The first brutal thrust makes your eyes roll back, and your jaw falls open. Your nails claw at the bedding, every muscle in your arms straining while you hold onto the fabric for dear life.
He’s so fucking deep. Impossibly, almost.
He may just make you cum like this, without even needing to touch your clit. He’s making you learn so much about what your body can do when in the right hands. No wonder people are so obsessed with him. He’s become so in tune with your body so quickly, just by paying explicit attention to you this whole time. It makes you really appreciate his expertise, because he could easily have just used what has worked for other girls in the past. He probably could’ve made you cum like that as well, but he tailors himself for each girl. Adapts for them. For you.
And he’s learning you pretty well. Probably read you like a fucking book.
Every precisely angled thrust punches a moan out from deep within your chest. Each sound is partly muffled by the bedding, and you try to keep quiet, not wanting to be annoying. You can’t help it, though. Not when it feels this good. Certainly not when another orgasm is building, more rapidly than the others.
You squirm under him, toes curling and nails digging into the mattress.
“I– mmf–! You’re… you’re gonna make me cum again,” you have to speak quickly before it hits you.
San leans over you, hands planted right next to your shoulders, fucking you harder. “Give it to me, pretty girl. I want every fucking drop.”
Someone dressed in all black stands right in front of you, pointing something towards you. It doesn’t register that it’s the camera guy with the handheld camera for a couple seconds. You imagine he’s zooming in, capturing everything. He must know the future audience does not want to miss a single second of how you react to coming again, and how San won’t let up on you once you do… again.
Your eyes shut tight once your fourth climax thunders through you. Pure ecstasy erupts in every vein. Euphoria clouds your brain. The sheets beneath you two become even more soaked, and you can feel your release dripping down your thighs. You must’ve been loud because your throat feels scratchy and rough all of a sudden, but your head is in such a rush that you don’t even hear anything.
San holds you by your throat now, making you keep your face up.
Just as you predicted, San doesn’t stop or slow his pace whatsoever. True to his promise that he’s ‘gonna make you feel so good’. Well, that promise is currently turning you into a limp, fucked out mess. You’ve never had this many orgasms so quick in succession before. It’s making your hormones go absolutely wild, and you cry harder, wetting San’s hand with your tears. The camera loves it.
There are some sounds near you that you can’t be bothered to discern, and you just lean into San’s hand on your throat. Fully intent on just letting him do whatever he wants to you at this point. He pretty much already is. Although, you’re not entirely sure how many more times you can cum without passing out. You hope he’ll stop before that happens. You don’t want to embarrass yourself like that.
San subtly taps your throat, getting your attention, before raising your head a little higher by the throat.
You blink stupidly up at the cameraman in front of you, eyes half-lidded and heavy, struggling to keep them open. You flinch a little when you see that there are two more people in front of you, the director included. When did everyone get so much closer to the bed? All of them, you notice, are at least semi-hard. Director Choi nods behind the camera, muttering inaudible praises. Your hands grip the sheets, knuckles turning white, and pull them up towards your mouth to muffle your screams. Out of frame, Director Choi motions for an assistant to pull the sheets down, ripping your comfort away, exposing how loud you’re being. Tears sting your eyes, both from exertion and from the intense pleasure San is giving you.
“Pussy’s so good… so tight and wet… could fuck you forever.”
Director Choi silently motions for San to keep talking like that.
San grunts, fighting to catch his breath enough to speak again. “Such a good girl… gonna make you cum again.”
And he does.
Before you even realize that it’s been simmering and building, it knocks into you sideways. This time, you can’t even scream. Your mouth drops open but no sound comes out due to your body locking up. San releases your throat, worried that you’re not breathing – and he’s right. He slows down considerably, moving your hair away from your face to check on you. Your body slowly relaxes again underneath him, one muscle at a time, and a low, guttural groan tears itself from your throat.
You can feel every inch of him dragging past your inner walls, and every slightest movement makes your pussy clench, trying to simultaneously push him out and suck him in further. Instead of continuing again, though, he pushes all the way into you one more time, and then stops.
It’s somehow both torture and a relief. You feel so fucking full, but he isn’t doing anything to continue the dull flames that engulf your lower stomach, and yet you know it’s better than being empty. He could pull out, leave you to deal with that emptiness before you felt ready. He doesn’t. Appreciative thoughts swirl around your head and you cry harder, trying to hide your tears in the sheets.
When the camera crew and director see that he’s not continuing, they call for another break. Everyone moves away, and there’s no longer a black cloud in front of you.
San doesn’t move an inch, though.
He brushes through your hair with his fingers, comforting you. He’s intent on waiting until you calm down, not wanting to push you too far before you’re ready. He knows he went a little crazy, instantly getting addicted to the feeling of you coming around his dick, and you deserve a break. As long as you need.
But you’re addicted yourself. A real glutton for the pleasure he’s given you thus far. You push back and wiggle against him, trying to get him to move again. His hands push you down by your hips, keeping them still. You whine at the denial, looking over your shoulder at him with teary, red eyes. He almost gives in.
“I know, baby. Just relax with me for a moment.”
You pout, another tear roaming down your cheek. Deep down, you know he’s right. Your body has been pleading for a break two orgasms ago. It’s high time you listen to it. You collapse, finally letting yourself relax, solely focusing on the quiet murmur of the crew off to the side, and San’s fingers running through your hair.
It’s a nice moment.
Nicer still when San litters your shoulders and back with gentle kisses, helping you calm down. Clearer thoughts slowly begin to reenter your mind, and your breaths even out, relatively back to normal. Better than the mixture of shallow inhales, long periods of holding your breath, and gasps for air. Because of the improved air intake, your head finally feels like it’s stopped swimming. Little by little, your energy comes back.
You take a deep inhale, sighing contently as you exhale it back out. Looking behind you again, you catch him already watching you.
“Hi,” you mumble, half-smiling.
San smirks, his hand cupping your cheek. “Hey, pretty girl. Feel okay?”
You nod, humming, and you subtly push back against him. The feeling of his cock pressing into you doesn’t shock your body as much as it did before. Now it’s a welcome, familiar feeling. Sought after. You really are addicted. Maybe even insatiable when it comes to how well he fucks you.
With the other hand, he places a water bottle in front of your face, the same one with a straw poked through the cap from before. You don’t bother wondering where he got it from. You have a pretty good idea. They’re always everywhere during a break.
Once you’re done with the bottle, he places it against one of the pillows, where it will no doubt be collected by a production assistant within seconds.
You push back again, trying to get him to move. You hear him chuckle behind you.
“Greedy little thing, aren’t you?”
Instead of contradicting his statement, you just nod. Why lie?
“Wanna make you cum too,”
San hums, just barely rolling his hips into yours. “How do you wanna do that, kitten?”
You steel yourself for what you’re about to do. Hoping he will let you go through with your plan, you pull yourself away from him, and he slips out of you. The emptiness hits just as hard as you thought it would, and you whimper at the initial feeling. If all goes to plan, you won't be for long.
San watches you carefully as you turn to face him on the bed, gently pushing him back against the pillows. His hands instinctually rest on your hips as you straddle him, and he looks up at you, patiently waiting for your next move. At least, coming across as patient externally. You don’t miss how his dick twitches, eager to be engulfed by your warmth again. He must feel something equivalent to the emptiness you felt when you pulled away.
You’ll fix that gladly.
Out of the corner of your eye, you can see the crew start to come back to their spots – lights, camera, microphones. They must have learned not to stay too far away when it comes to filming you two. You do your best to hide your grin.
San helps you line up the head of his cock to your entrance, and you steady yourself with your hands on his shoulders as you slowly sink down. His eyes flutter shut, eyebrows furrowing as he exhales shakily. Following his lead, you don’t give him much time to adjust before you start moving.
You swear you hear him whimper. Just once, but you catch it nevertheless.
He keeps his eyes down, locked between you, watching your cunt swallow his dick over and over again. You bite your lip, nails digging into his shoulders as his hands become more firm on your hips. The next time you sink down, he pulls you down hard. You gasp, not expecting it, and he attacks your lips once again.
You kiss him back just as eagerly, increasing your pace. Your thighs already start to protest from the strain, but you can’t bring yourself to care or stop. Not when he’s moaning into your mouth like this. Every noise you pull out of him is pure music to your ears. A rhapsody you could hear a thousand times and not get bored of. You pull away from his lips just to hear him clearer, and he chases you. He nips your bottom lip, one of his hands slowly travelling up to knead one of your boobs again.
Breaths mingling, you shiver in his hold. His other hand dips down to rest on your ass, squeezing the flesh there as you bounce on his cock.
The heat of it all consumes you, drives you to get him to cum. You want to hear him. You want to repay him for making you cum four times, and put in just as much effort.
It’s a battle to try and ignore your own pleasure, building up for a fifth time. You’re not convinced you can cum again. However, now you’re willing to see what happens. If you faint, you faint.
You clench around him on purpose, grinding into him and rolling your hips, your gummy walls massaging his length and successfully driving him crazy. His head falls back against the headboard, and his fingers begin to leave bruises on your skin.
“So fucking good,” he hisses, “such a good girl… gonna make me cum so hard.”
The thought and image that accompanies it gives you a second wind of energy. Your hands move to his chest, and you press down as you continue to fuck him.
“Want you to cum inside me,” you beg him, hot breath hitting his neck. You feel him shudder underneath you.
San only nods, unable to speak. You lick a stripe up his neck, tasting the slight saltiness of his sweat and kissing the hinge of his jaw. Right next to his ear, you moan again, enjoying how he tenses up.
Suddenly, both of his arms are wrapped around your waist, and he sits up a little more. One of his hands presses into your upper back, supporting you as he starts fucking up into you, seamlessly matching your rhythm.
He lets out a choked moan, cutting it off by kissing you one more time before his eyes shut tight.
“Gonna cum…fuck, I’m gonna cum so deep inside you, kitten. Gonna feel me for days.”
You whine at his words, and he seems to have worked himself up further by saying it as well.
“Please, sir, need your cum inside of me. Please give it to me–”
San pushes you down onto your back before you can blink. Your legs wrap around him, and the pleasure increases for you almost instantaneously. When you look down, you swear you can see a slight bulge in your stomach. His lips attach to your neck, sucking and biting to muffle his moans as much as possible. Every sound he makes is so pretty.
He pounds into you without any more room for mercy, concentrating on coming again. And he can feel that you’re close again too.
“Cum with me,” he pants against your neck, “give me one more. Let me feel your pretty cunt cum on my cock one more time, baby.”
One more. You nod, eyelids growing heavy again. Everything is perfect in this moment. The feeling of his cock dragging against your walls, the head of it pressing against your g-spot and fanning the flames of your arousal until it engulfs you like wildfire; his soft, plush lips on your neck, his words in your ear, and his warm, firm skin under your hands.
As if that all wasn’t enough, San spits on his fingers and starts to rub your clit again.
Everything adds up to push you over the edge.
You cry out, body completely spent as you weakly squirt for him again. You can hear your heartbeat pounding in your ears, adrenaline and euphoria taking turns to run through your bloodstream. The sheets beneath you are completely soaked through. Every sense is both heightened and dulled. Exhaustion pulls itself over you like a weighted blanket.
And your climax triggers his.
True to his word, he comes deep inside of you, filling you up until it’s leaking. The additional warmth is comforting for a second, until your stomach begins to cramp a little bit. Not enough to hurt, but just enough for you to notice. You’re definitely not used to coming this much.
San shudders violently before dropping to his elbows, careful not to crush you under his weight. Both of you catch your breaths, chests heaving as you coax air back into your lungs. You tangle one of your hands in his hair, holding him close to you as you take this moment to settle down. He buries his face in your neck, small, audible sighs occasionally escaping him.
Unbeknownst to you, he’s never cum that hard before. Years of experience behind him, sure, he’s gotten close to this level, but never was able to reach it until now.
Reluctantly, he slowly drags himself out of your pussy, eyes immediately glancing down to see his cum leaking out. He smirks as he watches you fight to keep it inside, not wanting to let it go yet.
Then, like he does every single time, he ducks down to lick one more long, slow path up your pussy. Entrance to clit. A silent ‘thank you’. You whimper, legs closing when he pulls away.
“Cut! Print it.”
And he’s gone.
You feel you just got a violent slap back into reality.
What…just happened? You slowly push yourself up, with admittedly great difficulty.
Half of the staff flutter around you, while the others flock to San’s side, covering him up in his robe and starting to lead him towards his dressing room. The production assistants assigned to you don’t say much, handing you the same water bottle as before and urging you to drink it all. You watch the cameraman and the director talk, leisurely packing everything up. Just another day at the office. It’s all over just like that.
Meanwhile, you feel… stunned. Maybe even a little empty, and not just physically this time. You never thought about how aftercare is pretty much nonexistent in shoots like this. Everything is strictly business. Professional. Void of any emotion for the other ‘actor’. Still, as someone runs a brush through your messy hair, and someone else wraps a silk robe over your shoulders, you find that you cannot tear your gaze away from the direction of San’s dressing room door. Your eyes threaten to tear up, a dull yet powerful feeling of rejection blooming in your chest.
Maybe you aren’t cut out for this type of thing, no matter how many offers you receive. Not if this is how it ends, as if nothing happened. Like none of it mattered. Another notch in Choi San’s belt.
Director Choi suddenly appears in front of you, and you’re quick to act like nothing is wrong. “You did great,” he says, “thank you for your time today.”
You manage a fake smile and thank him as well, apologizing for any issues you may have caused by being impatient or loud.
He simply waves it off, “Happens more than you think. Have a good rest of your night, Miss Y/L/N. Maybe we’ll work together again in the future.”
‘Maybe’.
His words stick to you, gnawing at your skin like leeches. He truly didn’t mean to make you feel worse, you know that, and yet he really drove home just how… common you feel. Not special whatsoever after all.
You imagine going back home and going live again. The notorious four exclusive viewers will want to know how it went, and you’re going to have to tell them something. You doubt you’ll be able to lie. Woo will probably be able to tell something’s wrong.
Maybe, once this check hits, you can just disappear for the foreseeable future. If you’re astronomically lucky, everyone will forget it happened so you won’t have to relive the very tail end of it. You run a hand through your hair. You’re so fucking dramatic.
It hurts a little extra when even Hongjoong doesn't stick around to check in on you, tending to his star first and foremost. You can’t say you really blame him, though – that is his job. San should be his priority.
It’s just that you desperately wish for a friendly face, or someone to genuinely check in with you. Comfort you.
Not to be surrounded by strangers who won’t look you in the eye.
· · ─────── ·☆· ─────── · ·
You’re not sure what the plan is.
You don’t even know if he’s still here. But here you are, standing in front of his dressing room door like a fucking idiot. Another girl obsessed with him. Nothing new, just another number they’ll have to delete.
Even so, you want to try and talk to him. Ask him why the fuck he left in such a hurry. Your hands readjust their grip on your purse, with half a mind to swing it at whoever opens the door.
Gathering up all the courage imaginable, your hand raises in a fist, and you softly knock on the door three times.
To be honest, you’re not really expecting a response. Half of the staff are gone already, it’s unlikely that he’d want to stick around here any longer than he has to. When you checked the time on your phone in your dressing room, you were surprised to see that it’s already nearing nine o’clock. Your stomach had growled almost immediately upon seeing it. You look over your shoulder, watching the rest of the staff still here turning off some of the lights and gathering wires.
Distracted, you jump about a mile in the air when the door opens, revealing San, now also dressed and looking like he’s ready to leave. His eyebrows raise in surprise at the sight of you.
“Hey,” he says, so casually. “What’re you still doing here?”
Embarrassment hits you like a brick wall. Yep, just another girl on the callsheet that stuck around to beg him for more. Ugh.
“I’m sorry, I don’t want to bother you,” you say, already giving up on the whole idea of confronting him. Britney can’t help you now.
You start to turn on your heel, but he opens the door wider, stepping aside as if to invite you in. “No, no. Not bothering me. What’s up?”
Your mouth dries. Okay, now you got to follow through. But god… does he really not know? You wonder if this has never come up before. If all of the girls before you are just collectively tougher than you emotionally and can handle no aftercare, no follow up, nothing. You should be, too, honestly. You know what porn is and what it isn’t. It’s not exactly a dating service. Two hot people fuck each other and go their separate ways, money wired to them before their heads hit the pillow at night.
Still… you and Yeosang aren’t dating, and after your collab with him, he redressed you and cuddled you for an hour straight. He made sure you knew he wasn’t going anywhere, that the friendship is still intact. You weren’t being used.
You hesitate to step into his dressing room, and ultimately decide to just stay put. Stand your ground. You don’t want to take too long, you just need an answer.
Out with it.
“I was just wondering why you left so quickly? Did I do something to offend you in any way?”
San blinks, slight confusion clouding his face. “Oh, no, I just– I saw your form. Didn’t want to hang around and make you uncomfortable.”
Now you stare at him, just as confused. “Wait, what? What about my form?”
“You checked off ‘Hard No’ to aftercare.”
…Pardon?
No way.
He must see the bewilderment in your face because he fishes his phone out of his pocket to show you.
“Yeah, Hongjoong said…” he trails off, the light of his phone screen reflecting in his dark brown eyes. “Yeah, look.”
He holds his phone up to show you, and you step closer to it, squinting to see for yourself. Sure enough, amidst all of the other dozens of checkmarks, you accidentally fucked yourself over and selected ‘Hard No’ for aftercare. Luckily, you didn’t select one of the bodily fluid options as a ‘Hard Yes’ in your evident past confusion. You bury your face in your hands.
“Oh my god. That was meant to be a ‘Hard Yes’.” You groan. Guilt threatens to eat you alive for all your negative thoughts towards him, and the texts you sent Yeosang while in your dressing room after the fact. You’re going to have to do some serious damage control to get Yeosang to not hate him forever. It’ll surely start with a screenshot of the form you fucked up, followed by a dramatic statement of your stupidity.
San pockets his phone again, almost sheepish. He hesitantly steps closer to you, unsure of how to fix this.
“I’m so sorry,” he says quietly, “I should’ve double checked with you.”
“No, no, please don’t blame yourself when it’s my own mistake.”
“Still…” he trails off, looking down at the floor.
It hits you that he’s really hurt by this. Hurt for you.
“San…” you tilt your head to try and meet his eye. “It’s alright, really. I feel much better now that I know it wasn’t on purpose or because I did something wrong.”
“I’d never do that to you, or anybody. I always stress how important aftercare is to the directors I work with so they don’t try to rush through it.” San runs a hand through his freshly-washed hair as he speaks, exasperated. You vaguely remember him saying something akin to that in one of the interviews that you watched.
Damn, he really is nice. Here you were at the start of this, thinking he’d be a cocky son of a bitch who has the world at his feet, and anything he wants within arms reach. The last two parts of that description may be right, but your assumed attitude is definitely not. Well… maybe not entirely. The cockiness isn’t used to make anyone feel small, that’s the important difference. It’s confidence, more than anything.
“I know,” you smile, trying to make him feel better. “Really, it’s okay.”
He seems unconvinced. “Can I make it up to you in some way?”
You shift your weight from one foot to the other. If you wouldn’t immediately cringe at yourself for doing so, you’d maybe ask for a hug or something. Physical contact in any way to comfort you, make you believe it. But the guilt he obviously feels is enough. The knowledge that he truly thought it’s something you were so against, and he respected it anyway, is more than enough.
“You don’t have to, San.”
“I want to, Y/N.”
Your pulse skips a beat, wondering what he has in mind. The way he said it was so final, like he made up his mind already. His phone reappears in his hand, texting someone quickly and sending it off. He then reaches into his dressing room, turning off the light after doing a quick scan of it and closing the door behind him.
“Can I walk you out?”
That, you’ll allow.
“Sure. Are you going home?” You ask, changing the subject as the two of you start walking towards the exit doors.
“Nah, not yet. There’s a gym on this floor I’m gonna go to first.”
You just nod in response, wondering how on earth he has the energy to go to the gym right now. You have a very special date with your bed for the foreseeable future. It’s highly doubtful that you’ll wake up before three in the afternoon. Truthfully, you can’t wait. Maybe you’ll sleep off some of the soreness you’re sure to have tomorrow.
“Oh, by the way, do you have an agent?” San asks you out of nowhere, right before you get to the doors.
You blink once. Twice, processing. “No…?”
Yeosang’s the only one who may even come close. He’s the one you ask before doing anything, wanting his opinion and blessing. But technically and professionally, no, you’re an independent artist as far as you’re concerned.
“I’d find one soon,” San says, glancing towards the bed, soaked through. “You’re about to get a lot of offers.”
You blush furiously, reminded of everything that transpired between you barely an hour ago. “Maybe I should just take yours.”
San groans, “Honestly, do it. I’m sure Joong could use a break from my bullshit.”
You laugh, trying to hide it with your hand. San pretends to be offended that you agree, clutching his heart in betrayal, which makes you laugh harder. The doors push open, the white fluorescent lights blinding both of you after being so used to the golden studio lights on set.
“Maybe I will let you have him,” he says, a smirk growing across his face. “It’s good manners.”
He looks at you like he knows something you don’t, and it bothers you. The word choice sounds familiar, but you can’t place it. Before you can ask, he steps closer to you, invading your personal space for the first time since being intimate with each other. You hold your breath.
“Goodnight, baby.” He murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead before walking down towards the opposite end of the hallway, where you can only assume is the direction of the gym.
Fuckin’ hell…
You stand there like an idiot for another couple of seconds, still processing what just happened in the span of five minutes. You also try to figure out the implication behind his word choice. ‘Manners’. It bugs you so much, you know you heard something about it recently, but can’t pinpoint where or when.
The question of what he meant follows you all the way to the lobby. You press the down button on autopilot, just now remembering to text the driver to tell him that you’re ready to be picked up downstairs and taken home. From down the hallway, you hear the door to the studio swing open again – probably some of the crew heading home as well. You glance towards the stairs, not exactly jumping at the chance to be stuck in an elevator with a bunch of strangers who watched you have sex an hour ago.
But the footsteps that follow the sound of the door closing are what gives you pause. They’re hurried, and headed towards the lobby. The elevator dings behind you. You turn around just as the mystery runner comes around the corner.
“Oh! Hi, Mr. Kim–”
Hongjoong jogs over to you, catching you before the elevator doors open.
“Sorry if I startled you. San is wondering if we can arrange another collab, but this time on your livestream.” He speaks quickly, like time is of the essence.
You stutter, brain trying to connect with your vocal cords.
“What?” You ask, even though you heard and processed everything Hongjoong said just fine. You’re just wondering if you actually heard him right. Today just keeps getting stranger and stranger. More interesting, definitely.
He’s quick to repeat himself, almost pleading with his eyes for you to say ‘yes’.
At least with the emails you had some time to think everything over. Now Hongjoong is staring dead at you, waiting for the response he hopes to hear.
You can’t help it. You want to make him chase you again.
“Tell him I’ll think about it,” you say as sweetly as possible, stepping into the elevator.
You try not to enjoy the perplexed look on Hongjoong’s face until the doors close completely.
· · ─────── ·☆· ─────── · ·
You have no idea how he does it, truly.
Everything in his world is immediate. You’re not used to it whatsoever.
Those are the thoughts you have as you step out of the elevator in your apartment building, walking up to your door. You're more than ready to throw your shit down in the kitchen and go the fuck to bed. Your phone is in the process of being fished out of your pocket, intent on texting Yeosang to ask if he's around for a debrief.
You stop dead in your tracks when you look up, about to unlock the front door. Perched tall and proud, is a beautiful bouquet of purple flowers in a glass vase right outside your door. A card is placed in between the overlapping petals, and you can’t help but gawk at the sight of it.
How the hell did he find your address?
Oh– Hongjoong, probably. Your initial creeped-out feeling vanishes. Hongjoong can just find anything for San, you’re sure.
Punching in the keycode to your door, and switching the kitchen lights on, you place the flowers on the counter, taking a second to admire them. Purple, you note. Your favorite. Again, Hongjoong must have told him, but you can’t help but smile – he really did want to make it up to you.
You pluck the small card from the flowers and read it, sitting down at your kitchen island.
Hope you had a good time today.
Sorry for being such a stupid slut </3
-San
Your smile widens, laughing and rereading it. You flip it over, and on the back is a phone number, scrawled in blue ink.
Perhaps you missed a hidden clause in the forms that makes you promise to not fall in love with him.
Hello! I was just wondering if you can make a perv Anton again?..like a stalky perv Anton who decided to be your friend just to be close to you, can you make it long?..I love when you write 💕🥹
the low, rhythmic hum of the library’s old vending machine was the only thing breaking the silence in the basement stacks. it was past midnight, the campus practically deserted, which was exactly why you liked studying down here. you had your notes spread across the scarred wooden desk, a half-empty energy drink keeping you awake as you tried to cram for finals.
"still working?"
you jumped slightly, your head snapping up. anton was standing at the end of the row of bookshelves, his tall, lanky frame relaxed as he leaned against the metal casing.
he was wearing a washed-out, oversized black hoodie that practically swallowed his hands, his messy dark hair falling right into his eyes. he looked exactly like he always did—the quiet, soft-spoken music major who had randomly sat next to you in the dining hall three months ago and awkwardly struck up a conversation about playlist curation.
since then, he’d become your shadow. your sweet, harmless best friend who always happened to be walking in the same direction as you, always knew exactly what kind of coffee you liked, and always offered to walk you back to your dorm late at night.
"anton, oh my god, you scared me" you breathed, letting out a shaky laugh as you pressed a hand to your chest. "what are you even doing down here? i thought you went back to the dorms hours ago."
he didn't answer right away. he walked over, his movements slow, almost heavy, before he slipped into the plastic chair right next to yours. the proximity was instant. anton was big—much bigger than his shy demeanor let on—and when he sat next to you, his broad shoulders completely blocked out the rest of the dim basement row.
"i saw your laptop was still active on our shared drive" anton murmured, his voice that low, raspy cadence that always sounded like he’d just woken up. he tilted his head, his dark eyes fixed on your face, tracking the way your eyelashes fluttered. "and i knew you hadn't walked home yet. it's dangerous for you to be out here alone. you're too careless."
"i'm fine, anton, it's just campus" you smiled, turning back to your laptop.
you didn't see the way his expression completely shifted the second your back was turned. the soft, gentle "best friend" smile vanished, replaced by an intense, heavy stare that dark-eyed and predatory.
anton hadn't just "happened" to see your laptop active. he had a tracking app synced to your student login. he knew exactly which desk you sat at every tuesday and thursday.
he knew the exact route you took through the quad, the brand of laundry detergent you used because he lingered a second too long whenever he hugged you goodbye, and he had a hidden folder on his hard drive filled with candid photos he’d taken of you when you weren't looking—laughing in class, biting the end of your pen while studying, walking in the rain.
he had orchestrated the entire friendship. the shy, awkward boy routine was the only way to get inside your perimeter without scaring you off. he needed to be close enough to touch you, to smell you, to listen to the sweet, naive way you complained about your day while completely oblivious to the fact that he was drowning in a sickening, dark obsession with you.
