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He is no better than a fucking man.
No, he's not even a man. He's a dirty, filthy, slutty, cum dump mess of a cockwhore. He needed someone to break him open like he's pretty little shell and just fucking ruin him, turn him from pretty to dirty, paint him in their cum, fuck into him until he forgets his own name. Until his DNA is no longer his, his whole ancestry would be changed.
He would willingly let him spit on him, let him slap him around, treat him like a dirty sock. He'd moan so prettily for him, grind against his leg, hungry, needy, desparate—not an ounce of shame in his fucking body. Hell he'd kiss the fucking ground, he'd cry for it, beg and plead, crawl on all fours like a pathetic mutt.
Pathetic? Kim Seungmin?
Absolutely. Hell yeah. No doubt about it.
Seungmin will beg as if the whole world depended on it, like it's the only thing keeping his lungs pumping, his heart beating, blood flowing. His hand gripping his waist like he owns them, like his body was created just for his touch, his body waiting, quivering, begging, throbbing to be taken and destroyed.
Seungmin's throat is empty and he hates it, he wants to choke it, gag on it, drool on it, suck on it like its a fucking lollipop. He wants it deep in his throat, wants to feel the heaviness on his tongue, wants to smell and taste the sweat.
Seungmin wants to feel it in his soul.
If the world was ending and the only way to save it was turning into the most pathetic two dollar whore—begging for his boyfriend's dick. Rest assured, the world would be safe before anyone could breathe.
Seungmin is horny.
Seungmin is nasty.
Seungmin is filthy.
Seungmin is coming once again.
And Seungmin is...
Once again, no better than a man.
Which is a weird thing to say considering the fact that he, himself, is a man.
But nothing detracts from the fact that Seungmin in this current moment and second is no better than a man who hasn't felt a woman's touch in years. He's no better than an feral submissive omega wolf in heat, on his knees, ass high up in the air, slick gushing out of his hole like a waterfall as he begs to be used and knotted in the most filthiest and sinister ways.
And that's exactly what he is at this exact moment—a feral submissive omega with its tail held high, hole fluttering, slick—In this case lube, slipping past the blue diamond butt plug nestled deep into his ass. It's so deep, Seungmin can feel it pressing right up against his prostate; he can feel it in the back of his throat. The thickness stretches him beyond his comprehension, walls fluttering about, pleasure and humiliation pooling hot and fast in his gut.
His knees are wobbling, bruised red, matching the other purple blotches all over his inner thighs, ass and chest. His right hand is stuffed deep into his gym shorts and boxers. Seungmin's hand completely engulfed his cock—it was just that small he could cover it with his entire hand.
His hand formed into a very loose, cum-filled circle around his tiny cock, the tip red and swollen—twitching painfully. Boxers were soaked, drenched, dark with huge stains, clinging to his thighs and belly like a second skin. Cum had built up and smeared over the past ten minutes, hot, filthy and gross, dripping down his body like he'd pissed himself.
Seungmin thinks he did at one point. Four orgasms in, and he still has at least four more left inside. He rolls his hips faster and faster, slightly bouncing with each roll forward, fringe damp and covering his vision, but it's okay, he doesn't really need to see.
Vision is not his utmost priority.
Seungmin doesn't need to see them. There's no reason for him to watch his boyfriend and best friend work out when all he needs is sound.
All he needs to do is just hear.
The grunts, the airy moans, the harsh breathing, the curses, the whispered praises and motivations. Every single sound bouncing off the walls, echoing in the air like porn playing on loop. The heavy sound of weights hitting the yoga mats with heavy, harsh, sharp thuds. The low, deep, guttural groans of extortion and effort, breathy curses—shit.
"One more... that's it... hold it, hold it... goood job."
"Up and down... no, no, no... slow down, slow down. You're going too fast. It's going to hurt if you keep moving like that. Slow down, it's not going anywhere. Savor it, feel it...."
"Mhm... raise your hips some more... higher. Higher. Tsk, I said, raise them higher."
"You can take it... You can, you've done it plenty of times before. Stop being a crybaby and ride it properly, or we're starting over."
"Push harder—yeah, just like that."
He's just working out, that's all he's doing, just working out—just existing in the comfort of his own home, in the comfort of his own living room. Just existing and breathing, and yet—somehow this very fact is obscene and dangerous.
It's carnal. Salacious. Vulgar. Lewd. Sensual.
An attack on Seungmin's life.
It's all Seo Changbin's fucking fault. This is all his fucking fault, he just had to open his big ass mouth and say something about stamina and... well Seungmin had no idea what the fuck Changbin was talking about at the time because he was too busy staring at his boyfriends biceps.
Those biceps that kept getting bigger and bigger by the day. Shoulders getting wider and wider. If it wasn't for that smug, cocky, gym loving bastard his boyfriend wouldn't be moaning and grunting like he reinvebted sex, he wouldnt be out here lifting weights like a damn sex god whos audtining for the worlds wettest sex dream.
Seungmin's pissed—but not in the im going to beat Seo Changbin's ass kind of way. Oh no. He's pissed because from now every time he steps foot in a gym or see any gym equipment all he is going to hear is those godforsaken strained moans ripping from deep within his throat and he won't be able to stop his mind from conjuring up images of his boyfriend. Face flushed, body heaving as sweat cascaded down his jaw meeting at the ends of his chin before plopping down onto his soaked covered muscle shirt.
And then—
"Fuck—ah, almost there—"
Seungmin freezes, mind going blank instantly, all sinister thoughts of his boyfriend grow wings and fly right out of his head.
