#bc it would be an invasion of privacy' | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lisired · 10 months ago

Text

smile for the camera

pairing: haechan x (f) reader x jisung (ft. a reoccurring renjun who’s mainly there for suspenseful purposes)

genre/warnings: smut, cheating, unprotected sex, dom!haechan, switch!jisung, switch!reader, jisung is a virgin, degradation, praise, spanking, pussy slapping, sexting, rough kink, edging, really bad 3some scenes bc I am terrible @ balancing attention, oral (both m/f receiving), f I missed smth lmk

summary: upon accidentally finding a video of you and your boyfriend haechan doing some very sexual things, jisung knows that he shouldn’t watch it. he knows that it would be an extreme invasion of privacy, but he’s unable to control himself when he sees the thumbnail. so he settles for only watching 30 seconds. except, 30 seconds turns into 30 minutes, and by then he’s buried himself too deep into a life-changing situation—or in which jisung’s terrible at keeping secrets.

wored count: 19.8k of pure filfth (what the fuck is wrong with me)

author’s note: this is a repost of an oldie but goldie, i think. i hope. feedback is appreciated!

Fuck.

Jisung knows that there’s a plethora and a half reasons why this is a terrible idea. For one, it’s an invasion of privacy. The thumbnail is explicit, leaving zero room for ignorance—the bare, nearly naked sight of you and Haechan blankets over the screen, and if that isn’t enough to tell him that this isn’t something he was supposed to see, then the rather intimate position you and your boyfriend are in is quite the message.

He didn’t mean to find it. He wasn’t searching, wasn’t looking—not for this video in particular anyways. He was simply going through the camera roll in search of something else, and happened to stumble across what is so obviously you and Haechan’s sextape. If he had known that there was inappropriate things on there, Jisung would have asked for permission before he went on Haechan’s laptop. Yet the shocking discovery has him filled to the brim with curiosity, despite him knowing it would be wrong.

Thirty seconds. I can watch thirty seconds, then cut it off, he thinks. What’s thirty seconds out of a minutes-long video? You and Haechan can go for hours, the sounds you make whenever you stay the night at the dorm keep Jisung up long enough to know that. A part of him doesn’t mind since you sound so sweet, and he can’t help but imagine what it would be like to take Haechan’s place, to have you crying his name. No, he shakes his head. He doesn’t need to think like that. It’s bad enough that he’s watching this video. So he looks around the room a couple times, even though no one’s home except Renjun, and he’s asleep. Then he reluctantly presses play, turning up the volume a couple notches. He’d never miss the opportunity to hear you.

The tape starts off quick, you already sitting on your knees between your boyfriend’s legs as you took him in your mouth. Haechan pointed the camera in a way that gives Jisung a near-perfect image of what it would be like to have you sucking him off, with your lips wrapped perfectly around his cock and your eyes so round as you gazed up at him innocently. If you looked at him like that, Jisung would probably cum on the spot.

“Gonna show the camera what a whore you are for me?” Haechan said, out of Jisung’s vision for the most part and he prefers it that way. He’d feel too guilty looking at his friend’s face, and of course he’ll feel even more guilty looking at yours, but he’ll suppress those feelings until he inevitably sees you in person.

Then-you nodded a little in response, looking so desperate and eager to please. If only you knew Jisung would be watching this, would you have still agreed to filming yourself so explicitly? He doubts that you would’ve, it isn’t like your relationship has ever been anything other than platonic. He’s nothing more than the best friend of the man you’re dating, of course you only see him as a friend, too. Nothing more.

“Then get to work, baby.”

It took nothing more for you to comply, sucking your boyfriend’s dick in your mouth while your tongue swirled alive. Your hand wrapped around him too, grip not too heavy, yet not too loose either. It’s no surprise to Jisung, but you look amazing with a cock stuffed between your lips and he imagines it’s him instead. You’d probably feel just as good as you look. Honestly, Jisung’s never had anything other than his own hands around his dick, and you look so skilled that he knows you’d be promising.

Even if he couldn’t see, he can hear. Haechan’s a moaner - quite a loud one - and he’s making it obvious you’re doing a great job with how utterly verbal he is. All the moans and praises spilling from between his lips had you soaking and motivated you to work harder.

By the time Jisung thinks to check the timestamp, he’s already more than thirty seconds in. This sends him into mini-panic, but he slowly decides it wouldn’t hurt to watch a little more. So he does, in too deep to stop.

02:05, you looked up at Haechan with a gaze that gets Jisung hard. 06:48, you were gagging because Haechan had gotten a little rough on you, tugging at your hair and using his hands to control you, facefucking you. 07:12, 10:22, 12:57, by the time Jisung’s thirteen minutes in, Haechan’s patience had dissipated and he’d thrown you onto the bed, claiming he wanted to cum in you—not your mouth. Then Jisung has this thought of what it would be like to cum inside you, and wonders if one day you’d ever let him. He knows that you wouldn’t, but it’s still a fun fantasy.

Jisung finds himself enjoying this new angle better. Your whole body is on display, thanks to Haechan taking off your undergarments as well as the remaining portions of his own clothes. He had you on all fours, waiting impatiently for him as he teased your slit from behind you, gliding his cock over it while being careful not to slide in. The moment you whined, Jisung pulls his own dick out, not entirely, but enough to where his fingers can touch him in place of yours.

“So needy,” Haechan cooed, brushing his cock against your wetness, “you’re so wet. All for me, right? Tell me who got you this wet.”

“You,” you muttered.

Haechan drew back, sounding a desperate whimper from you, “Speak up, baby. Can’t hear you.”

“You!” you said it louder, adding something extra you knew your boyfriend would like enough to quit his teasing and finally slide in, “you, Hyuck, only you. Want you s-so bad.”

Just like that, Haechan gave back in, finally slipping himself in and stretching you far and wide. “Fuck, baby,” he groaned, gripping your waist and rocking against your hips.

At the same time, Jisung strokes himself, watching the way you let your boyfriend toy with you, how needily you take everything he gives you. He thinks you look beautiful, your back in a pretty arch, your thighs and breast shaking as your body lurches forward at the impact of Haechan’s thrusts, your face—god, do you look gorgeous when you moan. Maybe there is a privilege in being a viewer. Haechan couldn’t, though Jisung can see your face perfectly.

“Harder,” you begged, your voice practically muffled as you whimpered into the pillows and mattress, yet he still heard you, “harder, Hyuck, please, please, please?”

“Baby want’s it harder?” He chuckled. “You’ve been so good for me, so I’ll give you everything my sweet girl wants.”

Watching Haechan touch you in all the places Jisung oh so desperately wishes he was, he feels like he’s going insane. You’re so incredibly fucked out, so out of it that the pleasure has practically locked you inside of a trance. Knowing you’re a sucker for contact, your boyfriend toyed with your body a little more, rubbing your clit to heighten the feeling, slowly yet steadily climbing his hands up your skin until they’re brushing your chest. Jisung moans when you do, unable to shake his urge to be inside you. Just one time, he begs to no one in particular, one time, and he’ll be able to happily move on with his life.

It feels like with every moment that passes, he’s closer to the edge. He’s blocked out everything else in the world, hyper-focused on your body and face. Your mouth agape, the pretty sounds that tumbled loose every time your boyfriend hit the spot, how caught up in the pleasure you were. If you gave him a chance, he thinks he could make you feel good, too. Sure, all the experience he has is with the palm of his hand, and he’s no where near as experienced as your boyfriend, but with a little guidance, he thinks he’d make you crack.

Though right now, he’s about to crack.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Jisung’s been here plenty enough times before to know that’s he’s almost there—not necessarily watching you like this, but on those occasions when you stay over and go at it with Haechan during the dead nights where you think no one is awake, where he’s secretly hearing you and shutting his eyes, imagining a twisted fantasy of you and him. He even sometimes does it when you’re not there, getting off to the memory of your pretty lips or gentle fingers, both around his cock. Up until now, it worried him that the thought of fucking your mouth kept crawling stealthily back inside his brain. You’re so gorgeous, so cute and loving. Though upon seeing you beg for Haechan to be rougher with you, witnessing secondhand how you took your boyfriend’s length despite him forcing it down your throat, he thinks you can handle it.

Fuuuuucck. Jisung bites at his bottom lip as he cums, shutting his eyes as the pressure breaks through his body. It’s so intense, taking everything in him not to make noise as his cum shoots into his pants.

When he’s done, it takes him a couple seconds to blink back in. Then the realization of what he’s done hits, following with the guilt and shame of his actions. He always feels bad after he cums to you, but this was different. This time, he had done something inexcusable, and he can’t help but wonder about how you’d feel if you found out. Would you think he’s a creep? Could you ever look at him the same again? Jisung doesn’t think he can live with that, so he quickly exits the tab and discards all evidence of his activity, shutting the laptop and buttoning back up his pants. He’ll definitely need to wash those himself.

Swiftly, he swoops the laptop up, and walks into the hall to put it back. The video he was originally looking for is long-forgotten, and he spent over half an hour watching you and Haechan. Jisung’s a terrible liar. If Haechan comes back before he can put his laptop back, he’s toast.

“Why do you have Haechan’s MacBook?”

Jisung freezes. Fuck, he forget about Renjun.

“I don’t,” he winces, realizing that’s a boldfaced lie. He has puppy stickers on his MacBook. Unmistakable puppy stickers, all your doing. “Okay, so maybe I do—”

Renjun glares.

“Fine, I totally do! But I wasn’t doing anything, I was just trying to find that video of Jeno and Haechan from the beach!” Jisung defends himself like he’s being accused of murder, “You know Haechan keeps everything on his laptop!”

Renjun nods his head. Valid. He’s still skeptical, but he doesn’t care enough to further interrogate the younger, so he just shrugs and walks into the living room. Jisung sighs in relief. He’s gotten away with it for now. Now he just needs to put the laptop back in Haechan’s room and pretend that what happened never actually happened.

Jisung’s been acting weird lately.

No scooting next to you on the couch and lying his head in your lap. No asking you how your day has been. No shyly waving at you whenever you first walk through the dorm door. No awkward hello’s (hell, he’s hardly even speaking to you.)

Even when you try and speak to him, his answers are plain and simple.

How’s your day? Fine.

Did you guys have a good practice? It was nice.

Have you been thinking about trying any new hair colors? Not really.

You don’t think he’s even looking at you. And Jisung’s really not that shy as you originally thought him out to be, after he got to know you a little, he was holding eye contact with you during conversations just fine. He’s a confident speaker even. But you try not to overthink things and try to get used to the emptiness without his normal self, chalking it up to him having a bad week or something. It’s normal, everyone has those.

Mission unsuccessful. You are the queen of overthinking. In fact, you are literally the walking definition of overthinking. If someone Googled the meaning of overthink, your name would probably pop up next to it.

So you turn to your all-time favorite therapist, AKA your boyfriend.

“Is it just me, or has Jisung been acting different lately?”

You’re at the dorms, in the middle of folding laundry. Haechan stands near you, doing absolutely nothing. Normally the guys would absolutely never let you do their laundry, and it’s Haechan’s turn this week, but you offered and somewhat aggressively insisted on folding, so he let you. He knows that you willingly do chores when there’s something on your mind and you’re trying to get it off but you can’t, so he was aware there was only a matter of time before you asked him some ridiculous question.

Your boyfriend blinks, not expecting the question, but if he’s caught off-guard then he conceals it quickly. “Just you, babe.”

You frown, “Think about it. He’s been acting so weird.”

“Jisung’s always weird,” Haechan laughs, “I haven’t noticed anything. He seems the same to me. Why are you so worried about him anyways?”

“Because he’s being weird, Haechan, I’m telling you. He doesn’t wave at or greet me anymore, doesn’t sit next to me during movies, and he won’t even talk to me anymore! I asked him if there was any hair colors he wanted to try and he said not really. He always has a list of hell no’s and shit that’s on his bucket list. This isn’t normal, Hyuck,” you ramble, halting in the middle of folding some Adidas sweatshirt.

Haechan pauses, rewinding a little and realizing that you may have a point. A small point, but a point nonetheless. “Well now that you mentioned it, I don’t remember having to hyper watch him during movie nights.”

“Exactly, because he doesn’t lay in my lap!”

“Thank God, maybe he’s finally learning boundaries,” Haechan says, relieved if that’s the case. Jisung’s never been particularly touchy with you, but he does use you like a human pillow during movie nights. Not that you mine, but your slightly possessive boyfriend does. “I was gonna kill him if he kept that shit up any longer.”

“Babe,” you whine, “seriously.”

“Oh, I am being serious. But I’ll ask the guys if they’ve noticed anything,” and as if perfectly on-cue, Renjun walks into the living room, “Yo Renjun, you think Jisung’s been acting weird lately?”

Renjun shrugs. “Nope, why?”

“Cause y/n thinks he is, and she’s like super worried. Been tryna tell her it’s probably nothing, but you know how she is—”

“Hey!”

Renjun pauses for a couple seconds, brows furrowed as he tries his hardest to think. And then it dawns on him. “Wait, the other day I did see him leave his room with your MacBook.”

Haechan furrows his eyebrows. “My MacBook?”

“Yeah, it had puppy stickers on the cover. I asked him why he had it, and he did a whole defensive rant talking about how he was simply, and I quote, ‘just trying to find that video of Jeno and Haechan from the beach’. I hope he never gets interrogated for something serious,” Renjun says coolly.

MacBook. Video. Haechan’s MacBook. Video. Oh god, this cannot be what you think it is. Yet as you gaze at your boyfriend, you can tell he’s thinking the exact same thing as you.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he groans. “When was this?”

“Like four days ago, why?” Renjun questions, utterly confused.

The time lines up, that’s when he started acting distant with you. He definitely saw something he wasn’t supposed to.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you whimper, tugging your boyfriend’s hair.

The ultimate stress reliever, head from your boyfriend. You’re not even exaggerating, the man eats pussy like his life depends on every lap. In this case particularly however, you’re ninety-nine percent sure he’s more so trying to shut you up by distracting you with something that’ll make you whimper in pleasure instead of distress, and you refuse to go down without a challenge. It is, needless to say, a challenge, especially with how the way that he makes you see stars clouds your mind, but you won’t succumb yet.

“Feel good?” Haechan parts for a split second to speak, then dips right back in unhesitatingly. He really doesn’t have to ask, but you know he only is because he wants to hear it from you, as though your moans aren’t telling enough.

