Freak Show Talk | 3racha, Lmh

Freak Show Talk | 3racha, lmh

𝙭𝙭𝙫𝙞. 𝙞 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙜𝙤𝙩 𝙙𝙖𝙙𝙙𝙮 𝙞𝙨𝙨𝙪𝙚𝙨

! fwb, free use ft. all, fujoshi fem reader, poly, enm, angst, smut, dead dove do not eat. <1k wc. 18+ readers only !

「Contents List」 「Act 1」  「© Dec 2023 by jl-micasea-fics」

Hours later, and the afternoon is warm. Changbin still hasn’t called.

With the windows thrown open to allow for sun-baked air, you undertook household chores that you’re just about finishing when Minho returns. He’s hardly through the door before he’s stripping out of his sweaty dance clothes, grumbling of being too hot, his skin a luxurious gold against the whitewash of the apartment. As his vest hits the hardwood you tell him:

“I called Changbin today.”

He stops. “And?”

You shrug, unashamedly eye-fucking the soft wave of his abs. “It was weird. He was weird.”

Minho nods, hums.

“What, you’ve got nothing to say about that?” you scoff.

“Not really. He’s being weird, so what?”

“Okay.” You prop the hoover against the wall. “Now he’s not the only one being weird. What’s going on?”

“What?”

“Something is. I can feel it. Tell me.”

“Baby, there’s nothing—”

“Am I going to have to make this an argument?”

He sighs, throws himself to the sunlight-streaked loveseat, his sweat-traced body stretched out and lean. Beyond beautiful. Beyond real. God.

“Things aren’t great with those guys,” he says.

“Meaning?”

“I guess... Chan found out about you and Bin.”

And like a bolt of lightning to the dome, all thoughts of Chan roll out from under the nailed down rug. Last time you spoke he threatened to sue you. Called you a... sasaeng? Or something? He hates you. No wonder Changbin’s off the grid. He’s been pushed from it.

“You’ve done nothing wrong,” Minho quickly adds. “It’s just like it was before; they don’t communicate. I feel for Jisungie and Bin. It must be maddening to have Chan say one thing and act another way.”

Maddening? Or relatable?

You shake your head. “No. I don’t think that’s right. It’s two against one.”

Minho rakes silky strands from his sculpted face. “What?”

“Jisung and Bin want to see other people. Can you imagine the pressure that must put on Chan? Even if he’d wanted to there was no way he could have said no to them. He’d do anything for them.”

He said so himself.

Minho frowns. “Are you empathising with him right now? After what he said to you?”

“He said those things because he was hurt, Min. We hurt him. We rocked up to his show and were cosying up to his boyfriends. God, and then I called him trying to make him feel better. What was I thinking?”

“Hold on,” Minho rises from the loveseat, a hand held up as he lifts a finger. “Firstly, we were explicitly invited to that show.” He lifts another finger. “Secondly, his ego being hurt does not excuse the way he spoke to you or what he called you.” And another joins them. “Thirdly: he agreed to his boyfriends sleeping around. It's nobody’s fault but his own that he can’t make peace with that. If he’s hurting as much as you seem to believe he is, the solution is simple: he needs to open his fucking mouth and use his words.”

“Are you getting aggy with me?”

Kind of love it.

Minho’s hand falls. “No. I’m just concerned that you’re bending over backwards to validate a man that doesn't deserve it.”

“Min, he’s not a criminal.”

“Just a rude, entitled asshole.”

“What does that make us, then? Two sluts sneaking around?”

“Speak for yourself, sweetheart.”

You roll your eyes. “I’m just saying, if I were in his shoes, I wouldn’t be so welcoming either.”

“Alright. I’m done.”

He storms past you, fishing his shirt from the floor. Far from done with him, however, you follow him to the bedroom.

“You’re walking away from me now?”

“I can’t listen to you defend someone you barely know.” He waves you off. “It’s ridiculous.”

“There’s nothing ridiculous about trying to make sense of something we’re both involved in.”

He opens the wardrobe. “I’m not involved. I teach them how to dance, and that’s it.”

“No? So Jisung didn’t have your dick in his mouth at Rapture?”

“Seriously?” He shoves the wardrobe door closed, a clean shirt in hand. It rattles painfully. “You’re throwing that at me? Super mature, darling.”

You hadn’t meant for it to come out accusatory. On the contrary, you only wish you’d been there in time to bear witness. You don’t hold it against him; couldn’t ever hold it against him.

“Min—”

“Seeing as we’re in the business of making assumptions, I’ll take my shot.” He pulls the shirt on roughly. “The only reason you’re trying to violently relate to Chan is because you feel guilty about fucking his boyfriend.”

𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚, 𝙧𝙚𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙜, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙨 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙢𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 ♡ 𝙨𝙪𝙥𝙥𝙤𝙧𝙩 𝙢𝙚 𝙤𝙣 𝙠𝙤-𝙛𝙞 ♡

< 𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙫𝙞𝙤𝙪𝙨 | 𝙣𝙚𝙭𝙩 >

Freak Show Talk | 3racha, lmh

𝙭𝙭𝙫. 𝙞 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙝𝙤𝙬 𝙢𝙪𝙘𝙝 𝙞𝙩 𝙢𝙖𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙨 𝙩𝙤 𝙮𝙤𝙪

! fwb, free use ft. all, fujoshi fem reader, poly, enm, angst, smut, dead dove do not eat. <1k wc. 18+ readers only !

「Contents List」 「Act 1」  「© Dec 2023 by jl-micasea-fics」

A fortnight passes with an absence of 3racha.

It’d be like they never existed if not for the void in your gut. If not for the glittering streaks they've left in your sky like the fiery meteors they are. Were.

Nothing feels quite like it used to; like you hit the peak of what life could ever possibly amount to when you met them, and from there it’s all downhill. A plunge to dismal acceptance. You won’t go kicking and screaming. What would be the point? If anything you suppose you should be awash with gratitude; you experienced something so insane no-one would believe you if you told them. Met your idols. Fucked one of them. Butted heads with another. So blessed you are to have had Chan curse at you. The little black box clutches that one like a prized hog.

And all of that is without even considering the developments with your best friend, roommate and long-term chronic crush. He’s the only thing that makes all this bearable— wrapping around him soothes in ways he surely doesn’t intend, but you’ll cling to him just the same. Helps that his appetite is voracious. Not a spare second goes unfilled with his attention, and you’re rather accustomed to the intricate windings of the ceiling Artex now. Could trace them by heart with eyes closed. Indeed; intimacy is the easy part. Not so easy is accepting that he wants you. That it wasn’t a one-off. Wasn’t an accident. You, with all your rotten secrets and heinous inclinations. You, so adept at faking being normal. Lest you ever forget it’s not you that he likes, the little black box ever dutiful reminds you. He likes who you pretend to be, darling. Who you’ve been pretending to be since you met. Who you wish you were— a girl that can see beautiful men together without imagining how their dicks fit inside one another, how their lips lock, how their bodies move, how their lustful groans harmonise. So shameful a habit, but one forged from the toughest steel. A joke to even imagine breaking it.

It’s in the quiet moments that you think of the trio, when little else occupies. Still contracted as their choreographer, Minho dodges your questions when you ask about them, and it’s unlike him to be so cagey. You text Changbin every other day, but his responses are horridly polite. Like you’re not the girl he fucked in his parents’ record store two weeks prior. Like you’re not the girl he made come on his tongue or the girl he called beautiful or the girl whose greedy cunt he praised for being just that. Now you’re the girl on the other end of the phone that gets a yellow thumbs-up emoji, and that’s if she’s lucky.

So, yes. Something’s wrong; all of it’s wrong. You don’t know how to fix it. If you even should. They’re meteors, after all. Rare and dangerous; not to be chased for fear of cataclysmic consequence. You should just move on. Be grateful and move on.

Finishing an early shift at the coffee shop leaves you much of the day to play with. In relative high spirits following the successful avoidance of Supervisor Jin, now seems as good a time as any to bring on the fiery apocalypse. What have you to lose?

The sun is warm on your back as you walk. A dial tone rings steadily in your ear.

“Yo, what’s up?”

“Hi, Bin.”

There’s rustling from the other end, the sound of a door closing.

“Hi,” he whispers.

A cool reception. Okay.

“Are you— Is everything alright?”

“Fine, why?”

“We haven’t talked in two weeks.”

“What?” He laughs. Nervous. Off-brand. “We text.”

“Really?”

“Yeah?”

“You call that texting? One word responses and emojis?”

“I mean; yeah. What do you call it?”

“Alright. Forget it, I shouldn’t have called.”

And then he says your name. “Wait. Just— I’m sorry. I can’t really talk right now. I’m at the studio. Can I call you when we’re done?”

“Yeah. Fine.”

“Cool. Alright. Later, then?” And at the last second: “Miss you.”

Something’s wrong.

All of it’s wrong.

𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚, 𝙧𝙚𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙜, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙨 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙢𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 ♡ 𝙨𝙪𝙥𝙥𝙤𝙧𝙩 𝙢𝙚 𝙤𝙣 𝙠𝙤-𝙛𝙞 ♡

< 𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙫𝙞𝙤𝙪𝙨 | 𝙣𝙚𝙭𝙩 >

Freak Show Talk | 3racha, lmh

𝙭𝙭𝙞𝙫. 𝙣𝙤𝙗𝙤𝙙𝙮 𝙙𝙤𝙚𝙨 𝙞𝙩 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙙𝙤

! fwb, free use ft. all, fujoshi fem reader, poly, enm, angst, smut, dead dove do not eat. <1k wc. 18+ readers only !