That sound. That beautiful sound. That very specific sound shoots through the air like a rocket blasting off into space—in this case, his spine. Seungmin could recognize that sound from a mile away. It was breathless, a grumble at first, then came a wrecked whimper, sharp at the soft, whiny at the end. Melting into a soft moan, and he knows. Seungmin knows that moan, it's the same sounds he makes when he cums.
But it's not just any orgasm, no, it's the intense deep ones. The ones that have his eyes rolling back into his head, body convulsing, chest heaving, face and body flushed red.
That very sound that has Seungmin falling apart within seconds of it hitting his ears, his body freezes, breath catching in his throat. No self-control, no permission, no brain cells—Seungmin's body shivers violently, cum shooting out of his fist, slipping past his fingers into his soaked boxers.
Just as Seungmin was slowing his hand movements, seconds away from collapsing forward and curling in on himself, dazed, used, raw, and exhausted, his voice slid through the slight crack in the door.
"Again."
A broken whimper.
"You can go one more, I know you can."
A head nod. He can go one more. If he says he can, then he can.
"Come on, last one and then break."
A shift, a tiny glide of his cum covered hand results in a pained moan, and then a shake of his head. He can't do it. It hurts. The tip of his cock was red, pulsing sore, spent and definitely overstimulated. Seungmin makes a sound he's never even made before, didn't even know he was capable of making—a painful, cracked, broken sob that reverberates throughout his soul. Forcing its way out of his chest as if he'd just torn his ACL.
"...s'hurt, too much... can't."
Seungmin's tiny cock jerks back to life in his palms, hearing his boyfriend breathless chuckle. "Aww, poor baby, it hurts?" A dangerous smirk, Seungmin could hear it as clear as day, could picture those lips twitching, tongue darting out to wet his lips. "You can take it, your body's made for it."
He's right. Seungmin could take it, and maybe he will. It won't be a pretty sight... well, maybe for his boyfriend it would be. But personally, not for him. Seungmin's going to cry himself through it, going to shake, going to beg, going to drool and melt like ice cream on a hot sunny day. Seungmin's going to be a good boy and break. He's no longer a man, no longer a person. Just an object to be used, tossed around, and broken over and over again.
Seungmin's hands are moving on their own accord, hips bouncing along with the horrible tempo, tears dripping down his face into the ground with tiny plaps. He sniffles, chest hiccuping as the pain starts to hit him tenfold—but he doesn't stop.
A broken sob leaves his wobbling lips, and his left hand reaches up to wipe the snot from his nose. Seungmin's mouth is agape, harsh pants and drool dangling from his bottom lip, chest heaving so hard he could barely breathe. His heart thudding harshly between his ribs, he sucks the spit back into his mouth with a loud fuck.
Seungmin is a cockwhore on a mission to get fucked fifty different ways to Sunday. A slut who is on a mission to get tossed around like snow in a snow globe. He wants to get turned inside out like a tornado.
So with all this being said, Seungmin is currently hiding in his boyfriend's apartment, in his room, on his knees, a couple of feet away from the cracked door.
Seungmin's fist moved in a blur, it was as if his hand wasn't even his own—it was too clumsy, shaky, uncoordinated, desperate, fever-hot as it worked his sore tiny cock between his thighs. There was no real feel to it, his cock pitifully jerking in his palms, rubbed red and raw, he peeked down and moaned loudly at the sigh of his cock against his palms. His shorts and boxers were soaked as if he been doused in water, sticking to his skin painted in glistening streaks of white with hints of golden from his piss that leaked out over and over again.
The strings of sticky cum and the fabric of his clothes sticks to his thighs makes it a bit harder for him to glide his hand, his wrist is starting to burn but he doesn't care. This has happened before—once, twice, thrice, and too many times to count. And yet he can't stop. Won't stop.
Couldn't stop even though it hurt... he won't let him.
"Yes, yes, yes," He whined, the sensation from how good it felt to force himself to keep going, force himself to ruin himself. The small limp cock in his palm gave one last tiny pulse—before he's screaming out, high and broken as his body convulsed violently, slit shooting out drops of cum followed by dribbles of piss.
It was hot, shameful, degrading, but he didn't stop; he kept going, the liquid soaked into the puddle on the floor. He gasped and begged through it, full body shudders, hips bucking up erratically and out of his control. Seungmin's mind blacked completely, cotton candy filling the empty space. He was gone, jumped off the deep end to never be saved, he was blitzed out, standing on the cliff over overstimulation.
Seungmin collapses forward onto the floor, face hitting the soft carpet with a dazed giggle, mind and body floaty, and oh so, so happy. He knows he should get up, knows he should clean up the mess he's made, but his body just lolled on the floor uselessly.
His breathing was shallow pants as everything blurred around him, his vision slowly began to dim, his ears began to ring, and he let out another delirious giggle. And with that, his eyes slip shut.
Two. He can take more rounds.
One or two minutes later, the bedroom door opens and closes, footsteps shuffling in leisurely, it was completely silent, not that Seungmin needed any sounds to know what was going to happen next.
He did plan this after all.
An exasperated sigh, a sock-covered foot pressing against his cheek, squishing it in tiny circles, eliciting another giggle from him. Clothes are rustling and dropping to the floor with small thuds. No words had to be spoken; he just weakly reached behind him, pulled out the plug, letting it hit the ground with a thud.
Jisung didn't bother stretching him open; he just lined himself up and slid in with one sloppy squelch, firm hand on his waist. Seungmin takes him as easily as anything else he does in his life, opened up roughly, sucking him in like a flithy vacumm, grip hugging him in a vice hold that has Jisung biting back a giggle bubbling up inside, and dripping with enough cum and lube to trickles down his thighs with every thrust.