“Yes, f-fuck,” you moan, unable to numb yourself to the pleasure. You wouldn’t even if you could, though it would be useful for you to convey your thoughts right now—the ones that keep slipping away the more he works between your thighs, yet you’re clutching onto them desperately. “But babe, gosh, what about Jisung—”

Haechan draws back, resulting in a whine to sound from you. “Baby, tell me you’re not talking about another man while I’m eating you out.”

“I can’t stop thinking about it,” you bemoan, “I mean, I could, but I don’t want to. I’m worried about him, you know, like what if he’s traumatized. And what if he never looks at me the same again, he’s never gonna—oh.”

Haechan cuts you off mid-rant by stuffing his fingers inside you, catching you a little off-guard since you hadn’t suspected his actions, or even take notice of how he moved from between your thighs, positioning himself behind you with your back to his chest. “Do you want him to forget?”

His question seems to catch you off-guard a little more. “Huh?”

“Do you want Jisung to forget what he saw?” He repeats. “He saw you naked, baby. He saw you sucking me off, maybe even you getting fucked into this mattress if he’s that nosy. Do you want him to forget that he saw you like that, or do you want him to remember? To get curious?”

If you’re bring frank, the thought has crossed your mind at one point. You didn’t want to admit it to yourself (because you already have a man, how dare you want another?) but a part of you craves Jisung. You think it has for a while, you’re just now coming to terms with it. That doesn’t mean that you don’t want Haechan—you do want him, you love him and you’ll never stop—though you can’t help but want Jisung a little, too.

“I… I don’t know,” you lie, afraid of choosing the wrong answer. How would Haechan take that you want to fuck another guy? And how could you unabashedly admit that to him?

“Stop being complicated, I know that you know,” he pulls away his fingers, as though to punish you for lying, “do you wanna fuck him or not, y/n?”

As expected, you whine once more for the umpteenth time this hour. You’re thinking about answering honestly if it means that he’ll stop denying you pleasure. “Why are you asking me this when you said you’d kill him if he kept lying on my lap!”

“I know what I said, and it has nothing to do with my question. Now if you wanna cum, tell me the truth,” your boyfriend whispers, silk voice giving you goosebumps, “if it helps, I know Jisung and I’m like a hundred-percent sure that he is absolutely anything but traumatized. The horny bastard probably got off to it if anything, and now he’s all embarrassed and worried about you finding out. That’s why he’s avoiding you.”

You furrow your eyebrows, “And not you?”

“I’m assuming it’s because you’re the one he wants to fuck,” Haechan shrugs, “since he’s usually all over you instead of me.”

Well fuck. You hate this. You hate it because if Jisung wants you just as bad as you want him, then something could really happen, and worst of all, Haechan’s okay with that. That’s probably all the reasons you need to love this, but you can’t shake the feeling that something about this is wrong, even if you want it. It’s the same feeling that’s prevented you from accepting how you feel, all of the shame and the guilt inside you. But fuck, are you willing to ignore it. Your moral compass is malfunctioning. You’re malfunctioning, probably. There’s no reason you’re turned on thinking about all the ways you could have both of them, and you can’t say the fantasies aren’t fun. You can’t say that you don’t want to take a chance at living them out. And even though technically, you can, that would most definitely be lying. You’re a woman of truth, and nothing but.

So you decide to tell him the truth.

“I… want him to remember,” you admit, your voice low but audible.

“Course you do,” Haechan crams a pair of his fingers back inside you, prompting a fairly loud gasp from between your lips in response, “you’re such a cock-hungry fucking slut, you’ll never be satisfied with just one, hm?”

“N-no, not a—fuck—slut,” even though you deny it, Haechan feels the way you clench around his fingers when he degrades you. He even felt the way you clenched around them when he described all the ways Jisung’s potentially seen you, and from that moment forward, he knew exactly what you wanted.

“Yes, you are, baby,” he disagrees, observing how you moan for him so needily. He thinks about how Jisung felt the moment he saw you like this in that video, so gone and pathetic. Then he remembers Jisung’s horniness is through the roof, and he was definitely turned on. “Such a slut. My greedy slut. Tell me you’re my slut.”

“I-I’m your slut, Hyuck,” you whisper, too caught up in bliss to speak an octave louder without forcing yourself.

Haechan slaps your thigh, and you moan consequently, “Louder.”

“I’m your slut!” you cry, louder than intended, yet your volume pleases him.

Satisfied, he smirks a little to himself. “Good girl. You wanna cum?”

“God, yes,” you’re nodding your head almost violently, “please?”

“Go ahead, baby. Let go for me.”

You’re in a daze-like state, feeling almost lightheaded as you clutch your boyfriend’s thighs for leverage. It’s either extremely early in the morning or extremely late at night and you’re at the dorms again, so you dig your teeth into your lips to try and conceal your moans as you cum, almost too out of it to even do that. Though as many times as you’ve been in this situation, biting back moans until your lips are bleeding, you like to think that you’ve perfected the silent skill.

The moment you come down from your high you lie your head against your boyfriend’s chest, and he whispers into your ear all these sweet praises, telling you how good you are for him. Everything is typical, with him holding you tight and close.

“Now, I want you to hear something,” Haechan says, throwing you off a little.

“Hear what?” You ask, nothing but confused.

“Shh,” he whispers, “listen carefully.”

Allowing your curiosity to get the best of you, your lips press together in absolute silence, and you’re even holding in your breath so that it won’t distract you too much. It takes a couple of seconds, but your ears begin to pick up on the faint sounds of groans coming from the wall that separates Haechan and Jisung’s rooms, which could only mean one thing.

He’s jerking off… to you?

Fuck, why does that turn you on? You wish that you were right there next to him, so that you could perfectly hear how deep his voice is when he grunts like that. Better yet, you wish that you were touching him yourself, so that you could see how his face looks when you make him cum. It isn’t fair. He’s seen you naked, while you’re left with not much more than your imagination.

“Haechan…” you whisper speechlessly.

“I know,” he whispers back. “He’s been doing this every night we fuck when you stay over. I know you’re always too fucked out to hear anything, though.”

Oh, god. The walls are severely thin here, you can only imagine all the noises he’s heard you make over the nights. All the times he’s came, and no wonder you hear him insisting on washing his own laundry. The guys already tease him, saying that it’s because he’s always jacking off, but you’re the sole one that never would’ve thought he was truly this horny—that he’d jack off to you.

“What do we do?” You ask, although your head isn’t exactly blank. It’s just that everything you’re thinking, you’re not sure your boyfriend would approve of.

“Confront him,” Haechan replies, like the answers obvious, and the moment you stare back at him in shock and appalled, he adds, “I’m not mad at you or against it, baby. If you wanna fuck him, then you can once on the condition that I have to be there. I’m sure that horny fuck wouldn’t care.”

You don’t believe your ears. “Really?”

“Yes,” he begins to yawn a little, “but tomorrow. For now let’s go to bed.”

The two of you lie down, and you go to sleep imagining all the possibilities of what could happen within the next twenty-four hours, snuggled up in your boyfriend’s arms.

The following day, you and Haechan plan out the confrontation quietly in his bedroom. Since the walls are thinner than you thought, most of your conversation is in hushed whispers and low tone.

Just thinking about it has you excited. If everything goes according to plan—essentially meaning if Jisung doesn’t shy off despite your boyfriend’s insistence on watching instead of participating—then you’ll have him wrapped around your finger, right where you want him. You just hope that he won’t freak out too much.

“You got it?” Haechan whispers once he finishes explaining the rundown of the plan.

It’s nothing like some elaborate scheme, or intricately-detailed ploy. There isn’t much to it but patience and faith in the slight steps to play out in your favor, although the ratio of your amount of the two things is dramatic.

“Yeah,” you reply a little too fast, a little too enthusiastically, “can’t wait.”

“Aw, that’s too bad,” he taunts, “you don’t have a choice. But I’ll get the rest of the guys out of here by two, and then you’ll have Virgin Mary all to yourself. He just won’t have you to himself.”

You make a confused face, “What’s with the emphasis on him being a horny virgin?”

“You don’t get why I want to watch, do you?” Haechan asks, and you shake your head. You’ve been tempted to ask, but you’ve already come to terms with the fact that your boyfriend sometimes works in mysterious ways far beyond your comprehension level. “Baby, I doubt Jisung’s gonna know what to do with you. He’s gonna need a couple of pointers plus a push in the right direction. And who knows your body and how to fuck you better than to me?”

No one. Not a single soul. You find it a little embarrassing, but not even you. Haechan didn’t take your virginity, but the first time sure felt like he had—he had reached places you didn’t know were there, let alone reachable, and he made sex seem like something totally new. No one has quite pleased you the way your boyfriend has.

“So you’re going to… teach him?” Is the conclusion you make when you put the pieces together, and Haechan nods.

“If that’s what you want to call it.”

That is what you want to call it.

Time passes rather slowly. Every hour feels twice as long, and you feel as though you’re going to die any moment now. The second you hear the sound of the guys piling outside the dorm, there’s a burst of excitement in you, making your stomach turn and swarm with butterflies. (It’s killed briefly when Jaemin rushes back inside, claiming he forgot his phone, but once they drive away you’re filled with bliss once more.)

Jisung steps outside his room, “Where’s everyone going?”

“Away,” Haechan replies vaguely as you two walk back down the hall.

“So it’s just us three?”

“Yep,” you and your boyfriend answer in unison.

Jisung looks absolutely petrified, though not wanting to appear suspicious (he’s kind of late, but it’s the effort that counts) his face soothes soon after. “Cool.” To him, it is anything but cool.

“Cool,” you repeat, “so you wanna watch a movie with us in Haechan’s room?”

“I don’t think I should—”

“Please?” Your eyes are begging him, pleading at him, and for safe measure, you add, “I miss you Sungie, it feels like it’s been forever.”

Truthfully, it hasn’t been anywhere near that long. Though Jisung knows that he’s been extremely distant with you—probably why you feel kicked away—and he feels terrible. Plus, it’s impossible to say no to you, especially when you give him that look, gazing at him like a sad puppy.

He gives in, “Okay.”

“Yay!” You clap your hands together. You clutch Jisung’s fist and begin to drag him down the hallway, “Babe go make popcorn!”

Some moments later, everyone’s settled down. The three of you sitting on Haechan’s bed, with you squeezed in the middle like the cream of an oreo. You rest your head on Jisung’s shoulder and he tenses a little at first, though eventually relaxs.

Everything’s going great and according to plan. Jisung looks calm, laughing the movie and being as naturally clingy as he usually is during movie nights. You and Haechan glance at one another occasionally, silently deciding on the perfect moment to strike and telepathically agreeing that that moment is now.

Haechan pauses Netflix, making Jisung whine in complaint. “Why’d you do that? It was getting suspenseful.”

“You’re getting a little comfortable, don’t you think?” Haechan tilts his head.

It takes Jisung a couple of seconds to realize what Haechan’s talking about, but once he does, he quickly separates his hands away from you and scoots over to put a little distance between the two of you.

His face burns like fire. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? You’re a repeat offender, Jisung, sorry isn’t gonna cut it this time,” and before Jisung can apologize again, Haechan adds, “plus, I have another question for you.”

“What is it?” Jisung swallows sharply.

“When you watched that video, did you cum?” It’s you that asks the question this time, much to Jisung’s surprise. He’s chewing hard on his lip, nervousness spelt out across his face.

Still, he plays dumb, holding onto the slim piece of remaining hope he has to consider that maybe this is a joke, that you aren’t serious and don’t actually know he’s seen the video. “W-what video?” Even his own voice betrays him, and Jisung knows from this moment that he’s screwed. Terribly fucking screwed.

“I’m sure you know it very well. The one where she’s giving me head and I’m fucking her into this mattress, remember?” Haechan inquires, a smirk blooming onto his lips as he watches Jisung break.

He’s done, he thinks. You probably hate him. You’re probably disgusted with him, repulsed by him, and appalled that his prying eyes saw you in such a sexual context. He doesn’t look at you, afraid of what he might see, holding his head down low in shame as he’s unable to lie to you anymore. “Sorry. I’m so sorry,” he stammers, “I didn’t, I wasn’t trying—I didn’t mean to, I just… I was just trying to find—”

“That video of me and Jeno from the beach, yes, Renjun told us. But you found something you liked better and just couldn’t help yourself, could you?” Something about humiliating Jisung, toying with him a little simply to see how he reacts is fun to Haechan. All of his reactions, needless to say, are amusing; shuffling in his spot; fidgeting with his hands; swallowing and gulping hard; biting his bottom lip; and his eyes widening in panic as his cheeks sting with embarrassment.

You add, “We heard you last night, too. Do you always listen in on us like that?”

Jisung whimpers, “Y/n…”

“Answer my question, Sungie,” you lean into his ear, “do you always listen in on us like that?”

Whenever he’s awake, he definitely does. Jisung isn’t oblivious to the fact that if he can overhear Haechan’s room, then you guys can certainly overhear him in his room, but he thought he was quiet enough to get away with it. You have to give him credit, if Haechan would’ve never pointed it out you probably would have never noticed.

“Y-yes,” he admits in a low murmur, head still hanging low, “I’m sorry, you just sound so pretty when you… make noises, and it wakes me up. But sometimes I stay up and wait because I know you’ll start soon. Please don’t be mad.”

“Mad? You don’t get it, do you?” You move to straddle his lap, gripping his chin to force eye contact with him. He appears taken aback by your actions, but doesn’t fight them. “If I was mad, we wouldn’t be doing this, Jisung. I’m here because I want you, and you want me, right?”

Jisung’s Adam’s apple bobs as silence prevails over his voice.

“Answer her,” Haechan commands. “Do you want her?”

Jisung chokes out, “Yes.”

Shaking your head in dissatisfaction, you instruct, “Say it. Tell me what you want. Do I have to walk you through it like an ameteur?”

Jisung instantly shakes his head. He’s not a baby, he can do this. “You,” he finds the courage to say, fighting the urge to cower, “I want you.”

“Good boy,” you purr, “but you didn’t answer my first question, so I have some more for you.”

Trying his hardest to conceal how evidently the pet name fazes him while simultaneously bracing himself for the severity of your question, he asks coolly, “What are they?”

You lean back into his ear, but with you in his lap and his hands holding your waist this time, it feels so much different. “Do you moan for me when you cum?” Your voice tickles his neck, but he thinks he that likes it, “do you say my name?”

Fuck. Jisung could get hard at the memory, recalling all the times he’s came to you, moaning your name quietly to himself as he imagines you’re around his cock—your hands, your pussy, your mouth, anything. He’ll take anything as long as it’s from you. The only time he doesn’t moan your name is when he has to be silent, like when he was watching that video of you, in spite of how badly he wanted to call out for you right then and pray that you would somehow answer.