"you look tired" anton whispered, his hand slowly coming up to rest on the back of your chair. his long fingers brushed against a stray strand of your hair, the touch so light it was almost accidental. "your skin is all flushed. are you warm?"
"a little" you muttered, shifting slightly. the air in the basement felt suddenly thick, almost suffocating. "the heating down here is weird."
"let me help" he said softly.
before you could say anything, anton reached over. his large, warm hands caught the hem of your oversized crewneck sweater. he didn't wait for permission; he just pulled it up and over your head in one smooth, practiced motion, leaving you sitting there in just your thin, ribbed tank top. the cool air hit your bare arms, making your nipples instantly harden against the thin cotton of your bra underneath.
your breath hitched. anton didn't look away. his eyes dropped directly to your chest, his gaze heavy and completely unbothered by the fact that he was staring. the shy nerd act was completely slipping, a dark, perverted hunger taking its place.
"anton..." you murmured, your heart suddenly hammering against your ribs. the way he was looking at you didn't feel like a friend at all. it felt dangerous. "what are you doing?"
"you're so pretty" he choked out, his voice dropping into a rough, demanding register you’d never heard from him before. he didn't give you space to think. he reached out, his long, pale fingers wrapping firmly around your jaw, his thumb digging into your cheekbone to force your head back.
"you have no idea how long i've been sitting next to you, watching you breathe, watching your mouth move, just waiting for you to be completely alone with me."
"wait— anton, stop, you're hurting me a little—" you gasped, your hands flying up to grip his thick wrists. you tried to pull away, but he didn't budge an inch. his grip was like iron, his tall body leaning over you until you were pinned flat against the plastic back of the library chair.
"i'm not going to hurt you, sweetgirl" he murmured, his face inches from yours. through the dark fringe of his hair, his eyes were completely blown out, black and wild with obsession.
"but you've been driving me crazy for months. you think it was an accident that i sat next to you that day? you think it's a coincidence that i know exactly when you're sad, or what you want to eat? i know everything about you. i watch you constantly."
your brain scrambled, a sudden chill running down your spine as his words registered. he was watching you. the late-night texts, the accidental run-ins—it hadn't been luck. he was stalking you.
"you're crazy" you whimpered, a tear of pure overstimulation and panic slipping down your cheek. "let me go, anton, please—"
"shh" he hissed softly, leaning down to lick the tear right off your skin, his tongue hot and wet against your cheek before his mouth moved to your ear. he bit the soft lobe, hard enough to make you arch your back with a sharp cry. "don't say that. i'm your best friend, remember? i'm the only one who takes care of you. and right now, i'm going to take care of how wet you are."
before you could scream, his free hand slid down your stomach, his large palm heavy and unyielding as it shoved straight down the waistband of your sweatpants. his fingers ripped your underwear aside, his thick middle finger driving deep inside your damp center without a single bit of preparation.
a choked-out scream ripped from your throat, but anton instantly slammed his mouth over yours, cutting off the sound. the kiss was sloppy, violent, and utterly dominating, his tongue invading your mouth, tasting like the mints he always chewed. down below, his fingers were moving in a brutal, fast rhythm, bottoming out against your cervix over and over until your legs were shaking uncontrollably.
"mmph—!" you thrashed against him, your fists uselessly beating against his broad chest, but the more you fought, the harder he fucked you with his hand, his thumb brutally grinding against your clit until your brain completely short-circuited.
he broke the kiss, a string of saliva connecting your lips as he panted heavily, his face flushed and sweating.
"look at you" he growled, watching your eyes roll back as your walls clenched frantically around his fingers. "you're so tight. you're soaking wet for your stalker, aren't you? you love how dirty i am. you love that i know exactly how to break you."
"no— stop— tony, please, it's too much—" you sobbed, your hips bucking off the chair involuntarily as a massive, shattering climax tore through you.
anton let out a low, guttural growl at the feeling of your walls crushing his hand. he pulled his wet fingers out with a loud, slick sound and immediately stood up. he didn't even bother to take his pants off the right way—he just unzipped his sweats, pulling his thick, pulsing shaft free. it was covered in pre-cum, throbbing angrily in the dim light of the basement.
he grabbed your hips, sitting you easily on top of the table before dragging your body forward until your ass was at the very edge of the table, your legs forced wide open over his broad shoulders.
"look at me" he commanded, his voice vibrating in your chest. "i want you to see exactly who's taking this from you. your sweet little friend."
he didn't give you another second to breathe. anton leaned all his weight forward and slammed his entire length inside you in one blunt, unyielding motion.
the massive invasion made your head snap back, a broken, jagged shriek echoing through the empty library stacks as his thick cock bottomed out against your womb. the friction was intense, borderline painful, but as he immediately started pounding into you in a heavy, punishing rhythm, the pain quickly melted into an overwhelming, blinding heat.
"fuck! you're so small" anton choked out, his hands gripping your hips so tightly his fingers left immediate red marks on your skin. his chest was heaving, his pelvis slapping violently against yours with a wet, heavy sound.
"i'm going to fill you up so deep you're never going to forget what i look like. you're mine now. i'm never letting you walk away from me."
you were a complete mess beneath him, crying, shaking, your fingers clawing at his shoulders as he completely ruined you.
he kept talking dirty, his voice sweet but his actions entirely predatory, telling you how he was going to walk you home after this and lock the door behind him, how he was going to watch you sleep every single night.
"cum for me again" he groaned, his pace becoming frantic, his thrusts shallower but faster as he reached his limit.
"clench around me, baby. show me how good you take your friend's cock."
you screamed, your body stiffening as a second, even more violent orgasm locked your muscles. the extreme pressure broke anton completely. he let out a loud, animalistic moan, burying his face in your neck as he delivered one final, deepest thrust, holding himself inside you as he came hard. you felt every single hot, thick pulse of his semen pumping deep into your core, overflowing until it was dripping down the plastic chair.
he stayed there for a long time, his forehead resting against your shoulder, his breath ragged as he slowly came down from the high.
finally, he pulled out with a wet pop. anton quietly zipped his pants, his expression instantly shifting back to that soft, gentle calmness. he reached over, grabbed your sweater from the floor, and gently shook the dust off it before wrapping it carefully around your shivering shoulders.
"come on, sweetgirl" he murmured, his voice returning to that sweet, quiet tone as he gently lifted you into his arms, kissing your tear-stained cheek. "let's walk home now. i'm going to tuck you into bed."
warnings: EXPLICIT sex content, boyfriend!woo-jin, virgin!gun-woo, switch!reader (yeah, we are topping gun-woo), drinking, swearing, threesome, a bit of choking, hickeys, oral sex (receiving and giving), praise kink (a bit), double penetration, unprotected sex.
synopsis: When Gun-woo finally wins the world champion title alongside his trainer Woo-jin, the three of you decide to celebrate at home. What starts as an ordinary night of drinking transforms when your boyfriend, loosened by alcohol, reveals an unusual desire: to give Gun-woo — who has never had a sexual experience — a special first time.
a/n: thank you a lot everyone for hyping me!! this is the sluttiest thing i've ever written in my life so i hope you enjoy!! SUB GUNWOO CAMPAING AHEAD also yeah, i'm reposting this since i've changed accounts
Agreeing to drink with Woo-jin had been a terrible idea.
You were only opening the second bottle of Black Label, and the trainer was already smiling wider than usual. You couldn't understand his fixation on celebrating things with alcohol when his tolerance was practically nonexistent. In the end, it always fell to you to sort things out and carry your almost-unconscious boyfriend home.
Tonight, though, things were different. This time, Gun-woo was also at the table, and all three of you had opted to stay at home. Well, it made total sense for the other man to be there—after all, he was celebrating his hard-earned title. But deep down, you also wanted someone responsible to help you keep an eye on Woo-jin.
"You two are so boring." Woo-jin murmured, bringing his glass toward you and waiting for you to fill it.
You exchanged a brief look with Gun-woo, who just smiled silently. In a quick motion, you filled Woo-jin's glass with a bit of the golden liquid—as expensive as its color suggested.
"You complain so much. We're celebrating just like you wanted, aren't we?"
"What kind of celebration is this where only I drink?" Woo-jin grumbled before taking a short sip of the burning liquor. He couldn't control his wince.
"But I am drinking." And in fact, you were. You were even refilling your own glass.
"Nah. You don't count, jagiya." The trainer took another sip, fighting back the urge to complain about the alcohol scorching his throat. You could hold your liquor much better than he could, and it bruised his pride. "I'm talking about our champion here." Woo-jin now directed his gaze at Gun-woo. "You could at least toast today."
"You know I don't drink, hyung." The boxer replied calmly. He was used to this conversation. Whenever possible, his best friend tried to convince him to venture a little, and he always refused.
"I know, I know. But… argh, you two know how to frustrate me so easily. Today was supposed to be different for a change. But no! Let's be responsible as always. What's the fun in being responsible?" Woo-jin was already starting to pout. His frustration intensified by the alcohol.
"The fun part is not having to drag your unconscious body around." You didn't think too much before answering, ignoring whether it would bother him or not. Hearing a low laugh, you got confirmation that Gun-woo had been thinking the same thing.
"Great. Now you're both conspiring against me!"
"If conspiring against you means worrying about your well-being, then yes. We're guilty." You rolled your eyes. When you looked down, your own glass was already empty. How could you drink so much while your boyfriend couldn't handle anything at all?
Gun-woo nodded with his warm, affectionate eyes.
Woo-jin, seeing he wouldn't get anywhere, just sighed. He knew how lucky he was to have people so concerned and loyal to him. And as much as he wanted to cut loose on certain nights for pure fun like in his teenage days, he now had to accept that life wasn't his anymore. Now, he had a real family.
"If you won't drink with me, you could at least let me choose something else, then." Woo-jin finally pushed away the glass he had emptied with great difficulty. There was a third bottle left to open, but he didn't even look at it. The trainer's tone suddenly became so serious that you furrowed your brows.
The table fell silent as you and Gun-woo stared at each other for a brief moment. Predictable as he was, Woo-jin liked to make sure you two never got too comfortable. The new champion was the first to break the silence.
"What else, hyung?"
"Have you ever had sex, Gun-woo?" Woo-jin asked directly, bluntly, almost as if you weren't sitting at the same table.
Your eyes widened instantly. That topic was definitely inappropriate to have in front of you. Not that you thought it was wrong for guys to talk about it—especially two close friends like them. But the idea that your boyfriend so carelessly ignored your presence left you disconcerted. Gun-woo thought the same thing, because he immediately looked at you in panic.
"Hyung!"
"Ah, just say it. She won't judge. Right, jagiya?" Woo-jin slowly pulled you into a game you didn't fully understand. His eyes never left you.
"N-No." Woo-jin broke into a smile at your response, and you couldn't help but feel a shiver. Whatever he was thinking, it was already getting to you.
"See? No one's judging." The trainer said in a gentle tone, almost as if he hadn't just asked something invasive. "So? Have you or haven't you?"
An awkward silence. Gun-woo looked at you, looked at Woo-jin, looked at every possible place in the room. You were confident he would take that answer to the grave.
"No." Gun-woo's voice came out so low that for a brief second you thought you'd imagined it. But his face gave away his answer—his cheeks flushed red, his gaze fixed on his glass that had never once been filled with whiskey.
"Good, good." Woo-jin murmured. You could almost see tiny gears turning in your boyfriend's head, as if he was processing the best way to voice his idea. "Would you like to?"
Again, silence. Yeah, you were determined to gag Woo-jin and drag him to the room you shared. He had already lost touch with reality. This time, since Gun-woo didn't dare respond, Woo-jin continued—but now with his eyes fixed on you.
"Would you do it with us, jagiya?"
"Huh?" You felt as if your eyes had jumped out of your face and your heart had leaped out of your mouth. What kind of question was that? Gun-woo looked at you equally surprised, searching your face for some prior planning regarding that proposal, but finding the same confusion in you.
"I've been thinking about this calmly... And you're right. Celebrating something like this with alcohol is too trivial. We should have a unique experience to match a unique title." Woo-jin explained as if he were commenting on the most insignificant thing to say. "So? What do you say?"
"You're clearly drunk." You said bluntly, and Gun-woo nodded his head repeatedly in agreement.
"Maybe a little, but I'm serious. Can't a guy want to give his best friend a good memory? Besides..." The trainer slowly looked at you as if testing you. No, he definitely was. "This would be something special, don't you think? The two of us teaching him the ropes... I think we can be good teachers, jagiya." He provoked you in a way that made the tips of your ears burn. "But of course, only with your consent."
More silence. This was so awkward. And Woo-jin loved that he was causing so much discomfort. You could clearly see it by the way he looked at you and then at the other boxer. He enjoyed the feeling of planting a seemingly wrong idea—one that, honestly, within an agreement, wasn't a big deal at all.
"So?" He provoked again.
"Hyung, really, you don't have to...!" Gun-woo tried to save you from answering.
"It's okay." You finally agreed. Not because you felt pressured into it. Actually, the idea of helping Gun-woo have his first sexual experience wasn't unpleasant to you. And if it was something your boyfriend also wanted, there was no reason to refuse. "But only if... only if Gun-woo wants it too."
The champion just stared at the two of you in pure shyness, as if standing before the most delicious and dangerous dessert in the universe.
"I want to."
[...]
At Woo-jin's suggestion, the three of you moved to the sofa. There was enough space for three people, but not so much that anyone could stretch out carelessly. Perfect. Your body was pressed between the two men—your back nestled against Woo-jin's broad, warm chest while you faced a very hesitant Gun-woo. Not that you were doing much better.
You felt your boyfriend's warm hands wrap around your waist, his chin settling into the curve of your neck, right by your ear.
"What's with this shyness, jagiya? You should be helping, not just staring at him like that. Your beauty alone is enough to intimidate a confident guy like me, you know?" He smiled against your skin, and you felt it perfectly.
"Not everyone knows what to do in a situation like this." You murmured back. Gun-woo stared at the two of you without saying a word, clearly waiting for some guidance.
"The way you start, silly." The trainer said, placing a soft kiss on your neck. "Go on. I don't want him to just sit there watching."
Hesitantly, you leaned toward the shy face of the boxer in front of you, giving him room to pull back if he had changed his mind—but he didn't. He just stared at you with curiosity. Looking closer, something in you studied the champion's gentle features for the first time. You had never stopped to calmly analyze how Gun-woo carried kindness even in the way his face was shaped. Of course, you had always perceived him as a decent person, but you had never paid him proper attention, because your attention was entirely dedicated to Woo-jin.
"Has no one ever wanted to?" You couldn't hold back the words as you studied the man in front of you. It made no sense that this would be his first time due to lack of options.
"I never accepted." The boxer replied, confirming your thought.
"Why?"
Gun-woo bit his lower lip, seeming to try to process the best way to answer that. His gaze was a little distant.
"I don't really know what I'm doing, and I didn't want to be judged for it. I also didn't want anyone to look at me differently because of it. Like I'm childish for not knowing. I'd rather focus on boxing—that's where I know my footing."
Oh, you understood the feeling of ignorance well. And you understood even better how it feels to be treated in an infantilizing way about something you don't know. It made perfect sense for Gun-woo to avoid that subject in that manner.
But here he was, silently staring at you and occasionally exchanging glances with your boyfriend behind you. Gun-woo trusted you both that much. And that was enough.
The first contact with his lips was gentle. You weren't sure if he had ever kissed anyone before, but right now that didn't make the slightest difference. The touch was just enough for you to feel his soft, hesitant lips.
"This won't do, jagiya." You heard Woo-jin's voice murmur as he slowly shifted from his spot on the sofa behind you to get closer to your shoulder. "Give him a proper kiss."
"Do you want to see your girlfriend kissing another guy that badly, you fucking weirdo?" You hissed, feeling humiliated that the kiss had been judged so poorly.
"Depends. Would my girlfriend rather see me kissing another guy?" He replied with a laugh, leaving you and Gun-woo wide-eyed for a brief moment. But honestly, you knew him well enough to believe he would actually do it.
You sighed, rolling your eyes, leaving Woo-jin to his own madness for a while longer. Your hands approached the boxer's face and held him by the cheeks. This time, you didn't hold back, invading his mouth with your tongue. Gun-woo let out a sigh, but you quickly swallowed it, pushing your tongue even deeper.
With some difficulty, you slowly felt him return your boldness. Gun-woo's hands went hesitantly down your back, but soon you felt them tighten around your waist. That hadn't been his doing, of course. When you looked, Woo-jin had already interfered again, adjusting the placement of his friend's hands on your back to bring them closer to your body.
"You can't be afraid to try things, Gun-woo." Woo-jin commented with a sideways smile. After making sure his friend's hands were firmly on your waist, he moved his own and placed them confidently on your breasts. The touch was familiar even over all the clothing. Your body shivered at every small callus on his hands. "Otherwise, you'll never learn the right spots."
You got distracted for a brief second, and that was answer enough for both boxers. For Woo-jin, it was just confirmation of how he knew how to make you feel good and safe, no matter the situation. For Gun-woo, it was a kind of encouragement to move forward—something entirely new and equally addictive.
It was the champion who attacked your mouth this time. Gun-woo kissed you with almost desperation, and perhaps even a touch of envy toward Woo-jin, because he already knew exactly how to get to you. However, that shy desperation—something entirely the champion's own—was enough to leave you just as flustered as your boyfriend did. Even without practice, Gun-woo already had equal power over you.
Your hands hurriedly invaded his white shirt, not holding back the hunger your fingers had to know every piece of that ownerless skin. Gun-woo made no move to stop you, only kissing you more intensely.
Woo-jin finally seemed satisfied with something that night, watching as Gun-woo slowly shed his shyness onto the floor. In response, the trainer licked the back of your neck, finishing with a lazy hickey. Woo-jin didn't stop there—he also slipped one hand inside your shirt and went back to touching your breasts, squeezing them without much care.
"No bra, jagiya? Were you waiting to surprise me, hm?" Woo-jin teased, making you blush by announcing the act out loud.
You didn't even have time to respond before he pulled your shirt up, bunching the fabric and exposing your breasts to Gun-woo. The sight left him breathless. For someone as proper as he was, it was possible that this was the first time Gun-woo had ever encountered the real sight of breasts. He definitely wasn't the type to consume pornography.
Of course, being handled by two men was already enough to get you aroused, but if it were up to Woo-jin, he would have an active role in the process. Releasing a mischievous smile, your boyfriend—still behind you—pinched one of your nipples between his fingers until you let out the first moan of the night. The sound was enough to leave Gun-woo even more desperate.
"Excuse me." The champion murmured with quick politeness before pulling off his own shirt, tossing it into some corner of the room. In his eyes, if you were exposed like that, he should also put his own body on the line. His gentleness, which at another time you might have found refreshing, now struck you as exciting.
Following his friend, Woo-jin carelessly pulled off his own T-shirt, resulting in the three of you naked from the waist up. For a moment, you felt like you were dreaming. You never expected to one day find yourself pressed between the muscular bodies of the two friends—all at the same time.
"You seem to be enjoying this a little too much." Woo-jin whispered right into your ear. "If I'd known, I would have suggested it sooner."
You almost snorted at the comment, but you didn't deny it. Your silly boyfriend was right this time. You were enjoying it way more than you'd imagined. Your gaze was focused in the direction of Woo-jin's voice, so it took a few seconds for you to turn your attention back to Gun-woo's face. He was staring at you in silence, but in his eyes there was clear jealousy of the scene—he wanted more of your attention.
You smiled, loving to see that wounded side of Gun-woo, and didn't hesitate to reward him, sitting down on his lap. His not-at-all-discreet erection was already visible through his sweatpants, and the champion couldn't hold back a moan when he felt the weight of your body on him. That moan deeply stirred something in you. There was something about it that set you on fire, and you wanted nothing more than to provoke Gun-woo until he gave in more and more.
"Gun-woo-ya." You whispered as you looked down at him, spotting a perfect prey for your hungry mouth. The boxer quickly lifted his face at your call. "Suck."
You pulled his silky hair roughly, shoving his face against your breasts without waiting for him to understand the situation. As one boxer reacts, the other doesn't fall behind, going back to playing with your nape and then trailing kisses and bites down your spine.
"And there's my bossy girl." Woo-jin murmured against your bare back, that playful tone always accompanying his actions. It excited him to see you display your dominance. What could he do if he was such a loser who loved to appreciate his woman in every way?
As for that, Gun-woo was also becoming a great devotee. This wasn't how he had imagined his first time would be, but honestly, he wouldn't want it to change at all. Having someone guide him like that, even a little roughly, was something he didn't know he needed until now. The champion, in a show of approval, sucked your breasts thirstily. The way his mouth clumsily swallowed everything made his inexperience clear, but Gun-woo compensated with how much he desired you and how he alternated hickeys with desperate licks on your hard nipple.
You didn't hold back your moans under the ministrations of the two men. As Woo-jin punished your back with marks, Gun-woo delivered submissive pleasure to you, so obsessed with your breasts that he could barely breathe. If he caught his breath, it wasn't long before he dove his face back into the softness of your chest. You could slowly feel how that union made you wetter and wetter. It was as if the alcohol was taking effect now, and your mind was floating.
"Take this off already, go on." Kissing your back, Woo-jin's fingers were impolite as they slowly lowered your shorts. You didn't refuse, only lifting yourself briefly from Gun-woo's lap so he could remove that piece of clothing from your body. When you sat back down, the champion moaned against your breasts. Your weight now only in your panties drove him crazy.
"Gun-woo-ya." You murmured again, and this time you didn't even need to pull his hair. Quickly, he stopped attacking your breasts to look at you, waiting for the next order. That silent man only made you hungrier and hungrier. "I want to teach you how to eat pussy. Do you want to learn?" Gun-woo just nodded desperately. "Lean back, oppa."
Woojin smiled at your attitude as he squeezed himself into the corner, giving you the space you needed to lie down in front of Gun-woo. Seeing you like that was enough to get his own cock hard, and that soon gave the trainer ideas. "Jagiya, maybe it's better if I teach. You can use your little mouth for something else."
Your boyfriend didn't need to elaborate further for you to understand his intention. He positioned himself on his knees over your face and quickly lowered his sweatpants until his hard cock sprang out. Woo-jin looked at you and then at Gun-woo, who was watching the scene with barely concealed envy. For some reason, seeing you like that—just for him and in front of another man—inflated the trainer's ego even more. He didn't even let you breathe before shoving his cock all the way into your mouth, and you felt it hit the back of your throat. You almost choked.
"That's it... just like that, jagi. Show our guest why you deserve to have your pussy eaten by him."
Woo-jin's movements weren't fast, but they were precise. With him positioned above you, he hit deep, torturing your throat. In fact, you didn't really need to suck him at all. He did all the work with your tight, warm throat, letting out undisguised moans. It was dirty, but you couldn't help getting even wetter as you were used that way, all while receiving Gun-woo's hungry gaze.
"Gun-woo." Woo-jin called the other man. "Learning to fuck a girl doesn't start with the dick. You always have to make sure she's comfortable enough to receive you." It was almost a funny scene—the way he taught not about boxing, but about sex, and about you. All while punishing your cheeks. "And maybe you'll do it just because you like it in the future. I at least like it a lot."
You were about to say something, but Woo-jin slammed his cock back to the back of your throat, now holding your neck in place, almost cutting off your air. The feeling of watching you struggle for breath was intoxicating. He wouldn't last much longer in that position, so he was quick. "Go on, take off her panties."
Gun-woo didn't ask questions. He was simply too desperate to have another piece of you. The boxer then pulled your panties down to your heels. The sight was enough to make his cock even harder. You were so wet that the fabric came away soaked. Woo-jin then removed his hand from your throat and slowly pulled his cock out of your mouth. You were all drooly and out of breath, your eyes even a little distant.
Seeing you like that was like a silent command. Gun-woo also wanted to leave you that way—because of him and for him. The champion then brought his face to your wet intimacy and began to lick. Even though he didn't know what he was doing, just the willingness to do it was enough to leave your legs wobbly.
Even without strength, you pulled his hair again, and he grunted happily against your pussy. He alternated between long licks and desperate circles. You pulled more and more until he finally found your clit. Gun-woo felt the exact moment he found it because your breathing faltered again. And like a man lost in a desert, he claimed your moisture like a devotee.
You already felt your body growing light when Woo-jin again thrust his cock into your throat. You were now being stimulated from both sides. At some point, control completely left your hands. Soon, it was no surprise when you collapsed in tremors, squeezing Gun-woo's face with your thighs and scratching Woo-jin's waist. He didn't come in your mouth, even though he was already at his limit.
In fact, Woo-jin pulled you into his lap, ignoring your reaction. "Let's make it special, jagi." He murmured, looking at your tired face. With one arm, he held your body against his. You didn't know what he was planning, but honestly, you no longer cared. You were drunk with pleasure between those men and would do anything at this point.
The answer to your question came when you felt the trainer's thick fingers exposing your pussy to Gun-woo. You had your back to him, so you didn't know exactly how he was analyzing the proposal. "Come on, both of us together."
"Hyung." You could hear the desperation in Gun-woo's voice. Even without seeing him, you knew that idea had shaken him. "Won't she feel pain?"
Woo-jin looked at you again, as if asking silently. He smiled at you as if provoking you to answer and say you wanted that experience as much as he did. But you didn't say anything. There was still a bit of your pride left, and how he loved your stubbornness.
"We'll just be careful. Don't worry, she'll tell me if it's too much." Woo-jin finally answered, still looking at you. Silently, he reminded you to use the safe word if it became too much. His concern for you always affected you. No one had ever cared that much about your well-being like him did. "Now go. You first, champs."
Your stomach tightened in anticipation. You were unsure if you could even handle both men that way. So, you just hugged Woo-jin's shoulders in response, resting your face there. Gun-woo hesitated when he saw you act that way, but Woo-jin just nodded at him. The trainer only tightened his grip on your back.
You closed your eyes when you felt Gun-woo's cock invade you. The champion entered slowly, holding your waist with both hands. He let out a relieved moan when he felt he had buried himself all the way inside you, his head even falling back. Woo-jin just watched, biting his lower lip.
"Can I keep going?" Gun-woo, always the gentleman, asked as he was fully inside you. You just nodded against Woo-jin's shoulder, and your small confirmation was enough for him.
The champion was clearly worried about hurting you, so he controlled his hip movements as much as possible, not going beyond what he thought was enough. If you weren't so exhausted by the two of them, you would have ordered him to go faster and harder, not to be so afraid of you, but you were falling apart even at the controlled pace that had been set. Just when you seemed to be getting used to it, Woo-jin also pushed inside you.
You let out a scream at the double intrusion, and out of minimal respect for your destroyed body, Woo-jin paused the movement for a moment. Both men were equally affected by being inside you simultaneously. You were receiving them so tightly that it seemed impossible. But it was possible, and Woo-jin began to move again to ensure it lasted as long as possible.
The movement of both hips against yours was cruel even without trying. Feeling both cocks pulsing inside you was almost enough to make you come again. "Good girl." Woo-jin whispered when he saw that you were slowly sustaining the pleasure and pain.