"Ah, ah, ah," Seungmin garbled his words, the lack of oxygen finally starting to catch up to him, a strong hand grabs and holds both of Seungmin's wrists firmly against his lower back with such a loose grip—if Seungmin tugged just right, wiggle just right, he could easily pull away from his grip. It's a grip he hasn't tried to fight, a grip he doesn't think he could fight even if he wanted to, not because he can't.
But because he doesn't want to. Jisung wasn't using as much strength Seungmin knew he had to keep him pinned down. That fact alone was enough to have him melting into the floor, enough to keep him up on his trembling knees for Jisung to use him as he pleased.
But Jisung's hold on his wrist wasn't the only thing keeping Seungmin pinned to the ground, though, and it's not what has him drooling, letting out high falsetto moans, eyes rolling back in pure ecstasy.
Jisung's foot was still on his face, applying pressure when needed. Jisung smacks his ass causing him to whimper. "You take my cock so fucking good, yeah," he moaned, grinding deep only once before pulling back and forcing his cock in hard.
"Take it," Seungmin repeats dumbly, mind going hazy from all the filthy Jisung is spewing. "Take it, take it."
"Shit, that's a good fucking bitch" Jisung curses.
Bitch, slut, whore, cumrag, I will be whatever you want me to be as long as you don't stop fucking me like this.
Seungmin smiled.
You know that smile.
The broken, fucked-out grin that has his face split open and glowing, his teeth on full display with heavy strings of spit spilling past the corners of his lips, tongue lolling out, causing more spit to spill, soaking the carpet and the side of his face. His vision completely blurred, glazed over, and crossed sparkling with tears that freely spilled over.
His cheek rubs against the soaked carpet, with the help of the foot pressed frimly against his cheek, his ass still held high, wrist still pinned on his lower back
He looked like sin. And he couldn't be even happier. This is all Seungmin has ever wanted in life.
Jisung was fucking him just the right way, like a madman, each glide of his cock slamming into his soft gummy walls, battering his prosate. Seungmin couldn't hold back the little laughs and whimpers being forcefully fucked out of him each time he's filled to the brim.
And Jisung, himself, had no plans of slowing down either, had no plans of letting him breathe. Just continued to fuck him like he was possessed. There was no rhythm, just hard, unrelenting kinds of fury against his prostate that had his body convulsing.
Jisung laughed. Low, deep, and breathless filled amusement. "Listen—fuck listen to you," He growls in between another laugh. "You fucking like this shit. You like being treated like a step stool, like being treated like nothing but worthless whore. Don't you?"
Seungmin wanted to nod, but it was impossible with the food pressed against his face, the hand wrapped around his wrist finally tightening, his thrust turning violent.
"Fucking say it."
"L-love it," He gasped with another smile, eyes rolling back when another sharp snap knocked the air out of his lungs. "Yes, yes, l-love it, please don't stop." Seungmin feels it pooling in his stomach, tiny cock bobbing and throbbing with need as it continues to go neglected.
The pain twists into torturous pleasure, and Seungmin knows, he's going to cum again from Jisung's cock. It's exhilarating. Seungmin can't help but keep that grin on his face as he gets fucked stupid.
He was no better than a man. He didn't want to breathe, didn't want to think, didn't want any mercy, he just wanted to be used and abused.
"Ah... fuck... hit me, hit me." Seungmin babbles mindlessly, his brain turned to straight mush.
"Say please," Jisung pressed the balls of his feet harshly against his cheek.
"Please," he manages to choke out. "Hit me, please, s'wat it, wan it, please, please, Ji-Jisung." Jisung continued to slam into him with brutal, violent, rhythmic thrust—so deep he felt it in his throat, felt the heavy weight of his cock rearranging his insides. It felt like his cock was slamming into ribs, so sharp that he felt every single ridge against his skin, Seungmin's body jostled from the force, the slam of Jisung hips against his ass was loud, wet and merciless.
Jisung smiled, throwing his head back in laughter as he raised his hand and slammed it down on his ass. The first slap echoed throughout the room, sharp and brutal, red already forming in the shape of a handprint.
The second Seungmin, cried. Wailed out in pleasure and then pain, tears welling up and spilling over as he choked on his spit—his back arched deeper pushing his ass back into Jisung's palms in a silent plea. The third slap Seungmin was giggling once again, breathlessly the sound bubbling up from the tip of toes to the last strand on his head as Jisung landed another hard slap across his ass, the sound cracking like a bull whip.
Seungmin's skin was starting to blossom a beautiful red color, raised and glowing with heat, Jisung's fingerprints finally starting to take shape like flowers blooming. Every hit rained down harder, sharper, violently, but it wasn't enough to actually wound Seungmin.
Not like he truly wants it. Maybe next time he will ask Jisung to use that leather belt he just bought. He can break it in with his ass, leave thick red welts all over his ass.
But beggars can't be choosers. It was close, though. Jisung's foot shifted on his cheek, pressing harder, sock-covered toes dug painfully into his cheek, curling inwards, dragging against his skin in a possessive claim.
Jisung's hands were relentless, never-ending. Each slap harder than the last, hotter than the last, pain exploding up his spine like fire encapsulating a house.
"Count," Jisung laughed, low and heavy with arousal. Seungmin responded with a giggle, tongue heavy and clumsy against his spit-covered lips.
"... o-one."
Smack.
"... s'two."
Smack.
"... s't-three."
The foot pressed against his cheek lifted just an inch, only to reposition fully onto his head. Pinning him like he was a trophy beneath his feet, like he was his most prized possession. But it wasn't about the weight, it was about the symbolism.