“Yes, fuck,” slowly, all of his shame and dignity is dissipating, “I imagine it’s you,” he mutters.

That gets you going as well. Jisung fucking his hand to the thought of you, pretending that it’s you, and moaning your name as he cums is a sight you’d pay to see. You’re pretty sure he’d send you a video for free though.

Deciding this needs to escalate quicker than it is, Haechan instructs, “Touch her, Jisung.”

“T-touch her?” Jisung repeats back, incredulous that this is the same Haechan who shoots him knife sharp glares whenever he so much as accidentally brushes his fingers against yours during movie nights. “Are you sure?”

“You think I’d ask you to touch my girlfriend if I wasn’t sure?” Haechan deadpans. “Honestly, you’re asking the wrong person.”

So Jisung shifts his focus back to you, and you eye him with these lustful eyes that tell him, scream at him that you want him. It’s so much like a fantasy that he’s half-tempted to pinch himself to test if he’s dreaming or if this is just a wet dream come true. “Can I touch you?” Jisung asks. His eyes are a little wide still, but he sounds so much more confident.

“Please,” you answer, and that’s all it takes for his hands to roam your body.

Jisung’s fingers move gracefully yet like the wild, untamable waver of a flame. As his fingers pull your top above your head, you can’t help but gaze at his fingers, long and bony. Fuck, you can only imagine the places they could reach, and you’re not too proud to say you’ve thought about it on more than one occasion. Because of your willingness to push it away though, the thought hasn’t ever bloomed into a full-on fantasy. Not until now, of course. This time however, you’re finding it perfectly acceptable to wonder.

He struggles to unclasp your bra though, earning a chorus of laughs from you and your boyfriend. But upon seeing Jisung’s flushed face, you try and teach him, with Haechan helping do a perfect demonstration.

Once Jisung thinks he has the hang of it, he says, “Put it back on.”

You furrow your eyebrows. “For what?”

“I want to see if I can do it,” he replies, making you and your boyfriend both scoff. But you indeed put the bra back on, and he successfully takes it off with a dramatic decrease in effort.

You nod in approval, “Good job.”

Jisung realizes he loves being praised by you. And in that same moment, he realizes that there isn’t much he won’t do to satisfy you so that he can hear you praise him some more.

He sucks your nipple into his mouth, fingers fiddling with your other one so that it wouldn’t be neglected. When Haechan talked down on Jisung for being a virgin, it made you think that you would have to teach him everything. But it seems like he’s done his research, because he knows a thing or two. That or he’s just naturally good.

“Shit,” you gasp, “Feels so good, Sungie.”

The look on your face tells him everything. You’re genuinely enjoying this, lips parted as you continue to moan little by little. If Jisung wasn’t hard before, he definitely is now. Something about your moans is severely intoxicating, and being able to hear them, seeing how you look when you moan in person is just on another level that the computer screen doesn’t compare to. It simply doesn’t do you justice.

You’re quickly becoming very needy and impatient. Jisung can feel Haechan’s eyes biting into his skin, silently waiting for the right moment to open his mouth, so Jisung decides not to make any advances on his own in dread of setting your boyfriend off. You on the other hand need him to pick up the pace, so you make the advance for him, picking up him free hand by the wrist and sticking it down your shorts. “Touch me,” you beg him with your mouth and eyes, “Please.”

He looks at Haechan, but surprisingly he’s nodding, urging him on. So Jisung complies, fighting the pitter-patter of his heart against his chest as he rubs you through your panties. You’re wet, he knows that much. Really fucking wet. It turns him on to think that he’s the root of it all, the reason why you’re soaking your underwear, especially because he’s wanted to touch you there for so long. He wonders how long it’ll be before he gets to touch you directly, without some flimsy fabric in the way of all the good stuff.

Lust blinding the two of you results in things to escalate somewhat quickly. It started with Jisung rubbing you through your panties, then you begging him for skin on skin contact, and then a complete change of positions after he hungrily takes off your shorts, finger fucking you as you eventually asked with your back flat against the mattress.

“Pay attention to the angle,” Haechan advises. “You can’t just shove your fingers in her and hope for the best. And don’t let having longer fingers get to your head, it’s pointless if you don’t know how to use them. Same with your dick.”

“I know that,” Jisung hisses. “Just because I’m new to this doesn’t mean I’m dumb.”

“Just being careful, Ji. You’d be surprised how many people don’t know that. If you’re gonna fuck my girlfriend, I gotta at least make sure you’re doing it right,” you’re almost completely tuned out of the conversation, only picking up on bits of pieces as you’re too concentrated on the way Jisung’s fingers plunge in and out of you, coated in your arousal. “And pay attention to her body, it’ll tell you everything you need to know. See what makes her moan, squirm, beg—all that good stuff—and what doesn’t.”

If Haechan has you muffling screams when you fuck every other night, then Jisung’s sure he knows what he’s talking about, so he silently takes his advice. You seem to be enjoying this, and he wonders how he can take it further, how he can find out where you’re sensitive.

He decides to explore, not exactly letting his fingers run wild but experimenting here and there until he finds the spot. And when you cry out a little suddenly, he’s sure he’s found it. “Fuck,” you cry out in bliss, “Right there, Jisung, god.”

His fingers continue to hit you there, and he tries to burn the spot into his memory. It’s uncertain if he’ll ever get this opportunity again—and that’s when he realizes he should make sure this experience is as pleasurable as possible, just in case this is a once in a lifetime thing—but he wants to remember for safe measure.

For some reason, Jisung has the urge to look at Haechan again, so he does, and sees the man mouthing the words, Pull out.

Jisung is utterly confused. He mouths back, Why?

Just do it, Haechan says.

It takes Jisung a little. He’s reluctant. After all, one look at your face tells him that you’re all blissed out, and he thinks you’re pretty close. So why would he pull his fingers away? The point is to please you, isn’t it? Though not wanting to mess up, he hesitantly does as told.

“Jisung,” you whine when you’re suddenly empty, and Jisung hates it. He wants you to say his name in pleasure, in satisfaction, not like this.

“Haechan told me to!” He defends himself quickly.

“I did,” Haechan unabashedly confirms. “Don’t let her cum yet, making her wait is part of the fun and makes her want you more. Just get her wet enough so that you can fuck her good.”

Figuring that you’re wet enough, he turns to look at you. “Can I… can I fuck you?”

“Yes,” you’re literally about to beg, you’ve been waiting for this moment for what feels like an eternity, “please do, I can’t wait anymore. Need you so bad, Sungie.”

Jisung feels like he’s out of his mind. A part of him still refuses to believe that this is real, that this is actually happening. That instead of being mad at him for invading your privacy, you’re here begging for him to fuck you. He’s not sure what’s more surprising, the fact that you want to fuck him or the fact that Haechan is allowing this to happen, even telling him what to do to please you. You’re begging for him. You’re spreading your legs for him. You’re wet—all for him. It crosses his mind that maybe this isn’t a good idea, but with those three things considered, he can’t bring himself to care anymore. Haechan doesn’t care that he’s fucking his girlfriend, you don’t even care that he’s fucking you, so why should he?

Jisung drops his pants and lets his boxers hit the ground. There’s nothing holding him back anymore, not when he sees you gawking at him (unlike Haechan, he leans more to the lengthy side rather than girthy, though as long as he follows Haechan’s instructions you’re sure you’ll both be fine). It gives him a little ego boost.

“Condom?” He asks.

“You don’t have to use one,” you say, nearly making Jisung’s jaw drop, “just hurry up, please.”

What comes over him as he slides into you is beyond him, but the process is effortless and he just skates in. “Fuck,” he grunts, needing time for himself before he can even move. He’s barely moved an inch, but he can tell the real thing is a billion times better than his palm.

“Start slow,” Haechan says. “You’ve made her want it, but most importantly, you have to make her need it. Make her beg for you to pick up the pace, and then go faster. Not too fast, but not too slow, either.”

Jisung complies, drawing it out a little. With the way you feel around him it’s difficult to resist moving around freely, but then he remembers what he was thinking about making this as pleasure as possible for the two of you and decides it’s worth the wait. Something tells him to grip your waist so he does, his fingers dipping around your hips, and in return you let your hands fly to the empty space on his back.

You’re crying out in pleasure, need, yearning—all of the above. You probably should have expected Haechan to descend his teasing ways onto Jisung. He’s ever so slowly stretching you out, not pushing his whole size into you, but gently wedging it inside bit by bit at an agonizingly slow pace. It’s useful preparation, but once most of his length is sliding in and out of you so leisurely, your patience has ran significantly thin.

“Faster, Jisung. Please,” there’s tears pricking your eyes, and he hasn’t even really done anything yet, “want—no, I need you to fuck me so much.”

“How much?” He asks, catching everyone in the room, including himself, off-guard a little bit, but he doesn’t back down.

“It fucking hurts,” nothing but desperacy fills your tone when you whimper. Luckily enough you’re used to this tormenting treatment from your boyfriend, so you have a couple tricks up your sleeve. “Don’t you want it too, Sungie? You said it yourself that you think about this. Don’t you wanna make your dreams come true?”

Jisung grunts and caves in, allowing himself to move a little faster. He’s honestly tired of torturing you and himself.

“I’m almost impressed,” Haechan begins, nearly startling Jisung as his presence for once almost goes forgotten. It feels a little unnerving to Jisung that he’s been watching so closely, but he refuses to let that get in the way of fucking you. “Keep it up. Talk to her. Definitely not too much to point where’s it gets annoying, but not too little to the point where it’s awkward. Make observations, compliment her, ask her shit like you just did.”

Jisung simply nods in understanding, not bothering to drop some bitter reply. He’s too focused on you, on how you look, on how you feel, and he wonders if he’ll ever have the opportunity to see how you taste. He’s never ate anyone out before, but he thinks that your pussy is so pretty that there’s a first time for everything.

Meanwhile, you’re lost in the realm that is pleasure, savoring the way his dick inches in and out of you, filling you to the brim, slipping out, then pushing back inward. It’s hard to believe Jisung’s winging this—he has to have really been paying attention because he’s so fucking good at this, tip so far kissing all the right places. You like the way he holds your hips, so firm and secure like you’re precious and he’s afraid of shattering you (even though you wouldn’t mind if he did.)

From beside you your boyfriend is groaning, and that’s when you think to shift your gaze in his direction, realizing he’s finally stripped his lower body. His dick is in his palm, tall and erect, and you’re impressed that he’s gone this long without touching himself—or most surprisingly you. As much as Haechan likes to talk down on Jisung for being horny, he can’t blame him because he’s the exact same. Worse, even, especially for you.

“Touch her,” even in this state, Haechan still has pointers to offer, “Anywhere she’s sensitive for extra stimulation. Rub her clit—if you know where it is. Or what it is. Do you even know what that is, Jisung?”

“Yes, I know what it is, Haechan,” As if to prove his point, Jisung drops his hand down to your cunt. If you thought the way his fingers accidentally brushed against you was amazing, you were no where near prepared for the feeling of them toying with your clit. “Right here.”

“Oh, g-god, Jisung,” you stammer out, rocking your hips onto his hand. “More, please. I want more,” he’s quick to obey, applying pleasure to your clit while his fingers softly kiss your cunt in the same motion. “Just like that!”

Some moments pass, all actions consistent though Jisung isn’t sure how much longer he can keep this up. He’s having this fuzzy, trance-like feeling, where everything seems like nothing greater than his imagination. The only reason he knows he’s not dreaming is because of the way you feel around him. It’s like pinching himself, except this is pleasurable. Your bare walls are warm, tight, and wet as ever around him, and he knew from the moment he slid in you that he wouldn’t be able to put up much of a fight.

That video doesn’t compare to this. His fist doesn’t compare to this. He can’t describe it, not with one-hundred percent accuracy, because absolutely no other feeling in the world compares to this. You look so fucked out beneath him, bliss spelt out across your face, and he’s proud that he’s the reason why. He had always known that he could do this with a little help, that he was fully capable of satisfying you. He just never thought that he’d ever be given the chance.

“Shit, y/n. You’re so fucking beautiful,” he moans, the deepness of his voice driving you closer to the edge. You’ve always found it hot, but it’s more extreme with his dick inside you.

Close, I’m close,” you moan, feeling the tightening in your stomach, “are you gonna cum?”

“Shit, y-yeah. Gonna cum. Can I—”

Picking up on what he’s asking before he even has to chance to state it himself, you say, responding a little over-eagerly, “Yes, fuck, cum in me. Please don’t pull out.”

You’re seeing stars, you swear. Bright white twinkling ones that cloud your vision as you cum, digging your nails into Jisung’s back. It helps that he’s rubbing you in your most sensitive area, fucking you so perfectly, and that Haechan’s sweet moans are audible beside you. You aren’t sure who cums first between the three of you, but you do know his cum is leaking from your cunt after his hips stutter to a stop, and he can’t help but fill you with a load of white.

It takes you a long while to collect your breath. But afterwards your boyfriend swoops you into his arms, placing you in his care once the deed is done. “Last pointer,” he says, “always check up on the person you’re fucking. Good aftercare is extremely important after sex.”

“Are you okay?” Jisung asks, and you find it cute how his eyes look so filled with concern.

“Seriously never been better,” you manage to respond through heavy breaths. “Haechan, can you join us next time?”

Haechan looks repulsed by the idea. “Who said there was going to be a next time?” This saddens you considerably, and Jisung too, but he does a better job at concealing it. “You did good, Jisung. Hope you find your own person to use your new skills on. C’mon babe, let’s get you cleaned up.”

You follow your boyfriend into the bathroom, and Jisung sees himself out. At least he has new material to jack off to, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t feel you again. You’re just too good to give away, so he understands why Haechan is so determined to keep you to himself.

But fuck, you’re too sweet to let go of.

“Ever heard the phrase sex is a remedy?”

“No.”

“That’s because I just made it up,” Haechan grins, and you roll your eyes consequently.

It proves true in some circumstances, you’ll give him that. Prime example: Jisung. Ever since that day, things between you have cooled. He started sitting next to you during movie nights again, even going as far putting his head in your lap (much to Haechan’s annoyance), actually talks to you, and looks at you (maybe a little too much.)

Yet surprisingly, he doesn’t seem that bashful anymore. It isn’t like he’s ever been the type to shy away, though this is next-level. No more shy waves or meek hello’s. No more weak eye contact. No more hesitance in touching you, despite him potentially being able to piss your boyfriend off. He’s so relaxed, so calm and so certain of his actions, and you kind of like it. There’s a chance the sex got to his head a little, but perhaps it was a push in the right direction and plus, you find confidence very sexy.