「Contents List」 「Act 1」  「© Dec 2023 by jl-micasea-fics」

“I want to hear it,” Minho urges.

Your heart is so loud your vision trembles. You can hardly breathe. This can’t be real. He can’t be asking for the shameful, sordid details of such a private thing. It’s all locked in the little black box and to unlock it is to risk so much, but he asked, and so—

“He, um...” You glance at him; he listens intently. “He went down on me.”

Minho’s eyes drift down your body. “He made you come? On his tongue?”

A wanton shudder claims you; you nod softly. He licks his lips.

“Did he tell you how good you taste?”

“God, Min—”

“Did he?”

“He told me I... was pretty. Beautiful.”

Minho smiles. Like you’re discussing the weather. “What else?” His hand lingers at your upper thigh, the curve of his little finger settled shy of your groin. The tease has you throbbing; as does the topic of conversation, as does the man, as does everything in near vicinity with how tightly you’re wound.

“I— After he made me—” You try to slow your breathing. “He asked if I could stand.”

Minho quirks a brow.

“Then he... bent me over the counter.”

He draws his plush bottom lip between his teeth, indenting the flesh. “That how he fucked you?”

“Mhm.”

“Over the counter like an animal?”

“Yes.”

“Fuck.”

The hand at your thigh glides up and closes over your core, cupping gently. He crowds you with a lean, catches your gasp with a kiss, so passionate an invasion it might tear the skin. When he breaks, he speaks against your lips: “Did he blow your back out the way you wanted, baby?”

The heel of his palm grinds down and against you. You groan into a breathless, “Y— Yeah.”

“Tell me how good his dick felt.” He nips at your jaw. “Tell me how big he was.”

“God, I— He felt so— He was so big, Min. I never wanted it to stop.”

Minho keens, curses as he loses what remains of composure. He rises and drags you with him, makes hasty work stripping you, lips never too far removed. Whispers of wanting fan the flames as Minho gets naked, and when returned to the sofa you’re urged to straddle his lap, the promise of relief so close with him hard beneath you.

He runs his hands down your body, smothers your navel and chest with left-handed attention as the right drops to your wetness. “He’s still all over you.” He presses his nose to the hollow of your throat. “Can smell him.”

Fuck. He likes it. The suggestion of another man on your skin. He throbs to it.

“Can you take me as well as you took him, darling?”

“I can. Want you, Min—”

He draws a lazy smirk. “You have me,” he promises, and the slow intake of his girth sets upon you, your body drawn tight to accept him. When flush in the cradle of his lap, accustomed to the sensation of a God so snug inside you, he kisses you tenderly, a pant on his lips.

“Oh, fuck. You’re so—”

You kiss him with heat; words just won’t fucking cut it. You're both sensible to it anyway; the trust, the desire and wanting. This is the first time, and yet you’re so attuned you could be decade-long lovers. A slow rhythm is set in your gliding over him, every inch he offers felt so abundantly he trembles in restraint. He keeps you close, your hips and groin grinding you ever closer to crisis. Smothers your skin in open-mouthed affection, kisses your breasts and laves tongue over nipple when you arch to allow him indulgence. Soft hands canvas your spine and drop to the swell of your ass, appreciative squeezes felt as he throbs inside you.

It’s a different sort of sex to that experienced with Changbin; whereas the prior was swollen with carnal need to satisfy animalistic urges, this affair is altogether softer. Minho adores and with dark eyes wide open maps to memory the way your body moves on him, with ears pricked plays back the way his name sounds falling from your abused lips.

“Baby—”

You settle low, ride him deep, shudder with the delicious stimulation. Clutch his heated cheeks with both hands and kiss him.

“Can I...” His thought is broken by a moan. “Fuck— Can I come inside you?”

“You want to?”

He nods, eyes glassy. “Want to be the only one who does.” He takes your hands from his cheeks, holds them to his chest. “Did Changbin...?”

“No. No, he didn’t.”

He nods, and with control passed off and allowing him to set a pace of fucking such that your broken groans are mere seconds apart, he chases what he seeks. Tensed and muscled with honey skin iridescent, the sofa creaks with his rhythm, the grip on your hips sure to bruise. Gaze of delirium flicks between your face and where he watches his length disappear with a slickness of ease that worsens when you come; Minho snaps firm and holds, pants through your tightening with burnt complexion, runnels of sweat gathering in the dips of his throat and chest. In collapsing over him Minho attaches to your skin, thrusts once, twice, a third and fourth time before the fifth yields brutality.

When he comes, he does so with fervent strength. You feel every second of it, his request made good upon.

Some minutes pass before harmony restores, and though he retracts gently, your physical state is far from capable; you’re lifted from the sofa to his room, where he deposits you on the bed with promise of returning in a moment. The distance of running water is a comfort soon realised when he bathes with you.