The interposition of bodies didn't last much longer. None of you three could handle that intense, wet friction for so long. Increasing the rhythm, you felt Woo-jin nearing his peak. And Gun-woo responded, unable to hold back any longer in front of the trainer, now thrusting into you more violently—though he would apologize many times afterward.
"Fuck, I'm going to come, jagi." Woo-jin announced, knowing the effect those words had on you. "You're too damn hot."
"I think I..." Gun-woo closed his eyes, feeling the wave of pleasure reaching its climax. "I think I am too."
You couldn't even respond before both men came inside you, their hands holding you in place. Out of breath, you also came hard, squeezing their cocks in small waves until you finally came back to yourself. Slowly, the two boys withdrew from inside you, letting cum drip out of you. That sensation was beyond anything you had ever experienced. Sleeping with two men had never been in your plans.
The three of you lingered a while on that sofa before finally being able to say something about what had happened.
"Thank you, jagiya. I won't forget this anytime soon." Woo-jin said as he placed a kiss on the top of your head.
"Neither will I." Gun-woo lost his shyness for a moment, feeling it was important to make it clear that the experience had been equally satisfying for him.
"Maybe I want to drink a little more after this." You replied wearily, hearing the laughter of the two men in response. The experience really had been unique.
IN WHICH : You have been taking piano lessons with Mr. Lee for months. What began as an innocent hobby quickly turns into an intense, mutual attraction, until the tension finally breaks during a lesson
⚠︎ WARNINGS : explicit content - smut (mdni) including: teacher/student, age gap (not specified), fingering, oral (f. receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, riding, dirty talk, praise kink, light spanking, hickeys/marking, nipple play, nicknames (sweetheart, baby, good girl)
You have been taking piano lessons with Mr. Lee for months. What started as an innocent attempt to pick up a new hobby to relieve stress has slowly turned into something else. Now you attend every class just to see him.
The tension between you has been building day after day. It began with lingering glances across the piano. Then came the gentle touches of his hands when he adjusted your fingers on the keys. And God, his hands were large and veined, you often find yourself staring at his long fingers, imagining how they would feel somewhere else.
He catches himself staring at your lips every time you bite them in concentration. He also notices how carefully you dress for his classes, in those dresses that expose your collarbone and the delicate curve of your breasts, or in those tiny skirts that let him glimpse the lace of your panties.
You both know this is wrong. After all, he is your teacher, older, more experienced. And you are his student, younger, but not entirely innocent.
One afternoon, the air feels heavier than ever. You arrive wearing a tight white dress that clings to your body. He is certain you bought it two sizes too small because the hem barely reaches the middle of your thighs, and your breasts look like they might spill out at any moment.
You are working on chopin's nocturne in e-flat major. Every time you stumble on a complex note, he moves closer.
"Feel it, don't rush." He murmurs, stopping right behind you. You can feel the warmth of his body against your back and smell his masculine cologne.
You turn your head slightly, your faces are only inches apart. His gaze instantly drops to your lips before he suddenly steps back. "Try again."
When the piece finally ends, a heavy silence fills the room. You are aching for him to do something, because you can already feel the wetness between your thighs, your pussy throbbing with need. "Mr. Lee..."
"Heeseung." He corrects quickly, his hands resting on your shoulders. "You've improved so much. But today you're... distracted."
"So are you." You whisper. He squeezes your shoulders harder and lets out a slow breath, as if he is finally surrendering to a fight he knows he cannot win.
"Stand up." You obey, turning around to face him on trembling legs.
He cups your face with one hand and gently brushes his thumb across your lower lip. Your eyes close, waiting for the kiss you've been craving, but then he whispers. "We shouldn't... this is reckless."
Your eyes snap open, your cheeks burning. "I know, but I can't stop thinking about you. Every day, in every lesson."
His eyes travel slowly down your body, taking in your breasts straining against the tight dress and your soft thighs. His cock throbs inside his pants. He is a man who has been fighting this for months, but the way you are looking at him now is too much.
He cups your face with both hands, gently stroking your cheeks. "If we do this, I need you to be sure."
"I'm sure, Heeseung. Please." you whisper.
The sound of his name leaving your lips without formality breaks him. "I'll stop the moment you want me to, sweetheart."
He pulls you into a deep, hungry kiss filled with months of repressed desire. You gasp against his mouth as he effortlessly lifts you onto the lid of the piano.
The kiss only breaks when you are both breathless. But Heeseung doesn't stop. He trails his lips down your neck, sucking and nibbling on your skin to leave marks.
"You have no idea how long I've wanted to taste you." He growls, gently biting the sensitive spot on your neck. "My pretty girl, sitting here every in that little dress, driving me fucking insane."
His hand slides up your thigh, pushing your dress higher until he reaches your panties, tracing the soaked fabric between your legs.
"You're soaked already." He smiles proudly and pulls your panties aside, stroking your folds and circling your clit with just enough pressure to make you gasp.
Then his mouth crashes against yours again, tongues tangling obscenely as he slides two fingers inside you. He swallows your moans, claiming your mouth. "Stay quiet for me, baby."
He drops to his knees in front of you and spreads your thighs wide. The sight of your hot professor kneeling between your legs makes your mind hazy and your pussy clench. He pulls your panties down, pockets them, and buries his face between your legs. "Oh God- Heeseung..."
His tongue gives long, hungry licks along your folds before sucking hard on your swollen clit. At the same time, he pushes two fingers back inside you, curling them against that sensitive spot. "Fuck, you're so sweet."
His fingers pump in and out of you while his tongue circles and sucks your clit. "This pretty little pussy is already soaked for me."
He eats you like a man starved, making your thighs shake around his head and your hips grind against his face. "That's it, baby, ride my tongue. Let me hear those pretty sounds."
He keeps going until you come hard with a loud moan. Only then does he pull back with a wicked smile and kiss you again, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. "Good girl. You did so well for me."
Still trembling, you reach for his belt, freeing his long, hard cock. The tip glistens with precum, making your mouth waters. You wrap your hand around the warm, heavy length and slowly stroke him. "Turn around for me, sweetheart. Bend over the piano like I've imagined a hundred times."
He guides you, bending you over the piano until your breasts are pressed against the cold wood. He pushes your dress up to your waist, fully exposing your ass.
"Fuck, look at you..." He runs his hand over the curve of your ass and squeezes one cheek hard, making you whimper. "Bent over my piano like a dirty little slut for your teacher. So beautiful it hurts."
He gives your ass a sharp slap, watching it jiggle, then he grabs the base of his cock and rubs the head against your slick folds. "I'm going to fuck you so deep you'll feel me for days."
He pushes in slowly, inch by inch, letting you feel every vein. He is big, almost too big, but the stretch burns in the most delicious way. When he finally bottoms out, you feel completely full. "So tight... My good girl's pussy is taking my cock so well."
He stays still at first, letting you adjust to his size. “You okay, baby?"
You open your mouth but only a shaky, pathetic sigh comes out, so you nod frantically, but it's not enough for him.
Smack!
The loud sound echoes through the room. Your ass stings, making you cry out. "Yes! I'm okay, please move."
He starts slow, pulling back until only the tip remains inside, then thrusting hard. The piano resonates with every powerful stroke. Soon his pace becomes faster and deeper. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, mixed with your moans and his filthy praises.
"That's it, take it." He leans over you, pressing his chest against your back. "This tight cunt was made for me. You've been teasing me for months while I tried to be a gentleman. Now you're bent over my piano like a dirty little slut for me."
His dirty words make you clench around him. "I can feel you everywhere inside me, oh my god-”
He laughs mockingly and pinches your clit. "Yeah? Then cum on my cock, I want to feel you milking me."
You come hard for the second time, moaning his name. He keeps fucking you through your orgasm until he finally buries himself deep and fills you with his hot, thick cum.
He stays inside you, making sure not a single drop is wasted, while kissing your shoulder and gently stroking your back. “Can you give me one more, baby? I want to watch you ride me.”
“Yes, please, Heeseung. I want it." You whisper breathlessly.
He sits on the piano bench and pulls you onto his lap. You sink down onto his cock and begin rolling your hips, riding him slowly at first. “You feel so good, baby."
He lets you set the pace while he finally pulls your dress off and throws it aside. Your breasts are finally free. He takes one nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the sensitive peak.
You move faster, holding onto his shoulders for balance, your clit rubbing against him every time you take him deep. "Hee- that feels so good."
He releases your nipple with a wet pop, but his hand keeps kneading and pinching the other one. "You're so wet and sloppy. I can feel my cum leaking down my balls, baby."
The pressure in your belly builds until your body starts shaking uncontrollably. Your movements lose rhythm, but he grips your hips and helps you keep going. "I'm going to cum inside you one more time. I want to fill this sweet cunt until it's overflowing."
You cum first, falling apart in his arms. He holds you tight, thrusting up into you through your orgasm until he follows right after, groaning in satisfaction as he fills you again.
"You were perfect." He whispers, kissing your forehead tenderly. "Are you okay, baby? Any soreness?
You shake your head, smiling at the softness in his voice. "I'm great."
He smiles and gently runs his fingers through your messy hair. "Good, because these lessons are going to be very different from now on."
𓂃
NOTE : english is not my first language, please let me know if there are any typos!
♣︎ a/n "i should probably finish my other fics" NAHH fuck them lets write another
haechan is just a simple guy. he doesn't mean any harm to you, you just happened to catch his eye one afternoon on campus.
maybe it was the way you laughed at something your friend said, head tilted back without a care in the world. maybe it was the way you tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear while reading beneath the shade of a tree or maybe there wasn't a reason at all.
all he knows is that after that day, he couldn't forget you, he tried. he really did but somehow everytime he thought about you led his hand in his trousers.
he was tired, tired of stroking himself alone. he laid in his bed every night, the rhythm of his chest rising up and down, sweat scattered on his forehead, as he imagines you, taking his length, filling you to the brim, tears leaving your eyes. he even thought about impreganting you, so you can't leave him.
but at the end of the day, it's all just a piece of his imagination. however, fate has another plan, the dream house party is this weekend. this time, he'd approach you without hesitation filling his blood.
it was finally the weekend. the one where haechan had been thinking about for weeks, where he was finally going to talk to you. he genuinely felt so pathetic as if he was high school teenage girl trying to confess to her crush, but the thing was that this was exactly the same thing.
he saw you the moment you walked in. the noise of the party didn’t fade, not really, but something about you cut through it anyway. oh god, you wore a short skim dress, not aware at how many jerks might be staring at you (including him) which made him want to gauge their eyes. he swore he popped a boner right there and then.
his hands embarassingly sweaty, resulting him clamping his hands over his crotch, trying to hide his rising length during the whole party. it was 12 am, people were leaving slowly, haechan was still there, still standing somewhere between “i’m going to do it” and “i’ll wait a few more minutes.”
which, at this point, was basically his entire personality for the night, he watched you from across the room. you were still surrounded by your friends, still talking, still smiling at something someone said like the world wasn’t quietly winding down around you. like time wasn’t slipping away with every second he hesitated.
he sighed, finally forcing his feet to move this was it. no more standing there pretending he was “waiting for the right moment.” there was no right moment. there was only this one, messy, real, slightly terrifying one.
he took a step forward, then another, eyes locked on you like if he looked away even for a second, he might lose the courage completely but then–
your group shifted, your friends started moving straight toward him or more specifically, toward his friends’ side of the room. haechan’s steps slowed almost instantly.
of course.
of course this was happening now, his heart kicked up so fast it almost felt loud in his ears, like it was trying to warn him before his brain could even catch up. suddenly, everything felt closer. tighter. like the room had shrunk without asking permission.
haechan caught in his gaze, the way you were walking towards him right now...everytime you took a step, your oh so perfect tits bounce just right, his eyes locked on them, for too long but not too long for you to notice. it drived him to the edge of crazy.
his mind already racing with filthly thoughts, he shifts uncomfortably, adjusting his growing erection in his pants. he let out a small, slightly awkward breath that might’ve been a laugh if he had more control over his nervous system.
one of your friends cut in first, haechan barely had time to register the movement before someone was suddenly in front of him, smiling like this was the most normal thing in the world.
“hey! wanna play truth or dare?”
for a second, he just blinked because his brain was still stuck on you being right there. close enough that he didn’t even have to look for you anymore.
“uh—yeah,” he heard himself say before he could overthink it into oblivion, his voice sounded normal. somehow miraculously. his friends immediately reacted like he had just agreed to jump off a building for fun.
haechan shot them a look, but it didn’t really land because his attention kept slipping back to you.
the group started forming a loose circle in the living room, people dragging chairs, sitting on the floor, laughing as the night finally settled into something slower, more contained.
haechan slides into the circle, positioning himself directly across from you so he has a perfect view. he leans back on his hands, legs spread casually as he watches you settle into your spot.
"alright, who's going first?" jaemin asks, spinning an empty bottle in the center. the bottle slows down, pointing directly at one of your friends.one of the friends clapped her hands dramatically, grinning “truth or dare?” the girl the bottle landed on didn’t even hesitate “truth!” immediate chaos.
the group around her reacted at once,
“no fun!!”
“boring!”
“you’re supposed to suffer a little!”
laughter broke through the complaints, filling the space again, light and easy, bouncing off the walls that were slowly feeling less like a party and more like a shared secret between everyone left in the room.
haechan let himself smile a little at that, just watching, but then his eyes drifted.
of course they did, to you.
you were sitting not too far away, listening, laughing at something someone whispered beside you, completely relaxed like the whole thing didn’t have the same effect on him that it did on you.
the girl suddenly leaned forward, eyes scanning the circle like she was about to expose secrets for fun “okay so,” she said, dragging it out for effect, “the people among us… who still is a virgin!" the room went instantly louder.
“oh my god—”
laughter bounced around the circle as people started pointing, teasing, trying to guess before anyone even answered properly. she buried her face in her hands for a second before finally peeking out between her fingers “ugh, fine.”
the room quieted immediately, she pointed across the circle “it's y/n..!" for a split second, everything went still then every head turned toward you, haechan's heart immediately dropped somewhere near his stomach.
the words hit him like a truck, his breath hitching audibly in his throat. immediately, his jeans became painfully tight, the realization that you were untouched driving him absolutely insane. he shifts his legs uncomfortably, trying to hide the massive bulge forming in his pants, his eyes locked solely on you with a newfound, predatory hunger. "fuck..." he muttered under his breath.
you looked completely caught off guard, “what?” you laughed, staring at your friend in disbelief.
“you asked!”
“i didn't think you'd actually say it..”
the room exploded into reactions, some people looked shocked and some looked suspicious. others immediately started teasing you while your friend defended herself with a dramatic, “don't blame me! you told me the truth!”
later, as the party slowly emptied out, people began gathering their things and saying their goodbyes.
the once crowded living room was now scattered with half-finished conversations and tired laughter. the energy had shifted completely from loud and chaotic to soft and sleepy.
haechan stood near the front door, hands tucked into his pockets and somehow, after spending an entire night trying to gather the courage to talk to you, he still hadn't done it.
it was actually impressive.
almost, then he saw you. you were saying goodbye to your friends, adjusting the strap of your bag as you prepared to leave. his stomach dropped.
no.
absolutely not.
if he let you walk out that door now, he knew exactly what would happen. before he could talk himself out of it, his feet started moving and suddenly he was standing in front of you. for a moment, neither of you said anything.
mostly because haechan's carefully prepared speech had completely disappeared from his brain.
"uh..."
great start.
you looked at him expectantly, he nearly laughed from nerves "you're leaving?" the second the words left his mouth, he wanted to throw himself into traffic.
obviously you were leaving.
you were standing by the door with your bag on.
genius observation.
but instead of looking annoyed, you smiled slightly. "yeah."
"right. yeah." he said, with a hint of hesitation.
silence.
haechan could feel himself actively losing this battle then he forced himself to continue "i was wondering..." his voice came out steadier this time. "would it be okay if i dropped you home?"
for a second, his heart forgot how to function, the question hung between you yet somehow it felt like the most terrifying thing he'd ever asked. you blinked, clearly surprised, not uncomfortable. just surprised which, honestly, was fair.
from your perspective, a guy you'd barely spoken to had suddenly appeared at the end of the night offering you a ride.
haechan immediately rushed to explain "only if you're okay with it," he added quickly. "if not, that's completely fine." he scratched the back of his neck, looking away for a moment "i just thought i'd ask." his honesty surprised even himself.
you studied him for a second and for the first time since he'd noticed you months ago in that university courtyard, haechan realized he wasn't looking at some impossible fantasy. he was standing in front of a real person and for the first time, you were looking right back at him.
ever since that night he dropped you to your home. it stimulates him that he knows where you live, your address. he has no bad intentions, he would never think of doing such a pathetic thing— but here he is, infront of your apartment complex.
he has your routine memorized, like the back of his hand. to anyone it was just a mundane routine but to him? it was poetry. he knew, at five am, the morning light peeked in your apartment causing you to wake up. then you'd get ready til six thirty am and leave for your uni.
you'd return home by seven to seven thirty pm, the real rush that made his blood hum with excitement was that today you were at a sleepover, he heard from your friends meaning you wouldn't be home today.
he has no bad intentions, really. he just wants you to feel loved, loved by him.
right now, he stands in front of your apartment. his eyes are locked on the keypad. he paces slowly in the dimly lit hallway. in his mind, he replays the exact movement of your finger. he had the code completely memorized.
he steps closer and presses the digits one by one. a sharp beep tears through the silent hallway. the lock click turns, as the door opens and all he could smell was remnents of you, your smell and your presence.
he steps inside, his eyes filled with lust scanning the familiarly unfamiliar place, the scent of vanilla and jasmine hits him instantly, your scent. it's intoxicating, driving him mad with desire.
he closes the door behind him, the click of the lock echoing in the quiet apartment. he pushes open your bedroom door slowly, stepping inside. his breath catches in his throat. the room is a sanctuary, soft pink walls, fairy lights draped across the ceiling, your scent lingering in the air like a beautiful ghost. he runs his fingers along the edge of your desk, his touch gentle, reverent.
he exits youe room, his feet moving towards the bathroom with a hidden ambition. his heart races as he spies your discarded panties on the bathroom floor. he picks them up cautiously, bringing them to his nose, oh god, your smell... something intimate and erotic awakes inside of him. his cock hardens instantly in his sweatpants.
he looks around, checking if someone could see him. the irony, his hand travels down to his trousers. he palmed his crotch as he found himself delving into your scent, he gasps for air.
he presses the fabric against his nose again, inhaling deeply. his free hand travels down his sweatpants, slowly. his throbbing length springs free and he groans softly, stroking himself as he sniffs your panties. he breathes, his thumb circling his tip. his breath is ragged, desperate. desperate for you.
his hand moves faster, pumping his length rhythmically as he imagines you beneath him. he presses your panties against his face, groaning at the intoxicating scent, "fuck... you smell so good, baby..." he pants, his hips bucking slightly, he closes his eyes, picturing your face.
his strokes grow harder, faster. in his mind, he sees you— eyes wide, lips parted as he slides inside you. He imagines your tight warmth gripping him, your soft moans filling his ears, "yes... take it all" he whines, his hips thrusting into empty air, his voice echoing in the empty apartment.
his pace becomes frantic, desperate. his cock twitches violently in his grip as he imagines your walls clamping down on him, milking him endlessly. his other hand squeezes your panties against his face, he strokes himself with the thrill of getting caught by you.
with a guttural, choked moan, his body arches violently. thick ropes of cum spill over his hand and the bathroom floor, his hips bucking uncontrollably into his fist as he rides out the intense orgasm. he gasps, panting heavily. his entire body trembles as the waves of pleasure crash over him.
after shamelessly catching his breath, he moves to your dresser, pulling open the drawer filled with your neatly folded panties. his eyes darken with hunger as he selects a pair. soft, silk, unused. he rubs his drying cum across the fabric, marking them with his essence.
a dark grin spreads across his face as he finishes marking them, his chest swells with twisted pride that every morning you'll slide into these panties, unaware that his cum will be pressing against your folds, coating your delicate flesh. you'll walk around, go about your day, feeling nothing but the fabric.
the next few days, he sees you across campus and his heart swells with this dark secret. you wave at him brightly, completely unaware that your sweet pussy is basically wraped around his essence. he waves back, playing the naive friend while inside he's burning with possesion.
for the next few weeks, the space between you teo seemed to shrink with every passing day. it became a fixture in the lecture halls, always sliding into the same creaking wooden seats, shoulders brushing with every shared laugh. but the casual hangouts and quiet study dates were no longer enough to quiet the restless storm brewing inside him.
a heavy, aching dissatisfaction had taken root. he didn’t just want to be close to you anymore; he wanted to tear down every remaining boundary, to consume you completely and feel you wrap around him from the inside out.
he just couldn't wait no more. he tried. he really did. but you would test his patience when you showed up in the shortest shorts, and tight tanks that barely covered you. sometimes he wondered if you were intentionally straining his patience, pushing his self-control to the limit.
today, he stood just a step away, his chest rising and falling in a slow, deliberate rhythm. the usual easygoing warmth in his eyes had vanished, replaced by something dark, intense, and unreadable as he watched the rain drip from your jawline.
you'd asked him to drop you off to your apartment, but it started raining, heavily. oh, how haechan thanked the heavens.
the rain fell in punishing sheets, standing under the shelter of the apartment awning, you were both completely soaked. strands of wet hair clung to your face, and your clothes felt heavy, plastering themselves to your skin.
haechan's eyes flickered, catching the way your white shirt had become translucent from the rain, clinging to your curves like a second skin. through the thin, wet fabric, your black bra was clearly visible, the lace pattern barely concealed.
he swallowed hard, his adam's apple bobbing as he watched the water droplets trail down between your breasts, disappearing beneath your collar.
it took every ounce of his self-control to keep his composure. he clenched his jaw, forcing his eyes away from the tantalizing sight of your wet shirt clinging to your breasts. he shifted his weight, discreetly adjusting his stance to hide the growing problem in his jeans, his knuckles turning white as he shoved his hands into his pockets.
"uh, i'll go now.." he said, diverting his eyes from you. "you're going to freeze out here," you said, your voice shivering slightly as you offered a kind, sympathetic smile. you gestured toward the heavy glass doors of the complex.
"come inside. just until the storm lets up, i can get you a dry towel." you urged him. how could he refuse you?, to which he reluctantly walked to your apartment, his steps heavy and deliberate as he followed you down the quiet corridor. he kept his eyes locked firmly on the back of your head, watching the way your wet clothes clung to your skin.
his hands curling into tight fists at his sides to keep from reaching out prematurely. he was crossing the threshold into your private world. a faint, dangerous shift passed over his features; a predator recognizing that the cage doors had just been unlocked from the inside.
when you unlocked the door, he stepped inside the utterly familiar house, which once he filled his scent with, inhaling deeply. the air still holds traces of him, ghosts of his presence, of the countless hours he's spent inside your walls. his eyes scan over you, damp and vulnerable, unaware that he's violated this sanctuary of yours dozens of times.
he watches you disappear into the bathroom, his mind racing. the sight of you, soaked and naive, has his heart pounding and his jeans growing tight. when you return with a towel, he takes it from you without a word, deliberately letting his fingers brush against yours.
"thanks.." he said with a soft smile, "yeah, no worries. just make sure don't catch a cold!
he nods, forcing his smile to remain casual as he watches you dry your hair. the gentle concern in your voice sends a jolt of possessiveness through him. he wants to keep you warm, keep you safe... and keep you wrapped around his dick.
"i'll bring you something warm to drink, mhm?" you said softly. his heart swelled at your sweetness. he nodded, watching you walk into the kitchen to make hot coffee. his steps were completely silent as he followed.
he purposely stood directly behind you, pressing his broad, damp chest flush against your back. he leaned his weight against the counter, trapping you between his bodu and the kitchen island. his cock presses against your soaked shorts as he feigns casual indifference, pretending to observe the coffee brewing.
"smells good," yeah, he couldn't give one single fuck about the coffee, the only scent he was craving was yours. he murmurs against your ear, his hips subtly grinding forward so you can't miss it.
you jolted, your breath hitching at the sudden warmth pressing against your back. you quickly convinced yourself he wasn’t doing it intentionally; the kitchen was small, and he was just trying to stay out of the way.
trying to shake off the sudden nervousness, you forced your hands to stay steady and continued brewing the coffee, "uh, yeah..." you stammered, your voice trailing off as you stared fixedly at the mugs, trying to ignore the wetness dripping in your panties.
he notices your nervousness and it intoxicates him. the way you're trying so hard to be normal, to be a good host, while he's violating your personal space. he grinds a little harder, letting you feel the full length of his arousal pressed between your ass cheeks.
you didn't mean to let out a whimper, your clamped your thighs tighter at the contact. haechan's ego swelling at your lack of experience.
his eyes flash with triumph at your unintentional whimper. he swallows hard, his arm wrapping around your waist to pull you back against him fully. his other hand moves to cover yours on the counter, holding you in place as he continues to grind against you slowly, deliberately.
"shh..." his hand travels around your curves, you didn't stop him, it felt so good.
he feels your knees weaken and it makes him dizzy with power. your body is betraying you, responding to his hidden assault even as your mind remains oblivious. he grinds with more pressure. "just let your body feel it...doll."
his hand slides down from your waist to grip your thigh, lifting it slightly to change the angle so he can press deeper between your cheeks. he kisses your neck gently as he dry humps you against the counter.
haechan was way more vocal than you, he moaned against your ear, goosebumps spreading across your skin. his hand travels down to the waistband of your soaked shorts and your panties, tugging them down slowly as your whimpers fill the kitchen.
he drops them to the floor, exposing your bare skin to the cool air and his burning gaze. his cock is rock hard against your ass, slick with his own precum. "you're so wet, baby.." he groans, "you can give it to me, right?"
he coaxed you with his sweet and gentle voice, His voice drops to a low, soothing murmur as his fingers find your slick folds, sliding inside you with agonizing slowness. he feels your walls clench around him, your body responding despite your confusion.
"easy there, doll... just relax for me..." he curls his fingers gently, searching for that spot he knows makes you melt. "you feel so good..."
"haechan...i've never done this before..." you let out a breathy moan, his heart stutters at your confession–which he already knows, something dark and predatory burns behimd his eyes. he strokes you slower, gentler, revering the wet heat of you. his thumb finds the bundle of nerves, rubbing soft circles. he continues to stimulate you to the fullest.
he turns you to face him, his hands framing your face gently as he sees your eyes got glossy from the mere pleasure he gave you. he wondered how badly are you going to break when he stuffs you with his cock, filling you up or when he fucks your throat ruthlessly, gagging around his cock.
oh he was just getting started, you were so devastingly innocent, all he wanted to do was to corrupt you beyond any limit.
his lips curl into a dark smile as he takes in your innocent face, your tear-filled eyes. he realizes just how easy it would be to corrupt you, to take your virginity and make you love every second of it.
haechan, then led you into the bedroom, his hand firm on your lower back as he guided you forward. once inside he started peeling off his clothes right in front of you, first tugging his shirt over his head to reveal his chest, then shoving his pants and underwear down in one motion.
his cock sprung free, already half-hard and flushed. he stepped out of the pile of fabric and moved closer, reaching for your own clothes next. he stripped you slowly, pulling your soaked shirt off, as he clipped off your bra as you stood bare in front of him.
suddenly you were hyperaware of everything about you. you felt insecure, your hands rushed to cover your breasts– but haechan burned inside when he witnessed you conceal your beautiful body, the body which he can worship for hours, the body which he could not leave untouched.