But you push these thoughts away as fast as they come. Whatever you had with Jisung is done, it can’t happen again. You all had your fun, now it’s time to let it go.

You pout, “Why are you leaving me alone for so long? I’m gonna miss you.”

Haechan’s going out with some of the guys to handle what he titles manly affairs. If you didn’t know any better you’d say that probably translates to I’m going somewhere to play video games, but you saw Jeno in his gym shorts. They’re definitely about to go hit the gym.

“Relax, I’m going to be back in a couple of hours and you aren’t alone—Renjun and Jisung will still be here to keep you company. Speaking of which, Renjun said that if you keep treating this like a second home he’s gonna start making you split the rent with us,” your boyfriend snickers.

“I was joking!” Renjun shouts from the hall, coincidentally walking down at the same time you happen to be talking about him.

“I think Renjun should mind his own business,” you say, and he rolls his eyes prior to stepping inside the bathroom. “And why aren’t they going with the rest of you?”

“Won rock paper scissors,” Haechan mutters, “but back to what I was saying about sex being a remedy, I promise I’ll make you cum at least three times when I get back.”

“Why three?”

“Because I don’t think you can handle four,” your boyfriend kisses you on the lips for a second so short it feels unreal, and you’re torn between focusing on that or informing him that he sounds like that one Reese’s commercial, “but I gotta go. See you later, babe, love you!”

“I love you more!”

“No, I love you mo—wait. I see what you’re trying to do and it’s not going to work,” he catches on, earning a gloomy frown from you. At least you tried. “Now goodbye, I love you most!”

“No, I—” before you can even chuck out half your sentence, the door is rudely shut in your face.

You huff. He cheated.

Alas, you’re left alone. Flopping down onto the couch, you consider that Renjun’s probably right about you overstaying your welcome, though it isn’t like you’re here all day every day. Two days a week at most. You have your own lovely apartment free of men that fight over video games and superior pizza toppings. Speaking of men, you’re tempted to go annoy Renjun in order to pass the time, but then Jisung creeps from the shadows of his room and you’re suddenly no longer interested in the former.

“Sungie!”

You don’t seem to notice the look on his face when you call him that, and even if you did, you wouldn’t have been able to make out what it meant. It’s fleeting, gone before it’s ever really there. Jisung covers it up with a smile, though can’t help but feel the nickname has an entirely different feeling. It used to be cute—innocent and sweet. But then he heard you begging for him and that changed his perception of the word forever.

He figures that he should probably let it go, though. It happened almost a week ago, the sex. It was fun, he knows that. All parties enjoyed it, he knows that too, but he also knows that Haechan would never let it happen again. Hell, he’s still surprised that he let it happen a first time.

“Y/n,” he smiles cheerily, joining you on the couch. You sit upright to make room for him. “you’re here while Haechan’s not?”

“Oh, yeah. All my clothes that I have here are dirty so I’m waiting for them to finish washing and drying,” you explain, Jisung listening and nodding understandingly, “I also don’t feel like driving.”

Jisung laughs, “I can’t drive so I’d be zero help with that, but I can help with your laundry. Do you need any assistance?”

“I’m good,” you shake your head. “Thanks, though.”

Jisung nods. “Cool.”

“Cool.”

You both know shit is anything but cool. And if you’re being completely honest, the silence that fills the room is a tad bit awkward. You’re sure you’re both thinking the same thing, though neither of you want to say it. However, there’s a major difference between a want and a need.

“We need to address the elephant in the room,” he initiates.

You sigh—in relief or not, Jisung can’t tell. “So I’m not the only one who realized.”

So, maybe your analogy was slightly wrong. Maybe sex wasn’t a perfect remedy for your Jisung situation. Or maybe Haechan’s made-up saying needs some clarification: sex is a temporary remedy, that eventually subsides into a plethora of other problems.

False advertisement.

“Yeah,” Jisung chews at his lip, “it’s been gnawing at me for a while. I mean, I get that it was supposed to be a one-time thing, but I can’t be the only one that’s having trouble forgetting.”

He isn’t, much to your misfortune, and it’s been gnawing at you. It’s even worse since Haechan hasn’t acknowledged that day since it happened, and you don’t have it in you to bring it up this time. You know he’s down to try lots of things, though at some point there’s a line you know better than to cross.

Yet the lingering memory is still tattooed onto your brain, and you can’t simply forget how wonderful it felt for Jisung to touch you; how good and deep he felt inside you; how perfectly his fingers felt on your clit; how blissful you felt when you came in his embrace. It doesn’t help that Jisung is impossibly attractive, and you can’t help but want to do things to him, or let him do things to you—you couldn’t care less.

“No, me too,” this time it’s you struggling to hold eye contact, opting to look down, “but Haechan already has, and is it really worth going behind his back?”

Jisung pokes his cheek. “I know. We don’t have to act on it, I just wanted to get it off my chest.”

“Okay.” You look up at him again. He’s still looking at you, unfaltering. “Wanna watch a movie with me?”

He nods a little. “Yeah. Sure.”

Fetching the remote, you open Netflix under Chenle’s account (poor him. The cons of sucking at GamePigeon 8ball.) and select a movie. It’s nothing spectacular, but holds your attention fairly well for a while. Nothing new seemingly happens with Jisung—he’s not on your lap, though still touchy, replacing his head with his hand as he lies his head on your shoulder. It shouldn’t bother you but it does, goosebumps breaking out on your skin. As if things couldn’t get any worse, your body refuses to listen to your brain, allowing itself to look at his hands as your brain shouts at it not to. With the sight of his fingers planted firmly into your brain, showering little seeds, it’s impossible to forget those six days ago. Even if you try and push the memory away, it’s helpless. Your body remembers, and doesn’t want to forget.

His slender fingers plunging inside you is all you can think about. You shut your eyes, yet the image burns into your eyelids. You open them again, yet it’s still there, fueled more by sight of his fingers close to you. It doesn’t help that they’re dangerously close to the inside of your thighs, the proximity making you sweat.

“Are we gonna pretend you don’t want me to finger you right now?”

His voice startles you. Jisung knows you think he hasn’t caught you, but he does—he did. It’s impossible to ignore the burn of your stare.

Fuck, when did he get so bold? “Jisung,” you whine, already sensing this is going to head in a direction you simultaneously do and don’t wish for it to.

“I want to do the right thing, I really do, but it isn’t easy knowing you want me, I want you, and we’re not doing anything about it,” he’s slowly rubbing circles onto your thigh, which is significantly bare since you’re in un-lengthy Dolphin shorts, “can’t we do it one more time? Fuck it out?”

“You and I both know that if we do it again this won’t be the last time,” you say.

He doesn’t look half-bothered by the idea. “That’s not something we have to worry about right now though, right?”

Fuck.

You know better than to give in like this, but it’s much too late the moment he sneaks you inside his room and lies you flat on his bed. You also know that you could stop at any time you wish, but as terrible as it sounds, you don’t want to stop. It’s basically been said that you’ll deal with the consequences later, letting impulsivity win.

“Can I taste you?” His voices sounds so hot when he says this. You can’t help but nod, allowing himself to have his way with you.

Jisung tugs down your shorts in fervor, your panties following suit and meeting one another in a growing pile on the floor. He’s seen it before, though he can’t help but gawk at the sight your cunt, dripping with arousal and he’s hardly even touched you. You’re so pretty to him that he can’t help but run a finger through your folds, spurred on further when you gasp aloud.

“Never done this before,” he says, yet he sounds ready as ever, “so tell me what to do.”

Impatiently, you nod. “Just go with the flow and I’ll help you from there.”

Your eager motion and the way you buck your hips up is more than enough to signal to Jisung that you’re ready. He takes it as you giving him the green light to begin, tongue experimentally prodding against your folds. It’s like all his hesitance dissipates the moment he gets a hold of you, as though the mere taste of you has put a spell on him that he can’t wake up from. He isn’t sure what comes over him in this moment, though he knows that he wants to savor it—the taste, the feeling, the craving. A single taste of you is enough to fill him with greed and then he’s eating you out like he just can’t get enough of you, as though there’s a burning fervor coursing through his veins that can’t be ceased.

“Sungie,” you cry. It’s been a couple of days since you’ve been given head and you’d consider that a while, so the relief is extra phenomenal. You’re sure that even if it had been yesterday, you’d be just as weak to his touch.

Then, so torturously, he pulls away. Before you can complain, Jisung shushes you. “I’m sorry, but you have to be quiet. Renjun’s here.”

Your eyes widen slightly. You had honestly completely forgotten about the other, though fortunately, this isn’t your first rodeo. If there’s anything sneaking around in the middle of the night with Haechan has taught you, it’s how to be quiet. The only reason Jisung’s overheard you is because his room happens to be directly next to the one that your boyfriend owns.

“I can be quiet,” you murmur.

Jisung scoffs. “Sure, you can.”

Affronted, you’re inclined to protest, until Jisung’s lips meet your pussy again and you’re silenced, digging your teeth into your bottom lip to muffle any potential sounds you might make. He picks up again, listening with super-sense to the quiet moans you utter as you’re unable to hold all of the volume in. It helps him apply his knowledge, playing close mind to what garners pleased reactions from you and your body.

His tongue skirts around, and he gets the wonderful idea to target your clit. The moment the muscle swirls it’s way there, you know that staying quiet is gonna be more difficult than you thought. Your lips nearly shudder shut and he pushes them open, his grip firm as he spreads you apart ever so gently.

“G-good, feels so good,” you moan softly, careful to lower your volume, “you’re doing so well.”

Jisung’s tongue is anything but gentle, however. Spurred on, he darts his tongue like it knows magical spells of it’s own, putting one on you that you fall deeper into with every stroke. The pressure feels amazing, and you can practically feel your heartbeat between your thighs. It’s honestly admirable how quick of a learner he is, paying full attention to how your body responds to his touch and solely acting on that. No previous experiences, just you and his intuition.

You really don’t have to tell him what to do. If there’s any question, you naturally give him the perfect answer. When you moan, when you whimper, when you beg. When your thighs quiver and your hips buck up in greed, it’s all a telltale signal of arousal, perfect sign of pleasure. In the moment, your fingers reach for his hair, threading through his locks and drawing him closer to you desperately. You want to feel this to the maximum, until you quite literally are numb.

It’s a miracle that you’re far from numb right now though, feeling every lap. He’s making you feel so good and it’s so hard to stay silent to the point where you’re contemplating stuffing your fist in your mouth. If Jisung was extra nosy, he would have seen another video of you and Haechan on his MacBook, a video of Haechan eating you out while everyone else was seemingly asleep. You wonder if Jisung was listening in that night, if he heard your muffled sounds after Haechan stuffed your mouth with your panties. Gosh, you aren’t sure why the thought of him hearing you in such lewd ways still arouses you. You just know that you want him to have you, you want to pry into his mind and carry out every fantasy he’s ever imagined as he got off to the sound of you.

If this was amazing, you don’t think that there’s an accurate word in the dictionary to describe the feeling of what Jisung does next. He presses his tongue inside you, his hand replacing his mouth as he simultaneously plays with your clit. Your whole body feels hot now, like piece by piece, you’re being consumed by fire.

Between watching you struggle to conceal your moans, and the way your face scrunched in pleasure as you do, he doesn’t know what’s hotter. He could do this forever if it meant seeing you break on his tongue like this. Hastily your resolve is cracking, and he knows he could have you wrapped around his finger. In fact, he thinks he probably already does. It may be wrong, though it’s only fair since you’ve had him wrapped around yours since the moment he met you.

Then he notices something—your moans are getting louder, your thighs are quaking more, and overall you look so much more blissed out. That could mean only one thing: you’re close. He knows he doesn’t have to, but he pulls away.

“Jisung!” if it wasn’t for the fact that Renjun was home, you think that you’d probably scream your lungs off. You’re also beginning to think that Haechan influencing Jisung was a bad decision. “You know that you don’t have to edge me, right? Like, even if I cum from foreplay, you can make me cum again.”

“I know,” he smiles, licking your juices off his mouth, “but I wanted to.”

Scratch that. It was a horrible decision. Now, Jisung’s equally as much of a sadistic piece of shit as Haechan.

Before you can whine, he says, “But I’ll make it up to you, if you let me,” he starts palming you with his hand, earning these little moans from you. Then he looks at you, with that pretty gleam in his eye that makes you want to fuck the shit out of him. “Will you let me?”

Ultimately, you let him. It didn’t take much for you to cave in—he had already given you head, aroused you yet refused to let you cum, so now you’re desperate for an orgasm. Plus, this has already gone too far. It might’ve not done any wrong to stop things from going any further, yet it isn’t like it would do any good, either. You’re in too deep, once you’ve started you can’t stop.

Jisung undresses you, showing you that he remembers how to unclasp a bra, and then he undresses himself. The sight of your naked body isn’t foreign to him anymore, yet he’ll still continue to marvel as though it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. Fuck that—it is the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

“I wanna ride you,” you say, snapping him out of his daze.

He blinks dumbly. “Huh?”

Gently, you push him onto his back. “I wanna ride you,” his eyes are on you, watching you with a lustful shadow dimming his eyes. “Are you gonna let me?”

“You can do whatever you want with me,” he tells you, gaze never once leaving yours.

Fuck, he’s so damn hot.

You straddle him, and once your knees are on either side of him you sink onto his dick, a sound of relief being drawn from both of you. Instantly you feel so full, yet that doesn’t stop the need built up inside you from yelling for a release. You allow yourself to adjust all over again before you start really moving, grinding onto him.

The stretch almost makes it feel like you’ve never been here before but you take it, fingers clutching his shoulders for leverage as his arms anchor around your waist, keeping you in close proximity. You’ve allowed him to go in bare again so the feeling is as raw as it was the first time around, yet Jisung still doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to this. How your walls tighten around his dick, how the wet squelch of your cunt sounds when he enters you. It’s fucking mesmerizing—you’re fucking mesmerizing, and he’s happy to have you all to himself even if it’s for a moment.

“How does it feel, Sungie?” You ask, already having your answer when you look at his face.

The same way Jisung can see through you, he’s like glass to you, a mirror even. He’s beautiful beneath you, face scrunched up in pleasure, and the tightening grip on your waist is a crystal clear sign that he’s enjoying this. It’s entertaining hearing him trying not to moan, his sounds muffled as deep little grunts that you’re sure he’s oblivious of how fucking sexy they are. In contrast you can’t stop thinking about what lives rent-free in your mind, wishing you could be louder so that you’d hear the full extent of his beautiful sounds.