In the small hours of the morning when sleep is broken by the shriek of a passing ambulance, Minho whispers through the dark: “I’m yours.”

Was always yours.

𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚, 𝙧𝙚𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙜, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙨 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙢𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 ♡ 𝙨𝙪𝙥𝙥𝙤𝙧𝙩 𝙢𝙚 𝙤𝙣 𝙠𝙤-𝙛𝙞 ♡

< 𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙫𝙞𝙤𝙪𝙨 | 𝙣𝙚𝙭𝙩 >

Freak Show Talk | 3racha, lmh

𝙭𝙭𝙭𝙞. 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙜𝙚𝙩 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙮, 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙜𝙚𝙩 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙙𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙚𝙙 𝙪𝙥

! fwb, free use ft. all, fujoshi fem reader, poly, enm, angst, smut, dead dove do not eat. <1k wc. 18+ readers only !

「Contents List」 「Act 1」  「© Dec 2023 by jl-micasea-fics」

Leather sticks to your back. Clammy. Unforgiving. The discomfort wakes you.

As you rouse to consciousness, a pleasant soreness of utter satisfaction blooms between your thighs and in your muscles. It brings a slow smile. You stretch out with ease, joints popping and cracking.

Huh. You can stretch out with ease.

Propping yourself up on elbows, you blink away the gum in your eyes. Changbin is nowhere to be found.

There is, however, another.

“Looking for someone?”

In the dim studio light, a glare of harsh red confuses until features—unsettlingly serene—sharpen with clarity. Your heart stops— something stops.

Oh, fuck.

“W— What are you... Where’s Changbin? Why—”

Chan cocks his head. “He stepped out. Getting coffee, probably, right in time for you to wake up to. He’s sweet like that.”

He rakes a lazy gaze over your entirely naked form from the chair he’s sitting on, the disdain in his eyes so clear it ventures on borderline disgust. Shouldn’t make you so giddy. Shouldn’t make you want to spread your legs and extend invitation. You should be screaming and covering up. He hates you.

“How did you...”

“How did I know he was here?” He scoffs. “The man I’ve spent every day with for ten years? How did I know where he’d disappear to when he wanted to hide something from me?”

“Listen, I—”

“Oh, I'm not interested in, like, anything you have to say,” he says. “I’m here for Bin.”

“And I’m here with Bin,” you snap. “By actual invitation.”

Chan’s composure slips into a cold glare. “Are you suggesting I'm not wanted here? In my own boyfriends’ studio?”

“Of course not.” You try to reign it in, the potential for disaster sticking at the back of your throat. It’d only take one word for this to blow. “I just think that if he was actually trying to hide this from you, he’d have taken me somewhere else. We didn’t even plan on this.” You gesture to yourself as exhibit A. “It just happened.”

“Right. Sure it did. Like you haven’t been texting him every day for two weeks begging for this.”

“Begging?”

“Desperation stinks, honey.”

“So does jealousy.”

He stares, runs his tongue over his perfect teeth. Wolfish. Sends a shiver down your spine. “You know,” he says, folds his arms. His leather jacket tightens. “I can’t fathom what it is that Changbin sees in you.”

Your skin prickles, nerves surging as though bracing themselves for the incoming onslaught.

“Jisungie and Minho, I understand. I get it. Minho is beautiful, talented. He has so much going for him, even I was taken with him when we first met.” He purses his lips, unfolds his arms and gestures to you. “But you? You’re just—”

You rise from the sofa and quickly tug Changbin’s discarded hoodie on, the garment falling to your upper thigh.

“You’re like night and day,” Chan continues. “Total opposites. I mean; you work in a coffee shop, right? No prospects other than that? At your age?”

You glance around for your phone. Can’t find it.

“How did you and Minho even meet? He couldn’t have found someone more interesting to live with? Or fuck?” He leans forward, an attempt to catch your attention. “Because you two are also fucking right? But you’re not, like, together. It’s not real. Can’t say I'm shocked he didn’t want to commit. It’s the only thing about this that makes sense—”

And blind rage guides your hand when you turn towards him and swing a sharp slap across his cheek, the painful smack ringing out across the studio.

Chan seizes and grips his face, vivid colour blooming on the pale, flawless skin. Your palm stings, and it feels fucking awesome. Eases the bitter pain in your chest. Cools the lust that simmers beneath your hatred, for that should be all you’re feeling— hatred. Pure contempt. Revulsion and rage towards the man that so belittles you. Yet the little black box sheepishly lifts it lid, trembling with arousal at the heinous appeals of his degradation. It whispers the joys of being on your knees at Chan’s mercy, of taking from him whatever he might be good enough to give, because you are as appalling as he claims— a dirty, desperate fuck toy that would give her left arm just for a lick of the obscene parts of him.

You slam the lid of the black box down and spit it at. Enough is enough.