He belongs here. Right there on the ground, being used as a stepping stool.
Smack.
"... f-four."
Smack.
"... f-five—god, please, please—"
"Wrong name, baby," he replied with another hit harder than the others. "M'not god."
Jisung's nails were leaving faint blood trails just beneath the surface, leaving the kind of marks that would bruise and throb for weeks, the kind that would leave stains on the sheets.
And yet Seungmin still found a way to open his mouth and beg for more.
"H-harder... hit me... harder." He giggles breathlessly, eyes rolling back. " s'can take it, please, please, wan it. Wan it to hurt, break me, make me bleed, please, please."
Jisung barked out a laugh almost feral-like.
"Course you can, fucking masochist."
Jisung obliged. Hitting him again. And Again. And Again. And again. Seungmin didn't realize the gravity of his pleas and moans as Jisung happily fulfilled his request, striking him again, then again, and again, and again, until Seungmin's ass cheeks turned blood-shot red, skin spanked raw and sensitive and covered in handprints.
His cock dangled between his legs, dribbles of cum and piss hitting the carpet silently, soaking into already sulked fabric.
The sounds were becoming louder and louder, and Seungmin's giggles became even more delirious and insane. Jisung just grinned down at him, sweat falling from his chin onto his back. "Sound so fucking beautiful," He rasps licking his lips. "You look so beautiful, ass beaten red, drooling and just ruined beyond repair. My beautiful masochist."
Jisung used his free hand to yank Seungmin's hips up even higher, knees almost leaving the floor, feet still somehow pressed against his cheek as he slammed into him again and again. The sting of skin slapping against skin had him half giggling and half sobbing, his body shaking with the force of Jisung's movements, ass glowing red with splotches of blood.
And through this all, they both smiled and giggled.
"J-jisung," he slurred, lips covered and sticky with strings of spit, throat hoarse from moaning and screaming. "C-can't s'too much, s'can—can't" Seungmin's words break into a broken giggle, as Jisung pressed his feet harder against his cheek, grinding his face deeper into the ground, keeping him pinned in place.
"You can, and you fucking will." He growls, twisting the heel of his foot on Seungmin's cheek. "Just look at you, face down in your own fucking piss and cum, taking my cock like a worthless toy. Just a brainless dumb mutt, whining and leaking all over the place."
Jisung lifts his feet just inch before pressing back down, making sure to spread the spit and snot all over the side of his face, as Seungmin tried to respond—tried to say that yes he was a brainless mutt, that he was just a toy for Jisung to use and discarde whenever he pleases. He tried to say something, but the words were stuck in his throat, only coming as choked sobs and coughs.
"I'm sorry," Jisung murmmed, leaning down and slowing his thrust keeping his ass pressed against his pelvis, each roll forcing broken sounds from his lips. "Where are you trying to say something? Can't understand you, baby, speak up. Come on, mutt, use those words... oh, you can't?"
Seungmin tried to nod, but the pressure of Jisung's feet was maddening, humiliating, and shouldn't be as sexy as it was.
Perfect. Just like Seungmin likes it.
His bottom lip wobbled, snot dripping down onto his top lip as he opened his mouth and tried to speak again—but all that came out was a gargle, a strained sob. Jisung sighed, lifting his foot, allowing Seungmin to finally gasp in a strangled breath, only to spitfire—
"J-ji-ji—, please, so good—shit, please, please, more... don't stop..."
Jisung grunted, thrusts turning borderline brutal, his cock hitting so deep that Seungmin just broke out into half-sob like giggles, hiccuping here and there.
"You're so... fuck, so good. Look at you, so fucked out. Can't even fucking speak, all you can do is beg." Jisung laughs condescendingly. "It's okay... god, it's okay. You don't need to think; useless toys don't think. So just lie there and take it. Just let me break you, baby."
Without a second thought, Jisung grips his elbows, yanking him upright, knees sliding further apart on the slick carpet, his upper body being torn away from the ground. His arms pinned to his side, back bent like a bow strung too tight, his body moved aimlessly like a ragdoll.
Seungmin's head bobbed like a bobblehead, his neck way too weak to hold it up properly. It was like someone picked him up in the air and just shook him around.
No mercy. Thank god.
He giggled.
There was something wrong with him. Something is sick in his head for him to want to be used like this.
Jisung wasn't holding back, slamming into him over and over, hard enough to have his brain rattling in his head, heart jackhammering against his ribs; it feels like it's about to burst out of his body. Jisung was on a mission to finish them both off, they still had one more round to get through and Seungmin despite getting all his braincells fucked out of him, knows that the person on the other side of the door was on the verge of blowing his load without even having the chance to even touch him, like he promised him he would.
The sounds grew lewd, dirtier, lower-halves covered in sweat and cum, the scent of sex becoming more potent by the second.
"God, look at you," Jisung voice had dropped an octave lower, breathy, slurred followed by a giggle that broke free from his chest, he squeezed Seungmin's elbows together, creating a hole so he could loop his arm through them, fucking into his hole a little faster—snapping his hips a little harder with desperation, knowing how close he was to jumping off the diving board into pure euphoria.
"Be my good little bitch," he snarls. "and cum all over my cock."
Those very words are what ultimately has Seungmin's body locking up in a painful blinding orgasm, clenching around Jisung's thickness with a broken giggle while his own untouched tiny cock spurts weakly onto the carpet following with tiny drops of golden liquid.
Once again. And honestly Seungmin's very fucking proud himself.