“You’re so fuckin’ tight,” he growls, surprising yet pleasing you. If he keeps up the sexy noises, you’re going to cum hard.

You smile, “All for you.”

In this particular moment, it is all for him, and that’s enough for him. He likes that he’s able to get you wet, he likes that he turns you on, he likes that you want him, he likes that he has so much control and influence over your body. And you like when he treats you like you’re his.

Jisung also enjoys watching you fuck yourself on him, ever so desperately chasing your orgasm. He hates denying you it, but that unfortunately doesn’t make Haechan any less right. It is a part of the fun because it makes you needier, and there’s nothing he loves more than seeing you all delicate and fragile, so greedy for his touch. And in your determination to cum, you’re using his shoulders to hold yourself together as your pussy swallows his dick. He knows it’s going to be a sight when you actually do cum, to see you fall apart on top of him as you finally reach your climax.

His gaze lingering on your body, Jisung suddenly feels the urge to touch you. You’re so beautiful all over, it’s only right that he appreciates every aspect of your body equally. Slowly, he drags his hands up from your waist to your breast, fundling with your breast. His fingers graze over your nipples and when you gasp, he can’t contain his smile. You’re so sensitive there, it’s so fun to mess with you simply to see you react.

“Your body’s so beautiful,” he’s really just thinking aloud at this point, but you enjoy the compliment, especially as you notice the in-awe gleam in his eyes. He looks like he’s seen you pluck a star from the sky, or summon the moon with your palm.

That’s when he gets an idea. One he’s always daydreamed about, yet never thought to ask you until now, when he’s thinking of all the ways to show your body love. “Is it okay if I kiss you? Not on the lips, but your skin.”

He thinks it sounds weird to ask, but you’re delighted by the question. “Y-yeah,” you answer mid-moan, and you can feel his dick twitching inside you, “just don’t bite or suck or do anything that’ll leave a trail and make marks.”

He hadn’t even thought about marking you, though now that you mention it, he really wishes he had the chance. He’s ignored the faint ones that linger on your body from your boyfriend, fading blotches of color. Instead, he does what he can, delivering little kisses to your skin. It starts from the valley of your breast, and slowly yet steadily falls down.

Jisung notices your breath getting shallower when you kiss him. When he passes by your breast, he makes sure to flick at your nipples with his tongue, driving an unsuspecting mewl from you. His kisses leave a hot sensation all over your body, like some kind of Midas Touch where everything he touches feel like fire. It’s a kind of fire you don’t want to be put out, that you want to let it’s flames eat at you and burn you. That’s exactly what Jisung’s touch does, and it’s driving you crazy. You don’t know how long you can keep this up before you have to let go.

You’re fucking yourself onto him at a steady rhythm, biting your lip profusely as you rock yourself against him, finding the spot that drives you to insanity. You look so fucked out but Jisung’s not any better, struggling just as much as you are to keep your sounds in. He’s so vocal, and you’d appreciate it more if it weren’t for Renjun being only some yards away.

You think of the perfect way to shush him, leaning in to crash your lips against his. With your eyes shut, you miss the way his go wide, yet he lets your mouth guide him and sinks his hands back around your waist. After all, he did say that you could do whatever you wanted with him.

Once you’ve confirmed he’s not backing away, you shift your hands from his shoulders to his hair, carding your fingers through there and drawing him closer this way. A particular movement causes him to moan in your mouth, and by then you feel beyond ecstatic. You feel high off of the pleasure, senses heightened and everything around you seems to slow. It’s a beautiful moment, filled with heavy breath and low moans, and you wonder if he feels the same.

Jisung pulls away, panting, “I’m not going to last.”

You guess that gives you your answer, because you’re so in sync, your body’s mirroring one another.

“Me neither. Fill me up, Sungie. Please.”

You’re clenching around him repeatedly, and he’s sure that’s what triggers his orgasm. That’s when Jisung meets his breaking point, biting his lip as his cum shoots inside you, yet you’re still close enough to hear the deep sound of his perfect groans. He recalls thinking that having you like this one tike would be enough for him to move on from you, but he’s onto his second and it’s already been somewhat established that there’s plenty more where this comes from. You just feel too good, more than he could have ever imagined.

The way you draw his name when you cum, clutching onto him so tightly as you work your way through his orgasm before leaning against his shoulders, it’s enough to spur him on once more. He’s realizing that he could seriously do this forever—you’re that addicting.

“Are you okay?” He asks through heavy breathing, holding you to his chest.

“I’m good,” you sigh, satisfied. “Thighs are kinda sore, but I’m good. What about you?”

Jisung rubs your thighs gently, but replies honestly, “I want to go again.”

You’re honestly astonished. You already knew that this wouldn’t be the last time, however you also didn’t expect the third to be so soon. You’ve hardly relaxed from this round, and the ache in your thighs is screaming at you to slow it down.

“My thighs ache, Jisung,” you laugh.

He pushes you onto your back, moving his head between your legs again and kissing softly at your thighs. “I’ll take care of you,” he whispers between kisses. “If you let me,” he gazes up at you, meeting your eyes. “Will you let me?”

In that moment, you feel purely hypnotized by him. Something tells you that this is a bad idea and that it’s getting out of hand, but it’s been that way since the moment this begun. You know it sounds corny, but though it’s wrong, you can’t stop this from feeling so fucking right.

And in that same moment, you realize that you’ll also let him do whatever he wants with you.

Sneaking around with Jisung becomes routine.

It’s like you two just can’t get enough of each other, drawn to the other’s body as though there’s some magnetic force between you, as though he’s a moth and you’re his flame.

When everyone’s back is turned, you find time to one another. Sometimes when the guys go away. Sometimes when they’re all asleep. Sometimes you even invite him over to the solace of your home, with no roommates, no one like you who uses the WiFi and the Netflix without paying even a quarter of a bill. Him and you. No more, no less.

Times such as now. Times when he has you backed against your front door as soon as he steps inside your apartment, out of sheer desperation. It isn’t always like this, sometimes you take turns taking control. Sometimes you fight for it until the other submits. Sometimes you’re so desperate for each other that neither of you can even think to care about control, just submitting to the desire in your bodies.

“Missed you, too,” you take his eager actions as a non-verbal way of saying I missed you. You gasp when he doesn’t respond, just pressing his lips to your skin. He doesn’t suck or bite, God knows he wants to though he knows better, but shows love to your body as he slides your shirt off.

It’s been longer than it usually is since the last time you’ve seen him, so he has every right to behave like a touch-starved virgin again. “God, I really fucking missed you,” he grumbles in your ear, cupping your chest. You bet he does. The reason you haven’t met up until now is because you two haven’t had the opportunity. It’s either the guy’s have been around more often, you’re prioritizing Haechan, or one of you are too busy and burdened with work to find time.

Speaking of your boyfriend, you don’t think he’s entirely clueless.

It isn’t like either of you are stupid enough to downright stick a hand down the other’s pants, however you’re still too touchy. Your fingers soothe through Jisung’s hair as his head lies in your lap, or his hand rests near the danger-zone of your thigh.

Haechan hasn’t brought this up, though you still feel the sting of his stare and it burns mightily. As a solution, you’ve come to the agreement to keep the contact to a minimum as long as he’s around, and use your place more often so that you aren’t starving each other of touch completely. It’s a solid plan. Haechan visits your place occasionally though not nearly as much as you visit the dorms, so you figure you two should be safe.

“Do you?” Jisung nods, not missing a beat and staring you down with the most hungry eyes. “Then show me, Sungie. Prove it.”

That’s all it takes for him to lead you to the couch and fuck you until you can’t even think — however if you could, you’d think that you honestly can’t handle it anymore.

There’s been times where you’ve almost been caught. Most recently, during the middle of the night the last time you stayed the night at the dorms. You decided to meet Jisung in his room for a quickie, slithering out of your boyfriend’s grasp and tiptoeing down the halls, thanking god that Haechan’s a heavy sleeper.

The minute you hooked your hand on his doorknob, you were given the scare of your life by no other than Huang Renjun (you swear, he’s always in the hallway at the most inconvenient of times ever.)

“What are you doing?”

You jumped. High as a Kangaroo. Turning to see who had caught you, you nearly let out a relieved breath when you realized it wasn’t Haechan. Then you realized it was Renjun, and all the panic in you resurfaced like clockwork.

Luckily, your lying skills are nothing short of impeccable because you follow one simple rule: don’t lie more than you have to.

“Going into Jisung’s room,” you answer honestly.

Renjun quirked his eyebrow. “In the middle of the night? Isn’t he asleep?”

“Oh, you know how he is. Afraid of everything under the sun, and he texted me that he had a bad nightmare so I volunteered to be his human teddy bear until he falls asleep.”

“Typical,” Renjun snorted, but he looked more convinced than you thought he would. “Good night, then. And tell him I said to grow up.”

Putting forward your best, oscar-worthy laugh, you told him goodnight back as he slipped away to his room, and you finally entered Jisung’s, shutting the door behind you and trying desperately hard not to laugh as you saw his face.

He frowned, “Scared of everything under the sun? Human teddy bear? Seriously?”

“You should be grateful that my oscar-worthy performance kept us from being found out,” you replied as you walked to his bed. It wasn’t unrealistic, Jisung doesn’t have nightmares as much as he used to anymore, though he’s certainly a scaredy-cat. You have no idea how he found the balls to sneak around with you. “Actually, I think I deserve a reward.”

Jisung pulled your shorts down your ankles, “You think so?”

“I do,” you smiled.

“Then,” Jisung paused to kiss you, addicted to the feeling of your lips ever since you first pressed them against his. It was a craving he didn’t even know he had until you gave him a taste. “Let me reward you.”

“This isn’t gonna be a quickie, is it?”

“Bet me,” he said, a little smirk on his lips that he slightly tried to hide. “How fast you think I can make you cum.”

He’s insane. That’s the conclusion you’d drawn from every moment you’ve spent naked beside him. You can’t deny it though, you like it, even if it’s a little dangerous and very unwise.

You furrowed your brows, “Bet? Like, money? Or orgasms?”

An even better currency in mind, Jisung shook his head. “Rounds.”

You knew what that meant. Jisung wanted you to himself. He was never satisfied with only one round — even if it meant overstimulating himself, he was desperate to have you until neither of you could continue, sore and exhausted from the work.

“Fine,” you agreed. “Six minutes. If you can’t, you get one round. If you can, then gosh, you deserve as many rounds as you want.”

To be honest, you never pay much attention to how fast he makes you cum, too caught up in the moment to even consider the amount of time you’d spent in that way, skin on skin, body to body. So the only person you’re sure has made you cum in six minutes or less is Haechan, because you explicitly remember him setting a timer to prove himself to you.

In spite of all that, Jisung looked confident. He passed you his iPhone and shifted to your bottom half, pushing your thighs open. “I’m ready when you are.”

Nodding, you set the clock.

Long story short, Jisung had as much fun as he wanted with you that night.

You’ve also been setting precautions. If it’s too risky for you to see each other in person, then you settle for exchanging nudes and things alike.

The first time it happened, you hadn’t actually intended for it to. It was more of a joke, you were texting each other and you playfully suggested that Jisung should send you a video of his own as reparations for his snooping. When he didn’t respond for a while you had your suspensions, but you didn’t think he’d actually hit you back with a video of himself, stroking his dick and moaning your name with a tremble in his voice.

In that moment you were given an idea of what it was like when he got off to your moans in another room, how he sounded and not so much how he looked since the focus was never really on his face, but you’ve seen his blissed-out expressions enough to come up with it on your own. It turned you on, enough to make you send back a video of your own, and from that day on it became a bad habit of yours to exchange explicit images and videos whenever you were separated.

It’s so late at night yet so early in the morning when the text hits your phone, I need you.

He caught you at a good time. Feeling hot and bothered yourself, you were honestly about to fetch your vibrator from it’s hiding spot in your closet because you knew your boyfriend had fallen asleep and assumed that Jisung had as well, at least until he texted you.

How bad is it? You send back, instead choosing to lie back on your bed, resting on your stomach as you wait for the typing bubble to transform into some type of message.

This bad. The attachment makes you bite your lip after he sends it. Sometimes when Jisung sends nudes of himself he isn’t very nude, he likes to send dick prints to tease you because he knows you want the full image. Though this time, his pants and boxers are discarded, he has his hand curled around the base of his erect dick, and you can tell at once that he’s much too desperate to be in the position to tease you. In fact, he’s probably hoping you’ll be generous to him.

He’s needy as hell right now, you can feel it. And how cruel would it be of you to not help him?

You grab your vibrator and prop your phone on your pillow, positioning it so that it’d film you perfectly. It’s late, and you have work tomorrow so you don’t have that much time to sext with Jisung, so you instead decide to send him a video you know will last him for now. You press record, and wiggle yourself out of your panties exaggeratedly, knowing he’ll love the gesture. He always does. Then you spread your thighs apart, enough so that he’d easily be able to see how wet you are. For a while you tease yourself with your fingers, allowing little moans to fall from your lips before you desperately reach for your vibrator.

The feeling of it against you almost makes you forget that there’s a camera watching you, and that this is supposed to be for Jisung more than it is for you. You’re not worried, however. The thought of him has successfully infiltrated your mind, and you can’t help but moan his name louder than your ears can register. With your eyes firmly shut, you’re imagining it’s him between your thighs—his dick, his mouth, anything. In this moment you, don’t care. You can’t care.

“J-jisung,” you whimper when you’re close, not once, not twice, but several times in a chant-like manner. You can only imagine how much he’ll love that, and if he wasn’t hard already, it would’ve certainly did the trick.

It feels explosive when you cum—literally. That’s when you come to the realization that you’ve squirted, and you find it a nice touch to end the video with. You send the message Good night to Jisung, making sure to attach the video before preparing for bed.

The next day when you find some free time, Jisung calls you briefly and asks you to come over, informing you that the guy’s are away and won’t be back for some hours.

Of course you’d never miss the opportunity to see him, and you were there in record-time, wearing a cute skirt you know he likes. Time is blur when he opens the door for you, and you hardly remember what happened in the time between you walking inside and him sitting you atop the kitchen counter.

He slithers his hand up your skirt, making you sigh in pleasure when he rubs you through your panties.

“Missed this so much,” Jisung murmurs, acting as though he hasn’t seen you in days. You didn’t think it was possible, but somehow you’ve turned him from a virgin to a sex addict. He’s seriously a fiend for you, but you don’t mind it.

You snort. “You always miss me.”

“Yeah, well,” you can sense the disappointment in his voice, but you don’t know where it’s coming from, “I miss you more now because you kinda left me hanging last night.”