It’s high time you stood tall and recognised that the man you admired as a genius of production, a musical prodigy, a deity among men, ‘CB97’—all that you loved of him from afar and still do up close—is in reality, a giant asshole.

fst marathon event~ next chapter in 24 hrs. drop a reblog and comment, show your support and i'll keep the content coming x

𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚, 𝙧𝙚𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙜, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙨 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙢𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 ♡ 𝙨𝙪𝙥𝙥𝙤𝙧𝙩 𝙢𝙚 𝙤𝙣 𝙠𝙤-𝙛𝙞 ♡

< 𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙫𝙞𝙤𝙪𝙨 | 𝙣𝙚𝙭𝙩 >

↬you accidentally send a nude to another member.

pairing: ot8 x reader

genre: humor (if you find me funny lol)

a/n: helloo, it's been a while and i missed writing these silly lil reactions. i used this prompt for another fandom years ago and while i was looking for something to write i was like YOU KNOW WHAT it'd be so much fun to write skz's reaction to this lol. i hope you guys enjoy and if you do please let me know! (also i want you all to picture han's scream in get lit for his slide bye)

i'm on the floor. i'm dying. screaming. crying. this was so good? the fuck? 🤌

ᴄʀᴀᴢʏ ꜰᴏʀᴍ | ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏɴᴇ

pairing: dilf! san x boytoy! wooyoung x fem! reader

genre: smut <3

summary: you search for a rebound at your local club after a break up. the club owner and his favorite boyfriend are there to satisfy your needs.

w.c: 3.3k

warnings: daddy dom kinda switch! san (almost chewed my fingers off writing him like this trust), dom! wooyoung (he’s kinda passively there when it comes to reader but i promise he’ll be more prominent in part two~), subby good girl! reader, woosan, alcohol use, reader is not drunk but sufficiently tipsy, daddy kink, dirty talk, pet names (angel, princess, pretty girl, etc), teasing, possessiveness, praise, voyeurism/exhibitionism, body worship, grinding, kissing, marking, fingering, double? blowjob? idk (san gets head while giving it too oop-) , deep-throating, slight hair pulling, snowballing

a/n: hii guess who’s back from the dead just in time for the cb? <3 and i brought a present ~ a naughty one hehe :3 the inspo came from those pics above bc they look so expensive and cunty and so yummy ugh and THEN san decided to strip at the mama awards and now i’m ILL and ready to howl at the moon anyways !!this is out of pocket like usual and i put my whole kitty into it okayyy so i hope you enjoy and pls lemme know if you’re excited for part two >< <33

song rec: incubator by ph-1, gun by doja cat, wine pon you also by doja cat feat. konshens (every time i hear the last part it reminds me of san’s dance cover hnnnnhgg)

“Girl, you better slow down on that drink,” the woman sitting beside you at the bar warned, resting her forearms down on the cool surface of the sleek marble countertop, continuing to watch you slurp down a long island iced tea. “I’m not about to hold your hair up for you later.”

“Can you leave me alone? I’m grieving over here, god,” you whined to her with your straw still in between your pouting, quivering lips, your eyes brimming with tears. “And for the record, he broke up with me over text. Text.”

She shook her head. “You are not about to cry over a man right now.”

You pushed your empty glass away, before dramatically pointing a finger into your chest, causing the strap of your dress to droop down your shoulder a bit. “You’re right, but I can still be a mess if I want to, thank you very much.”

“Well, you’re certainly achieving that,” she stated, idly sipping on her own drink, looking you up and down until you felt like you had to prove something to her.

“Okay, fuck this,” you muttered, pushing yourself off of the barstool and pulling your dress down where it was beginning to rise up near your ass, sniffling a bit.

“Where are you going?”

Pulling out a small tube from the v-neck of your dress to apply a fresh coat of lip gloss, you smacked your lips together and motioned your hand to the vast amounts of sweaty, drunk people grinding on each other on the opposite side of the club. “I’m gonna get some rebound dick. Don’t wait up.”

The woman smiled to herself as she watched you disappear into the sea of people, still just sipping on her drink. Little did you know, someone else was already waiting for you in that crowd. And they came as a package deal.

-

“I want her, Sannie,” Wooyoung chimed to the older man that was sitting beside him on the comfy VIP couch, the man’s arm wrapped protectively around his waist. The younger man took a finger off of his fruity drink to point at the woman that was feeling herself up with her body pressed to an unnamed man on the dance floor across from them, charmed by the unbothered, almost melancholic expression imprinted on her flushed face, like she was just waiting for someone like them to take care of her, to make her pretty face flush for a different reason.

San followed Wooyoung’s manicured nail until it led to the sight of you, a few wrinkles etched into his skin near his lips and where his eyes creased with amusement. “Mmm. Shall I leave you to your own devices then? Daddy can watch you seduce that pretty girl from here, can’t he?” His smile deepened when Wooyoung shifted beside him, his thigh pressing into San’s larger one, knowing his plaything was already getting hot under the collar. San held Wooyoung’s chin between his ringed fingers, leaning in to murmur, “And you’ll be a good boy and bring her to me once you get her nice and wet, won’t you?”