"no, no, no." he immediately pushed your hands from covering yourself. he sounded so angered as if it personally offended him, it absolutely did. he let you sit on the bed, standing in front of you with his cock standing hard.
he had climbed onto the bed and pushed two fingers into your mouth, sliding them over your tongue, "suck," he whispered, his other hand stroked his cock. your naive eyes fluttered open, confused but obedient as you closed your lips around his fingers and sucked gently.
he whimpered, pulling his fingers out and replacing them with the head of his cock, "you're so beautiful, do you know that?" you took him into your mouth, tasting the salt of his precum while he thrust shallowly between your lips, he removed his cock from your lips, and laid you down on the bed.
he pinned your wrists above your head. he shifted lower between your spread thighs, releasing one wrist so his fingers could trail down your stomach. two thick digits pressed between your folds, rubbing over your clit in slow circles before he pushed them inside.
a moan escaped your lips when he moved his digits inside you, his ego swelling beyond limit. he worked them in and out steadily, stretching your tight walls while his thumb kept stroking that sensitive spot above. the way your back arched oh god, he loved how your tits bounced to the rhythm of his strokes. your juices coated his fingers quickly as he curled them upward, searching for the spot that made your hips twitch.
he pulled his fingers free after a few minutes and brought them to his mouth, sucking them clean with a low hum. then he lowered his face between your legs, leaving small pecks on your stomach, on your pelvic bone and on your inner thigh. his tongue dragged a long, flat stripe from your entrance up to your clit, tasting you fully before he sealed his lips around the swollen nub and sucked resulting a devastingly beautiful moan from you. "mhmg!...haechan.."
"oh you taste like heaven..." he licked and lapped with purpose, tongue dipping inside you now and then while his nose pressed against your mound. you trembled continuously and he showed no signs of stopping his assault on your core.
his hands gripped your thighs, keeping them wide open as he ate you out, saliva and your wetness mixing and dripping down toward the sheets.
he stayed there, tongue working deeper and faster, it made you see white, your toes curled with pleasure filling up your nerves. you squirted until your thighs started shaking around his head, your juices gushing out rapidly. his face, the sheets and your thighs dripped of your cum.
only then did he pull back, lips shiny, and crawl up your body again. he gazed at your dried tears, "oh baby, you did so well," he captured your lips in a deep, consuming kiss, nothing sweet or innocent about it. his tongue invades your mouth. he moaned into the kiss, tasting your juice, suckling on your tongue, a clash of teeth and tongues.
"i'm gonna fill you up raw, baby..." he heaved with lust veiling his eyes, his cock rested heavy against your slick pussy as he positioned himself, the head nudging your entrance without pushing in yet.
he growls, lining the thick head of his cock against your untouched entrance. he pushes forward slowly at first, the fat tip stretching your tight hole, then slams in deeper with one rough thrust. your hymen tears open under the force, the thin membrane ripping apart around his cock as he forces every inch inside you, you screamed out, with pain flowing in veins which slowly transitioned into tempering pleasure.
blood trickles out around his shaft, spilling on the bedsheet and mixing with the slick from his precum as he starts pounding into you without mercy. each thrust drives deeper, stretching your virgin walls that clench and flutter around him.
he pulls back just enough to see the red streaks on his cock before slamming back in, fucking the torn innocence wider with every stroke. his hips snap forward relentlessly, the wet sounds of your bleeding cunt filling the room as he claims your virginity completely.
he doesn't slow down, not one bit. he finally have you under him, after months of longing. hd grinded his pelvis against your clit while his cock rearranges your insides, pushing past the resistance until he's buried balls deep as he fucks you harder, the head of his dick battering your cervix with each brutal thrust.
your body shakes under him while he uses your freshly deflowered pussy, pulling out partially to watch your juices cling to his cock before ramming back inside.
his pace grew erratic as he chased his orgasm, grinding deep and holding there while his cock pulsed. hot cum flooded your insides, thick ropes painting your walls and leaking out around his shaft to mix with the blood.
he stayed buried inside you, rocking gently to push his load deeper, "stay like this, doll.." he ordered, keeping you pinned beneath him, "we don't want any of it to drip out? okay?"
haechan told himself, he can't live without you, never and you can never leave him, ever. the way he can keep you to himself, only to himself is to get you pregnant. his nerves filled with joy, when he envisions you all big and plump with his seed in you.
so, even after he came he kept his cock inside, half-hard and twitching as more cum seeped into you. his hands roamed your body while he whispered about how he'd keep coming back to fill you up until your belly swelled.
you laid there dazed, his fingers back in your mouth as you sucked them clean, completely unaware of how thoroughly he'd claimed you.
warnings: badboy!wonwoo, dominant!wonwoo, established relationship, marking, oral (f rec), unprotected sex
wc: 2893
author's note: maybe this should be a warning but this is straight up fucking in your parents house and trying not to get caught
The dining room in your parents' house is bright under the chandelier, the table set with crisp white linens, polished silverware, and your mother's roast chicken steaming in the center. Your heart races as you sit beside Wonwoo, his hand brushing yours under the table in a fleeting, hidden touch that sends sparks up your arm. You've never brought home a guy before, and Wonwoo is certainly the last man your parents expect you to bring home.
He's transformed for the occasion: black slacks hugging his lean hips, a crisp white button-up shirt tucked neatly, every tattoo concealed beneath the fabric. His dark hair is slicked back just enough to stay out of his piercing eyes, giving him an air of refined elegance that contrasts sharply with the rebel you know—the one who revs his motorcycle too loud and smirks at rules like they're suggestions.
Your father studies your boyfriend, appraising him. “Wonwoo, it’s good to finally meet you.”
There's a hint of skepticism in his tone, but Wonwoo doesn't flinch.
“Yes, sir. I'm grateful for the chance to meet you both properly.” He turns to your mother, offering a charming smile that crinkles the corners of his eyes. “The house smells great—did you make all this yourself?”
She blushes slightly, waving off the compliment as she gestures for everyone to sit. “Oh, it's nothing special. Just a family recipe.”
As dinner begins, Wonwoo dives in effortlessly. He asks your father about his work, nodding thoughtfully at stories of engineering projects, and shares the story of how you met, focusing on the fact you met at college and omitting the motorcycle ride.
“You know, Wonwoo,” your mother says midway through the meal, passing him the mashed potatoes, “our daughter speaks highly of you. She's always been so responsible, our good girl. It's great to see her bringing home such a nice young man.”
Wonwoo's gaze flicks to you, a subtle heat in his eyes that only you catch, before he replies, “She's incredible. Smart, kind—I'm lucky to have her in my life.”
His foot nudges yours under the table, a secret press that makes your cheeks warm. The conversation flows easily after that; he compliments the wine your parents chose, laughs at your father's dry jokes, and listens intently as your mother recounts neighbourhood gossip. By dessert any tension in the air has eased into approval.
As plates clear, your father leans back in his chair. 'It's getting late, and the drive back might be rough with the weather picking up. Why don't you stay the night, Wonwoo? We have a guest room down the hall.'
Your mother nods enthusiastically.
Wonwoo inclines his head graciously. “That's very kind of you. I'd appreciate it. Thank you.”
You exchange a quick glance with him, smiling at how well the evening turned out.
The evening winds down with tea in the living room, polite small talk fading as your parents retire around ten. You bid Wonwoo goodnight in the hallway, your voices hushed and formal for their sake, though his fingers graze your wrist as he whispers, “Sweet dreams,” with a wink that belies the bad boy beneath.
---
In your old bedroom, the clock ticks past midnight. You're asleep, lost in dreams, dressed in nothing but an oversized t-shirt that skims your thighs and a pair of cotton underwear hugging your hips.
The door opens with a whisper-soft creak, not enough to disturb you. Wonwoo moves like a shadow, closing it behind him and turning the lock with practiced silence. He's shed his shirt somewhere in the guest room, left in loose sweatpants that do little to hide the bulge growing against the fabric.
His bare feet pad across the carpet, eyes adjusting to the dim light spilling through the curtains. He pauses at the bedside, gaze raking over your sleeping form—the way the t-shirt has ridden up, exposing the curve of your ass, the peaceful rise and fall of your chest. The thought of claiming you here makes his cock twitch harder.
He slides onto the bed carefully, the mattress dipping under his weight as he spoons you from behind. His body molds to yours, chest pressing against your back, one arm slipping around your waist to pull you flush. The heat of him seeps through the thin fabric of your t-shirt, his skin feverish with restraint. You stir faintly in your sleep, a soft sigh escaping, but don't wake yet. Wonwoo's lips brush the nape of your neck, inhaling the familiar scent of your shampoo.
Then, without warning, his hand clamps over your mouth—firm, unyielding, fingers splaying wide to seal in any sound. At the same moment, his mouth latches onto the side of your neck, sucking hard, teeth grazing the skin as he draws a deep, bruising mark.
The sharp sting and sudden pressure jolt you awake. Your eyes fly open, heart slamming in your chest as panic flares—then recognition hits. Wonwoo's body is a solid wall behind you, his hips grinding forward to press his hard cock against your ass. It's thick and insistent, the length of it nestling between your cheeks, throbbing with need. You try to gasp, to turn, but his grip holds you pinned, his palm muffling the noise into a pathetic whimper. His tongue swirls over the fresh hickey, soothing the ache even as he bites down again, lighter this time, marking you deeper.
"Shh, baby," he murmurs against your ear, voice a rough rasp laced with amusement.
His free hand slides under your t-shirt, palm flat against your stomach, fingers dipping just below the waistband of your panties. "Didn't mean to startle you. But fuck, I couldn't stay away. Lying in that guest room, staring at the ceiling, all I could think about was you in here. Touching yourself in this little bed, biting your lip to keep quiet."
He rolls his hips, dragging his cock along the cleft of your ass, the friction making him groan low. "Got me so hard imagining it. You, all innocent, rubbing your clit to dirty thoughts.”
His words send a rush of heat straight to your core, your body responding despite the shock. You squirm against him, ass pushing back instinctively, feeling the rigid heat of him twitch in response.
You pull back just enough to breathe. “Wonwoo, wait. They're right down the hall. If they hear—"
He chuckles, the vibration rumbling through his chest as he guides you onto your back and captures your lips, swallowing your protest.
“You think I'm worried?” He nips at your bottom lip, tugging it between his teeth before releasing. “I'll just have to keep you quiet.”
Your breath hitches, a mix of fear and thrill coiling low in your belly. You nod, biting your lip to stifle another sound, but he sees the anxiety in your eyes, the way your gaze darts to the door.
“Trust me,” he whispers, kissing the corner of your mouth, then your jaw, trailing hot breaths down your neck. His hands roam now, one sliding under your shirt to palm your breast, thumb circling your nipple until it hardens under his touch. You arch into him, legs parting as he shifts to kneel between them on the bed.
The kisses intensify, messy and urgent, his tongue exploring your mouth while his fingers pinch and roll your nipples, sending jolts straight to your core. You kiss him back hungrily, hands threading through his hair, tugging just enough to earn a low growl from him.
He presses his body against yours, the hardness of his cock grinding slowly against your thigh. The friction makes you gasp, and he silences it with another deep kiss, his weight pinning you down. Your mind races—images of your parents' bedroom door opening, footsteps in the hall—but Wonwoo's touch drowns it out, his hand slipping lower to cup you over your underwear, fingers pressing against the damp fabric.
“Already wet for me,” he murmurs, voice husky as he nips at your earlobe. “Good.”
He hooks his fingers into the waistband of your panties, tugging them down in one smooth motion; you try to clamp your thighs together, cheeks burning. But he pries them apart gently, settling between your legs, his broad shoulders forcing you open.
“Spread for me. Let me see that pretty pussy.”
You obey, heart pounding, as he leans down, his breath ghosting over your inner thighs. His hands grip your hips, thumbs digging in just enough to hold you still. Your anxiety spikes again—what if a moan escapes? What if the bed creaks too loud? You cover your own mouth with one hand, but Wonwoo shakes his head, prying it away.
“No. I'll handle that.” He shifts up briefly to kiss you once more, softer this time, reassuring, before trailing kisses down your chest. He pushes your top up, exposing your tits, and takes one nipple into his mouth, sucking hard enough to make your back bow off the mattress.
A muffled cry builds in your throat, but he releases your nipple with a pop, moving lower, his lips brushing your stomach, then the sensitive skin just above your mound. Your pussy aches, slick and ready, and he inhales deeply, smirking up at you.
“Been craving this. Do you know how hard it was pretending to be the perfect boyfriend while I wanted to bend you over that dinner table?” His words send heat flooding through you, and you squirm, thighs trembling.
Finally, he dips his head, tongue flicking out to trace your outer lips, teasing you without mercy. You bite your lip hard, but a soft whine escapes anyway. Wonwoo's eyes snap up, locking on yours as he reaches up and presses his palm flat over your mouth, fingers splaying across your cheeks. The pressure is firm, muffling any sound, his skin warm and slightly calloused against your lips.
“Quiet now,” he commands, voice a low rumble. “Or I'll stop.”
You nod frantically under his hand, eyes pleading, and he rewards you by flattening his tongue against your clit. The sensation hits like lightning—wet, hot pressure that makes your hips buck. He holds you down with his free arm across your waist, his mouth working you relentlessly. His tongue circles your clit, then dips lower to push inside you, tasting your arousal with hungry laps.
“Fuck, you taste perfect,” he whispers against your skin, the words vibrating through your core. His hand stays sealed over your mouth, thumb stroking your cheek in contrast to the dominance. “So wet, dripping for me. My good little slut, creaming on my tongue while your parents’ sleep.”
The dirty praise seeps into your veins, making you clench around nothing, your body betraying how much you need him. He sucks your clit into his mouth, then soothes with broad licks that have you writhing below him.
Your hands fist the sheets, knuckles white, as waves of pleasure build. He hums in approval, the sound sending vibrations straight to your nerves. He pushes one finger into your pussy slowly, aiming to hit that spot that makes your toes curl. You moan into his palm, the sound trapped and desperate, tears pricking your eyes from the intensity.
“That's it, baby,” he breathes, pulling back just enough to speak, his lips glistening with your juices. “Squeezing me already. You love this, don't you?”
He adds a second finger, thrusting them in and out while his tongue returns to your clit, flicking rapidly. His hand over your mouth tightens slightly when you get too loud, a warning press.
He devours you methodically, tongue lapping at your folds, sucking your clit until it's swollen and throbbing. His fingers pump faster, scissoring inside you, stretching your walls as your arousal coats his hand. You can hear the wet sounds—slurps and squelches that seem deafening in the quiet room—and it mortifies you, cheeks flushing under his grip. What if they hear that? But Wonwoo doesn't care; he groans into your pussy, the vibration making you shudder.
“Come on, soak my face,” he whispers, voice muffled against you. “I want to feel my girl gush for me.”
The praise pushes you closer, your body coiling like a spring. He senses it, increasing the pace—tongue swirling, fingers crooking relentlessly against your g-spot. Your thighs quake around his head, trying to close, but he shoves them wider with his shoulders, burying his face deeper. The orgasm crashes over you, your pussy clenching hard around his fingers, juices flooding his tongue. You scream into his hand, the sound absorbed by his skin, body convulsing in silent ecstasy.
Wonwoo doesn't stop, licking you through it, drawing out every tremor until you're oversensitive and twitching. Only then does he ease back, removing his hand from your mouth slowly, letting you gasp for air. His chin drips with your release, and he wipes it with the back of his hand, smirking down at your wrecked form.
“See? Kept you quiet just fine.” Wonwoo eases his fingers out of your pussy with a wet pop, the sound obscene in the hushed room, leaving you clenching around emptiness.
Your body still hums from the orgasm, thighs slick and trembling, but the anxiety hasn't fully faded—but he's not done. His eyes darken as he unties his sweatpants.
“Now, turn over. I need to fuck you.” The aftershocks of pleasure make you compliant, rolling onto your stomach as his cock springs free, thick and hard, and he rubs the head against your soaked entrance. “Gonna fill this sweet pussy up,” he growls.
You whimper, face half-buried in the pillow, the soft cotton muffling the sound, but he tugs your head up just enough to expose your face. His free hand snakes around, fingers brushing your lips before clamping over your mouth from the side, palm sealing tight. “No noise, remember? Or do you want Mommy and Daddy to see what a slut their good girl really is?”
The words send a fresh wave of heat through you, shame and desire twisting together as you nod against his grip. His cock nudges your entrance, thick head parting your lips, and he pushes in slowly at first, inch by inch, stretching your walls with that familiar burn.
Unprotected, raw—you feel every ridge, every vein as he sinks deeper, bottoming out with a low groan that vibrates against your back. His hips flush against your ass, he stills for a moment, letting you adjust, his breath hot on your shoulder.
“Fuck,” he whispers, lips grazing your ear, his hand firm over your mouth to catch any gasp. “Like this cunt was made for me.”
He starts moving then, pulling out halfway before thrusting back in, the motion deliberate, controlled. You push back against him instinctively, meeting his thrusts, the slap of skin on skin growing louder despite your efforts to stay quiet. His hand muffles your moans, fingers digging into your cheek just enough to sting, a reminder of his control.
“That's it,” he growls softly, pace quickening.
He punctuates each thrust, his cock plunging deeper, the head brushing that sensitive spot inside you that makes you see stars. Your arms tremble, elbows buckling as pleasure builds again, coiling tight in your core. The fullness of him has arousal trickling down your thighs.
He notices, chuckling darkly against your neck. “So wet, you’re creaming all over my cock.”
You try to respond, but it comes out as a desperate whine into his palm, tongue pressing against his skin. He rewards you by reaching around and rubbing your clit. The dual sensation—his thick shaft filling you, the friction on your swollen nub—has your body seizing, walls fluttering around him.
His hand over your mouth tightens when a louder moan builds, and Wonwoo tilts your head back, exposing your throat. He bites down there lightly, teeth grazing, then sucks another mark that'll need covering tomorrow.
His roughness pushes you over the edge, your orgasm ripping through you without warning. Your pussy spasms around his cock, sucking him in further as waves of ecstasy crash over you, thighs quaking. You cry out into his hand, the sound trapped and vibrating against his skin, body arching as you grind back, chasing every pulse. Wonwoo groans low, thrusts turning erratic, chasing his own release.
“Fuck, yes—take it all,” he hisses, burying himself deep one last time. His cock throbs inside you, hot spurts of cum flooding your walls, painting you from the inside as he grinds against your ass, prolonging it.
His hand slips from your mouth slowly, letting you suck in air, lips tingling. He pulls out with a slick sound, watching his cum start to drip from your pussy, a satisfied smirk on his face.
“Look at that mess. My dirty girl, full of me. Better keep it in—don't want to stain your sheets.”
summary: san has always expressed his love for you, but you’ve always kept him in that painful friend zone. one night, he’s over waiting. he has to touch you…claim you…and too bad you’ll be too knocked out to reject him.
a/n: this is fanfiction. fiction made by a fan, so please do not take this seriously. this in no way whatsoever represents San or Ateez at all. if anyone was to express discomfort, this would be deleted. this story contains many triggers, so please heed the warnings before reading. thank you!
______
san has never been the best at hiding his feelings, because he’s simply just too blunt. the amount of times he’s told you he liked loved you, exceeds the amount of times a person can blink in one minute. san has been your friend for years…you met him at a 7/11 back when he was a trainee, and he’s been attached to you like a leech. a quiet, goofy, nasty, leech who has been pining after you since then.
the way you see san is like a dog, to be honest. he has like zero thoughts in his head, except food, cuddling tackling, sleeping, playing games, and of course…wanting you. you loved him, seriously, you did. you’ve been to his shows, you could see the appeal, but you couldn’t see him the way he wanted you to see him. that’s what his hundreds of thousands of fans were for.
“were you even listening to me?” you scoffed, snapping your finger in front of san’s face. you were both sitting on the couch of his dorm with wooyoung, who was at his parents for the weekend. his legs criss-crossed in front of him, leaning against the armrest of the couch, while you got all in his space and put your legs in his lap. you’ve been ranting about a coworker at work for the last 5 minutes, but he just stared at you, practically unblinking. at one point, his hands were absentmindedly massaging your sock clad feet, but eventually he stopped the movement, seemingly lost in his mind again. or maybe he wasn’t thinking at all, who knows.
he jerked his head back at the snap, and blinked a few times to get the dryness out of them. then he gave you a sheepish grin, one that implied he definitely was not listening to you.
you sighed, shifting your legs to swing off his lap, but then you heard it. a low, pitiful, whine coming from the man next to you. his arms gripped your legs and forced them to stay in his lap, eyes pleading for you to not move.
you rolled your eyes, a small smile on your lips as you leaned back against the armrest.
“whatever,” you said, grabbing your phone next to your lap, missing san’s adorable dimpled smile and hearts in his eyes.
“oh our food is here, you wanna get it?” you asked, seeing the notification on your phone.
he nodded, already missing your warmth, and he gently lifted your feet so he could slide out from under them, and place them back on the couch. as he left to go to the door, you remained on your phone, scrolling through the few messages from your twitter group chat. it was funny how you haven’t told them that you were best friends with their favorite idol. they probably wouldn’t believe you, anyways.
as san grabbed the bag of food and went to the kitchen to grab cutlery, some paper towels and a few sojus to wash the food down, he looked over at you. the side of your face was leaning against the back of the couch, cheeks pressed against it, and eyes lidded. you looked almost asleep. something fluttered in san’s chest and he felt warm seeing you on his couch, in his clothes, looking so peaceful. so domestic. like you belonged there with him.
‘you do,’ his brain supplied helpfully.
his heart started thudding loudly as a small voice in his head told him to claim you tonight, and this was his chance. he blinked, carefully watching your form as he reached for the cabinet with all his medicine in it. without taking his eyes off you, he blindly found the pack of heavy duty sleeping pills he saved for emergency sleep aid (like for when he needed to sleep before tour, but he was too excited to sleep.)
he unscrewed the soju bottles and put a pill in the peach flavored soju, your favorite. it dissolved after a few seconds, and san stared in disbelief that he actually had done it. shaking his head, and walking over, he could hear his heart pounding so loud, he wouldn’t be surprised if you could hear it. his palms felt sweaty, and he prayed you couldn’t tell as you eyed the peach soju and snatched it out of his hand.
“dibs on peach,” you said, smiling and quickly taking a swig.
“hey, i wanted to drink at the same time,” san protested playfully, plopping down on the couch with a slight thud, “slow down alcoholic.”
you rolled your eyes, elbowing him in the arm lightly, and he laughed.
he fidgeted with the remote as you opened the bag to start eating. he clicked on a nature documentary…something he knew would knock you out.
“eughh, san, why would you put this on?” you scrunched your face, about to take a bite of fried chicken.
he stammered out an excuse…something about being interested in…bunnies? yeah i guess he was interested in bunnies.
you mumbled, too interested in the chicken and tteokbokki to argue. he discreetly let out a sigh of relief. out of the corner of his eye, he watched you. his heart pounded every time you sipped on your soju. he watched the sauce from the tteokbokki slide down the corner of your mouth, and he watched your small tongue dart out to lick it off. he felt his body twitch when you let out a small mmm of appreciation when you finished eating. san had only managed to eat a few pieces of chicken by the time you were done eating, and you were almost done with the bottle. san’s strawberry soju was not even halfway done..he didn’t wanna be drunk tonight. he also really couldn’t focus on more than two things at once. you took up all the space in his brain.
then he heard you yawn, stifling it behind your san’s sleeve. he turned his head to fully look at you.
“are you tired?” he asked lowly, leaning forward to start cleaning up.
you nodded, eyes heavy and face adorably pouty. he told you to go get ready for bed, and that he’d clean up. as soon as you were in the bathroom, san cleaned up urgently, fingers itching to be on you. his mind ran at 100 miles an hour at the thought of what was to come. he was excited, anxious, and unbearably horny. his sweats did nothing to hide his need for you, but luckily, you were too tired to notice.
he found you passed out on his bed, stripped down to just his sweatshirt and your underwear, collapsed on top of the covers. you were laid on your back, sprawled out like it was your own bed.
‘our bed’ his mind unhelpfully supplied.
he ran to his bathroom, and quickly brushed his teeth and took a piss before he snuck back to his room. the room was completely dark, but his eyes adjusted quickly and he made his way over to the bed, slowly crawling on. he nudged you gently, making you lay on your side, and his heart relaxed when you settled into your new position without waking. then he curled himself around you like a cat, so his chest was against your back, and his arm wrapped around your waist. his non-existent tail curled around your leg protectively and contently.
san took a deep inhale, burying his nose in the crook of your neck. at the scent of you, he moaned, arm tightening around you and cock chubbing in his pants. you smelled so fucking good…like warm sugar and peach soju…he immediately grew addicted and wanted to see if you tasted as good as you smelled. at that thought, he stuck his tongue out and licked a stripe up your neck, moaning softly at the taste of your skin, slightly salty, under his tongue. you didn’t stir.
getting impatient, san’s hand around your waist started traveling lower, and he dipped his fingers under the waistband of your underwear. his other hand underneath your side curled to rest on your exposed belly, as he pushed the sweatshirt up. his heart lurched dangerously as his thick fingers brushed your pussy; wet, warm, and all for him.
his eyes rolled to the back of his head…immediately sliding his fingers up and down your folds, collecting wetness and circling your clit. you let out a sleepy moan and you arched into him, making san feel feral. he slipped two fingers into your heat, hips jerking into your ass as you clenched around him. you felt so good around his fingers, he felt embarrassingly close to cumming at just the thought of you around his cock. his other hand started to fondle your chest, rolling your nipple in between his pointer and middle finger. as he fingered you, he nibbled and sucked at your neck, groaning into your skin. the pressure in his sweats was agonizing, a painful reminder of how long he’d starved himself of this. he was whining now…pathetic, broken sounds that he didn’t even try to stifle because the sleeping pills had completely knocked you out.
"you’re so perfect," he whimpered against your jaw, his teeth grazing the skin. "why don’t you love me back? don’t you know how bad i need you?"
his fingers inside you were relentless, hooking deep and curling to find the sensitive spots he’d only dreamed of finding in you. he was messy with it, his rhythm uncoordinated because he was shaking so hard. he didn’t stop his movements until you tensed up, walls clamped around his fingers, and you slicked his hand so much it made his head spin. he pulled his hand back, rubbing his two fingers over your bottom lip, forcing his thumb into your mouth to taste yourself. then, after sufficiently coating his fingers in your slick and saliva, he brought it to his own mouth, licking and slurping messily around his own digits. his eyes rolled to the back of his head at your taste.