Is he talking about you not sexting him? There’s no way, you sent him a whole video. He isn’t entirely insatiable. “What do you mean? I sent you a video?”

“No, you didn’t,” when Jisung fills you stiffen in his grasp, he stops and steps back. The realization creeps up on him as quickly as it does you.

Your voice at a whisper, you quietly muse, “Then who did I send it to?”

“Me.”

You think you’re going to be sick. You don’t even have to turn your head, you can tell it’s Haechan from the sound of his voice. Still you do, your heart hammering against your chest as you look him the eyes. He’s standing by the door and you have no idea how long he’s been there, but you know it’s definitely been too long.

“Hyung,” Jisung looks equally horrified, “I thought you left.”

That’s right. Jisung did tell you everyone had left, and it surely seemed like they had. No cars outside, the apartment was quiet, and void of all life save for you and him. You had made a mistake, and fuck, so did he.

“I was asleep,” Haechan shrugs discardingly, too nonchalant to be relaxing. “Having fun here, aren’t we?”

You start, “Haechan, I—”

“Can explain? I don’t want to fucking hear it,” he’s upset, and it’s finally seeping through his calm demeanor. “When I saw that video I’m thinking I’m waking up to a sweet morning surprise from my girlfriend, ya’know, and then I hear you moaning my best friend’s fucking name,” his gaze pans to Jisung, who then practically cowers.

Fear has consumed half your body, though lust consumed the other half. You can’t help but bite your lip at the way your boyfriend looks when he’s mad, pushing your thighs together — and it doesn’t go unnoticed by him.

“You’re fucking turned on by this, aren’t now?” He’s doing that laugh, the one that’s more out of anger than genuine amusement. It doesn’t help you at all, because damn does he sound hot doing it. “You know what? Come on. You too, Jisung.”

Haechan hooks his arms around you and forces you down the hallway before you can even think to move. You know being thrown around by him shouldn’t turn you on and especially not right now, but you can’t help the way that the aggression combined with his angry attitude has you sopping.

Jisung trails behind, feeling as though he doesn’t have much of a choice. You can tell he’s scared shitless, but you on the other hand are somewhat thrilled to see where this’ll go.

You’re practically thrown onto the bed when Haechan takes you into his room, slamming your back onto his sheets without much care. “I’m going to play with you until I’m satisfied,” he announces, not leaving room for options. “And Jisung, you’re going to watch.”

Jisung’s Adam’s apple bobs. “Watch?”

“Yes, watch. You’ve been fucking my girlfriend right under my nose and think that I’m going to let you off easy?”

Neither of you are going to be let off easy, and that’s the scariest part about it.

He doesn’t say anything from then on, only dragging down your articles of clothing or pulling them above your head at paces nothing less than excruciatingly slow. You begin to feel bare and uncovered underneath him, as though nothing could escape him and as though he can see through you more than you could him in the moment. The inscrutable expression on his face as he strips you naked makes you feel like everything you’ve hid is being stolen from confines, open and on display for him. He can see so much of you, but you can’t tell what’s running through his mind as he touches you almost everywhere but where you need him to.

The little relief he’s permitting you as he hauls his fingers around your skin isn’t enough and you at least know that he’s aware of that, deliberately fighting shy of the space between your thighs. You try and squirm, to show any possible hint of you needing more, but Haechan moves his hands to hold your hips steady. “You’re only making this worse for yourself if you keep moving,” his grip tightens until you give up and lie still, realizing that cumming is probably going to cost you more than you initially thought. “I’m in control here. Not you, not him, me. If you want to cum, then you’ll have to play by my fucking rules.”

You lift your gaze to Jisung, finding him staring back at you. The look on his face appears as unsure as it had the second you were caught, but the bulge in his pants betrays any lack of will present in him. If he could, you know that he’d be running his hands all over your body too, and you realize that that’s probably what’s going on inside his head.

You look away. “I’m sorry.”

The way Haechan snorts, you can tell he doesn’t believe you. He knows you’re only sorry because you want relief, and know the more you disobey him, the longer you’ll wait for it. “If you’re truly sorry, you’ll take what I give you like a good girl.”

The thud of your heart against your chest is loud, yelling at you when you feel him finally spread your thighs apart. You wonder if he can hear it too, the hunger and desperation in you calling for him in one steady rhythm. He moves like he’s willing to satisfy your greed, although not all at once, taking his precious time with you as he presses delicate kisses and rubs patterns onto the insides of your thighs. You whimper, but the dark, shadow-y look in his eyes as he gazes up at you shuts you up instantly.

“C-can I touch her?” Jisung asks tentatively.

Haechan doesn’t look back, doesn’t even think about it as he replies, “Not yet. You can touch her when I say you can.”

He’s dipping his head onto you again, not to say he ever really left. You moan a little when he licks at you, fighting the urge to buck your hips onto his mouth in reluctance to anger him further. You don’t know what the consequence would be if you did, and you’re fine without knowing. Still, the pace he sets is agonizing and it takes everything in you not to let temptation prevail. You know you did a bad thing. You also know that bad behavior doesn’t get rewarded, but you can’t help but feel a little selfish, wishing he’d give you a little more instead of teasing you beyond imaginable.

Eventually, the little licks do become more, gradually developing from gentleness to Haechan lapping at you with the eager movements of his tongue weakening you as he becomes unable to resist his own temptations. As you grip his hair forget there’s even anyone else in the room with you, weak in a way you had never allowed yourself to become for Jisung. This type of fragility is what he hears at night and what he saw in the video, but what he’d never be capable of having. You’ve been desperate for him too, but Haechan’s broken you beyond desperation. He’s teased you until your cunt physically aches, then filled you with pleasure that gives you whiplash.

“Hyuck, Hyuck,” your knees feel weak, and you can’t even think. All you know is that this feels good, and you fucking need him.

“You wanna cum, angel?” He coos, only moving away from your cunt for a second before he’s latching onto you again.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you chant. “Please.”

Your stomach feels like a rollercoaster, your gut flipping, turning, twisting, spinning—and everything in between. You can feel your orgasm approaching and you know that Haechan can too, with your body quivering in his grasp, your sounds increasing in frequency and volume, and your clutch on his locks tightening without you being capable of noticing.

In short, your stomach feels like an insane rollercoaster, your gut flipping, turning, twisting, spinning—and everything in between. You can feel your orgasm approaching you quickly and you’re sure that Haechan can too, especially from how your body quivers in his grasp, your sounds increase in frequency and volume, and your grip on his locks tightens without you being capable of noticing. It’s almost as though your body is physically here, yet you’ve elevated off in heaven somewhere. But when he pulls away just before that invisible string in you can snap, you feel shoved back into torturous reality.

“No!” You whine.

“You really think you deserve to cum?” The way he looks at you feels so degrading that you can’t resist shaking a little underneath him as he hovers above you, “I’m going to edge you until you understand that this pussy is mine.”

“No, no, no,” you whimper, “please let me cum, Hyuck. I’ll be good, I promise.”

Haechan scoffs. “Don’t you think it’s a little too late for that? You weren’t worried about being good when you decided to be a slut for Jisung.”

The mention of Jisung gives you the rough reminder than he’s still in the room again, watching closely how pathetically you unravel before your boyfriend. You can tell that he wants to do something but he’s mentally debating it, and he shies up every time you shift your gaze over to him again. He’s more nervous now that he’s been directly mentioned, unsure of what to do and how to react in a scenario like this. He knows he shouldn’t touch you, but should he be ashamed if he were to touch himself? Should he feel guilty about the things he’s done with you when your boyfriend’s back was turned?

“I, I didn’t—”

“You didn’t what, babe?” He crooks his head. “Go ahead and tell me another lie.”

It’s almost embarrassing how easily Haechan makes you feel like such a pathetic mess. You can’t even find the words to say in response to that, and he’s simply amused by how quiet you’ve gone. It was never like you expected him to placate you after finding out about everything you did behind his back, but you didn’t think it would hurt to try, hoping he would show you some type of mercy and be even a little lenient. You know that he didn’t deserve for this to happen to him and that you don’t deserve even a sliver of his mercy, but you had hoped that maybe he would still find it in him to grace you with it anyway.

When Haechan moved his lips from between your thighs, soaring up your body and re-starting his teasing journey at your neck as he peppers the skin with gentle kisses that you know only temporarily betray his attitude, you had then accepted that nothing comes without a cost, and that this was your price to pay. He played fake soft with you, treating you like you had a fragile label warning printed across you in spite of being completely aware that you wanted more, that you needed more and would never be satisfied with what little he was giving you. That was what made it more fun for him though, because it seemed like no matter what amount of pleasure he was generous enough to give you, you would take it for granted and not value it enough.

Then Haechan’s movements get fiercer as he continues to follow this torturous pattern of gradually fulfilling your desires, kissing developing into biting and sucking at your flesh in ways that make you gasp out in response, and ways he knows will leave marks on your skin. He was satisfied that Jisung had at least successfully avoided that and you couldn’t imagine what side of him would unravel if he hadn’t. Haechan liked to joke and play around at times but he was never truly all that possessive over you unless you had truly set him off, and this was one of those instances where you had.

There isn’t a single sign of reluctance in him as he marks you up more and more little by little, sucking red spots into your neck and falling steadily down the rest of your body to cover every area he could. He knows that they aren’t tattoo permanent, but not extremely temporary either. In the moment you would feel him decorating your skin, but afterwards you would look in the mirror and see how he had left you covered practically head to toe in marks. If you were bold enough to try and sneak around with Jisung again, he would be reminded that you didn’t belong to him and you never would. You’re Haechan’s, and Haechan’s only.

Jisung speaks up again, asking in the faintest, meek voice, “Can I touch myself?”

For once it manages to make Haechan pause, and ultimately causes you to whimper by instinct when the rough contact between your skin and his mouth is broken, but the moment is thankfully brief when Haechan shrugs, “Go ahead.” Then he’s continuing again.

At the same time, Jisung manifests every sign of being eager to get his clothes off, desperate to feel some sort of relief that he’s been refused recently. He had planned on breaking that spell, on having you to himself today even if it was only for a while, and honestly couldn’t and wouldn’t have predicted that this would happen. After going without being inside of you for the past couple of days on top of you ghosting him last night (whether you intended to or not), he felt starved of everything he was craving.

Touching himself felt no where as good as being inside you would, and especially after he finally had received the experience to prove it, although it’s better than nothing and he’s accepted that Haechan is likely not going to let him anywhere near your body — not until he’s done playing whatever game he calls this. You would nickname it torment, and so would Jisung.

You’re back to square one soon enough, with Haechan reappearing between your thighs once more, still acting slowly and rather teasingly although not nearly as much as he had the first time around. As you feel his mouth on you, your sounds mix with the ones that Jisung audibly makes as he strokes himself to the sight, practically bouncing off of the walls. “Be quiet,” Haechan whispers momentarily, and you immediately frown. You instantly feel the urge to question why he suddenly has a problem with you making noise, but you figured it would be best to fight against them. If you thought about it, lacking self-control is what landed you in this particular situation in the first place.

In your attempt to hold back any sound, you bite the walls of your cheek. He has you right there on the edge again, at the point where it’s hardest for you to keep quiet, but you manage to comply with his rules. It’s relaxing your body that feels impossible, especially when he’s pushing the right buttons. Your thighs begin to tremble, and your senses feel so heightened that you could almost cry. You’re right there, so close, your orgasm practically in arm’s reach—yet then he torturously snatches it all away once more. This time you do cry, however for an entirely different reason than you anticipated. “Haechan, please let me cum. I’m sorry, I’ll do anything!” you’re past the point of caring that Jisung’s seeing you like this, all capability of feeling embarrassment and shame leaving you as you’re filled to the brim with nothing but denial and want. “Please.”

Swiping his thumb over your eyes, he coos mockingly, “Aw, did you wanna cum? Do you think you deserve it?”

You’re nodding your head impatiently, unable to stop the trail of tears that stream down your cheeks. “I’ve been—I’ve been good, Hyuck. I did everything you told me to do.”

Haechan seemed to debate the decision of his next move in his head, going back and forth with himself a couple of times before ultimately deciding he would he allow you a deal. “Here’s the deal: I’m gonna fuck you, and you better not make a sound unless I tell you to. If you don’t cum by the time that I do, then you won’t cum at all. Got it?”

Again, you nodded fervently, sealing your lips shut in fear of messing up your opportunity to cum before you ever really got the chance if you opened your mouth. Haechan stripped himself of his clothes in what felt like seconds, throwing them onto the floor to be concerned over another time. He had truthfully wanted to be inside you when he saw that video you’d accidentally sent him, just to prove to you that no one could ever make you feel as good as he could. He had a particular motive in not letting Jisung touch you, too. He was punishing not only you, but the both of you, and he wanted Jisung to see that no matter how much you crawled to him, you were Haechan’s. You belonged to him entirely, and he could please you like no other. It wouldn’t matter how good he was because Haechan was better, and with every second that passed, he proved it time and time again, relentlessly.

So when Haechan thrusts inside you, there’s no doubt that Jisung feels jealous. It’s his own fault for messing with someone who didn’t belong to him, but he’s attached to you in a way that he doesn’t think he could be with anybody else.

“Shit, babe,” he slides in easily, both from the fact that you’ve been dangerously aroused since the moment he grabbed you and the fact that he’s edged you twice already.

You had almost whimpered at the feeling of him gliding inside your cunt, but then you remembered the terms of your agreement and settled with digging your teeth into your bottom lip with a force slightly dangerous. In this moment, you’re content. All you had wanted was to be filled and Haechan does so greatly, shoving his girth inside you as though he had been waiting for this moment his whole life. With how much he had been edging you, you never really realized how much his own need was growing.

“Fucking slut,” Haechan growls, watching how eagerly you take him. You look like such a mess, cheeks stained with tears, skin covered in marks, and your body practically shaking in response to the pleasure. “Needed dick so bad you fuck my friend behind my back?”

When you don’t reply, his palm lands on your ass, causing you to barely hold in a moan. “That was a question, baby.”

“I—‘m sorry,” is all you can bring yourself to say. There’s no use in coming up with a better response, you already know there’s no words you could use that would placate him.

“I didn’t fucking ask if you were sorry though, did I?” he smacks your ass once more, and this time you’re unable to contain the loud yelp that tears from between your lips. “And I told you to shut the hell up. But I know you can’t think with nothing but that greedy fucking pussy.”