"Fuck... Fuck, fuck, fuck, take it, fucking take it," With that, the sounds of flesh slapping against flesh grow more and more rapid. Seungmin didn't squirm or struggle; he just weakly clenched as Jisung's hands tightened into his soft flesh, when he felt the first dribble of something warm inside of him. Seungmin whimpers helplessly.
Jisung growls in satisfaction, he forces Seungmin back against him and snaps in deep one last time and stays there buried to the hilt. His cock twitching, veins pumping erratically.
Thick. Hot. Creamy. Soaking his walls white.
Jisung stays buried inside, keeping himself warm and wet, grinding against his ass. Keeping Seungmin plugged full. He rocked his hips, not trying to fuck him but to watch, to feel.
It was slow. It was so slow, so deliberate, just rolling back and forth, letting his cock glide smoothly through the pulsing heat, spreading his cum all over his shaft creating a white ring around the base of his cock.
Seungmin's stretched rim sucked him in with every roll forward creamy stickiness stretching thin between them before they snapped against his thighs. Jisung continues to drag painfully against his puffy, abused walls, tip pressing firmly against his prostate hard enough to have fireworks exploding behind his eyes.
Seungmin tried to blink them away, except they continued to explode, no matter how many times he blinked to disperse them. The last thing Seungmin would ever remember before passing out is Jisung breathless laugh from behind him, the twitching of his cock as cum continues to spill out of him.
After that, blankness. Darkness.
Jisung comes to a halt, still keeping his hips flush against his as if to make sure the rest of his cum don't spill out. Eventually, he sighs and pulls out, immediately grabbing one cheek, spreading him wide, and when white begins to spill out between his fingers, he laughs cruelly. "You took it well, baby."
When Jisung releases his hold, Seungmin falls flat onto his stomach, face dropping firmly against the carpeted floor. His cock slips out out with a wet, squelchy noise with the lazy stretch of his used hole releasing the rest of his cum in a revernet, creamy glop that hit the floor. Jisung exhaled sharply, rolling his neck and shoulders, cracking his neck with a deep chest groan.
Without much thought, he scooped Seungmin's unconscious body into his arms from the soaked carpet, one arm nestling under his back, the other in the crook of his knees as if he was carrying his wife to bed, like he was carrying his most prized possession.
He made his way over to the bed.
Jisung placed Seungmin on his back, watching as his legs fell open instinctively, upper body rising and falling with each breath taken, his cock soft, limp covered in his release resting against his pelvis.
Jisung leaned forward, grabbing the hem of his shirt and pulling it over his head, tossing it to the floor before crawling onto the bed and settling himself against the headboard. With a small grunt, he pulled Seungmin’s body over his, face pressed flush against his cheek.
Shifting his position once more, one handing sliding down to cup his ass, thumb smearing a line of blood against his skin. It was hot, muscle twitching beneath his fingertips. Jisung couldn’t wait any longer, and neither could the body standing outside his door.
He reached around and grabbed the base of his cock. It was heavy and hot in his hand. He lined it up with Seungmin's puckered hole, feeling the heat emanating from it. The head of his cock pop through the tightness giving away as his hole accommodate his girth. He pushed further, his cock sinking into the warm, clenching heat, Seungmin lips parted in a silent, sleepy moan as the pressure in his ass increased, his body already full adjusted.
With a final snap of his hips, his cock was buried to the hilt. He took a moment to savor the feeling, his muscles quivering with the effort it took not to come right then and there. After gathering his bearings, Jisung began to thrust, his hips moving in a slow, steady rhythm. Each movement sent shockwaves of sensation through Seungmin's body. "Mm...fuck. That's it," Jisung encouraged. "Take it all for me."
Seungmin's body grew heavier against his chest, his cries and whimpers getting louder as the pleasure began to coil deep in his stomach. Seungmin eyes flutter open, with a soft cry, body jerking as his hole clenches around the cock moving steadily inside of him.
Jisung coos, softly patting his head. "Shh, it's okay. It's okay, baby. Just take it f'me." Seungmin's mind blanked. He broke into a fresh set of tears, his nails digging into Jisung's biceps as he pounded up into him, knocking the wind out of his lungs.
"Good boy," The praise washed over Seungmin like hot lava, before Jisung was gripping his hips and speeding up. Every time Seungmin caught his breath, another thrust was knocking it out of him, the sensations from Jisung's cock gliding in out of him pushed him deeper and deeper, the world dissolving into nothing more but the sounds moans, skin slapping against skin and the creaking of the bed.
The bedroom door finally pushed open, and in stepped Minho. He stopped, taking in the room, like he hadn't seen it plenty of times before. The carpet soaked with piss and cum, ass covered in red and bruised with handprints that had faint trickles of blood, thighs slapped red and sticky.
Seungmin laying there daze, hungry, fucked out and smiling.
Minho whistles. "Damn, Ji... you've improved." His voice was filled with awe as he stepped closer. "You even managed to crack some skin."
Jisung laughs, hips snapping up faster. "Hurry up, not going to last long."
"Color?" Minho asks, shedding his clothes. He tosses his shirt to the side, pulls down his sweats and boxers, kicking them to the side as well. He crawls onto the bed kneeling behind Seungmin, cock heavy, warm, pulsing in his palms. "Sure you wanna do this?"
Seungmin tried to nod but found himself unable to do so. In response to Minho, he just weakly let out a soft "green" before letting his head slip further into the hollow of Jisung's neck.
"Okay, Jisung spread him open." Minho orders. Jisung sends him a glare but obliges nonetheless, reaching down, grabbing Seungmin's sticky, bloody cheeks and spreading them open, displaying his still leaking gaping hole.