“Yes, Daddy,” Wooyoung replied breathily, barely getting his words out when the man pulled him in for a heated kiss.

Just when Wooyoung began to lean into him, his hands resting on San’s leather-bound chest, the older man broke the kiss, wiping the other’s saliva from his mouth. “Get going, naughty boy.”

Despite being dizzy with need, Wooyoung nodded, obediently nodding as he stood up from the couch. He fixed his hair and checked his makeup, before heading into the sea of sweaty, lust-drunk people to find you.

You were almost too busy rolling your body along to the hypnotic flow of the house track that was bumping through the speakers around you to notice the warmth of someone else pulling you near him, his hand sliding onto the small of your back and his lips against your ear, goosebumps forming across your skin.

“Can I steal you away?” Wooyoung whispered in a low voice, smiling at your slow nod, your eyes practically dilating at the sight of him. You didn’t know angels frequented night clubs. That was news to you. The both of you silently watched as his veiny hands slowly slid onto your hips, his fingers squeezing into them just enough to make you shiver.

He brought you back against him with a gentleness that made you a little weak in the knees, moving his hips against yours, guiding you against his body to the pulsing beats of the song.

Desperate to be needed by the obscenely attractive stranger, you took it upon yourself to grind back against him, feeling his cock harden against your ass through his satin pants.

“Fuck, baby, don’t you know what’ll happen if you keep doing that?” he exhaled into your ear, his fingers moving down slightly to squeeze your thighs.

You turned your head back to meet his searing gaze, licking your lips, your eyelids lowering. “What’s going to happen?”

Glancing to the side to make sure San was still watching, which he was, with a hand clutching his upper thigh, Wooyoung looked back to you, his hands moving further outwards to feel the sides of your ass, encouraging your dress to move up little by little, replying, “We’ll have to play with you, angel.”

“Yes, please,” you breathed out, resting your head against his chest, allowing him to feel up your body, his hands groping along your abdomen to your tits, the cogs inside your head moving at a slower rate than usual. “Wait…did you just say…we’ll?” Just as you spoke, Wooyoung reached around to grasp your chin and guide it to the side, allowing you to spot the fiery-headed gentleman manspreading on the VIP couch across from you, his heated gaze alone making you throb. “Isn’t…that the guy who owns this place?”

“Mm, he owns a lot of things. You see, darling, even though I want you all to myself–” Wooyoung squeezed his hands around your barely clothed tits through your dress, making you moan. “San doesn’t like it when I don’t share with him.” His hands slowly moved down your front to your clothed cunt, feeling your wetness coat his fingers when he rubbed them against your clothed slit. All you could focus on was the way San shifted around on the couch, his hands gripping his thighs like his body was aching to be free from his tight ensemble, Wooyoung’s upcoming offer barely getting processed in your hazy brain. “Do you wanna meet him?”

One single nod was all it took for Wooyoung to take your hand with a knowing smile on his pretty face, like he could already tell what was about to go down that night, before guiding you past the crowd, the bouncers, and directly up to San, who was eagerly waiting your arrival.

As soon as you stepped foot into the exclusive lounge, the visual of the older man had your already weak knees ready to buckle underneath you now that you could see him up close. He was dressed head to toe in sleek, expensive leather. The top only had two buttons to support his front, his broad chest on full display for you to drool over. Your eyes eventually followed upwards until you got to his obscenely handsome face, his sharp, feline-like features bathed in the club’s sinful red lighting. Then, of course, the nail in the coffin was the dimpled smile he offered you, one that was so inviting that you didn’t realize you were being drawn to him like a moth to a burning flame.

“That’s right, go ahead and get nice and comfortable on my lap, sweetheart,” his words, sweet like honey, melted off his tongue in a low drawl, his limbs wrapping around you as soon as you sat down on his lap, resting one hand comfortably on your thigh, his other reaching up to play with your hair. “What brought you here tonight? To my pretty boy? To me?”

You gently hooked an arm around his neck to keep yourself upright, gazing at Wooyoung who sat beside you both on the couch, his fingers rubbing gentle circles around one of your ankles, before turning your head to look at the older man, trying to keep bad memories from flooding your brain.

San gently twirled your hair around his finger, urging in a deep, comforting voice, “Let it out. Don’t be afraid, princess.”

Your brain offered you a pleasant fuzziness instead. “I…had a bad breakup…I just really wanted to come here, get my back blown out, and forget about it all, you know?”

Wooyoung stifled a cackle, while San’s lower lip jutted out in a pout, his hand splaying across your upper thigh, slowly rubbing it up and down. “Poor angel. I bet he never made you feel needed, huh?” You mirrored his pout, shaking your head. “I can make you feel needed, baby. Do you want that?” A nod this time, your breath caught in your throat. San leaned in, pressing his lips to your warm cheek, murmuring, “Then, let Daddy take care of you, alright?”