You’re then distracted by the ever so inviting sounds of Jisung’s moans the second they ripple through the air, instantly shifting your gaze towards him and observing how hot he looks as he gets himself off to this, to you, his hair in front of his face and his lips parted agape. He sounds as beautiful as he looks, eyes squeezing shut in a deepening moan as he strokes himself with his palm. If you were in your full mind, you would have realized that you’re only further proving your boyfriend’s point, however you just can’t help but still want the both of them—together.

Haechan slows his movements until he stops entirely, then grips your chin, slightly rough yet you display no sign of disliking it. In fact, it’s probably worse how much you enjoy him manhandling you. You’re so close to whimpering when he goes still, hardly remaining silent and although he doesn’t mention it, you know he could tell. “Look at me, not him. You’re fucking mine,” he enunciates the single syllable with one sharp, deep thrust. “This pussy is mine,” he repeats the motion again, rocking your body forward and nearly forcing a moan from you, “now tell me who you belong to.”

Weakly, you answer, “Y-you.”

It’s clear that Haechan isn’t moving again until you’ve complied, and he seems unsatisfied by your response. Your thoughts are confirmed when he instead smacks your thigh, resulting in tears to prick your eyes once more.

“Not satisfied. Try again.”

“You, Hyuck, f-fuck,” you sound weakened and broken, attempting to speak through your sobbing, “I’m yours, I belong to you! Only you. N-no one—no one but you.”

That seems to do the trick, because he finally re-starts thrusting into you habitually, temporarily making your vision go black when he strikes a particular, sweet spot. There’s no one word that perfectly captures how he feels inside you, and you wouldn’t even bother to try and think of one. Hell, you’re beyond the point of thinking. You would’ve been embarrassed by how dumb you’d gone at this point, unable to comprehend how loud you’re being and that you’re essentially breaking one of the terms of your deal. Haechan’s in too deep to stop now though, wanting to feel how you perfectly take every inch of him, and instead comes up with a better solution.

“Jisung, come—s-shit—come fuck her throat,” Haechan barely manages to grunt out, his own eyes closing firmly and his moans getting louder with every passing moment. “I know that’ll make a slut like her shut the fuck up.”

At first the command takes him by surprise, though then Jisung’s rushing over to fuck your throat without needing to be told twice. He’s a little unsure if you had even registered the words that left your boyfriend’s mouth, however he can’t find it within him to stop once he slips into your mouth. He can’t stop the moan that tumbles from between his own when he feels your mouth around him, neither, the warm sensation already feeling levels bettet than his palms. It’s then that he realizes you’d never sucked him off before, that it had always been him giving head and you on the receiving end—not that he minded. He loves giving you head and watching the way your body reacts to his touch. However he discovers that he also likes the way your mouth feels.

He’s dreamed about this, and the reality is so much better than the expectations. You’d seemed a little lost when you noticed him in your mouth, but you sucked anyways, assuming Haechan had finally allowed interaction between the both of you and being glad about it. You also feel bad that he had been abandoned on his own for so long, unable to do much but watch, and wanted to please him to the best of your ability. The look on his face is hard to concentrate on when your boyfriend’s simultaneously fucking into you relentlessly, but the glimpses of it that you do manage to catch tell you that you’re most likely doing a great and successful job.

“S-shit, you feel so good,” Jisung moans, practically feeling his whole body tingle.

You’re almost overwhelmed by the feeling of having two dicks in you, although it’s clear as day that he isn’t going to last extremely long, especially considering that he had already been getting himself off beforehand. You listen to his deep groans while simultaneously watching the way Haechan’s face twists and scrunches with pleasure, the three of your sounds—although yours muffled—mixing together as one.

“G-gonna cu—f-fuck,” Jisung grunts, unable to finish his sentence before he’s filling your mouth with his cum, his eyes firmly closed as he murmurs a set of curses. He pulls away when he’s finished, watching with awe as you swallow as much as you can, and admiring the way you look as whatever you couldn’t take in your mouth dripped down and decorated your chin.

There’s something about the way you look at him that honestly makes him feel like he could cum again right then, right there.

Deciding slapping your ass isn’t effective enough, Haechan slaps your cunt to grab your attention, not caring that you whimper from the unexpected impact and almost tempted to do it again because of how sweet you sound. “Focus on me,” he commands, and you comply. “You close?”

Forgetting about what had happened earlier, you simply nod in response, much to his dissatisfaction.

Haechan slapped your cunt again, “It’s like you never learn, baby. Use your words.”

“Y-yeah, I’m close,” it’s written all over your face, you know he’s only asking for a chance to torment you some more, “can I—can I cum?”

“S-shit, cum for me babe. You better do it before I do,” he says, reminding you that you wouldn’t be allowed to cum if you didn’t by the time that he had. He’s just as close as you were, moaning needily, his grip on your waist tightening almost bruisingly. His thrusts get deeper yet they aren’t as precise as they were initially.

Whatever happens in the next couple of moments you don’t process, save for your orgasm and the feeling of Haechan’s cum filling you to the brim, warm and thick. He stops moving eventually, slowing the way he rocks into your hips until he pauses completely. When he pulls out, he watches the way his cum drips from your cunt, unable to hide the proud smile developing on his face. He knows you like it too, recalling vividly all the times you’ve begged for him to cum in you.

He scoops you into his arms afterwards, kissing your neck gently again, making you giggle when he avoids your mouth for obvious reasons. “You okay? Too rough?”

You shake your head. “I’m good.” He’s never too rough on you.

Jisung clears his throat from beside you, making you both shift your gaze to him. “So, um,” he begins awkwardly, “what now?”

The smirk on Haechan’s face is sinister, and you know whatever he’s thinking in his head can mean zero good, but a part of you is excited for it anyways. “We’re not done here,” he says plainly, then adds, “since you wanted it so bad, do you think you can take two dicks for us, y/n?”

You have no idea, but you guess you were about to find out.

When you slowly nodded in confirmation, you swear you saw Jisung eyes twinkle a little in excitement. “Can we record it?”

Haechan shrugs. “Is that okay with you, babe?”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” you reply, thrilled by the idea. If this was the last time you’d ever be with the two of them at once, then you wanted to be able to remember it vividly, and there was no better way than recording.

Your boyfriend grabs his phone from the nightstand, grinning a little devilishly. “Are you ready?” When you nodded, he pressed record and immediately brought the camera to your face, still sticky with cum.

“Smile for the camera, baby.”

#nct dream smut #jisung smut #haechan smut #lee haechan smut #park jisung smut #nct smut #nct dream x reader #nct dream x you #nct dream scenarios #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct x reader #nct

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leighsartworks216 · 1 month ago

Text

Fallen Angel

Sylus x gn!Reader (more fem-coded)

I literally didn't do work yesterday when I told myself I would bc of this fic. I was so in it that I had to keep working on it or else. And I'm so glad I did cuz I love writing in the Raven universe I've created

Warnings: torture, blood, injury, gun violence, mind control, swearing, (wanting to) vomit, slight invasion of privacy, pet names, sleep deprivation, alcohol + drinking, possessive behavior, kissing, some religious imagery, selectively mute reader, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending

Word Count: 4,887

Main Masterlist

Love and Deepspace Masterlist

The Raven Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form (Fill this out to be tagged in future works!)

“Look at you. Sylus’s prized pup.”

Electricity tears through your body. It steals the air from your lungs. Your bloodied fingernails dig into the wood of the chair. Your legs shake against their will. You grit your teeth so hard they hurt. You taste copper.

When it stops, your body sags forward, chest heaving desperately for air through the aftershocks of pain. You refuse to scream for them. Refuse to let them hear your voice when it is reserved for one man only.

“Give it up already, pup.” The man supervising your torture grabs your chin in deceptively soft hands, contradicting the tight hold he has on your jaw. He brushes his thumb against your lower lip. It comes away red. “He would have found you by now if he actually cared. You know that.”

You glare at him. Silent.

“Besides, be honest with yourself, pup,” he leans in close, too close, “why would a man like him need a bodyguard?” He tilts your head to one side, then the other. “You’re just a mangy stray he took in out of pity. A fighting dog. Good at ripping out throats, and nothin’ else. Ain’t that right?”

He shoves your face away sharply. Your world spins from that small action alone, forcing you to squeeze your eyes shut until you see spots in the darkness. Boots scrape along the floor behind you. You take in one last gasp of air before the metal touches your skin.

Sylus checks his messages again. Nothing.

No texts, no calls, no mysterious notes before you left.

Shouldn’t we set the rules for hide-and-seek before the game starts?

It isn’t necessarily unusual for you to disappear, but it is unusual for you to ignore his messages. Even if you didn’t answer right away, you still read them. Now, the patronizing notice of Delivered stares back at him.

He snaps his fingers and Mephisto is there in a flash, perched on his finger and rapt with attention. The poor bird is missing you, too. His hoard of trinkets to give you is stagnant - nothing coming in and nothing going out. He’s too nervous to even go collect more.

“Search Linkon City. Any sign of them, you report it.”

The mechanical crow leaps off his finger and out the window in a flash.

In the next instant, the twins are standing before him, summoned by a quick message. They stand at attention, too. No banter passes between them. “Search the N109 Zone for any sign of Raven. By any means necessary.”

“On it, Boss.”

“Sure thing, Boss!”

He stares at the messages again as their footsteps recede into the hall. He scans your last message, searching for any miniscule clue as to where you’ve run off to.

One of my old “colleagues” is bugging me again :/

Want me to take care of them for you?

I can do it myself

I know you can, sweetheart

It was too vague to go off of. You were very tight-lipped about your past, only making off-handed comments about it here and there: You don’t sing anymore (implying you did once, which came as a minor shock to him), your apparent wealth is stolen (but no hints to where from), and you’re more familiar with the streets of Linkon than the N109 Zone. Never any mentions of past dealings you had before, or anything close to a partnership that could have involved “colleagues”.

The longer he sits here, straining for any glimpse of a past you never involved him in, the more he wishes he’d asked more. It wasn’t for lack of interest, but you weren’t very vocal at the best of times. It felt more appropriate to leave it alone and wait for you to offer up tidbits on your own.

Two prominent marks marr your skin, presenting where the alligator clips had pressed into your back over and over and over again. Charred flesh, bubbling with blisters. Something sharp pops one of them. You draw blood from your cheek to avoid screaming.

The man sighs. “You’re a stubborn one.” He pushes off of the wall and leans down to be face-to-face with you. “What’s it gonna take to get you to sing for us?”

Your body trembles with exertion as you raise your head. You haven’t been allowed to sleep. Every time your eyes droop, you get shocked. You fight not to collapse. You can’t let the torture break you. You can’t.

He smirks as he sees the blood dribbling from your mouth, mixing with saliva and snot as it trails down your chin. His satisfaction sickens you. For as much as you understand the thrill, understand the rush of bringing someone to their knees before you, you never looked at them like this. This is revolting.

You spit in his face.

“Ah, fuck!” He almost falls on his ass as he jerks away. His nice sleeve is ruined as he wipes his face.

Lightning sears through your nerves. It burns you up inside. Your muscles clench harshly, spasming uncontrollably. All air rushes out of you. It feels like drowning. Your eyes stare at the bright white light on the ceiling, unable to cry out, unable to look away. Unable to breathe.

For the first time since this whole thing began, tears form in your eyes.

The clips are removed from your skin. Colored and black spots obscure the blurry light. You think you might pass out. You think you’ve reached the end of your resolve.

And then you can breathe again.

The breaths come in wheezy and ragged. Your body lurches forward as you cough. Your throat spasms, stomach twisting with the need to throw up. But nothing comes out. You dry heave into your lap, blood landing in wet droplets on your pants.

The man pulls your head up by your hair. You can’t see him. Can’t see the ugly grimace on his face. Your eyes won’t open. You cough, desperate to vomit in the false hope that it would make you feel better. Hot tears slip down your cheeks.

“You-!” He growls in frustration as he drops your head again. You’re vaguely aware of the sound of his shoes as he paces back and forth in front of you. “Okay. Okay! Fine! You can rest now, pup. How’s that sound? You can take a nice, long nap. Sounds good, right?”

You don’t answer him. Don’t show any signs you even heard him.

“Keep an eye on them. I’m gonna go fucking change.”

Sylus hasn’t been idle. Fully aware of the breach to your privacy, he taps away at your laptop. The password wasn’t guessed, merely bypassed. He didn’t trust that he’d be able to guess it before being locked out.

He pulls up the same messenger app you use on your phone. Bypassing the password again, he watches the spinning buffer as it syncs up with your phone. It takes far too long. He busies himself with going through your search history with no luck. You know how to play this game, how to meander in and out of danger without leaving any traces. It’s a remarkable talent that frustrates him to no end right now.

No messages from Luke, Kieran, or Mephisto.

A quiet jingle comes from your laptop speakers as the sync completes. He searches the most recent messages, ignoring his own despite the red dot next to his avatar. One chat exchange in particular catches his eye:

Hello, angel~ When u gonna come sing for me again?

Never.

So ur still alive then? Thats good to hear

Ive missed u <3

Stop sending your men after me. Our business is done.

U know damn well it isnt. U reneged our agreement AND stole from me

U owe me bigger than ever, angel

You’ve made more since I left. You’re not hurting for funds.

Its the principle of the matter

U still flaked

- Read 9:38pm, Thursday -

Okay, don’t respond

But if u want this stain off ur back, u gotta finish ur deal

Same stakes as before

Ill even shorten ur sentence to one week

Now doesnt that sound fair?

- Read 12:02am, Friday -

Second Circle

David will pick u up

No thanks.

Fine. See u in hell, angel~

By the end, Sylus’s face is set in a sour sneer. The way whoever this was spoke to you was demeaning, controlling, disgusting. They acted like they owned you. You’re a bird that can’t be caged; Sylus knows this well.

But, it’s the best lead he’s got. Nothing else is as recent as this, except for your text to him complaining about your old “colleague”.

He messages Mephisto, telling him to scope out the Second Circle, a nightclub on the outskirts of Linkon. He starts digging into the place, its owner, and what he can do to have a meeting with them.

You fight sleep for as long as you can. You try everything to avoid letting the exhaustion sink in. You rub your wrists raw with the rope holding you down, hoping the pain will distract you, but the person overlooking you stops you immediately. You try to put together and take apart a gun in your mind, imagining the heft of it in your hand, the recoil that shoots up your arm, the satisfaction shooting these fuckers in the face would bring. You even try running through your last escape from this place, mentally following the corridors and steps it took to secure your freedom.

None of it works. Against your will, your body gives in. You slip into dreamless sleep.

You don’t know how long it is when you’re awoken.