"i’m sorry," he whispered, though his eyes were dark with a hunger that said otherwise. "i’m so sorry, but I can't stop. please don’t hate me. please."
he couldn't take the barrier of his clothes anymore. with fumbled, desperate movements, he kicked his sweats and boxers off, his cock sprung free, aching and leaking at the tip. he then shimmied your his sweatshirt off, almost laughing at your lack of response. as soon as your ruined panties came off, he didn't even wait. he gripped your hip, almost bruising the skin with the force of his hold, and rolled you onto your back. your legs flopped open bonelessly, and san let out a choked, hiccuping breath at the sight of you completely exposed under him in the moonlight.
he positioned himself, the head of his length catching on your wet entrance. he was so achingly hard, he felt like he was going to die.
"please, please, please, i’m sorry i’m sorry i’m so so sorry," he chanted, a rambled mantra of desperation. he sank into you in one heavy, uncoordinated thrust.
the friction was overwhelming. he let out a loud, high-pitched sob into the crook of your neck, his entire body seizing as he buried himself to the hilt. you were so tight, so much smaller than he’d imagined, and the way your body just accepted him without a fight made him feel a sickening sense of triumph. he always knew you belonged to him. even your body said so.
he began to hammer into you, his movements frantic and lacking any grace.
his sweat dripped onto your collarbone with every thrust. his eyes darted all over your form. your open mouthed slack face, eyes closed, furrowed brows…your breasts that moved with his movement…your beautiful hair that spread around his pillow like a halo. you were so beautiful. he felt like an ugly monster in comparison. he swallowed his insecurities and started crying again.
"look at me," he begged, even though he knew your eyes wouldn't open. "look at what you're doing to me. i'm so pathetic for you. i'm so gross."
he started to spiral, the friction bringing him to the edge too fast. he didn't want it to end, but he was too weak to hold back. he gripped your hair, pulling your head back to expose your throat, and began to bite at your skin, marking you everywhere. tears and saliva coating your neck, like a mutt. he wanted the other members to see the bruises tomorrow. he didn’t even care that you’d wake up and know what he did…not after he’s finally claimed you.
"i'm the only one," he gasped, his thrusts becoming short and shallow as his climax hit him like a tidal wave. "fuck oh my god, fuck."
he came with a violent shudder, his back arching as he poured himself into you, his fingers digging into your thighs so hard he knew there would be handprints tomorrow.
he collapsed on top of you, a sweaty, sobbing mess, his face buried in your chest as he waited for his heart to stop trying to leap out of his throat.
he stayed inside you, twitching, feeling the way your insides rhythmically pulsed against him in your deep sleep. he felt on top of the world… he also felt like a criminal. but as he drifted off into a deep, satisfied sleep, his last thought was that he’d do it all over again the second he woke up. you were his now, and he was never going to let the world have you again.
a/n: if there are any mistakes, it’s cuz i wrote this for a different fandom and changed the names cuz i pussied out on posting it to that fandom. enjoy this yandere san smut, ig!
Could you do a non-idol roommate smut fic with Scoups and San? Maybe have y/n see them working out in their home gym, masturbate in her room when she thinks they're not home, and have them confront her about it later? I dunno, just something that popped into my head
Two baddies (Choi) one Porsche
Pairing: San x reader x seungcheol
Modern non-idol au, roomates au, smut
Wc:~3.5k
Warnings: threesome mmf, voyeurism, masturbation after spying on them working out, getting caught, oral (m and f receiving), creampie, multiple orgasms, polyamorous relationship, embarassment
A/N: i loooooove this! I love the plot and i loved writing it !
You pushed open the front door of the apartment with a tired sigh, the strap of your work bag sliding down your shoulder. It was barely past 5 PM, much earlier than your usual 7 or 8 o’clock return, but the meeting had been canceled last minute and you weren’t about to complain about a rare free evening. The apartment was quiet at first glance, the living room lights dimmed, but a low, rhythmic bass pulsed from somewhere deeper inside. Then you heard it: the unmistakable metallic clang of weights, followed by a deep grunt of effort.
Your heart skipped. San and Seungcheol were supposed to be at the gym downtown tonight. That’s what they’d texted in the group chat this morning. "Heading out for legs and back, don’t wait up." Yet the sounds were clearly coming from the spare room you three had converted into a home gym six months ago.
Curiosity tugged at you stronger than exhaustion. You kicked off your heels by the door, leaving them in a small heap and padded silently down the hallway in your stockings. The gym door was ajar, just a few inches, enough for a slice of warm light and the scent of sweat to escape. You shouldn’t peek. You knew you shouldn’t. But the pull was magnetic.
You stopped just outside, pressing your back to the wall and tilted your head to look through the gap.
The sight hit you like a physical force. San hung from the pull-up bar, back facing you, muscles rippling under golden skin as he lifted his entire body with controlled power. His black workout shorts rode low on his hips, revealing the deep dimples at the base of his spine and the sculpted curve of his ass. Every rep made his lats flare wide, traps and deltoids bunching into sharp definition. Sweat traced glistening paths down his spine, catching the light. When he lowered himself, you could see the way his biceps and forearms corded, veins prominent from the pump.
A few feet away, Seungcheol lay on the bench press, unracking the bar with a low exhale. His chest and shoulders were massive, stretching the limits of his already tight skin. The gray tank top he wore was soaked through, clinging to every ridge of his abs as he pressed the heavy weight up. His thighs, thick and powerful in black compression shorts, planted firmly on the floor for stability. Each press came with a deep, guttural sound that vibrated straight through your core.
They were beautiful. Lethally so.
You’d lived with them for over a year now, three roommates who somehow made cohabitation feel effortless. San, with his playful energy and mischievous smiles, always teasing you about your coffee addiction. Seungcheol, the steady, protective type, who made sure the bills were paid on time and cooked protein-heavy dinners that somehow always included your favorites. You’d crushed on them individually in secret, then together in guilty fantasies you never dared voice. But seeing them like this: raw, primal, bodies honed by hours of discipline, ignited something fierce and immediate.
Heat bloomed low in your belly. Your thighs pressed together instinctively as you watched San drop from the bar and shake out his arms, chest heaving. He turned slightly, giving you a profile view of his abs contracting with each breath. Seungcheol sat up on the bench, wiping his face with the hem of his tank before peeling it off entirely, revealing miles of smooth, sweat-slicked muscle.
You bit your lip hard. Your nipples tightened against the lace of your bra and a slick warmth gathered between your legs. This was dangerous. You needed to back away, go to your room, pretend you’d seen nothing. But your feet stayed rooted, eyes devouring every detail: the way San’s hand casually adjusted himself in his shorts, the flex of Seungcheol’s biceps as he reached for his water bottle, the low conversation they shared about increasing weights next set.
San laughed at something Seungcheol said, the sound rich and carefree and it sent another pulse of arousal through you. You imagined those hands on your skin, those voices murmuring your name in darker tones.
A soft, involuntary sound escaped your throat. You froze. Neither man looked toward the door. The music, something heavy with bass, probably covered it. Still, panic and need warred inside you. You backed away slowly, heart hammering and slipped into your bedroom at the end of the hall. The door clicked shut behind you. You locked it with trembling fingers.
The room felt too warm. You leaned against the door for a moment, eyes closed, trying to steady your breathing. It didn’t work. The images were burned behind your eyelids: San’s back, Seungcheol’s chest, the sheen of sweat, the raw power. Your hand drifted down before you could stop it, pressing over your skirt against the ache between your thighs.
"Fuck" you whispered.
You kicked off your stockings and skirt, leaving them pooled on the floor. Your blouse followed, then your bra. Clad only in damp panties, you climbed onto your bed and lay back against the pillows. The apartment’s sounds were muffled here, but you could still faintly hear the music and occasional clank. They were still working out. They wouldn’t be done for a while. You were safe.
Your hand slipped beneath the waistband of your panties. You were soaked already, fingers gliding easily over your swollen clit. A sharp gasp left you as you circled it slowly at first, teasing. In your mind, it wasn’t your hand.
It was San’s.
You pictured him fresh from the pull-up bar, kneeling between your spread thighs, sweat still dripping from his hair onto your stomach as his skilled fingers worked you open. "Been thinking about this, haven’t you?" his voice would rumble, dark and teasing like when he joked around the kitchen island. Two thick fingers would push inside you while his thumb pressed perfect circles on your clit.
Your own fingers mimicked the fantasy, dipping lower to slide one, then two inside your aching pussy. You moaned softly, hips rolling up to meet your hand.
Seungcheol appeared in the daydream next, standing behind San, watching with that intense gaze of his. He’d grip San’s shoulder, then reach for you, large palm covering your breast, pinching your nipple just hard enough to make you cry out. "So pretty when you’re desperate" he’d murmur, voice low and commanding, the same tone he used when organizing their workout schedules or settling apartment disputes.
You added a third finger, stretching yourself, the wet sounds obscene in the quiet room. Your other hand moved to your chest, rolling a stiff nipple between thumb and forefinger. Pleasure coiled tighter in your core. You imagined them both shirtless still, bodies pressed close, taking turns tasting you. San’s tongue replacing your fingers: eager, almost playful, licking broad stripes before sucking your clit between his lips. Seungcheol kissing you deeply, swallowing your moans while his hand guided San’s head.
"Oh god…" The words slipped out louder than intended. You turned your face into the pillow to muffle the next moan as you pumped your fingers faster, curling them against that sensitive spot inside.
The fantasy shifted. Now Seungcheol was between your legs, his massive shoulders holding your thighs apart while San knelt beside you, feeding his cock past your lips. You’d seen the outline of them both through their shorts enough times to imagine accurately: thick, heavy, San slightly longer with a slight upward curve, Seungcheol girthy enough to make your jaw ache. You sucked greedily in the daydream, hollowing your cheeks while Seungcheol fucked you with deep, powerful strokes that matched his bench press rhythm.
Your hips bucked off the bed. The coil wound impossibly tight. Sweat beaded on your own skin now, mirroring theirs. You rubbed your clit frantically with the heel of your hand while your fingers thrust deep.
"Come for us" imaginary San whispered against your ear.
That did it.
The orgasm slammed into you hard. Your walls clenched rhythmically around your fingers, thighs trembling violently. A broken cry tore from your throat, muffled by the pillow as wave after wave crashed over you. You kept rubbing through it, drawing it out until it bordered on too much, vision whiting out for a few blissful seconds.
You lay there afterward, chest heaving, fingers still buried inside your pulsing heat. A lazy, satisfied smile curved your lips. The guilt was there, faint but present: you’d just gotten off hard to your roommates, but the relief outweighed it. They’d never know. They were still in the gym, probably finishing up their sets, completely oblivious.
Or so you thought.
Unbeknownst to you, the music had stopped a minute earlier. The gym door had been left wider than you realized when you first peeked. And the large mirror on the opposite wall had given both men a perfect, unobstructed view of you hurrying down the hall, flushed and distracted, right after they’d spotted your reflection watching them.
They hadn’t followed immediately. They’d finished their workout in charged silence, exchanging heavy looks but saying little. The air between them crackled with new possibility.
In your room, you finally withdrew your hand, and reached for your phone to check the time. Still early. Plenty of time to shower and act normal.
The living room lights were dimmed to a warm amber glow when you finally emerged from your room, freshly showered and dressed in an oversized hoodie and soft shorts. Your hair was still slightly damp and you’d tried to compose yourself: neutral expression, casual demeanor, as if you hadn’t spent the better part of an hour replaying the image of your shirtless roommates while fingering yourself to completion. The apartment smelled faintly of the stir-fry Seungcheol had apparently thrown together while you were hiding. Music played low from the television: some R&B playlist they both liked.
San and Seungcheol were already on the sectional couch. San lounged in the corner, legs spread comfortably in gray sweatpants and a black tank top that did little to hide the definition of his shoulders. Seungcheol sat more upright on the other end, wearing a loose white tee and black shorts, one arm draped along the back of the couch. They both looked relaxed. Too relaxed.
You hesitated in the doorway. Something in the air felt charged, heavier than usual.
"Hey" you said, aiming for normalcy as you padded toward the kitchen island. "Smells good. You guys ate already?"
Seungcheol’s deep voice answered first. "Saved you a plate. It’s in the microwave." His tone was calm, almost too even. "Come sit with us first."
Your stomach flipped. You glanced at San. He was watching you with those sharp, cat-like eyes, the corner of his mouth curved in a small, knowing smile. Not his usual playful one. This one carried heat.
You grabbed a water bottle instead of the food and slowly walked over, perching on the middle cushion between them. The couch felt smaller than usual. Their body heat radiated toward you: San’s leg brushing yours, Seungcheol’s arm still stretched behind your shoulders.
For a minute, the three of you watched the muted music video on screen. The silence stretched.
Then Seungcheol spoke. "We saw you watching us earlier."
Your heart slammed against your ribs. The water bottle nearly slipped from your fingers. You turned your head toward him, eyes wide. "What?"
San shifted closer on your other side, his knee pressing firmly against yours now. "In the gym. Door was open. You stood there for a while." His voice was low, almost a purr. "Could see how you were looking at us."
Heat flooded your face instantly. Embarrassment burned down your neck and across your chest. You opened your mouth to deny it, but the words died when Seungcheol continued. "And then we saw you go to your room." He leaned in slightly, his presence overwhelming. "Heard you too. The walls aren’t that thick, baby."
Baby. The pet name landed like a spark on dry tinder. You wanted the couch to swallow you whole. Your mind raced through excuses, maybe they were mistaken, maybe it was something else, but the evidence was damning. You’d been loud. You’d been desperate.
"I… I didn’t know you were home" you whispered, voice cracking. "You said you were going to the gym downtown. I came back early an..."
San’s hand landed gently on your thigh, just above your knee. Warm. Steady. "We changed plans. Decided to use the home gym instead." His thumb stroked a slow circle on your skin. "Didn’t expect to catch you staring like that. Like you wanted to eat us alive."
You squeezed your eyes shut, mortified. "God, this is so embarrassing. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have...I’ll just…"
Seungcheol’s fingers brushed the back of your neck, sliding into your damp hair. He turned your face toward him. His gaze was dark, intense, but not angry. Hungry. "Don’t apologize. We’re not mad."
San’s hand slid higher up your thigh, slipping under the hem of your shorts just an inch. "We’ve been wanting you for months, you know. Both of us. Tried to keep it respectful since we’re roommates, but fuck… hearing you moan like that?" He exhaled sharply. "Nearly lost it right there in the gym."
Your breath hitched. This couldn’t be real. You’d fantasized about this exact scenario earlier today and now it was unfolding in the living room. "You… both of you?"
Seungcheol nodded, his thumb tracing your jaw. "Both of us. We’ve talked about it. A lot." He leaned in until his lips were inches from yours. "Question is… do you want this? Want us?"
The air felt electric. Your pulse thundered in your ears. Every rational thought screamed that this could complicate the roommate dynamic beyond repair. But your body, still sensitive from your earlier orgasm, still aching for more, overruled everything.
"Yes" you breathed. "I want you. Both of you."
The words barely left your lips before Seungcheol closed the distance. His kiss was firm, commanding, lips warm and sure as they moved against yours. One large hand cupped your cheek while the other stayed tangled in your hair. He tasted like the mint from his post-workout drink and when his tongue swept into your mouth you moaned softly, melting into him.
San didn’t stay idle. His mouth found the side of your neck, kissing and nipping at the sensitive skin while his hand boldly slid higher, fingers brushing the edge of your panties. "So fucking pretty" he murmured against your pulse point. "Been thinking about this for so long."
Seungcheol pulled back just enough to let you catch your breath, then San turned your face toward him and claimed your mouth in a deeper, more playful kiss. His tongue teased yours, coaxing you into a rhythm that made your toes curl. While he kissed you, Seungcheol’s hands roamed, sliding under your hoodie, palms broad and warm against your bare waist, thumbs stroking the undersides of your breasts.
You whimpered into San’s mouth when Seungcheol pinched one nipple lightly.
"Bedroom?" San asked against your lips, voice husky.
"Too far" Seungcheol answered. "Couch is fine tonight."
They moved with practiced coordination, as if they’d imagined this together many times. Your hoodie came off first, tossed aside. San peeled your shorts and panties down your legs in one smooth motion. Suddenly you were naked between them, skin flushed and breathing ragged. They drank in the sight of you, San’s eyes dark with lust, Seungcheol’s jaw clenched with restraint.
"Beautiful" Seungcheol murmured. He guided you to lie back against the cushions, spreading your thighs. San settled between them first, pressing open-mouthed kisses up your inner thigh. When his tongue dragged slowly through your folds, you cried out, back arching.
"Already so wet" San groaned, the vibration sending sparks up your spine. He licked you with enthusiasm: broad, flat strokes followed by focused flicks on your clit, then dipping inside you. Two fingers joined soon after, curling perfectly while he sucked your clit between his lips.
Seungcheol knelt beside your head, stroking your hair. He pulled his shirt off, revealing the powerful chest you’d watched earlier. "Open for me, baby." You turned your head eagerly, taking his thick cock into your mouth as he freed it from his shorts. He was heavy on your tongue, stretching your lips. You hollowed your cheeks, sucking him deeper while San devoured your pussy.
The dual sensations were overwhelming. Pleasure built fast: San’s talented mouth and fingers driving you toward the edge while Seungcheol fucked your mouth in shallow, controlled thrusts, praising you in that low, steady voice.
"That’s it… taking us so well. Look at you, our pretty roommate."
You came hard the first time with San’s fingers buried deep and his tongue relentless on your clit. Your moan vibrated around Seungcheol’s cock, making him groan and thrust a little deeper.
They switched after that. Seungcheol took his turn between your legs, his shoulders holding your thighs wide as he ate you with more intensity: long, deep licks and powerful suction that had you shaking. San knelt by your head, feeding you his cock. He was longer, curved and he tangled his fingers in your hair, moaning your name as you sucked him eagerly.
"Fuck, your mouth feels even better than I imagined" San panted.
You lost track of how many times they brought you to the edge. They were patient, thorough, worshipping every inch of you with hands and mouths until you were a trembling, oversensitive mess, begging incoherently.
"Please… need you inside me" you finally gasped when Seungcheol pulled back from your clit, lips shiny with your arousal.
They didn’t make you wait long.
San sat on the couch and pulled you onto his lap, facing away from him. You sank down onto his cock slowly, moaning loudly at the stretch. He was thick enough to make your eyes water in the best way. Once fully seated, he wrapped an arm around your waist and kissed your shoulder. "Good girl. Feel so perfect."
Seungcheol stood in front of you, stroking himself as he watched you ride San for a minute. Then he stepped closer, guiding his cock back into your mouth. You were completely filled: San thrusting up into your pussy while Seungcheol fucked your throat in sync. Their hands roamed everywhere: San’s fingers on your clit, Seungcheol’s on your breasts, both of them groaning praises and filthy words that made your head spin.
The pace quickened. San’s hips snapped up harder, hitting that perfect spot inside you with every thrust. Seungcheol’s hand tightened gently in your hair. The sounds in the living room were obscene: skin slapping skin, wet slurping, your muffled moans, their deep grunts.
You came again like that, clamped around San’s cock while Seungcheol was buried in your mouth. The orgasm tore through you violently, vision blurring, body shaking between them.
San followed soon after, burying himself deep and spilling inside you with a broken moan of your name. Seungcheol pulled out of your mouth and stroked himself fast, painting your chest and breasts with hot streaks of cum moments later.
For a long minute, the only sounds were heavy breathing and the low music still playing from the TV.
They took care of you immediately. San lifted you gently off his lap and laid you down on the couch while Seungcheol disappeared to the bathroom, returning with warm, damp towels. They cleaned you thoroughly: soft touches, gentle kisses on your thighs, your stomach, your forehead. San fetched you a fresh hoodie (his own, smelling like him) while Seungcheol brought water and a small plate of the stir-fry.
You ended up curled between them again, this time under a soft blanket. San’s arm was around your waist, Seungcheol’s fingers tracing lazy patterns on your thigh.
"So…" you started, voice hoarse but content. "Roommates with benefits?"
Seungcheol chuckled, deep and warm. "More than that. We’ve wanted this for a long time. Not just sex."
San nuzzled into your neck. "We’re yours. You’re ours. We’ll figure out the details tomorrow. Tonight, just stay here with us."
You smiled, exhaustion and satisfaction settling deep in your bones. As their warmth surrounded you and the TV flickered softly, you let yourself relax completely between the two men who had just ruined you for anyone else. The new dynamic as roommates was definitely, blissfully, changed for good.
Bonus: me when i read that request with that crossover sent from heaven
cw: smut, dubcon (drunk!afab!you x predator!jaehyun).
a/n: this is strictly my own dark fantasy. i'm not condoning this in reality.
summary: your friends left you in the care of goody-two shoes jaehyun, thinking you'd be safe with him. you're weren't.
word count: 2k
i want to fuck her so bad.
jaehyun’s eyes trail across your body, searing each minute detail into his mind: your pink lips so plump and full, the curve of your waist leading down to your full ass, and the sight of your white lacey panties peaking out from under your hiked-up skirt.
he reminds himself of why you’re even in his bed. your friends had entrusted you to him at a party only because he is the always-responsible, honest and reliable, stand-up student council president. he’s the guy that everyone trusts. i’m a good guy. i’m a good guy. i’m a good guy.
but it who was he kidding? nothing about this situation speaks to his good nature. not his aching dick tenting up his pants, nor the explicit thoughts running through his mind.
i’m a good guy.
“heeeeeelloooooo,” you said before a half-hiccup-half-burp.
“i’m right here,” he replies.
“jaehyunnnnnnnn,” you giggle, “what are – hic – what are you doing hereeeeee?”
jaehyun reins in his thoughts of how you’re so completely out of it that you’d wouldn’t even remember anything if he were to do anything.
“you’re in my room,” he finally musters, “you’ve had a little too much to drink.”
“oh,” is all you say.
i’m a good guy.
that last reminder is rendered useless when you, in your drunken state, decides to make yourself more comfortable by spreading your legs wide open, not the least aware of the predator lurking just a few feet away.
his brain shortcircuits when he sees, between your parted legs, your panties, so thin that he can almost make out the outline of your pussy. the last shred of self-control jaehyun had evaporates.
fuck it.
he sits himself down at the foot of his bed and lifts your skirt over your torso. his hand shakes as it approaches your clothed pussy.
you can still turn around. you still haven’t technically done anything.
when his fingers finally make contact with your pussy, he swears he feels a jolt of electricity going straight down to his dick. no turning back now. his index and middle fingers move in circles—careful at first, then settling into a steady rhythm around your clit.
you don’t react immediately and it lulls jaehyun into a false sense of security. he almost jumps when you speak.
“jae – hic –hyun? wh… what are you doing?”
it takes a moment for jaehyun to steel his nerves. he tries to ignore your question, unsure how or what to answer. it’s his first time doing… this. what was he supposed to reply to you.
“s-stop… it feels – hic – weird.”
this time he’s sure he can’t just pretend you didn’t say anything. his brain rummages through an appropriate response.
coercion’s the only thing that comes to mind. “shhh, just… just enjoy this, yeah? i’ll make you feel real good.”
you don’t answer.
his fingers continue moving against your clit, but it doesn’t take long for your next protest to come.
“s-stop… it feels…” you trail off.
“good right?” jaehyun finishes your sentence. “this feels nice?”
“mmh,” you hum back.
“yeah? you like this? like it when i do…” he says, trailing his fingers down your slit with pressure, “this?”
the wet patch in your panties spread and jaehyun can’t believe his eyes. you’re actually getting turned on by his touch. if he is a pervert, he wagers that you’re one too. fucking slut.
you gasp at his touch, then shake your head, “nooooo. i –hic– just now…”
jaehyun doesn’t need to be told twice; his fingers return quickly to your swollen clit. he likes it that you’re honest.
i need to fuck her brains out.
your soft gasps melting into whines and moans bolsters his ego and encourages him in this endeavour. he leans down against your panties and his tongue licks a strip down your slit, ending at your clit. the taste of you through your panties whets his appetite.
when he finally pulls off your panties, he’s shocked at how fucking drenched you are. he presses his face flush with your pussy and swirls his tongue around your clit. your thighs tremble at his touch. whimpers and incoherent thoughts fall out of your lips.
“baby girl, you taste so fucking sweet,” he murmurs against you before dipping his tongue back into you.
your hips buck as you squirm against him. your hands reach out to grab something, anything, only able to reach the sheets besides you. jaehyun can tell that you’re close. something evil glints in his eyes.
“use your words baby girl,” he coos.
he watches from between your legs. your eyes, half-lidded, lips parted and drool spilling over. you look so completely fucked out and he hasn’t done much.
you whine, head spinning too much to string together a coherent thought. all you want is his touch on you.
“use your words,” he says, this time a little more stern.
“w’na… i want… come,” you manage and he smiles like he’s just won a millionaire dollars.
“good girl. good girls get rewarded.”
his lips connect with your core again, this time with a renewed passion: he wants to watch you, taste you, as you fall apart on his tongue. it doesn’t take long for that to happen. your voice reaches a higher pitch, your back arches further into the bed and your entire body tenses.
“coming! coming!” your voice strains.
still jaehyun doesn’t let up. his fingers dig into your hips holding you against his face and preventing you from wriggling out of his grip. even as your hands carelessly swats at his face, trying to push him off, his tongue continues as he wrings out your orgasm.
you get a brief respite when he finally removes himself from between your legs but it’s short-lived. jaehyun’s quick to replace his tongue with two fingers, burying them deep in you.
your body jolts at the sudden intrusion.
“look at you, so… so wet for me. aren’t you a little pervert? getting off to me doing this to you?”
blood rushes to your cheeks and the tops of your ears. you want to protest him, but can’t find the words in your brain – half clouded by the haze of your intense orgasm, half by the alcohol. instead, you find yourself just shaking your head.
he laughs at your measly attempt.
“are you sure?” he says with a false incredulity. “just listen to how wet you are.”
his fingers thrust into your cunt with a greater force, amplifying the sloshing between your legs. even as drunk as you were, you still flush with embarrassment.
“you’re such a good slut for me, aren’t you? so wet and needy,” his tone is condescending, “if i didn’t know any better, i’d think you wanted this.”
you want to fight back at his last sentence, scream at the top of your lungs that it’s not true. you want to defend yourself. but all your stupid mind could think about was how good his fingers fucking you felt.
“n-no…” is all you say. you’re sure it came out as self-assured and defending. yet all jaehyun heard is a soft careless mumble. he would have missed it, if he hadn’t been paying attention.
“no?” he repeats, “oh sweet baby, my sweet dumb baby. how can you say no when you’re clenching so tightly around me? bet you wished this was my cock instead right?”
your mind is hazy and you can’t think straight. you try and try. but all you can think about it pleasure twisting inside of you. you feel it building up, tightening and tightening and you know it’s about to explode. you can’t even remember what was it that you wanted to say.
tears well in your eyes as your whines and whimpers turn into a loud mewl when your orgasm comes crashing down on you. the immense tension all at once releases and your body jolts through every wave of ecstasy crashing through you.