Minho settled between his thighs and slapped the tip of his cock against his stuffed hole, before easing his tip inside and Seungmin pushed back crying out loud as Minho sinked deeper and depper into him. His hole stretched impossibly wide around the thick cocks.
Minho groaned, letting his head fall forward on Seungmin's shoulder as he finally bottomed out, his silver hair covered his eyes, soaked with sweat. Seungmin was trembling, quaking on their cocks, hiccuping as tears spilled past his lashline—through it out his tiny cock twitched agaisnt jisungs stomach, flushed pink glistening with beads of pre-cum.
"Oh—fuck." And something in Jisung's tone makes Seungmin blink through the glossiness in his gaze to somewhat rationality.
"Fuck- wait-" Minho gasps, chest heaving harshly. Wide, round eyes bulging, a high, high-pitched moan leaves his throat. "Wait, don't move— m'really... really, fuck—all the way in."
He was. They both were buried to the hilt in Seungmin's tight hole. Minho was all the way in, pressed firmly against Seungmin's ass and Jisung's thighs.
"Shit," Minho panted. "He's... tighter than before... holy fuck, he's gripping me tightly."
"Lean forward," Jisung moans, planting his feet firmly on the bed, he groans when he shimmies down the bed, hips bumping up into Seungmin's. God, he could die right now between his legs, buried in his hole, he could get sent to hell and still be the happiest man that has ever graced the earth.
It didn't take long for either of them. Seungmin's mouth dropped in a silent cry, when Minho and Jisung begin to move in an opposite rhythm, one at a time, rubbing their cocks against each other aided by all that lube and cum.
Every time Seungmin's eyes would flutter open, they would roll back seconds later, too dazed and filled with pleasure, vision filled with unshed tears. His mouth hung open against Jisung's skin, jaw completely slack with drooling, pooling in between whimpers.
Everything hurt in the sweetest way possible. Seungmin weakly reached back fingers searching, Jisung grabs them, weaving their fingers tightly together, grounding him.
"s'good," Seungmin giggled. "m'full-"
Those words lit a fire in their bellies, they began to destroy his hole. Seungmin wailed pathetically, his cock rubbed against Jisung's stomach spurting out beads and beads of pre-cum.
"Such a good slut," Jisung groaned.
"Shit... feels fucking perfect... doing so good," Minho hissed, voice raw and wrecked. "N-not... god—he's clenching, Shit, I'm close—fuck."
"Don't fucking don't it," Jisung moans so loudly it turns into a primal possessive growl and Minho throws his head back in laughter, but it's laced with a bit of envy. Sad that this time he won't be able to fill Seungmin up, he grabs the base of his cock, tightly and pulls out.
Minho groans in frustration. "Where?" Minho hands glide against his cock in rapid fire pace, slick sounds adding to the wet sound of skin slap against skin, bed spring creaking and headboard banging, Jisung breathy moans and Seungmin whimpers. Fist moving so fast, rapidly, eyes still trained on where Jisung's cock is fucking messily into Seungmin's leaking hole.
"A-anywhere–fuck—but on him—shit. Don't fucking cum on him." The command landed like a belt on skin, "s'mine, god, the sheets, the floor, hell even my—fuck—even my thighs but don't fucking cum in or on him. He's mine."
Seungmin tries to blink in vain, lips parted with strings of spit as he tries to lift his heavy head. He tried to help, tried to offer Minho an option, tried to signal to Minho that he could use his mouth or hand. Seungmin could take it, he could swallow it. Whatever they needed or wanted, he was willing to do it, but his body wouldn't let him. His body was too tired, too wrung out, too full.
Jisung notes that he's pushing Seungmin past his limit; he knows that he's out of it, probably one more orgasm away from passing out.
Jisung was close.
So close.
So close.
So fucking close. He just needed that final thing to tip him over the edge. It was just three words. It was just a small confession, that was barely a whisper, but it detonated Jisung like a ticking time bomb every time he heard it.
Seungmin barely heard the request; he was somewhere else, floating, eyes shut, body ruined. Twitching, soaked, filled, boneless. He didn't even know how he was still conscious at this point, his cock was spent—limp resting in the small puddle he created on Jisung's stomach.
He couldn't think. Couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. All he could do was feel. Feel the stretch of Jisung, feel the warmth emitting from his body, hear the praises and pleas.
"Say it, baby. Tell me what I want to hear."
Seungmin managed against all odds to open his mouth, and everything happened all at once. With just one whisper. With just three words spoken in a soft and wrecked voice. That confession, albeit broken and desperate, ripped Jisung apart from the inside out more than any orgasm ever could.
Jisung's body tensed, eyes snapping shut, his mouth dropping open in a harsh pant before a low, deep, guttural groan shook his whole body, the sound rumbling through Seungmin like thunder. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," he panted, hips slamming up erractically as thick hot ropes of cum spurted inside Seungmin painting his gummy walls white, his body convulsed, arms tigheting around the giggling boy above him. Gritting his teeth, he continued to fuck himself through the harsh waves of pleasure, vision bluring with tears, muscles clenching painful.
Jisung feels like he's the one seconds away from passing out. Like he can't do anything but collide his hips into Seungmin's forcing his cum deeper and deeper, pluging him up with each thrust keeping him filled to the brim. If Seungmin could get pregnant, he would be. Jisung's movements were animalistic and borderline brutal.
Seungmin cried out, his body jostling roughly, fingers twitching against Jisung's biceps as he tried to fight the new waves of pain and pleasure breaking him into pieces before his body locks up—and then he came again.
If you can even call it that.
His tiny limp cock that was sandwiched between them twitched. Jerked pathetically one time before tiny thin drops of cum and pissed dribbled out the slit of his cock adding on to the tiny puddle on Jisung's stomach.