The chair tips, snapping your consciousness back to the present as gravity shifts. It falls backwards, the ceiling light bearing down on you like the desert sun. Your head hits the cold floor. Hard. Before your mind can catch up, a cry is torn from your throat.

The cry is cut short.

A haze of disconnection washes over your body. You can’t feel your pain, can’t feel your body. It’s like your mind is trapped in a prison. You’re forced to watch through wide eyes as the man leans over you.

“Finally…” His voice floats in like a distant echo. “Take them to the boss. He’s got his angel back.”

No. No, no, no, no, no.

You try to fight against them as they untie your hands and ankles, as they lift you up, as your legs start walking without your input. You try to scream. To lash out. To do anything.

And you can’t.

The man must notice your struggle. Must feel it through his Evol. “Relax, pup. The worst of it is over. Now you just gotta complete your end of the bargain.”

Your body walks down a long, familiar hallway. The doors at the end are wide open. A poker table sits in the middle of the room, surrounded by faces you wish you didn’t recognize. Some of them bear the scars of your last escape.

In a gilded throne, sitting across from the dealer with a tall stack of poker chips, is the man you’ve been running from.

The Devil.

The neon lights of the night club shine like a warning sign through the tinted windows of the car. The electronic red curves and twists of a script font. The outline of a devil girl lounging on top of the name, cleavage out and winking. Her tail ends in a sharp point, underlining the name.

The Second Circle.

The air in the vehicle is suffocating. Rage boils under the surface of Sylus’s skin, barely contained. His Evol burns his hands, aching to be released.

Luke opens his door as Kieran stands guard next to it.

You’re in there.

It’s been almost a week since you disappeared. Two days since Mephisto spotted you through the door of the club. One day since he requested an audience with its owner.

Sylus gets out of the car. Luke closes the door behind him. The twins flank his sides as he walks to the entrance. A long line of patrons waits to be let in by the bouncer, a man as tall as he was and twice as wide. He barely glances at Sylus before letting him in. The customers closest to the door fall eerily silent as he passes, oppressed by the energy surrounding him.

Purple, blue and red lights break up the darkness. Poles occupied by dancers are interspersed through the room, with girls dressed up in skimpy red devil costumes or sinfully revealing nun attire. One of the poles stands on a prominent stage, gauzy red curtains drawn to a close behind it. All three of them scan the room for signs of you with no luck.

Drunken dancers and tipsy customers pass by in a blur as he crosses the dance floor to a door hidden in the shadows. Two men in suits guard it, shoulder to shoulder.

“I have a meeting with the Devil,” he announces over the music. Despite the heat raging within him, his words are cold.

One of the men nods his head. “Mr. Sylus,” he greets, too warmly given the circumstances. “The Devil has asked that you please wait until after the main show. It will be starting soon.” He gestures over to the stage.

Sylus stares through them, searching for any reason why he really should wait and not release his Evol right now and tear his way through the building.

The lights shift from bright neons to sultry reds and oranges as the music fades out. The anticipation in the room is palpable as all eyes turn to the stage. A silhouette with feathery wings stands behind the curtain.

None of this was interesting to Sylus. What stopped him in his tracks was a voice. Your voice.

His eyes shoot to the stage, face hardening as he watches the curtains part.

You, dressed up in a white angel costume, altered from something pure and holy to be lustful. Wings stick from your back, short but no less enticing. He can’t hear the slow jazz music over the siren sound of your voice. Can’t feel the burning of his Evol as his eyes follow your movements to the pole.

“You must like this song,” he points out with a grin. “You keep humming along to it.”

You smirk as you meet his eye, not pausing as you copy the melody note for note. It’s much better than his singing.

“Do you know the words?”

You nod. You push yourself up from the sofa where you lounged to lay yourself across his lap. Your arms wrap around his neck, lips brushing against his ear as your humming fades away. “I don’t sing anymore.”

His hand trails along your spine before resting on your waist and pulling you closer. “Shall I sing them, then?”

You pinch his shoulder. He chuckles.

All at once, the music turns sour within him.

“Boss, is that…?” Luke pipes up.

Kieran shakes his head. “No, it can’t be. Right?”

His hand clenches into a fist by his side. It’s minutes of torture. His eyes can’t seem to look away as you move fluidly around the pole, smiling too softly at the patrons who stand at the edge of the stage. At one point, you kneel down, knees spread apart, right in front of one of them. She gulps as you grab her by the chin, gently guiding her while you sing until her face is so close. If she’d been a little bolder, she could have met your lips. But your fingers trail along her jaw until you let go, slowly standing up while maintaining eye contact with her.

As soon as the final notes leave your lips, Sylus is at the door. He doesn’t stay to watch the curtains close. Luke and Kieran rush after him as he speeds off down a hallway.

Once the door closes, the cheering is silenced, unable to reach through the thick material. What takes its place is the laughter down the hall.

Each step feels too long. It seems to stretch on forever. Door after door, all leading up to the open double doors at the end of the hall. He only stops once he’s crossed the threshold, standing just inside the doorway as the players turn to acknowledge his presence.

The man in the throne doesn’t bother to pull his face out of your neck.

The sneer on Sylus’s face deepens. This isn’t you. You would never perch on another man’s lap like this. You would never giggle as his mouth drags over your skin, whispering sinful things in your ear. You would never turn to look at him like that, like he’s a stranger you’re passing in the street.

“We have business.”

The Devil sighs boredly, finally drawing away from the angel in his lap to look at Sylus. He smirks easily. He’s completely relaxed. The players set their cards down slowly.

“Well, well, well. Mr. Sylus. How nice to finally make your acquaintance.”

“What did you do to them?”

“Who, me?” He chuckles. He reaches for a glass on the edge of the table and brings it calmly to his lips, drinking the expensive scotch long and slow. “I didn’t do anything.”

Sylus sighs sharply, bored of this game. “Fine. What did your men do to them?”

The Devil cocks his head to the side, smirking wider. It looks too big for his face. “Nothin’ they couldn’t handle.”

Luke and Kieran keep a close eye on the poker players as their hands reach beneath the table. Their own hands come to rest at the weapons on their hips.

“Didja wanna make a deal, or are you just gonna stand there all night?”

There is no deal that could be made that would be fair. The Devil already had what he wanted - you. Under his control, on his lap, answering to his every whim. If he can’t deal with the Devil…

“Whose Evol is it, sweetie?”

You tilt your head. It’s familiar, and it’s horrifically not you. “What do you mean, mister?”

His right eye glows as he levels his stare on you. He’s never used this on you before. It feels like a betrayal of your autonomy. Somehow, he knows you forgive him.

A face flickers across his vision. Blood stains a nasty grimace. You desire the owner of that face to die. You don’t care how. Your rage almost makes him dizzy.

He pulls a gun from his waistband. The owner of the face stands first, aiming for the Onychinus leader. Sylus shoots first.

Blood splatters on the cards.

All hell breaks loose.

Your eyes seem to come into focus in a flash. Luke and Kieran are too quiet as they shoot down the other players at the table. Sylus’s own Evol reaches throughout the room, evaporating bullets before they can hit either of the twins, himself, or you. He doesn’t stop watching you.

Your face is contorted with fury. The usual calm neutrality that hides your emotions when you fight is gone. You shatter the glass of scotch on the wooden rim of the poker table. The shard you grab digs into your hand as you aim for the Devil’s jugular. He grabs your wrist with one hand, the other gripping your throat in a vice grip. Even as you lose oxygen, you fight back. You will never stop fighting back. You shake with effort as you push against his hand, but you’re gaining ground.

A black and red tendril of smoke grabs the Devil’s wrist, wrenching his hand away. The shard of glass goes clean through his skin, through his artery, until the pointed tip is caressing his spine.

He sputters up at you with wide eyes, choking on blood. It stains the white of your costume. Stains your skin. Stains the table. His hold on your neck loosens.

You lean down to his ear. “Our deal is over.”

Blood gurgles in his throat as he tries to protest, to argue, to get the last word in.

His hand falls from your throat, hanging limply off the side of the throne. The life drains from his eyes.

The room is still. Bodies lay across the floor. Some lean over the table. Chips and cards are scattered everywhere.

Luke and Kieran disappear down the hall, taking care of the rest of the security that would prevent your escape. Sylus steps over the carnage as he rounds the table. You slowly let go of the glass, not bothering to hide your wince as tiny fragments imbed themselves in your flesh. He wordlessly helps you stand from the dead man’s lap, hands becoming stained with the same blood that covers you.

You finally meet his eyes. And it’s you. The pain and anger and hatred in your eyes is too real, too genuine, to be faked by a puppet master. He brushes the blood splatter off your face with the back of his fingers. You lean into the touch without hesitation.

“Are you alright?” he asks, voice soft.

You take a deep breath in and release it through your nose. You slowly nod.

“The car’s waiting outside.”

You take a step forward. Your knees give out underneath you. Sylus catches you before you can hit the ground. You hiss in pain as you grab onto him with your injured hand by pure instinct. Your body is still trying to recover from the torture, from the sleep deprivation, from being under someone else’s relentless control for so long. He effortlessly lifts you into his arms.

“You can rest now,” he whispers against your hair. You can feel the rumble of each word deep within his chest. It calls to you, encouraging you to let go. You give in willingly this time, holding onto his shirt even as your blood seeps into the expensive fabric, and close your eyes with your ear pressed to his heart.

You look so small and fragile in his arms. He glances at the miserable man in his gilded throne. If you hadn’t already killed him, he would have delighted in torturing him the same way they’d done to you.

The hallway feels shorter as he carries you out of the building. His Evol lashes out at anybody that tries to stop him that the twins missed; footmen who flood in from the side doors. The club is devoid of patrons by the time he passes through the door at the end of the hall. Dancers panic as they hold each other, free from the same power that controlled you minutes prior. Luke holds open the front door. Kieran holds open the rear passenger side door. The car pulls away from the curb minutes before police arrive.

You wake up in agony.

Your shoulder blades are the worst. Excruciating pain pulses into your muscles from the injuries left behind from the alligator clamps that pumped electricity into your body. You’re laying on your stomach to avoid making it worse. It doesn’t feel like it can get worse.

You force yourself up onto your hands and knees, your body screaming at you to get away. You can’t see where you are through silent tears that plop on the pillow you were just using.

“Kitten,” Sylus quietly calls out. You recognize his hands on your sides as he gently lowers you back down to your stomach. You sob into the pillow. “Stay still. I’ll be back in a minute.”

You clutch at the covers and pillows until your knuckles are white. A bandage is wrapped around your hand. Blood begins to seep through it.

The bed dips beside you when he gets back. Cool cloths are draped over your back, tamping down the burning temporarily. You sigh with relief. As your fingers relax, Sylus takes your damaged hand and begins unwrapping the stained bandage. His touch is tender, careful not to hurt you further.

“Tell me the next time you intend to settle a debt.” Despite how careful he is to make his voice sound neutral and unbothered, it’s edged with genuine worry and care.

You nod slightly.

With the bandage removed, you can see through your blurry vision the telltale sign of stitches pulling your skin closed along the width of your palm. A couple of them are snapped, but there are still enough in place that fixing it now would bring more pain than necessary. His hands don’t falter as he wraps fresh gauze around the agitated wound.

“I’m sorry…” You don’t need to look to know his red eyes are trained on your face. You can tell in the way he pauses, freezing for just a moment right before he starts wrapping your hand in a new bandage. “He wasn’t this… powerful before. Back then, it was my own desperation that caused me to stay, not some fucked up Evol.”

He huffs, remembering the messages that led him to you. “How much did you steal from him?”

You shoot him a disapproving look, knowing immediately just how he got that info, but the quirk of your lips betrays your amusement. “I almost emptied the whole account.”

He chuckles as he tapes the bandage in place. You lay your hand back down on the bed. He brushes some tears from your cheek. For you to let your guard down around him so freely, especially after what you went through… “Where else are you hurt?”

“Bumped my head, but it’s not so bad anymore,” you assure him. It wouldn’t be good business to have your prized dancer covered in bruises and welts. The wings of your costume had hid the damage to your back pretty well. Besides, nobody was looking at your back when you sang anyway. Your neck had some bruising from the final confrontation. It would fade with time.

The bed shifts again as he stands up. You can see him disappear into the bathroom out of the corner of your eye. From a window right nearby, a familiar black shape swoops in. Mephisto wastes no time in cuddling up to your cheek, tucking his body by your neck. His beak nips gently at your ear and cheeks while he makes a strange cooing noise.

You smile, closing your eyes and basking in his affections. “Hello, Mephie. I missed you, too.” He clicks his beak and bites the corner of your lips. “I’ll tell you where I go next time, too, okay?” Seeming to approve your promise, he starts preening your hair.

“You’re going to wear your voice out if you keep talking so much,” Sylus teases. He sets a glass of water on the nightstand and sets two pills beside it. They’re not regular over the counter pain meds; these are definitely heavier duty.

You look up at him sadly. He catches your meaning in an instant. You want your voice to run raw, until speaking hurts too much. You’ve spoken so much the last few days against your will, you need to remember how to shut up again, need to remember the pain of talking.

Mephisto complains as Sylus slowly helps you into a sitting position, fluffing up against the pillow as he watches on impatiently. The cloths fall from your back. He sets them aside once he’s sure you won’t fall over. You hold the pills in your mouth as you take a sip of the water, closing your eyes and focusing on swallowing everything without gagging. You drain half of the glass after with a sigh.

He takes the glass and helps you lay back down. The cloths are replaced on your burns.

“You should get some more rest,” he says. Mephisto picks at the fine hairs on the back of your neck, continuing his preening. “It’ll be easier to sleep this off.”

You pat the bed next to you with your good hand, giving him a pointed, questioning look. He leans down and places a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“How could I say no to you?”

You watch as he undresses and puts on something more comfortable to sleep in. You flip your head over when he crawls in beside you. He lays on his side, hand gently tracing your cheek and jaw. He watched the movement. Your hand glides up his arm to put a stop to his restlessness. Crimson eyes meet yours.

You smile. The motion captures his attention. You drag your fingers lightly along his arm, up his shoulder, and to his cheek. His skin prickles everywhere you touch. A red-hot possessiveness wells inside him, desperate for him to be the only person to experience you like this, mixing with fear that he may never know exactly what they used you for before his arrival. And… something softer, full of longing. A desire to keep you safe, to ensure you never have to be afraid with him.

He leans forward with very little coaxing, capturing your mouth like it will redeem him of every sin he’s ever committed. It’s reverent, full of silent worship. Your lips tremble. He cups your cheek as he kisses you again and again and again.

This will never happen again.

You sigh into his mouth, pure relief stealing the tension from your body.

I know.

---

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