“fuck, didn’t know that my sweet little slut could squirt so much.”
squirt? you’re sure that you’ve never done that before. jaehyun’s fingers leave you and you almost let out a whine at the emptiness between your legs.
in all of jaehyun’s eagerness, he doesn’t bother actually pulling down his boxers or jeans. instead, he just releases his aching, leaking cock from his pants and lines it up with her drenched hole.
you can still turn back.
with a thrust of his hips, he buries himself, and any semblance of rationality, deep within you.
(and really, jaehyun reasons, it’s your fault. you shouldn’t have made such delicious sounds. you shouldn’t have made it so easy. you should have said no, kick him away. but there you lie, halfway asleep, halfway enjoying his touch. which idiot would turn this opportunity away?)
“you’re so fucking… perfect,” he groans, his voice is guttural, rough like concrete. like it’s taking everything in him to not turn into a feral dog, “you’re like my own personal cum dumpster.”
you try to shake your head in protest.
“say it, baby girl. say ‘i’m’...” jaehyun waits for you to repeat after him.
“i-i…”
“i’m,” he repeats again, “my dumb, dumb slut. i know you can do it.”
“i’m,” you say, partly to prove that you’re not dumb like he says; you can still say words. surely that must mean you’re not completely dumb, right?
“your,” jaehyun continues.
“your.”
“cumdumpster.”
“c-c…” this time the words are stuck in your throat as humiliation washes over you.
“my pretty pretty little thing, you can do it,” jaehyun goads in a sickeningly sweet voice.
you swallow, mind hazy from relishing in his praises. “cumdumpster,” you repeat.
he laughs, as he starts moving his hips. whatever words that you could’ve said melts into drawn out whimpers and whines. each thrust gets progressively more impatient. he fucks you like a child opening presents on christmas day: eager and excited.
“fuck, you make me feel like a complete virgin.”
his comment may have made you feel something, if you weren’t so completely dazed. you could focus on all but one thing: the pleasure between your legs. your hips buck against his, angling them so that he hits the spot. and when he does, a long string of incomprehensible words tumble out your lips. for that, you’re awarded with his hand around your throat.
“baby girl’s so fucking dumb she can’t speak properly,” he taunts, “since you can’t say anything that makes sense, then just shut up.”
his grip tightens against the sides of your neck. he cuts off the oxygen and chokes down any sounds back into your throat.
“woah,” a smirk creeps across his face, “you like being choked, don’t you?”
he leans down right beside your ear and whispers like it’s a secret, “your cunt got so fucking tight. slut.”
his words shouldn’t send chills down your spine, but they do.
he starts thrusting into you again, rougher this time. you want to tell him to stop, you want to tell him that you can’t breathe, you want to tell him that he’s hurting your neck. but no words form, though you’re not sure if it’s the orgasm, alcohol or lack of oxygen that’s causing it. it hurts. it hurts. it hurts.
still, it feels like your body betrays you when your orgasm nearly tears you apart. no words or sound form, even when his hand leaves your neck. you heave and draw in the oxygen that your lungs yearned. you’re sure if he had choked you for a second longer, you would have passed out.
he doesn’t give you time to breath or bask in the afterglow, instead choosing to continue his tirade against your uterus. each thrust prolongs your orgasm just a bit more, until your cunt’s so sensitive that each thrust brings fresh tears into your eyes.
“oh-fuck me,” he groans as he frantically pulls himself out of you. his hand jerks his cock a few time before the searing ropes of white cum cover your inner thighs.
the last thing you hear before passing out from sheer exhaustion is jaehyun’s voice whispering in your ear, “good night my pretty slut.”
series warnings: heavy bdsm dynamics, subspace, rules and punishments, kink exploration, eventual romance, heavy/extreme kinks in later chapters. the characters engage in consensual controlling behaviour under the agreement of a 24/7 bdsm dynamic. this story does not represent ateez in any way; i merely use them as muses for my own characters. specific warnings will be in each chapter.
chapter warnings: this is the petplay chapter, so expect everything that entails. puppy play, dehumanisation, slight anal play (use of a tail plug), crawling, degradation, eating out of a dog bowl, psychological play, barking, brief mention of the um… practicalities of anal play (just aiming for realism here). mentioned/threatened whipping.
words: 10.2k
You wake around the same time the next morning, the city still quiet, the traffic and the distant noise of the city just beginning to swell beyond your window.
Your clothes are on the desk, as always—a top and panties and a skirt that’s most likely short enough to expose you when you bend over. You go to the bathroom first, then pull them on, glancing at your phone that you’d left charging next to them on the desk. There’s nothing new, really; just a few posts Maya’s sent you on Instagram.
You’re not particularly interested in what’s on your phone right now, you realise as you scroll through them. Everything you’re interested in is already in the house.
You huff slightly, softly, just enough to feel the cold air brush across your lips. You’re not sure what to do. You don’t hear any of them outside your room; no footsteps in the hall, no voices from downstairs—just silence. A thin silence, unsure, like it doesn’t know how to sit or what to do with itself.
Maybe you’ll go downstairs. Yeah, you could do that. You’ll go downstairs, maybe get a drink, and watch some TV until they come down.
You wrap a blanket around your shoulder, one a thin, loose knit that’s practically see-through You’re not trying to hide yourself, really; it’s just cold air and instinct that has you tugging it over your chest.
San is there on the couch when you shuffle into the living room, already dressed, reading something on his phone and looking up when you walk in. Something in his expression seems to spark and soften at the same time.
“Morning, pretty,” he smiles. “Sleep well?”
“Yeah,” you answer. “Did you?”
“I slept great,” he says. He pauses, hesitating for a moment. For a second, maybe two, he just looks at you; silent, a little scrutinising, like there’s something he’s trying to gauge. Something he’s trying to understand. Then his face evens out, calms, like a mess of laundry now folded into neat piles, and his smile widens. “You know, though,” he continues, and his voice is lower than before. “I was bouncing off the walls a little bit.”
“The walls?” You giggle. The look on his face—something like seriousness wrapped in intention, like there’s something you’re missing that he’s waiting for you to understand—wipes the smile off your face. You swallow. Suddenly nothing seems funny. “Why?”
“The same reason I’m wondering why you’re on your feet.”
You blink. “What?”
He stands up, not suddenly nor aggressively, but just the movement makes you cower like he’s all but run at you. Maybe it’s the way his eyes have sharpened, or how his voice dipped as he spoke—the next small indicators, now impossible to ignore, that the game has begun.
Or maybe you’re just on edge, because you know it has.
“What did we tell you you’d be doing today?” He asks, voice level, even, but not quite light. “What did we tell you you’d be today?”
Oh. The memory of last night—of their hands, their words, their promises—hits you like something solid. Your reply comes soft, shaking, face heating up already. “A—a puppy, sir.”
“Then get down.”
It feels odd to be doing it so early, in here yet with only one of them. You don’t even feel fully awake yet—but San has given you an order. That’s what matters. You’re on your knees before the words have even settled in the air.
“Good,” San says. He takes a step towards you, then another, until he’s close enough to take your chin in his hand. “That’s a good puppy.”
You keep your eyes down, fixed on the floor, and it’s as hard as it’s ever been—San sounds, feels, so confident and dominant and in control that you want nothing more than to look up at him, to see him. See the way he stares you down, eyes narrowed, like you’re nothing and everything all at once.
And today—like you’re a pet. A puppy.
You’ve definitely thought about pet play before; fantasised, and you’d taken a few tentative steps in that direction with Maya. But even those steps were barely so—certainly nothing like this. This is already much, much deeper.
“You look troubled, pup,” San says gently. “Something on your mind? You can speak. Tell me what’s going on in that head.”
“Nothing sir,” you say. “There’s nothing on my mind.”
He hums like he doesn’t quite believe you. “Eyes up.”
His face, you find, is the same as his tone—gentle, calm, but stern and very much owner. He slots a thumb past your lips and lets it sit inside your mouth. “You shouldn’t be thinking about anything,” he tells you, voice firmer now. “Nothing except being good and following directions. That’s all puppies should care about. Is that what you were thinking about?”
“Kind of, sir.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Kind of?” He repeats.
You nod. “I was thinking… I was thinking that I like this.”
“Being a puppy?”
“Yes sir.”
“Well I suppose that’s good,” he smiles. “We want you to like it. I’d rather you weren’t thinking at all, but we’ll work on that. One day you’ll be able to switch your brain off on command.”
Your stomach swoops at the thought, the image, the fact that by now you have very little doubt that he’s telling the truth; your breath hitches, caught in your chest, and you see on his face him taking stock of each small response of your body to his words.
What you don’t do—pointedly so—is clench your thighs together. Because you’re not allowed to anymore. He notices, of course; he must see the way your thighs tense then start to move, like you’re about to press them together but stay stubbornly apart like you’re forcing yourself not to, and he makes a noise that sounds like satisfaction. “Good girl,” he praises. “There’s your control. You’re learning.”
You hear footsteps in the hall, getting closer, but you don’t dare take your eyes off of San. He doesn’t take his off of you, either. “Very good,” he says.
“I see we started early.”
Jongho. He sounds tired still, voice rough, but there’s a slight edge to it that betrays something else.
San chuckles and pulls his thumb halfway out of your mouth, far enough to smear your saliva over your bottom lip, tugging on it a little and seeming to enjoy the way your head moves with it without a choice. “I had to,” he says. “She came in looking like a lost puppy, poor little thing. She was practically begging someone to put her down.”
“And is she being good?”
“Wonderful,” San tells him. “Didn’t even hesitate when I told her to get down. I think we’re weeding that instinct out of her already. Starting to, at least.”
“Let’s hope so.”
Jongho emerges from behind you, coming to stand by San; he’s already dressed, too—comfy, casual, but still dressed. He frowns. His eyes narrow, honing in on your top half that’s still concealed by the blanket. “Is she covering herself?”
“Just a blanket,” San shrugs. “Harmless. You want it off her?”
“Is she cold?”
San looks at you expectantly. “Well, pup? Are you cold?”
“No sir,” you whisper.
“Off then,” Jongho says bluntly. You shrug the blanket off; it falls from around your shoulders, sliding down your back and landing on the floor around you. He tilts an eyebrow, expectant; warning. “Are you going to leave it there?” He asks, sharper now. “On the floor? You’re going to make a mess in our house?”
You falter, hesitating. He cuts you off before you can speak. “Pick it up,” he instructs, voice hardened at the edges. “You don’t make messes here.”
“Yes sir,” you mumble. You move to obey, reaching for it, but Jongho stops you before you can.
“Do dogs use their hands?” He asks.
You pause, turning to him, then shake your head. “No sir.”
“Then neither do you. Pick it up. Use your mouth.”
Your heart is pounding, heat blooming in your chest and neck as you lean down for it; you take the fabric between your teeth, biting down, then look back up at him like you’re silently asking for instruction. “You know what to do,” he says. “Dogs don’t walk, either, in case you’ve forgotten.”
You whine before you can help it; you half expect him to scold you for it, but he just breathes out a low laugh and nods towards the coffee table. “Go.”
So you go—you crawl, just as you’ve done before, under those same stern, watchful gazes, pulling the blanket between your teeth along the floor next to you, then pull it up onto the coffee table and drop it there.
“Good,” San says. “Turn around. Let’s have a look at you.”
They’re smiling now, you see when you obey, turning around on your hands and knees until you’re facing them; small, soft smiles that don’t quite reach their eyes. San clicks his fingers then points down to the floor in front of him. “Here. Come. I have something for you, my girl.”
You perk up, intrigued; if you really did have a tail you’re certain it would be wagging now. They watch, silent, smiling slightly, as you crawl towards them and settle on your knees with your back straight.
“Good posture,” Jongho murmurs.
“Good puppy,” San says. There’s another, newer quality to his voice now, and you know what it is. The same thing that, for you, is making everything seem fuzzy and warm and thrilling.
“Chin up,” San orders. He grasps it in his hand, held between his finger and his thumb, then tilts your head upwards a little more. “There’s my puppy,” he breathes. “Keep your head like this, sweetheart, don’t move it. Stay docile.”
He crouches down so he’s at your level and runs his finger lightly across your neck. Gentle, without pressure, from one side to the other, like he’s tracing the outline of where a collar would be.
Then he reaches into his pocket and actually does pull out a collar.
It’s white, leather, a few centimetres thick, with a small metal ring hanging from the front. You stare at it for a moment, unsure what to say—your face, though, seems to say everything. San’s lips twitch; a small, knowing smirk. “You like it?”
You nod. “Yes sir.”
“Good,” he says. “This is just a play collar, for when you’re a puppy and we need something to tug you around with. Once you’re officially ours you’ll get a real collar; something you can wear all the time. Something formal, a little more subtle so you can wear it out. But this is sweet too, isn’t it?”
“It is, sir. Can I wear it now?”
“Yes you can. Stay still, honey, I’ll get it on you.”
He fastens it around your neck, slotting two fingers between your skin and the leather while he tightens it. “You need room to breathe,” he tells you before you can ask. “If you wanna try breath play, that’s a conversation to have when you’re in your right mind. For now you’re breathing freely. How’s that feel, baby?”
“Feels good, sir.”
“Not too tight or too loose?”
“No sir.”
“Good girl. And how do you feel?”
You pause, still for a moment, trying to find the words—to know what they’d be if you could. It feels rather like they’re running away from you right now.
You feel… “Floaty,” you settle on. “And… and light.”
“There’s your subspace,” he smiles. “You love it there, don’t you?”
“Yes sir.”
“We love you there, too. So sweet and obedient. God, even looking at you like this it feels like you were meant to be a puppy. How’d you survive so long without an owner, baby? Without someone to look after you?”
Your face is burning, you feel it; flames twist in your gut and scorch you in just the way you need it. Your breathing stutters, catching in your throat. “Not— not easily, sir,” you whisper.
“I bet,” he hums. “Poor baby. It’s okay. We’re here now. We’re gonna do everything for you.”
You nod. “Thank you.”
“Okay,” Jongho says a moment later. “No more talking, That’s not puppy-like, is it, baby? You need to get used to being a pup, keeping quiet. Alright?”
You open your mouth to reply, purely instinctual, but stop yourself just in time. Jongho nods, satisfied. “That’s it.”
“Oh my.”
Seonghwa’s voice, soft but sudden, cutting through the silence unexpectedly, almost has you turning towards it. You stop yourself just in time, just as your head starts to move; San makes a noise of satisfaction that has something warm and comfortable swelling in your chest.
You feel Seonghwa’s presence behind you, approaching from the doorway; slow, relaxed footsteps, a soft sound against the floor. You want to look. You want to see him. Fuck, you want…
“I didn’t realise we’d have a puppy already,” he says. God, he’s right there, you feel it— “She’s a pretty one. Where’d you find her?”
He takes another step; then, finally, his hand comes to rest on your head, flat against your hair. It takes everything in you not to keen into his touch.
“She’s gorgeous, isn’t she?” Jongho says to him, but he’s still looking at you. “Seems like a show pup to me, all perfect and pretty. I hope she has the temperament to match.”
“She’s been very obedient so far,” San says. “But I think she needs more training. Her previous owners seem to have been a little hands off.”
“Well we can’t have that.” You hear the smile in Seonghwa’s voice; the laughter he’s barely holding back. Everything about this is over the top, is ridiculous—should be ridiculous, and yet it doesn’t feel ridiculous at all. It feels the opposite, actually—it feels right. Natural. Needed. You feel yourself sinking into it like quicksand you don’t want to free yourself from. “We’ll have to train her up, if her previous owners didn’t. A pretty thing like her deserves nothing less.”
His hand moves forwards, tracing the path of the collar on your neck then grabbing your chin. He doesn’t move you; he just holds it there. He pushes his thumb past your lips and lets it sit there, too.
You want to suck it, badly. Maybe chew on it. But you don’t.
“She’s trying so hard to be good right now,” San clicks his tongue. “Look at her. Poor little thing. Bet she wishes she could tell us how bad she needs it.”
“Shame puppies can’t talk,” Jongho says. “She’ll just have to bark and whine and whimper if she wants something, I guess.”
“You’re doing well,” Seonghwa says; you can tell just from the tone, even before the words sink in, that this is meant for you now. His voice has dipped some, quieter than before, lower; like a secret the two of you share. “You can suck, sweetheart.”
He pushes his thumb in further, down to the knuckle, and you suckle at it; tentatively, at first, then more keenly. It’s strangely relaxing; a little instinctual. He hums. “Eager. I like it.”
“Where’re the others?” Jongho asks. He hides it well, but you still hear the faint impatience in his voice. The excitement.
Seonghwa laughs. “Excited, huh? They’ll be along. For now, why don’t we get some breakfast?”
The way Jongho smiles makes you think it’s probably not pancakes waiting for you in the kitchen. Seonghwa pulls his hand from your lips then taps your jaw with two fingers. You manage not to whine at the loss in your mouth.
“Stay still,” Seonghwa murmurs. “Eyes down. Keep them there. No matter what we do.”
He’s pulled away completely now, no longer touching you; you don’t like it, really, you want him to touch you again, but what you want even more than that is to please him. To hear him call you a good puppy. Maybe you’ll even find out what their version of a treat will be.
So your eyes stay on the ground, firmly, almost stubbornly, as San steps forward then clips a leash to the ring on your collar.
Oh fuck. You’re not surprised, exactly, but shit. They genuinely have you on a fucking leash.
“Come on,” San says, then tugs at it just firmly enough to make you whimper. He heads towards the kitchen, Seonghwa and Jongho in tow, and you follow on all fours. The only sound is their footsteps, your hands and knees padding against the floor, and the sound of your heartbeat pounding between your ears.
They don’t point it out to you. They let you spot it on your own—the little pink bowl on the floor by the table.
It’s not meant for people. The word puppy in bold blue letters on the front only affirms it.
San nudes you forward with his foot where you’ve frozen mid-crawl. “Go on,” he croons. “Breakfast.”
It’s full, you realise as you approach it. It looks like—
“It’s cereal,” Seonghwa tells you. “We’re not giving you dog food.” There’s a layer of amusement in his voice.
“I’m sure we don’t have to tell you not to use your hands,” Jongho says.
No, you think. He doesn’t.
“If you do feel tempted, though,” San adds, “you should remember what happens to puppies who don’t behave. A rolled up newspaper should remind you of your role today. If it doesn’t, a few lashes of your leash against your thighs definitely will.”
You can’t help but wince at the thought, and he laughs. “Eat up. Good puppies obey the first time.”
You don’t think you’ve ever found the act of lowering your head down and taking a bite to be quite so daunting. It’s a little awkward like this, hard to hold yourself, but you manage.
They pay you no attention—none. They just… go about their morning. Sitting at the table. Talking in low voices you can’t quite make out. Then, when you finish, Jongho beckons you over with two fingers and a “here, girl.”
You crawl over to him—not far, but your bare shins on the cold tiles makes it feel a lot further—and settle on your knees. He scratches the back of your head, between your ears, and hums.
“Good girl,” he grunts. “I’m gonna finish my breakfast. Why don’t you curl up at my feet til I’m done, hm?”
He pushes you down, gently, a hand on the back of your neck nudging you towards the floor. “Down you go,” he murmurs.
Time, you realise, passes strangely at Jongho’s feet. You’re not sure how much elapses like that—curled up, your head resting on his slippers, cold tile pressed against your bare skin, eyes half closed. But it’s peaceful. You’re not too cold, either, despite your near nudity; maybe they’ve turned the heating up a little bit, or maybe it’s the fact that you’re already feeling, well, hot.
It might well be both.
Every now and then Jongho reaches down to pat your hair, or nudges you gently with his foot, like a little silent assurance that you aren’t forgotten. It’s nice—knowing that even when you’re being ignored, they’re still paying attention.
You get so comfy like that, so far away in your own head, that you don’t realise they’re done until you’re being pulled back up onto your knees by the leash.
“All fours,” he orders, and you obey without thinking. “Good.”
He tugs at the leash again, already walking away and you pad through to the living room by his side, Seonghwa and San following closely behind.
Your face heats up a little, being so exposed, feeling their eyes on you, but you hardly register it. All you register—all you have the capacity to register like this—are the individual steps you’re taking and your desperation to do a good job of it.
Wooyoung arrives in the living room just as you do, shuffling in from upstairs. Your head is bowed still, eyes cast downwards like a good puppy; you dare to raise them for a moment, just a moment, but it’s long enough to catch his reaction; he pauses briefly, eyes widening for a moment, lips parting in surprise then curling into something more intentional. Something sly.
You force your eyes back down as soon as he meets them. For a moment you worry that’s not enough—that you shouldn’t have dared to raise them in the first place, even subtly—but no one moves to correct you on it.
Perhaps you get a little leeway like this. You dare to hope so.
“Well, well,” Wooyoung says. “I wasn’t expecting the puppy this early.”
“She was desperate for it,” San says mildly. He nudges you with his foot, a soft kick to the back of your thigh. “Sit, pup.”
You obey easily, settling on your knees, staring resolutely at Wooyoung’s feet, snug inside dark slippers partially concealed by the hems of his black pyjama pants. You want to look at him, of course, see the approval you hope you’d find on his face, but you know better. You’ve chanced it enough already.
He rests his hand atop your head, ruffling your hair gently; this time you can’t help but keen into his touch. He laughs. “So cute,” he coos. “Little pup can’t help herself, huh? Needs to be touched. Eyes up.”
He looks soft. That’s your first, immediate thought; hair unstyled, a little messy, face bare, eyes gentle if still holding a little of the sharpness they always seem to with you.
“You’re a little lax today,” he hums, but he doesn’t sound scolding—just observational. “Looking up when you shouldn’t be. Chasing my touch, but that’s okay. Puppies get more leeway than regular subs, ‘cause they’re cute and they don’t know how to talk back. You go deeper into your subspace as a puppy, so you can’t think as clearly, can’t catch yourself like you usually would. You get the leniency to reflect that.”
He’s stroking you as he talks, soft, circular motions, just enough pressure to feel grounding; it makes it hard to digest his words as he speaks, but you manage to when you concentrate. He smiles—a kind, smug, knowing smile like he’s reading your mind exactly.
“You’re a good girl,” he murmurs. “Pretty. We’ll show you how to be a good puppy, too. Come.”
You follow him to the couch; the leash is gone, you realise, unclipped some time after they’d tugged you into the kitchen, but you must have missed it in the haze of your headspace. Still, you crawl obediently by Wooyoung’s feet as if you were still attached to it, until he sits himself down on the couch and points at the floor between his parted legs. “You can kneel here,” he says. “No pets on the furniture.”
The other three are already seated, following you with their eyes; San reaches across Wooyoung’s lap to ruffle your hair. “Good puppy,” he smiles, eyes in crescents. “You just sit there.”
Wooyoung’s legs are pressing against you, not tight, no pressure, just holding you where you are and keeping you straight. You could lean against him if you get tired, you think, without breaking position. You don’t want to break position. So that’s good.
Wooyoung runs a long finger over your head, following the parting of your hair, and hums. “Didn’t we get her some ears?” He asks. “Poor little pup doesn’t have any.”
“We did,” Jongho replies. He looks up from his phone, brows furrowing a little, then looks back down again. “We got her everything she needs.”
“Well, she needs ears,” Wooyoung says. “What kind of puppy doesn’t have ears? Or even a tail? Was it docked off at the breeder or something?”
San snorts. “As if we’d let them do that to her.”
“The stuff is in Seonghwa’s room,” Jongho adds.
Wooyoung hums. “Well, go and get it.”
“You go and get it.”
Wooyoung reaches around you to grab your chin, fingers digging into your cheeks, and yanks your head around to face Jongho. You squeak, half in surprise and half in pain; they ignore you. “Can’t you see I’m busy?” Wooyoung snaps. “I have a puppy to train. You go and get it.”
“I’ll go,” Seonghwa says. “You two, stop acting like children. We’ve our own little girl now.”
He leaves before the words can really settle, but your reaction is instant, instinctive. A sharp intake of breath, catching in your chest; a shudder that makes your whole body quake.
Jongho laughs lowly, knowingly. Wooyoung, his grip on your face released now, tugs on your hair hard enough to make your eyes water.
“Oh, you liked that, huh?” San’s smile has stretched into a grin now, all teeth. “She wants to be our little girl, doesn’t she?”
“Seems that way,” Jongho says. “She’d be a cute one, wouldn’t she?”
“She would,” Wooyoung hums. “All tiny and bratty and clingy. Suits her.”
“Maybe we’ll try it some time,” San says.
You’re only half following; your eyes are fixed on the empty doorway Seonghwa left through, the small expanse of hallway you can see through the opening. For a moment you heard his footsteps as he retreated, getting quieter and further away until they were gone too; you’re frowning, lips pushed out into a pout, you realise when San laughs, nudging your thigh with his foot. “Hwa will be back soon, puppy. Poor thing, you didn’t want him to leave, huh?”
You shake your head; just as you do, as if summoned by magic, Seonghwa appears again, and you straighten up instinctively, lifting your head, back arching some like you’re trying to show him how poised and proper and good you can be. He smiles, coming to stand in front of you and patting your head. “Here we go,” he says.
He’s holding a couple of things. First, a pair of floppy white ears, attached to a headband that he crouches down to clip into place in your hair. “Don’t want you losing ‘em,” he smiles.
The other is a pair of what looks like mittens, in the same colour as the ears. “Paw,” Seonghwa says. It takes you a moment to realise what he means; you hold out your hands, one at a time, and watch silently as he fastens the mittens around your hands and ties them at the wrists. “Puppies don’t use their hands,” he tells you. “This way you won’t have to remember not to.”
The last thing in his hands is a box. It’s small-ish, nondescript, and you can’t tell what’s in it; you look up at Seonghwa with pleading eyes, hoping it’ll sway him into telling you, but he just laughs. “That’s not gonna work today I’m afraid,” he says. “This is for later, if you’re good and if you want it. We’ve already given you, what, three gifts today? If I give you this now you’re gonna end up spoiled.”
“She’s gonna end up spoiled anyways, just look at her,” Wooyoung says. “The sweetest little puppy. I already want to give her whatever she wants.”
“It’s hard to resist,” San says. He’s standing now, next to Seonghwa, eyes raking over your bare, kneeling form, taking in the sight of you. He looks pleased. “Jongho, bring her bed over here.”
The words take a moment to settle; from the corner of your eye you watch as Jongho rises, walking across the room and picking up— oh. Of course.
That’s why they’d been so insistent that the thing you’d been lying on last night wasn’t a dog bed—because they were about to give you something that actually was.
Jongho puts it down in front of the couch, near to where you’d been kneeling. It’s a dark brown, soft looking, big enough to hold you if you curl up. Seonghwa nudges your attention back towards him with a hand on your chin. “Okay,” he says softly. “We’ve let you be curious for a bit. Let you get a good look at what’s going on. Now you listen. Eyes down.”
Your gaze falls, just as instructed; Seonghwa makes a noise of satisfaction that sits warm in your belly. “Good,” he says. “You remember. There’ll be no more wandering eyes today. We’ll keep you on track. Show me your panties.” He nudges your knees, pressed together, with his foot, humming when you realise what he wants you to do and part your legs accordingly. He crouches down for a better view of them, the black cotton and lace snug against your cunt. His hand wraps around your thigh and nudges your leg open a little bit further.