A blink. A shudder. A gasp. And then the world turns black.
His body goes completely slack, limbs turning into liquid onto either side of Jisung as he melts against his chest. Behind them, Minho curses loudly, spilling through his fist, thick creamy ropes of his cum splashing across Seungmin's blood stained ass and Jisung's inner thighs.
"F-fuck, sorry, didn't mean—" Minho didn't get to finish his sentence when his knees wobbled before giving in to exhaustion; he toppled over to the right, barely able to catch himself before hitting the floor with a loud thud.
Jisung ignored that loud thud, ignored his best friend falling off his bed, and almost cracking his skull open on his bedroom floor. None of that mattered to him, not when the only thing he could think of was that final push—that final moment that always leaves him breathless, no matter how many times it happens.
No matter how many times he hears it.
Those three words.
"I love you."
Jisung braced an arm over Seungmin's waist protectively, the other playing with the wet baby hairs on his nape. Just for a moment, the three of them simply lay there in silence, basking in the aftermath. Seungmin sleeps soundly on top of Jisung, body twitching every few seconds like rippling waves in a calm ocean. Their chest pressed together, rising and falling in a steady rhythm, breathing like winds catching flags in the open sea.
Seungmin's face squished against his neck, lips parted in a small O shape, drool dripping from the corner of his lips, lashes fluttering slightly—it takes everything in Jisung not to squeal and just squish Seungmin to death.
He looked too cute for someone so fucked out and filled like a jelly donut.
Minho seemingly passed out on Jisung's carpeted floor or Jisung hopes he's passed out and not dead, and is covered by one of the extra sheets that seemingly fell off the bed. Small puffs of air left his lips as he mumbled something under his breath and rolled over onto his stomach.
Okay. So he's not dead. Good to know.
Jisung carefully shifted, palm cupping the back of Seungmin's head softly, with the little strength that he had, he gently rolled them over to their sides. He grabbed Seungmin's leg, tossing it over his hips, scooting closer, and pressed a kiss to his squished lips, "I love you, too."
When Seungmin blinks his eyes open, he's momentarily blinded by the sunlight shining through the half-drawn bedroom curtain, and for a moment, everything is silent and still as his brain registers where he is. This room definitely isn't his, with clothes and shoes thrown all over the place. The whole Nana manga collection was stacked up in the corner, a guitar leaning against the wall, and random rock band posters plastered on the wall.
This room was too messy to be his, but it was definitely a room he wouldn't mind living in. His body was dull, aching with pain and pleasure that didn't whisper but screamed in the void that he'd gotten what he'd been craving. Between his legs was somewhat clean, albeit the purple and yellow fading bruises and fingerprints aligning his hips, there were still some faint stains of cum that painted his inner thighs bleeding in with the bruises.
His hole throbbed—abused and well-stretched and very much full, Jisung seemed to have cleaned him up on the outside but left him completely dirty on the inside.
Possessive asshole, he thought with a smile. He might just suck Jisung's dick today, it's been awhile since he had been throughly throat fucked.
With that thought in mind, he shifted to the left, hoping to feel the warmth of Jisung's body, but was met with the coldness of one of his pillows pressed against his skin. Seungmin shifted again with a sharp hiss, regretting the movement immediately when a deep, painful ache shot up his lower back, a pressure that reminded him of their devious activities.
With slow, reluctant movements, Seungmin manages to ease himself off the bed, biting back a hiss as his thighs and legs protest his every movement. His knees wobbled way too much, his ass ached and...
Drip.
Seungmin moaned softly when he felt something soft slide out of his hole and down his thighs. Seungmin bends his knees, holding on to the bed for support, spreading his legs, looking down between them. Cum glided down his thighs onto the floor. Of course... he was still filled. Jisung maybe good at fucking but his aftercare was a nine out ten, docking the point for cleanjng inside of him.
The outside of his body was usually wiped clean except for a few, mixed spots of dried cum but the inside... the inside him always remained filled.
Seungmin winced with the small step he tried to take, but failed because his knees gave out when he bent down to grab Minho's boxers and Jisung's hoodie. Accepting his fate of not being able to walk, he slipped the items on before crawling out of the bedroom door and down the hall to the living room.
He could hear the TV playing and see the top of Jisung's head as he tilted it back to laugh at something one of the actors said. Seungmin huffed and slammed his hand down on the floor, signaling his arrival.
"Afternoon, sleeping beauty," Jisung says, tilting his head back over the couch, gummy heart smile on display as he beckons him over to the couch. "Sleep well?"
"Shut up, you left me filled on purpose," He grumbled, crawling around to the front of the couch, making his way in between his legs, sticky and flushed pink.
"There's cum leaking down my thighs."
Jisung's eyebrows raised. "You asked for it," he pats his thighs. "C'mere, let me see."
With an eye roll, Seungmin pulled himself up and over his lap, draping himself across his thighs like a blanket. His chest pressed lightly against his knees, ass raised so Jisung could slide down his boxers.
"Mhm... I think this looks better than the last time. Look so much prettier." He muttered dreamily, gliding his pointer finger tracing over the perfectly shaped handprint. Seungmin swallows, jolting when Jisung adds just the right amount of pressure. "You can paint a whole portrait with the way you bruise."
"... should use a belt next time," Seungmin suggests.
"Should I?" Jisung considers the thought, cocking his head to the side. "I just got that new leather belt from Vivienne Westwood a couple of days ago, it's still in the box. It's pretty and hefty, so I think it might leave some pretty lines, but it might crack your skin a bit faster than using my hand. I know you like when I draw out the pain... but then again, you might break faster with the belt."