And just like that, there were no rules anymore. No regulations. No holding back. Just you, two strangers, and a club full of people that couldn’t care less about what you were doing. San still held you in his lap, your trembling legs just barely spread open enough to allow his hand in between them, rubbing his thick digits against your cunt through your soaked panties, while Wooyoung had a front row seat. “Is it good for you, baby? Or do you want more?”

“More,” you exhaled, about to say something when San squeezed your clit roughly, making you gasp.

“More, what, princess?” San leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, whispering against them, “What’s my name?”

“More, Daddy,” you corrected yourself, just as San’s ringed fingers moved past your panties and slipped right inside you up to the knuckle, filling you up just enough to make your brain go fuzzy.

Wooyoung moaned just when you did, biting his lip at the sight of San’s veins popping out when he began to pump his fingers in and out of your squelching hole. “Fuck, that’s so hot…she’s so wet, Daddy…”

“She is, isn’t she?” San agreed, curling his fingers inside you until he hit the spot that made you drool, his lips suddenly latching onto your neck to leave his mark behind on your skin so you could remember exactly what you did when you woke up the next morning. “Look at you, taking my fingers in your tight little cunt like this. Such a good girl.”

“Uh-huh,” you could barely verbalize, whining at his words, clenching around his digits. You could barely focus on anything else except for the older man’s thick fingers stretching you out, his rings offering you a pleasure you didn’t realize you needed in your life, though Wooyoung’s warm hands on your thighs and gentle smile kept you from getting too lost in the moment.

However, San was in the same boat as you, his trapped, throbbing cock already leaking so much pre-cum that he was about to lose it, encouraging him to suggest, “Mm, but you need Daddy’s cock, don’t you?” He watched you give him a weak nod, knowing you were on the edge of orgasming from the way your body began to lock up. “I should just fuck you dumb right here for everyone to see. Have you make a big mess on this couch. It’s my club, after all. Why shouldn’t I do what I want?” He sped up the pace, practically pounding his fingers into your cunt, your arousal leaking down your shaking thighs, continuing to dispel filthy words for only you and his boytoy to hear. “Fuck, they’ll enjoy seeing a pretty thing like you fall apart on my lap, won’t they? See this cunt of yours stretch around my cock and take my cum inside. Mmm. See the way I make you mine.”

Everything was too much. The crowded room. The possibility of someone’s eyes on you. San’s filthy words. His fingers jammed inside your soaked cunt. Wooyoung’s unwavering gaze, his hands squeezing into your thighs. The unrelenting pleasure coursing through your body. You ended up cumming so hard, you saw stars, not even realizing San was silencing your pleasured cries until you felt his lips on yours and his tongue push into your open mouth. Just as San pulled away, Wooyoung took his place, tasting the alcohol on your tongue, before gently tugging on your bottom lip with his teeth.

“Should we go to your office now, Sannie?” Wooyoung asked the older man, his hooded eyes flitting between San’s and yours, neither of you even having to speak another word before you all got up from the couch.

-

“Whoa,” you murmured to yourself, looking around the expansive room, the interior matching the rest of the sleek club. Aside from the small computer desk setup in the corner, there was a large bed with satin sheets that took up a good portion of the room, but most of your attention was on the mirrors that were perfectly positioned on either side of the bed, as well as the ceiling. “Mirrors?”

“Sannie likes to watch himself,” Wooyoung giggled, rubbing the small of your back in comforting circles, leading you to the bed alongside San who sat down on the edge of it, looking up to you and Wooyoung who stood behind you, running his hands along your sides up to your shoulders, before taking hold of the zipper of your dress.

“I like to watch pretty angels like you come undone too. Watch the lust take over you until you’re covered in sweat and cum,” San mused, gazing into your eyes until Wooyoung slowly pulled the straps of your dress down, the both of them watching it fall from your body. Groaning, San began to mirror Wooyoung’s actions, unbuttoning his blazer, then pulling it off and revealing an expanse of smooth tan skin, the muscles in his arms flexing as he began to unbuckle his pants. Once San’s pants hit the floor and his thick, veiny cock sprung up, you found yourself sinking down to your knees, your mouth watering at the sight of pre-cum dribbling down the man’s reddened cockhead. “What do you want, princess? Tell me.”

“Your cock,” you requested immediately, settling your hands on his strong thighs. “In my mouth, please.”

“Ahh…?” San tilted his head to the side, his eyebrows raising up slightly.

“Daddy,” you replied swiftly, leaning in to rub your cheek against his hot, throbbing length, pouting, licking at the pre-cum that dripped onto your face. “Please.”