It doesn’t improve his view, already unimpeded; you think he just wanted to feel your body obeying him.
“Cute,” he smiles. “Are you wet? Nod or shake your head.”
Tentatively, you nod, though you’re all but certain. There’s no way you couldn’t be wet now, right?
“I’d like to check myself. Nod or shake your head.”
You nod again. Seonghwa exhales. His hand moves up your thigh, then two fingers press against your clothed cunt. You inhale, a sharp, sudden breath, and bite down a whimper.
Seonghwa’s touch feels like static, reaching you in every corner of your body; finds you in the smallest, darkest corners and crevices. You can tell he knows it. He presses down a little harder, the corners of his lips quirking in amusement, then pulls away, standing back up again. He lifts the two fingers that were pressed against your cunt and shows them to San.
“Look at that,” Seonghwa says. “Sheen. All the way through her panties. Leaking like a little faucet.”
“Good call having her wear panties, then,” San laughs. “She’d be dripping all over our floors.”
“You like it this much?” Wooyoung asks. His voice comes from behind you, landing on the back of your neck like a cold breath. “Being a pet. You’ve been waiting for it, haven’t you?”
Not consciously, you think. But you’re taken aback by how natural this feels. You make to respond, mouth opening; you catch yourself just in time, and a soft, throaty whine slips out from where you’d held the words back. Wooyoung coos.
“Eyes up.” Seonghwa’s hand is on your chin now, gripping it between two fingers, forcing your attention onto him where it had started to drift away. “Good puppy. Now. I’m going to give you some instructions, and you’re going to listen very, very carefully. Yeah?”
You nod, straightening up a little; Seonghwa smiles. “Good,” he says. “You’re going to curl up in your little dog bed here. You won’t speak, unless it’s to call a safeword. You’re going to be a good puppy. You won’t bother us. You’ll wait for us to put you to use, and you’ll be grateful for what you get. Go on now. Crawl.”
He smacks your ass as you start to obey, on the patch of skin where your skirt’s ridden up; you don’t react, determined to show them you can control yourself and focused on your mission of getting to the bed.
It’s soft, more padded than you thought it would be. You take a second to get yourself comfortable, finding a position that works and allows the bed to hold you in your entirety, then let your head rest on the raised side. When you look up, you can see Wooyoung and San, but they’re not looking at you. No one is looking at you.
You sigh softly, turning your head back to where it was lying comfortable before, facing outwards; you yawn, humming slightly, and without really thinking, you push two fingers past your lips and into your mouth.
You’re not even conscious of it until someone laughs.
“Is that her version of a chew toy?” You’re not sure where Hongjoong’s voice is coming from, and by now you’re too comfy to lift your head to look, but you hear the slight sleepiness, the soft amusement in his tone. “Her own fingers?”
Seonghwa is in front of you a second later, crouching down by your bed and yanking your fingers out of your mouth. He smacks your cheek, not too hard but certainly not gentle, clicking his tongue. “Bad dog,” he says. “You don’t decide what goes in your mouth. We do. Understand?”
You nod. Seonghwa smiles gently. “Good girl.”
He reaches to pat your head, ruffling your hair slightly, and then he’s gone.
You hear them telling; at some point, the voices of the others come into the mix, but you don’t fully digest what they’re saying. It’s not about you, though, you know that; while Yeosang gives a short, fond laugh when he walks in and sees you there before turning the conversation to something else, Yunho and Mingi say nothing at all. From this angle, you can’t be certain they even looked at you.
It’s surprisingly easy to just lie there, doing nothing, even with your subspace making you so needy for them; the same subspace that makes you hot and desperate, like this, is making you calm. Floaty. Fuzzy. You’re happy just lying curled up in the warmth of your little bed and think of nothing but obeying them.
You do wonder what their intention here is, though. You know the purpose, of course, to show you what it’s like to be a puppy, but you’re not certain why. Everything they do with you seems to have a reason—that first day, when they took you apart, it was to set the tone and the expectations for this relationship; the second day, when you were wrapped up in rope and spanked into total and complete submission, it was to teach you to surrender. To show you the freedom of losing control. Yesterday, when they had you strung out and denied all day, it was to teach you control itself. To teach you to obey.
You’re not sure what it is today.
They turn on the TV, a variety show none of them seem to be watching, but with nothing else to do you start to follow along. They’re speaking quickly, the hosts, a little faster than you’re used to or comfortable with in your second language, but it’s not too hard to keep up.
They’re playing a game; the group, rookies you haven’t heard of, are split into two and playing some odd sort of playground game. It’s neck and neck. The tiebreaker round is next.
Just as it’s about to start, the channel changes. Your head lifts off of the bed, only slightly, and a confused sound escapes your throat before you can help it.
A hand fists into your hair and pulls you upwards, far enough that you’re on your knees and staring right into San’s face.
He doesn’t look annoyed. He looks amused. “Were you watching that?” He asks.
You keep your mouth shut. The corner of his lips quirks on one side. “Poor thing,” he says. “You haven’t quite learned yet, have you? Puppies don’t know how to think. That’s why they need their owners to do it for them. But I think you were thinking, weren’t you, pup?”
Your gaze drops, cheeks flushing pink, a small measure of shame breaking through the haze. San laughs. “Don’t worry, baby,” he coos, “I know it’s hard. You’ve spent so long trying to be a person, haven’t you? It must be hard to turn it off. We’ll help you.”
He lets go of your hair and you fall back down, not expecting to suddenly be unsupported; you’re kneeling with your ass against your shins now, staring up at San with an empty expression.
Help you. What does that mean?
“We need to dumb her down a little,” San says. “A bone, how about that?”
“Do we have a bone?” Mingi asks.
“I think we do,” Seonghwa says. “More of a chew toy. We never got around to using it, when we had— yeah, I know where it is.”
“And the other thing?” Wooyoung asks.
“Later,” Seonghwa says. “She hasn’t earned it.”
You wonder what it is you haven’t earned yet, but you don’t have much time to dwell on it now, because Seonghwa is walking out of the room to go and get you a bone, a chew toy, and the thought fills you with excitement and curiosity. You wonder if it really will make you go down; make the thoughts and the coherence and all the human stuff happening in your head just turn off. If the act itself doesn’t, the praise you hope they’ll give you for chewing on it so nicely surely will.
Seonghwa returns with it in hand, still wrapped up in plastic; he pulls it out, discarding the wrapping on the table, then walks over to you. “Kneel,” he says. “Eyes up. Open your mouth.”
Your lips part obediently; Seonghwa shakes his head. “Wider.”
Once it’s wide enough, so wide that it’s starting to hurt your jaw, he slides the toy in and rests it on your bottom row of teeth. “Bite down,” he says. “Carefully, I don’t want your slobber on me. If your mouth touches my hand I’ll beat you.”
You close your mouth slowly, carefully; when you’re biting down hard enough he pulls his hand away, ruffling your hair a little. “Good girl,” he smiles. “Lie back down. We have some things to talk about today—no, not with you, don’t worry—so you’re going to lie there and be good while we do it. Just chew on your toy and entertain yourself.”
You sigh, curling up in your bed again, this time with the toy between your teeth. You start to bite down on it, hesitant, still getting used to the feel of it in your mouth and— oh. It squeaks.
It’s a quiet sound the first time you hear it, your bite weak enough to only just make it go off; you try again, biting down a little harder, and it comes louder now. Oh, that’s fun. You bite down faster this time, two bites in quick succession, and the squeaks are faster and shorter in tandem. You smile around the toy, biting down again; it’s wet now, drool beginning to soak into the plastic and drip down onto your bed, but you hardly notice. You’re having fun. Someone reaches down to scratch your head, gentle, and you keen into the touch a little bit. You don’t know how long they stay like that for, and it doesn’t even dawn on you to look up to see who it is. You’re focused on your toy. On the squeaks. On the oddly soothing feeling of soft plastic between your teeth.
You hear them speaking; hear their voices, low and serious, talking about work from the few words you care to make out—practice, stage, choreography. You hold the toy between your two mitten-clad hands, keeping it steady as you bite down harder. You wonder if the plastic would rip, if you did it hard enough. You wonder how tough it is—would it still squeak if it was ripped open? Maybe it would squeak even louder, actually, if it didn’t have the plastic muffling it.
That’s something to do.
You bite down as hard as you can, dragging your teeth across the plastic, trying to tear a hole somewhere. You manage to make one near the middle, where the plastic is thinner, and the squeak is louder, just like you’d thought.
“What are you doing?” You pause, looking up; Hongjoong is standing over you, peering down with an eyebrow raised. “Get up,” he says. “On your knees.”
You pull yourself up into position, staring up at him with the toy still held between your teeth. Hongjoong holds his hand out in front of your face. “Drop it.”
You do; it lands in his hand and he lifts it, moving it so the end is held between two fingers. “Covered in slobber,” he says. “Embarrassing. Is that a hole you’ve made in it?”
“A hole?” Yeosang appears suddenly by Hongjoong’s side, a slight smile catching on his lips. “She made a hole in it?”
“Right here,” Hongjoong says, pointing to it. “I think that was on purpose, don’t you? I don’t think a little puppy could do that by accident.”
“Definitely not,” Yeosang agrees. “I think the dog—” He pauses for a second, gaze flickering down towards you then back up, “—has some lessons to learn about respect.”
“She’s just a pup,” Wooyoung says from behind you. “It’s normal for them to break things. You were just playing, weren’t you honey?” He leans down, nuzzling his face into your hair and pressing a kiss to the top of your head.
“She still needs to learn,” Hongjoong says, voice firm. “Look at me, dog. Eyes up.”
He doesn’t look angry, of course; just stern. His voice is quiet and firm and final.
“You do not break things. You do not tear holes in things. When we’re nice enough to give you something, you treat it with respect. Do you understand me?”
You nod. He doesn’t look impressed. “No,” he says, “we let you be a quiet little lap dog because we thought you could behave like one. But if you want to chew holes in things, you can act like the untrained stray you seem to think you are. So now, if we ask you a question, you’re going to bark. Understood?”
Jesus Christ. Your breath hitches, catching in your throat; Hongjoong is staring at you expectantly, waiting for you to respond, and you force out a quiet little yip that might be the most pathetic sound you’ve ever made.
Hongjoong looks delighted.
“Good dog,” he grins. “You’ve lost the privilege to play with toys, I’m afraid, so you’re going to come and sit with me. Any more misbehaviour and you’ll be whipped, understood?”
You bark again, a little louder this time; Hongjoong clicks his fingers, pointing to the floor next to him. “Come, girl.”
You crawl by his side as he returns to his seat on the other couch, next to Jongho; you feel Yeosang following behind you, hear his quiet footsteps against the floor, and when you settle kneeling by Hongjoong’s feet Yeosang sits down on the other side. Hongjoong puts the toy away somewhere out of your sight, then parts his legs. “Kneel in between them,” he says, pointing to the floor. “You’re going to learn to be respectful of your things. So instead of a chew toy, you’re going to keep my fingers in your mouth; maybe that’ll make you more considerate. I understand puppies can’t think as clearly as humans, but you knew better. You made a conscious choice to destroy that toy, so now you’re going to learn not to.”
He pushes two fingers into your mouth once you’re in position, pushing right to the back of your throat; you gag around them, but it’s more out of surprise at the intrusion than an actual inability to breathe, and when he pulls them out far enough to sit comfortably on your tongue you settle down. He pushes the side of your head gently with his hand, guiding it to rest against his thigh. “Good puppy,” he coos. “Suck on my fingers, sweetheart. We still have a few more things to discuss.”
His other hand is a firm presence on the back of your neck as the conversation starts up again, keeping you still, the feeling of his fingers pressing into your skin pushing you deeper into the haze. His grip is so firm, so assured; his control of you, of your body, so palpable you feel like you could reach out and touch it.
You can’t believe how easy it is with them. How little it takes to put you into subspace; to push you further into it and keep you there. How they can do it with barely more than a glance.
You float there for a while, content, until someone speaks.
“Are you enjoying this?”
You look up, blinking, meeting Hongjoong’s blank gaze. Um.
“I think you are,” he says. Let’s see how wet you are.”
He lays you flat over his lap, your ass in the air, like Wooyoung had done yesterday with your legs spread and your toes grazing against the floor. He runs two fingers up your inner thigh, slowly, steadily, easing closer and closer to your cunt. His touch is feather-light, a tickle that makes it hard to stay still and quiet.
“Such a good dog,” he murmurs. “I can see how hard you’re trying to stay still. Sensitive, hm?”
Finally he reaches your cunt; his fingers push through your folds, grazing across your hole and your clit, gathering your wetness in his hand. He hums. “Soaking,” he says. “Wet cunt on a wet dog. She just has no shame at all.”
“She can’t help it.” Another hand, a little larger, fingers thicker and rougher, settles on the back of your thigh, pressing slightly into the skin. Jongho. “She’s gone all the way down now, I think. Exactly how we wanted her.”
“I think she’s earned her reward,” Hongjoong says.
“I agree.”
You’re moved then; lifted from Hongjoong’s lap and placed back down on the floor, on your knees the way you’d been before. Hongjoong grabs your jaw, pushing his thumb into your mouth and using it to ease it open. “Show me your tongue,” he says. “And your throat. Gotta make sure.”
You must look confused, because Jongho, sat next to Hongjoong and peering down at you with equal intensity, huffs out a low laugh. “Sweet girl doesn’t get it, do you? Puppies need to be inspected all over. That includes the mouth. Anywhere that can take a finger or a dick needs to be checked.”
Oh, right. You let your mouth open a little more, jaw falling slack, something warm pulsing in your chest at the satisfied sound Hongjoong makes in response. He looks focused, brows furrowed slightly, finger pressing down on your tongue, then pushing to the back of your throat, then running across your bottom lip. “Very good,” he says. “Seonghwa, come here. Bring her tail.”
A tail. You perk up, back straightening some, and something tightens in your gut at the thought. Hongjoong smiles. “Eager, huh?” He says. “The tail matches your ears.” He reaches to tug at one of the ears gently, the clips it’s fastened to tugging at your hair slightly. “It’s fixed to a plug. Can you take a plug right now?”
You nod, barking quietly. You can definitely take a plug now; you haven’t eaten much, and you cleaned yourself out this morning as you always do. Hongjoong nods. “Good,” he says. “Lean over, then. Ass up.”
You feel the presence behind you, then your ass grazing against someone’s crotch. His hands comes to rest on your hips, steadying you, then push your skirt the rest of the way over your ass where it has already started to fall. “Easy,” comes a low murmur. Seonghwa’s hand moves down, the other locked in place to hold you still, and slowly starts to tug down your panties. They’re pulled to your mid-thigh, far enough down to expose you but high enough that the fabric keeps your legs pressed together somewhat. The sound of a cap being undone, then liquid squeezed out, makes your breath catch in your throat.
You exhale, steadying yourself. It’s just a plug. You’ve taken things in your ass before.
It’s cold, both the lube and the what feels like steel of the plug; you gasp, flinching ever so slightly, but you manage not to react too much. Seonghwa’s hand stays firm on your hip while the other pushes the plug in past your rim; it’s a full feeling, intrusive, but not quite a stretch.
“There we go,” he hums, pushing it the rest of the way inside until your rim is curled around the base of it. He pats your ass, not quite a smack, but there’s a slight sting to it that makes you wonder if there’s still a sensitivity there from the spanking you took a couple of days ago. “Now she’s a puppy,” Seonghwa says. “Isn’t she cute?”
“Adorable,” San says, and you can hear the smile in his voice. “Looks natural, doesn’t it? I wonder how it feels.”
“Full, probably,” Jongho says. “Kneel, puppy.”
You feel their eyes on you as you push yourself up onto your knees; your panties are still bunched around your thighs, the fabric slightly tangled, damp and sticky at the crotch, but you don’t try to move them. You know better than that.
You wonder what their plans are for you; if they have any at all, or if they just want to have you like this. Hongjoong sighs, adjusting himself, hips pushing outwards slightly, then points downwards. “Here, girl.”
You crawl over to him as gracefully as you can, settling on your knees by his side; he rests a hand on your head and runs his thumb over your scalp. “Eyes up,” he orders. “Good girl, you’re a natural. And so pretty with your little tail, aren’t you?”
His hand moves down to grip your jaw, fingers digging into your cheeks, then pulls away. You hear the smack before you feel it; the loud, sharp sound that rings out on its own for a few seconds before the pain hits.
It’s not overly hard. It doesn’t knock the wind out of you. But the sound and the sting and the way his expression doesn’t change—still cool, still passive, as though nothing had happened at all—makes something in your stomach swoop and your vision blur at the edges. You bite back a whine, afraid it will come out louder than you can get away with, but something in your face must betray you, because Hongjoong breathes out a laugh then hits you again. “Pathetic,” he says, but the softness of his tone makes the word land like praise. “Don’t give me those puppy eyes.”
“She probably feels a little lost right now,” Jongho says. “All floaty and fuzzy and hardly being touched. Wondering if we’re gonna put her to use or just string her out.”
“Must be hard not knowing,” Hongjoong says. “Colour, puppy? You can speak.”
“Green.” The word feels oddly unfamiliar on your tongue; the sound of your voice, small and soft, strangely foreign. You’ve already gotten accustomed to being quiet. To barking and whining and whimpering. Speaking feels… wrong.
“Good girl,” Hongjoong replies. “Then I’ll put you out of your misery. You’re not getting off today. Clear?”
You nod. You’d sort of figured.
“Good,” he says. “Then you can get your bed and bring it over here. Save the floor digging into your poor little knees. Go on.”
You nod, turning away from him; he sends you off with a smack to your ass as you start to crawl away. It makes the plug shift inside you, reminding you of the presence that had already started to slip your mind, and you whimper.
You feel them watching you as you move. When you reach the bed, for just a moment, you hesitate.
You can’t use your hands; they’re still snug in those soft mittens, and you doubt you’d be allowed to anyway. So how…?
“Teeth,” someone says. “Come on. You’ve seen puppies pick things up, haven’t you?”
You have. It’s not as easy to pick up as your bone was, of course (rest in peace to that poor piece of plastic), but you manage to tug it along the floor as you crawl back over to Hongjoong. He takes it from you once you’re within reach, putting it down between where he and Jongho are seated, then taps it with his foot. “Down,” he says. “On your knees. Face Jongho.”
Jongho slips his fingers past your mouth just as Hongjoong had done, pulling your head to rest against his thigh; his fingers are splayed across the back of your head and neck, thumb rubbing soft circles into your skin, and you can’t help but sigh contentedly.
You’re so comfy. This is so easy. You’re right where you want to be.
Nothing much happens for the next while. You stay there, still and silent, as they go about their day; people come and go, to their rooms, Hongjoong and Mingi leaving for a while to get a hook recorded before they forget it, but you don’t move. Nor does Jongho. He takes his hand away from your head after a while, but his fingers stay in your mouth, resting atop your tongue.
You’re not really thinking about much. Time seems to slip by separate from you; independently, like you’re floating somewhere it can’t quite reach. You don’t fall asleep—but you’re not exactly awake, either. You’re just… there.
They feed you your lunch by hand, sandwiches cut up into small bites, then hold a bottle of water to your lips until you’ve downed at least half of it. Your plug comes out a little while later; you don’t want it to, of course, enjoying the feeling of fullness and the softness of your tale against your legs, but Yunho’s narrowed eyes and the threat of a whipping stops your whining before it can really start.
“You’ve had it in long enough,” he says. “I can easily go and get your leash. Do you need some lashes on your thighs with it to help the point sink in?”
You shake your head quickly, biting down on your lip as if to physically trap your protests in your throat. Yunho nods, humming, a noise halfway between amusement and satisfaction sounding out in the silence as he slowly eases the plug out of you.
“Good puppy,” he murmurs. “You’re going to start to come up now. Slowly. You’ve been down for a while, haven’t you?”
True to his words, you come down steadily, at your own pace. They don’t rush you; Jongho’s other hand returns to rest against your head where it had been before, caressing you slowly, his touch just heavy enough to feel grounding and stabilising as you come back to earth.
The paws are the first to come off, untied and pulled off of your hands so quietly you don’t even notice. Your ears are next. Your collar comes off only once you’ve been lifted off of your bed and settled by Jongho’s side.
“There we go,” he says. “Coming up, huh? In your own time, baby. You can speak whenever you want to.”
“Sir.” The word is quiet, mumbled, your face pressed into Jongho’s side, eyes half closed.
“I’m here,” he assures you. “You did well.”
His arm is wrapped around your shoulder, you realise, hand rubbing up and down your back. He’s slid it under your shirt so his skin is pressed directly against yours, and his hand is warm, the skin soft.
“It’s almost time for dinner,” he tells you. “Do you think you can eat?”
“Wanna stay here,” you respond. “Comfy.”
“You can eat here,” he says. “We’ll bring the food through, just this once.”
“Once?”
“Not really,” he says. “Usually we eat at the table. But I’m sure the others wouldn’t mind you eating in here when you want to. Especially when you’ve just been so good and sweet for us.”
Another hand, larger, comes to rest on your thigh, following the curve of it where it’s angled towards Jongho. “How’s the pup?” Mingi asks, his voice a low drawl.
“Still coming up, I think,” Jongho answers. “Not sure you still calling her pup is gonna help the process though.”
Mingi huff, snorting slightly. “That has nothing to do with the scene,” he says. “She looks like a little puppy all the time to me. Tiny and naughty and eager to please.”
“I suppose she does.”
“How’s your hole, honey?” It takes a second for you to register that Mingi is talking to you.
“Fine,” you respond. “Empty.”
He laughs. “I’ll bet. You take a plug well, don’t you? Good at having your ass full. You like it?”
“Like it,” you repeat. “Comfy.”
“I’m sure it is.”
They feed you your dinner, too, noodles in a light soup that Jongho balances in your lap while he feeds you small mouthfuls of it, praising you with each one. You’ve never been praised for something so unremarkable before.
You don’t do any more scenes that day, but the small, lingering pieces of the high and the peace and the calm fuzziness stay with you until nightfall.
San comes to check on you when you’re tucked in, just before you turn off the light. He’s in his pyjamas too, soft looking blue checkered ones, his glasses sitting on his nose and his feet snug in his navy blue slippers. He looks homely. Cozy. Like something you could hide away in.
He runs his hand up your body where it’s tucked beneath the blanket, from the bottom of your legs to your cheek; his hand lingers there for a second, cupping your face, and there’s nothing but softness in his eyes. “You did well today,” he says quietly.
“Thank you.”
He leans into you slightly, just a little, and for a moment you think he’s going to kiss you; where his lips would land is another question, of course, but something in his expression seems to speak to an intention along those lines.
But then he hesitates. Stops. Moves back again. The smile on his face is no less genuine even as he retreats.
He’s just starting to turn for the door when you speak, the words slipping past your lips before you can consider them.
“San,” you call quietly. “Stay?”
He pauses, smile fading and for one moment, ice cold, you think he’s going to say no and the illusion of care and fondness they’ve created for you over these past few days will shatter into tiny pathetic pieces. But then the smile comes back softer, gentler, and he nods, climbing into bed with you and pulling you into his arms. “Course,” he murmurs. “C’mere, puppy.”
His hold is strong and firm but not hard; it yields and gives where you want it to and holds you tight where you don’t. He, they, seem to do much the same.
“Why do you do this?” You ask, out of the blue. Sleepiness has always loosened your tongue a little. “Like, have a sub all together.”
“As opposed to what?” He asks.
You shrug. It feels like a trick question somehow, but he’s looking at you with nothing but patience. “One sub each, or hookups, or…girlfriends or something.”
He’s quiet for a moment; thoughtful. “Think of it like this,” he starts. “Everyone needs connection, right? And release. With our jobs we aren’t really able to meet those needs in a meaningful way; too busy for girlfriends, of course, and it can get messy as idols anyway. We had hookups, as well, but it didn’t do it for us.”
“Why not?”
“Because release on its own does nothing for us. It has to be both. There has to be connection, deep connection. We couldn’t get that from just sex. We were all feeling it but we weren’t sure what else to do other than, like, fuck each other, which, no.”
He makes a face, exaggerated and you giggle softly. He glances down at you with a small smile and adjusts you in his hold a little; now, held against his chest, you feel the low, calm vibrations of his voice as he speaks to you. “Then I just… started thinking about it. Saw someone online talking about their sub and it made me think. Not just about having a sub but about sharing with the others, too. We’d all tended to take dominant roles in sex, and when we were doing hookups we’d sometimes share a girl together, in twos or threes usually. Turns out we all wanted something deeper too, and we all get a lot of fulfilment from being in control. From taking care of someone, taking charge of them. Which led us here.”
“That makes sense,” you hum. “Do you think…do you still feel lacking anything, like you did before?”
He takes a second to think. “No,” he answers. “This feels right. In a job like ours your whole life is controlled; everything is decided for you. But with you, with this, we can have control. We can have responsibility and bear it. And by having it together we find our own bond with each other deepens. Hey, look at me.”
He suddenly shifts you, tilting your head upwards by the chin to meet his eyes. “Whatever happens, we’ll never take for granted this gift you’ve given us,” he says. “I want you to know that.”
“Gift?” You repeat. “What gift?”
“Your submission,” he responds. “Your surrender. Letting us have control when we usually have none. It’s not a small thing to us. Never would be.”
“Thank you.” It slips out without any thought; instinct rather than reply. It feels a little strange, to say it, not really certain what you’re thanking him for, but he hums like he knows exactly what you mean and pulls you closer.
You fall asleep that way, in his arms, wrapped in the shared silence.
told you it was coming back! thank you so much for waiting. i hadn’t anticipated how crazy this school year was going to be but im so glad to finally be able to continue this. i promise i will not make u wait that long again!!!
your comments and thoughts are SO appreciated and make me more motivated to continue my work on this. love🖤🖤🖤
Summary: Final chapter of the Sexual Education series. All 8 members join you in a session on your last night of your trip together.
Content warning: 18+ NO MINORS. GROUP SEX. Dom Ateez Sub reader. F/M and M/M content. MATZ WooHwa and WooSang moments. Nipple play. Oral sex. (F/m and m/m) Throat fucking. Masturbation. Voyeurism. Exhibitionism. Multiple orgasm. Overstimulation. Squirting. Eiffel Tower. Cum swallowing (f/m and m/m). Sex toys. Anal fingering (m). Dirty talk. P in V sex. Cum eating. She basically passes out from cumming so much. Creampie. Lots of cum tbh. Read at your own risk! May have missed some.
You were lounging in the living room of the AirBNB, feeling bittersweet about this being the last full day of the trip. Tomorrow you would return back home from school break and go back to classes. Back to reality. The entire trip had been one of unexpected pure sexual bliss. You had learned so much and had come out a completely new person. Not only did you have new skills but, a new appreciation for sex in general. Not having known anything about it before coming here, you were leaving with a real love for your own body and what you and others could do with and for it.