"You sound obsessed."
Jisung chuckles, adjusting Seungmin on his thighs so he can reach forward and grab the packet of wipes and aloe.
"With you? Hell yeah," his words genuine as he tosses the things next to him. "And with how much of a pain slut you are," Jisung drags his nail, gently over the marks just to hear Seungmin squeal before popping open the wipes.
"You came what... four times before I stepped into the room? Came again with my feet pressed against your face. Took both of us and came again, then you passed out giggling like the most happiest person on the planet. Who does that?"
"Someone who has a brained filled with cotton candy, a million different was to get used and fucked." He whined with a wiggle of his hips when Jisung placed the wipe on his ass. "That's cold."
"Yeah, yeah." Jisung rolled his eyes. "Hold yourself open."
"What?" Seungmin looks over his shoulder but moans loudly when excruciating pains stab at his lower back. "Fuck,"
"Brat, just reach behind you and pull yourself open." Seungmin swallows back another moan bubbling up in his throat as he faces forward, reaches behind, and spreads himself open.
"It hurts."
"You like it," Jisung laughed softly, dragging the wipe across his skin, cleaning off his thighs, in between his cheeks, and he tried to be as gentle as he could when cleaning off his hole.
"Fucking masochist," he teases playfully.
"And you're a sadist, you hit me until my skin split." he lifts his head to glare at him weakly. "Also, you just suggested we should use a belt next time.
"One, you asked for it. Two, you planned for it. Three, you begged for it. Four, you came from it, and lastly, I didn't suggest the belt you did. I just agreed with your suggestion."
"I refuse to have you spew gross slander across my name. Plus, you laughed when I cried."
"You moaned," Jisung replied, staring down at him in amusement. The silence stretched between them for a while, like tumbleweed passing through the desert, before they both broke into a fit of laughter—it was soft, airy, intimate, and drowsy.
Jisung bent down and brushed his lips against his skin, right over the shape of his handprint. "We probably shouldn't be so loud or Minho's going to wake up."
"Too late," A voice groans from behind them as Minho shuffled out of the hallway with a limp. Minho stood their hair all over the place, naked except for a pair of boxers and sweats, looking like a grumpy cat as he rubbed the crust from his eyes.
"Why the fuck are you two already up, it's one in the afternoon." He rounds the couch, gathers Seungmin's legs to plop down, and tosses them over his thighs. Minho yawned, grabbing the throw blanket and wrapping it around his shoulders.
Jisung laughs heartedly popping open the bottle of aloe and squirting it on Seungmin's ass. The aloe was worse than the wipe—it was cool and stinging on pulsing marks, some of which had a little bit of blood forming at the surface.
"Precisely," Jisung responds, smoothing the gel over the marks gently, taking his time and rubbing it in. "It's one in the afternoon, you slept most of the night on my floor."
Minho rolled his eyes, grabbing the bottle and squirting a bit more aloe on Seungmin. "It's tiring being used as a second cock, y'know."
Seungmin kicked his feet. "Jealous you didn't fuck me first?'
"Jealous, you didn't get to feel my dick after being used as a step stool." he retorted.
"Oh, please," Seungmin mumbled, into Jisung's thighs, he lifts his hips so he could slide his boxers back up. "It would have been pointless to feel it when you barely lasted five minutes."
"I lasted longer than you and Jisung," Minho snapped.
"Y-you came on me," Seungmin exclaimed. "Like some caveman."
"You like it." Minho dismissively says. "Also, you're the little spoon."
"I was filled with cotton candy and cum."
"Doesn't negate the fact you liked it."
Jisung sighs, scratching at his cheek. "Alright, get up and go get your hate-post sex cuddles."
"I swear," he muttered, pushing himself up. "I'm going to murder him in his sleep."
"You say that every day, and here I am, still—" Minho gets cut off when Seungmin pounces into his lap in one single fluid motion, as fluid as one can get when he feels numb from the waist down.
He crawled, climbed, and shifted until Minho was leaning with his back against the armrest, and he flopped across his chest like a sack of potatoes.
"Fuck," Minho wheezes when Seungmin jabs him in the stomach.
"Shhh, hate-post sex cuddling." He whispered, burning his face into Minho's chest, tangling their legs together. "Don't ruin this for me you damn cat."
"Fuck you, damn dog." despite his crude words Minho slung and arm loosely around Seungmin's waist pulling him closer.
"You already did. Multiple times."
"Five minutes, I don't want your stretch rubbing off on me. I'm clean."
Seungmin snorted. "If by clean you meant you sprayed the cool breeze Febreeze on your skin? Then yes, you're clean."
Jisung watched the interaction completely amused, used to the two bickering and arguing for no absolute reason. "Food?" he asks, standing with a stretch. "You need something in your system before you fall asleep."
Jisung was halfway to the kitchen before Seungmin or Minho got the chance to make a single sound.
"Chocl—"
"Chocolate cinnamon toast crunch, with a lot of milk."
"I wan—"
"Almond oatmeal and a cut-up banana. I know, I know."
"So why ask?" Minho grumbled, running his fingers through Seungmin's hair.
"Courtesy," Jisung opened up the cupboards, grabbing the things he needed. He moved around the kitchen quietly, cooking Minho's oatmeal first, cutting up two bananas, and then making Seungmin's cereal with extra milk. Somewhere in the background, he could hear the arguing about something, Minho muttering dog-brained masochist, and a couple of seconds later, Seungmin snapping at Minho about favoritism. Jisung just leaned against the counter, sipping on his orange juice.
Honestly, he couldn't have asked for a better morning.