“Good girl. So dirty for me. Aren’t I a lucky man?” San let out a satisfied sigh, reaching down to wrap a good amount of your hair around his fist, holding it in a ponytail so that he could see your face, before sliding his cock into the hot, slick haven that was your mouth and throat. “That’s it, suck it nice and hard, princess. Show me how much you like having Daddy’s cock in your mouth.”

You reciprocated, throating his cock the best you could, choking and gagging occasionally, digging your fingers into his thighs.

“Mmm, there you go. You’re so good for me, angel. Don’t stop, okay?” San praised, closing his eyes, gripping your hair, slowly thrusting himself into your open mouth, delighted by the lewd sounds of your moans and the squelching sounds coming from your throat. Once he felt Wooyoung’s fingers slide into his hair and grip it, San looked up, watching Wooyoung lift one leg up onto the edge of the bed, the younger man’s eyes full of hunger.

Finally getting your throat to relax completely, you simply continued to take San’s cock in your throat, having to blink the remaining tears away to see San clearly — though nothing could prepare you for the sight of Wooyoung guiding San’s head downwards, his twitching cock disappearing inside San’s willing mouth.

“Fuck, it feels so hot,” Wooyoung panted, a bit of drool leaving his plump lips, thrusting deeper until he entered San’s throat, the older man’s groans vibrating onto Wooyoung’s balls each time they touched his chin. “Daddy acts so big and bad all the time, but he just loves getting cock rammed down his throat, huh?”

Wooyoung knew him so well. That’s why he was his favorite, well, aside from the angel that was taking him to heaven with only her mouth. San reached up with his free hand to massage Wooyoung’s balls, guiding his mouth along the younger man’s cock himself, sucking him off like he was made for it, like he always did.

Letting go of San’s hair to touch his own body, shuddering at all the pleasure at his disposal, Wooyoung gazed down at you, watching you obediently take San’s cock, the man’s hand still wrapped up in your hair and tugging at it. “Look at you go. You look so pretty when your mouth’s stuffed with cock, angel. You’re gonna make my Daddy cum so hard for you, huh?”

Squeezing your thighs together around your hand that was playing with your dripping cunt, you nodded your head, swearing you were about to cum just from what was happening around you, knowing San was in a similar place from the way he started to involuntarily buck his hips up into your mouth.

“Don’t swallow and save some for me, baby, okay? Don’t be stingy,” Wooyoung reminded you in a strained, breathy voice, almost falling over from the way San gripped one side of his hips, a string of obscenities falling from his lips when the man forcefully drove his throbbing cock into his hot throat, about to see god herself when San’s throat began constricting around his length like a pussy would. “Fuck, gonna cum, Sannie.”

San pulled back, a few thick strings of saliva connecting his swollen lips to Wooyoung’s dripping tip, his hand closing around the base to jerk him off. “Cum on Sannie’s face, will you? Make a big fucking mess for me.”

Wooyoung whined and panted, San’s slick hand moving quickly along his length, trying not to choke on his spit and moans, barely able to stay upright, but thankfully San had a good grip on his hips.

San looked down at you, licking the saliva from his lips, pulling out just enough so that his thick cockhead rested on your tongue. “Are you going to take this load? Hmm? Want it?”

“Yes, fuck, Daddy, please give it to me,” you begged, panting heavily, your fingers about to slip out of you from how fast you were moving them.

“Oh god, here it comes, angel,” San groaned out, squeezing around the base of Wooyoung’s cock, making him let out a broken, high-pitched whine.

Your combined pleasure came rocketing up to an intense peak, sending the three of you into a mindnumbing state of ecstasy. Thick, hot spurts of liquid came raining down on San’s face, just as his load shot out onto your tongue and down your throat, your own release soaking into the velvet carpet underneath you.

Fading out of reality during the majority of your high, your ears ringing, it took you a minute to realize that someone’s mouth was on yours, their fingers cupping your face. Opening your glossy eyes, you watched in a daze as Wooyoung took his sweet time slurping San’s cum off of your tongue.

San gripped Wooyoung’s hair and brought his head back, parting his lips and allowing Wooyoung to shovel his own cum into his mouth, swallowing it down with a low, pleased groan.

Pleased with the sin that was taking place in front of you, you took it upon yourself to drag your tongue across San’s chiseled jaw to his cheek, collecting some of Wooyoung’s release into your mouth, only to press your lips to his, letting him taste himself. Wooyoung moaned into your mouth, deepening the kiss, until San pulled you away from each other.

“Haven’t had enough, you two?” San chuckled, running a hand through his sweaty hair.

“No~ Not after that,” you giggled, rubbing your cheek against San’s palm when he caressed it.

Wooyoung wrapped his arms around you, looking at San with a sweet smile, his long eyelashes fluttering. “Can we keep her, Daddy? I promise I’ll take good care of her.”

Little wrinkles formed near San’s eyes once he smiled at you. “I suppose so.”

Apply for the taglist here ⇢ ♡

© kitten4sannie, 2023.