You also had grown fond of all 8 boys. Each of them had treated you so tenderly and made you feel so safe during the whole process. You didn’t know what it would be like or how they would be once you went back to reality, back to the real world. Would they still treat you normally? Would they pretend as if they didn’t know you well anymore? So much had changed for them as well. Life as you know it would be different and that scared you. So, you tried to cling on to every remaining second you had left in this house before you had to pack up and leave.
“Hey pretty.” Yunho found you spacing out while watching a show you had seen far too many times to count. “You doing okay?”
“Yeah.” You smiled at him. “I’m just trying to make the best of the last day, you know.”
“I don’t think sitting here watching tv and pouting is the best you can do.” He chuckled, sitting next to you and pulling you next to him which made you squeak.
“Okay. I admit, I’m a bit sad.” You shrugged. “I don’t want to leave yet. Go back to school. I had way too much fun here.”
“I think we all did.” Yunho smirked but his eyes stayed friendly. “You learned a lot during this trip, huh? Do you feel you’re a pro now?”
“A pro? No. I wouldn’t say that. I haven’t had that much practice.” You giggle. “But I’ve had some good teachers.”
“I’m glad we were able to teach you.” He pressed a kiss to your cheek. “And, you know, you can always ask for a refresh lesson once we get back. You know where my room is.”
“Really? So, this isn’t just a one time thing?” You ask him, a bit surprised.
“Did you really think that?” He almost looked insulted.
“Well, kinda. I thought this was all just.. a little fling. A one time thing. You all said we could pretend like this never happened when we got back so, I assumed when we got home tomorrow, that’s what would happen. We just wouldn’t speak of it again.” You explained, your voice falling quiet near the end.
“I see. I guess we did say that.” Yunho mumbled but looked at you curiously. “But, you don’t want that do you?”
You sat there silently for a moment and eventually shook your head ‘no’, not able to utter the word out loud.
“I don’t want that either.” Yunho admitted.
“Really?” You couldn’t help but smile, a warmth spreading through your chest at his confession.
“Really. I’ll be available to you anytime, beautiful. In fact-“ Yunho suddenly reached over and pulled you over his lap to straddle him. You instinctively wrapped your arms around his neck and nestled down onto him.
“I never really got to have you. Not like some of the others. I got to finger you which was quite the privilege but-“ he got closer to you, his lips brushing against yours. “-what I wouldn’t give to fuck you.”
“Then do it.” You told him, grinding down onto his growing erection through his pants.
“Right here?” He asked you and you nodded. “How brave you’ve become.”
Yunho kissed you fiercely and lifted you to lay you flat on the couch. He nestled between your thighs and rutted his erection into your core, his hard tip hitting you just in the right spot that had you moaning into his mouth. His hand pushed its way under your shirt and bra, grabbing your breast and giving it a squeeze. The soft skin feeling like silk against his calloused hands.
His mouth moved from yours to your jaw, past your throat, and down your collarbone. Using his hands he swiftly removed your shirt and bra. His lips traveling down further to pepper kisses down your chest until his lips made it far enough to wrap around one of your hard nipples. He sucked on the sensitive nub, his tongue flicking over it rapidly while his other hand pinched and played with the other.
On the other side of the room, Seonghwa stood watching as he leaned up against the wall. You didn’t notice at first as you were too caught up with what Yunho was doing to you. But, once you did, you tried pushing his head away.
“Yunho! Stop!” You whispered harshly, making him turn his head and look over. However, Yunho just smirked at Seonghwa who did the same back. You were confused, wondering why he was not embarrassed.
“What, pretty? You don’t want him to watch me make you feel good?” Yunho cooed at you with a fake pout. “Am I not doing a good job?”
“What? Oh-“ Things were finally starting to click. He was into this.
Yunho dipped his head down but this time traveling down your waist, navel, and to your waistband. He wrapped his hands in the waistband of your pants and tugged them town, taking them off and leaving you naked on the couch.
“So fucking pretty.” He told you. “Isn’t she, Seonghwa?”
“She really is.” Seonghwa said, slowly walking over to you both. Your heart started to beat a bit faster. “She tastes amazing too. I would know.”
“So I’ve heard.” He said, biting his lower lip. “I think I’ll have a taste.”
Yunho used his hands to gently spread your legs apart, your wet core spreading open like a flower for him. He groaned in delight at the sight. He dipped his head down without any hesitation, his heavy tongue hitting your clit with direct precision. He wasted no time lapping at the swollen bud, making you moan out loud in the open living room.
“Does that feel good, baby?” Seonghwa asked you, palming himself over his jeans. He was hard. Rock hard. “Is he making you feel good.”
“Yes.” You moaned, yes fluttering as Yunho wrapped his lips around your clit. “So good.”
“Good.” Seonghwa started to unzip his pants, releasing his throbbing cock and started to jerk himself off. “You deserve to feel good, baby.”
Without giving it much thought you reached out in Seonghwa’s direction, asking permission to touch. He stepped forward immediately and let you take his shaft in your palm. You jerked him off the best you could while trying to keep a steady pace. Yunho was still lapping at your pussy with his expert mouth. He was moaning into it now, vibrating your sensitive nerves with each lick and suck of his lips. Your hips bucked, pushing your pussy harder into his face as he licked your cunt.
Suddenely, you felt Yunho’s finger teasing your entrance. He had slithered his hand up between your thighs and pushed his fingertip against you. With slight pressure, he pushed his finger up inside of you with ease. His long digit curling up inside of you at the perfect angle that had you gasping with every push and pull.
“Fuck Yunho, you’re eating her pussy so good.” Seonghwa told him, his voice a soft moan. He rocked his hips into your hand as you were now frozen from the pleasure Yunho was giving you. “I think she’s about to cum.”
You felt as if your brain wasn’t working right. Your hips were on autopilot as they rocked back and forth across Yunho’s face, his tongue pushed out against your clit as you rode it. You whined absentmindedly from the pleasure, completely lost from it. You felt your climax building fast, ready to hit at any moment and both of them knew.
“Come on baby. You’re almost there.” Seonghwa cooed at you. “Cum on his tongue like a good girl for me.”
After a few more licks, you came dramatically. Loudly. Your legs wrapping around his head like a vice grip which he graciously put up with until you gradually came down from you high. When he finally was free from your clutches, he came up for air gasping, his hair a mess on the top of his head.
“Fuck, I’m sorry.” You apologized, feeling embarrassed.
“Don’t apologize. That was so fucking hot.” Another voice said from the other side of the room. Wooyoung and Mingi were standing at the entrance of the living room now, pants tight with erections. You felt your whole body get hot in a bit of embarrassment but also.. excitement?
“So were you not going to invite us to the party?” Mingi asked the room with fake disappointment.
“We’re just getting started.” Seonghwa said, his voice full of a darkness that admittedly excited you.
“I like the sound of that.” Wooyoung said. “Hi beautiful.”
“Hi.” You said, your voice shy.
“Cute.” Mingi chuckled. “She’s been with all of us but she’s still shy.”
“That’s part of her charm.” Seonghwa said, sitting down by you. He took your cheek and pressed a kiss to your lips. It was soft at first but it deepened quickly. His hand rested on your knee but made its way up your thigh, parting it and finding your soaked and sensitive core. Once his fingers touched your swollen clit, you gasped into his mouth.
“Shit.” Wooyoung hissed, palming himself over his pants as he watched Seonghwa softly rub small circles over your clit. Mingi took a different route, sitting on the other side of you and placing his hand on your other thigh. His fingers drawing patters on your soft skin, his fingers going higher and higher on your inner thigh until you opened them up more and more, giving all of them a better view. You were spread wide for all of them now, your soaked pussy glistening and wet as Seonghwa rubbed your clit. Small whimpers left your lips and bled into your kisses with Seonghwa with every stroke of his fingers. Wooyoung and Yunho broke, taking out their cocks and jerking off to the view.
“Can I put my fingers inside of you, pretty girl?” Mingi whispered into your ear as his fingers kept climbing up your thigh. You broke your kiss with Seonghwa and looked over at Mingi with pleading eyes, frantically nodding your head and planting a kiss on his lips now. While he kissed you, you felt two of his long fingers slowly slip into your aching cunt. You moaned loudly into his mouth as you felt his fingers curve up into you, Seonghwa’s fingers still rubbing your clit as he sat on your opposite side.
Mingi started to drag his digits inside and out, his pace steady and precise, picking up over time. His fingertips started to rub right over your g-spot which made everything so much more intense, a familiar feeling rushing towards you. You pulled away from his mouth quickly.
“Fuck! I’m- I’m gonna cum!” You warned them, but they only quickened their speed. They wanted you to cum, and cum hard.
“Come on baby. Be a good girl.” Mingi told you in your ear. “Cum all over our fingers.”
You screamed, your orgasm gushing out of you and onto the floor. The boys didn’t let up. Mingi continued to push his fingers in and out of you, making sure to pull every gush of your orgasm out of you he could to the delight of the others who moved close in hopes to catch the droplets on their skin.
“Okay, let’s give her a break.” Hongjoong’s voice suddenly rang through the fuzziness. “I have some water baby.”
Hongjoong grabbed your chin and lifted the bottle to your lips, helping you sip down the liquid. As your heartbeat started to come down and your head stopped spinning, you were able to focus more on your surroundings. The people in the room had suddenly doubled and you realized that everyone in the house was in the room. Hongjoong, San, Yeosang, and Jongho had come to see what all the noise was about.
“All better now?” Hongjoong asked you after you finished your water.
“Um, yes.” You answered quietly.
“Good.” He said. “Now. What exactly is going on and why weren’t we invited?”
“Don’t take it personal guys.” Wooyoung said, dick still in his hand. “Just a little impromptu group session going on here.”
“Really? Well, I guess that really wasn’t on the lesson plan so, we’ll let it slide.” Hongjoong smirked. “I’m just glad we caught you just as it was getting good.”
“I see you brought a part favor Yeosang.” Mingi clapped his hands together once in excitement. You craned your head around and your eyes settled on the wand vibrator that his fist was wrapped around, ready to go. Your stomach twisted in a knot of anxious anticipation.
“Hold on guys, let’s check in first before we just jump into this.” San walked over to you and crouched down, lifting your chin up so you’d look at him. “How are you feeling baby?”
“I’m okay. I’m just.. a bit overwhelmed I guess.”
“Guys we need to give her some room.” Jongho ordered the others, using his hands to push them back a bit out of the way. You turned your attention back to San.
“That’s okay. We didn’t expect this to happen either, really.” San smiled kindly at you. “You are a lot braver than you were when you were first with us in this living room talking to us about your lack of experience.”
“Yeah.” You nodded. “I guess I am.”
“We just want to have some fun. It’s our last night here with you and I think the best way for us to celebrate is by spending it doing what we’ve been doing for the last few days. If that’s okay with you?” He said softly again, his hand gently rubbing your cheek to soothe your worries. “We’ll stop whenever you want us to. And we’ll be gentle.”
“Unless you don’t want us to be.” Wooyoung stated in the back which had his receiving an elbow in the ribs from Hongjoong.
“But how.. how would I sleep with all of you at once?”
“Don’t worry, pretty. We’ll guide you through it. Haven’t we done such a good job showing you everything else?” San smiled his dazzling smile. “You trust us right?”
“Yes. I trust you all.” You told them. “I’ll try it.”
“Good. Now, why don’t we start, hmm?” He reached out for you, helping you sit up better on the couch. “Boys? Who wants to take the lead?”
“You guys got the most of her.” Mingi said, walking forward. “This is my first time getting a real taste. Baby, can you bend over for me?”
You complied and turned around quickly on all fours, ass in the air. Mingi grabbed your ass and gave it one firm smack that made you yelp out in shock but not in pain, his hand massaging the area to soothe where he had just giving you the blow. As he kept one hand on your cheek, the other hand dragged its fingers down between your thighs and to your soaking wet cunt. When you felt his long fingers once again touching your heat, you let out a pathetic moan in desperation and pushed yourself back onto his hand.
“Look at her, already ready for him.” Yeosang mumbled, watching as you slid yourself back onto his fingers. He pushed and pulled his digits inside and out until he felt you were ready then nestled up behind you, taking out his hard cock and lining it up with your entrance. He pushed his tip against your hole and pressed forward but it was still a bit too tight against his size.
“Mingi..” you whimpered, the noise making the room go feral. The other guys had started taking off their clothes as they watched the scene unfold in front of them, their hard cocks twitching in their palms as they slowly jerked themselves off. Mingi was still trying to push himself inside of you, taking time to rub his dick between your swollen lips and against your slit to try and get you ready enough to take him.
“I think she needs some help, guys.” Mingi said, his voice a bit strained from his own pleasure.
Jongho stepped forward and placed a knee down on the couch next to your head and used his hand to lift your head upward. His cock was right next to your face, his tip dripping in precum from watching Mingi struggle to fit his giant cock into your pussy. He used his thumb to stroke your cheek and looked down at you with a fondness that seemed almost confusing for the erotic nature of the scene.
“Suck my cock. See if that will help you take him.” Jongho told you. You opened your mouth and took him inside, swirling your tongue around his purple tip once before dipping your head down to take his entire length into your throat down to his base.
“Shit-“ Jongho cursed under his breath which got murmurs of approval from the others, some of them getting more comfortable with each other out of your view. Hongjoong and Seonghwa pressing up against each other, rutting their erection together while they teased each other with their tongues. Wooyoung and Yeosang followed their lead, getting familiar with each other as well by taking each others cocks in their hands and pumping each others members slowly as they watched you take two cocks yourself.
The longer you savored Jongho’s cock the wetter you got. Finally, with one firm push of Mingi’s hips, he was finally able to slide himself inside of you. You groaned deeply around Jongho as Mingi settled deep inside of you, his hips pressing against your ass. Your head stopping its movements briefly as you adjusted to the stretch and sensation of being penetrated from both sides.
“Fuck you’re still so tight.” Mingi cursed, pulling himself out of you slowly only to slam back into you with an intensity that had you falling onto Jongho’s cock, gagging you slightly. He continued this over and over, using his hands to spread your ass to get a better look at where your two bodies connected to watch how you gripped him. A ring of white cream collecting around his cock that collected more and more each time he thrusted inside.
You were a moaning mess, completely unable to focus on what you were doing with your mouth. You were trying your best to continue to suck off Jongho but, Mingi was so distracting. Too overpowering. Jongho had taken matters into his own hands, literally, taking your face gently in his hands and started to thrust into your throat.
Being fucked at both ends was something you would have never thought of being a possibility. But, experience it here in this moment, you couldn’t believe you had been shielded from this pure level of pleasure. It made you feel hot in all the best ways and, with how Mingi was stroking into you, it would only be a matter of time before you would cum again in this new way.
“Fuck, her thighs are shaking. I think she’s about to fucking cum.” San practically whimpered as he watched you, warning Mingi since he knew your body well. As well as any of them.
“Yeah? Are you about to cum baby?” Mingi cooed at you, deepening his voice and quickening his thrusts. “Somebody come rub her clit.”
Yunho stepped up and pushed his hand under your body and between your thighs, finding your swollen clit. You tried to scream but couldn’t, choking on Jongho who was close to cumming himself as he buried himself in the back of your throat. Yunho’s fingers rubbed quick circles around your bud, his fingertips brushing against Mingi’s cock as he fucked you ruthlessly.
“Fuck- I feel her tightening up.” Mingi said, his voice straining as he fought to not spill inside of you just yet.
“Come on pretty, give it up for us.” Yunho said, pushing down harder on your clit and rubbing side to side. “Fucking cum on his cock like a good fucking girl.”
You came in an obscene fashion, gushing all over the couch and floor while your body convulsed. Mingi held up your body to prevent you from collapsing while Jongho was not as strong, cumming deep in your throat from watching you squirt over Mingi’s cock. Thankfully you were coherent enough to swallow the salty load with only a tiny bit of struggle.
“Fuck- oh my god.” Jongho gasped, pulling out of your throat and allowing you to take your first full gasp of air. “Who the fuck taught her how to do that again?”
“She’s a natural.” Hongjoong said, walking over and placing a hard kiss to your quivering lips. He could still taste the saltiness of Jongho on your mouth. “I want her next.”
He laid you down and climbed on top of you, nestling himself between your thighs. He slipped into you with no problem after Mingi had stretched you with his girth. Still, you were just as sensitive from being filled by his cock regardless.
“Fuck!” You cried out. “Please be gentle.”
“I’ll take good care of you love, don’t worry.” Hongjoong whispered in your ear, rocking himself in and out of your sensitive cunt. While fucking you, he peppered kissed on your neck with small nips at your skin here and there. You turned your head to the side to savor the feeling and caught a glimpse of Wooyoung and Yeosang touching each other. The vision made you gasp but, not in disgust. Down below, you started to throb around Hongjoong’s cock intensely. He paused to take a look at what you saw and chuckled at the discovery.
“Do you like what you see?” He whispered to you. “Two pretty boys playing with each other?”
You nodded, your eyes glued to the two of them as they continued to play and kiss each other.
“You’re full of surprises still.” Hongjoong mumbled, still rutted deep inside of you. “Wooyoung. Yeosang. She really likes what you’re doing. I can feel her squeezing my cock watching you.”
“Really?” Wooyoung smirked, pulling away from Yeosang’s lips. “Then let’s give her a show.”
Wooyoung dropped down to his knees in front of Yeosang who very eagerly lined up his cock with Wooyoung’s awaiting mouth. Wooyoung took his pretty plump lips and kissed the tip of Yeosang’s swollen tip, smearing his clear precum on them like gloss, before slowly taking him inch by inch into his throat down to his base. Yeosang groaned, grabbing Wooyoung by the back of his head and pushing his hips into his face over and over. Wooyoung’s soft gags had your eyes fluttering along with the butterflies in your stomach. You had never seen anything so filthy. So intimate. You continued to watch him fuck Wooyoung’s throat as Hongjoong started to brutally fuck into your pussy, his cock hitting your g-spot just right.
“God, listen to her fucking whine.” San said, walking forward to jerk himself off right over you.
“It has to be from watching them.” Jongho said, referring to Wooyoung and Yeosang. “Two boys. Who knew?”
“Then I have the perfect idea.” Seonghwa said, coming over to the couch and getting behind Hongjoong. You pulled your eyes away from the boys just for a moment, to see what he was up to. He whispered something in Hongjoong’s ear, saying something you were unable to hear but; Hongjoong nodded and smirked.
Settling behind Hongjoong, Seonghwa spit on his hand and put his hand between Hongjoong’s cheeks. When Hongjoong pulled out of you on one of his thrusts, Seonghwa’s lubed up fingers slipped inside of his puckered hole, making him whimper in your ear. The sound was enough to almost make you cum.
Seonghwa fingered Hongjoong as he was fucking you. Each time Hongjoong pulled out of you, he pushed down and onto Seonghwa’s waiting fingers. His whimpers sending a shockwave of overwhelming erotic euphoria to your core. Seonghwa’s fingers hitting his prostate every time he pulled out of you, and every thrust into you was a direct rub against your g-spot.
“Fuck-“ you whimper, feeling another orgasm approaching quickly. You turned back to watch Yeosang and Wooyoung and found Yeosang flushed, mouth agape and panting. Wooyoung had his cock in his hand pleasuring himself wile Yeosang was seconds away from spilling himself into Wooyoung’s mouth. The anticipation began to build, Hongjoong’s moans in your ear making everything even hotter.
“Fuck, I’m gonna cum-“ Yeosang warned him, holding his head to push him away but Wooyoung doubled down. You felt your core tighten as Hongjoong’s cock slipped in and out as you watched and you began to whimper uncontrollably, your pussy tightening around his cock. Then, quickly after, Yeosang emptied his cum into Wooyoung’s mouth. His hips stuttering as he emptied every last drop onto his tongue, grunting as Wooyoung sucked down every last drop.
The scene sent you flying, your orgasm hitting you hard. Your walls collapsing around Hongjoong’s cock, creaming around him. Your cunt practically choking him, milking him, and making him cum as Seonghwa fingered his prostate while he whimpered almost pathetically in your ear. It was an orgasm even he was shocked by.
He pulled out of you, his cock dripping all his cum into your cunt. The boys craned their heads to get a glimpse of the view and practically licked their lips as they saw the white cum leak from your entrance and onto the couch.
“Fuck, you look divine.” San drooled. “Let’s see how much more you can fit in there.”
“Wait, Sannie- ahh!” You cried out as he pushed himself into you, Hongjoong’s cum pushing deep inside of you and squishing out around San’s cock.
“Remember your safe words baby.” He reminded you, then pushed your thighs back to your chest to rock into you. Your cunt was so sensitive you felt almost like it was not part of your body. Wooyoung came over and sat beside you, reaching out to rub his hand across your chest, his fingertips finding the hard peaks of your nipples and giving them gentle tugs over and over.
“I think it’s time.” Yeosang said, walking over with his wand he had brought and pushing it between you and San. He nestled it up against your red, swollen, clit which made you throw your head back and thrash around. Yeosang smirked, knowing what was to come, and clicked the first speed on the vibrator. Your cheeks and lips started to tremble and your mouth fell agape when you felt the toy come to life, the shaking vibration spreading all the way down through your core to San’s thick cock as he fucked you.
“Fuuuck. That’s it baby.” He groaned, feeling you tighten against around him. “Yeo, turn it up.”
Yeosang turned up the speed which had your back arching off the back of the couch. Wooyoung was still playing with your nipples, enticed with the view in front of him. He leaned down to kiss you, swallowing your moans in his mouth to his delight.
“Fuck, look at her.” Mingi mumbled to the others.
“He’s fucking the cum straight into her. That’s so fucking hot.” Seonghwa groaned.
“She loves her nipples being played with. Look how she squirms? Go suck on her other nipple Yunho.” Jongho said, urging Yunho to sit on the other side which he quickly did.
With San fucking you from the front, Wooyoung on one side, Yunho on the other playing with your tits, and Yeosang above you with his magic wand, you were completely overcome with pleasure while the others watched.
At some point, and you don’t know when, you lost yourself in the pleasure. Time beginning to fade and your mind seemingly disconnecting from your body. Your moans turned into mindless babbles and the wet sounds coming from your core almost became embarrassing sopping, your arousal dripping down San’s shaft and balls. Your thighs started to shake and your walls were practically choking his cock, letting him know you were close.
“She’s gonna cum, I can feel it.” He grunted, his hips fucking into you even harder.
“Are you gonna cum again for us?” Wooyoung asked you, his fingers still brushing over your sensitive nipple. But words failed you, your mouth opening but only silent gasps coming out. “Hmm?”
“Fuck, she can’t even speak.” Hongjoong said in elated delight as he watched.
“Come on baby.” Yeosang told you, hitting speed the button one more time. “Cum.”
You came violently, screaming as you gushed onto San and those close by. Your walls pulling his orgasm out of him prematurely from how hard you clamped down around him, milking his white ropes from him with a shutter.
“Holy shit-!” He yelled as he was soaked, his orgasm hitting him hard.
“Fuck, look at that!” You don’t know who even said it, you didn’t care. Your brain was off. Disconnected.
“I have to make her do that.” Another voice said and suddenly, another cock was inside of you, thrusting in and out. It was Wooyoung and, with Yeosang still holding the vibrator on your clit, it only took a few thrusts of his cock to make you squirt again. The sight making Wooyoung release his load inside of you, just like Hongjoong and San had.
One by one, each boy took their turn. Jongho was next. Then Yunho. Seonghwa. Mingi. And finally, Yeosang. When they were all done, you had cum dripping all over your thighs and cunt. Droplits of your squirt were spattered all over the living room and your face was completely flushed. Burning. You felt exhausted but also complete bliss. Every nerve-ending in your body felt alive, reborn. You were not leaving this place the same person you had come in. Especially not now. Not after this.
Seonghwa had one last craving for you. Leaning down next to you over the couch and extending his tongue over your clit to lap at your swollen bud. You cried out when the tip of it hardly touched you, wanting to run. But his hands held you hostage. Wooyoung joined him, kneeling in front of you and placing his tongue right next to his, lapping away the drops of cum from the others that dripped from your cunt. Both of their tongues intertwining over your clit periodically as if they were French kissing. It was far too erotic. Too sensual. Having these two pretty boys lick the cum off your overly sensitive cunt was far beyond anything your once innocent mind could comprehend.
Your body gave you one more orgasm, your clit cumming on both of their tongues as they kissed your cunt. But quickly, you felt yourself begin to lose consciousness. Seonghwa quickly caught on as your legs fell slack around his neck, making him pull away from you and grab your face in his hands.
“Hey. Hey, are you okay?” Seonghwa asked you, stroking your face with the back of his hand. You felt dizzy, head fuzzy, and you didn’t dare to sit up right now. “Can somebody go get her some water please? Maybe some Gatorade?”
“On it.” Yunho said, taking big steps to get to the kitchen faster.
“We may have overdone it.” Hongjoong said, a bit worried. “Put the throw pillow under her head.”
The boys all rushed to take care of you, helping you take sips of the drinks they brought and getting you propped up on the couch and covered up with a blanket. Finally, after a few minutes and a bottle and a half of water later, your brain finally began to make sense of the world again.
“So.. that was intense.” You giggled.
“Oh thank god! I thought we broke her for good.” Wooyoung said dramatically, hands on each side of his head as if it was about to explode.
“I’m glad you’re still with us.” Jongho patting the top of your head.
“Yeah, for a moment you had us worried.” San smiled in relief.
“I’m okay. I promise.” You reassured them. “But, did I do okay? Like, did you guys enjoy it?”
“Yes.” They all said in unison which made you laugh from deep in your chest.
“I’m glad. I guess that’s means I passed my final exam?”
“With flying fucking colors.” Wooyoung told you confidently.
“I still can’t believe I did.. that.” You giggled, replaying some of the moments of the last hour in your mind.
“You really have come so far.” Yeosang said proudly.
“Really. I mean, you started this trip as a virgin and you finished with an orgy. That’s definitely impressive.” Mingi told you, reminding you once again that tomorrow was the end.
“So, that’s it then?” You said, feeling a bit sad. “We go back tomorrow and it’s all over?”
“Like I said before, you know where I live. You can come knock on my door any time you need some company. Any type you want.” Yunho said, winking at you.
“Same here.”
“Yes.”
“Me too.” All of them say a mix of agreement, leaving you open to the option to go and see any of them if you wanted, whenever you wanted.
“So, it doesn’t have to be over after today?” You smile at the realization, your heart fluttering.
“You’re stuck with us. Plus, all schools have class reunions right? Think of it like that. But.. with sex. Regularly.”
“Shut up Wooyoung.”
And so the bliss continued long after the trip, along with your sexual education.
———————- The End ——————-
Thank you to everyone who patiently waited for the conclusion of my first and LAST mf series. This was the most challenging yet rewarding thing I’ve ever written and I can’t thank all of you enough for supporting my work during this journey. Writing this series was so challenging and finding the desire to write sometimes didn’t come and I can’t tell you how close I was to just canceling this chapter all together and not finishing this but it was you guys who inspired me to keep writing (and also Ateez bc duh they’re hot and sexy and I love them.) I really hope it was worth the wait and that you can come back and read this series over and over.
