Archive of Our Own

Beomseok’s hands haven’t stopped shaking. His vision was already blurred from the tears, his cheek felt raw to the touch and his jaw ached. He kept his gaze down, avoiding the bathroom mirror for as long as he could. 

His childhood therapist once taught him a grounding technique that should help him when he had a panic attack. Something about activating his senses with the things around him so he could remind the shell of his body that he was, unfortunately, still present. 

5 things he could see:

1) That black spot in the corner of his shower that might either be black mold or dirt that might never go away. 

2) The shampoo that made his mess of waves manageable and less like a bird’s nest, the bottle that was nearly empty that he couldn’t afford to replace.

3) The razor he used to shave the little hair that grew on his face, a reminder of the inevitable passing of time, the temptation to just stop it from passing at all.

4) The damp bath mat that looked rough around the edges, he really should replace it but what was the point if it would just get dirty again?

5) The cracked porcelain sink with its leaky faucet and a plug that didn’t really work as well as it should. 

4 things he could touch:

1) The cold tile beneath his bare feet as he flexed his toes. 

2) The way the smooth countertop edge cut into his palms as he clutched it tight.

3) The ends of his hair tickling his nape, longer than he was allowed to keep it.

4) The slippery touch of silk on his bare skin.

Beomseok shuddered, letting his eyes fall shut. 

3 things he could hear:

1) The distant sounds of traffic passing through, never stopping, not around these parts definitely.

2) His heart beating against his chest, pulsing in his ears.

3) The muffled footsteps right outside the bathroom door, pacing and waiting. 

2 things he could smell: 

1) The sickeningly sweet perfume that he sprayed on to hide the stench of panicked sweat. It pierced his nose, inviting and tempting almost like a question that begged an answer. 

2) The metallic smell of blood—

“YAH! BEOMSEOK-AH! Hurry the fuck up!” 

Beomseok jerked from his trance, his muscles locking up immediately. He scrambled to return the products he was using. The soap and face towel he used to clean up, and the perfume bottle carefully placed on the shelf. He had very little in the way of luxury these days, but this was one of the few he held onto. 

“J-just a s-second!” Beomseok’s voice cracked, his throat hoarse from abuse. He furiously wiped his eyes, he knew that tears would only make them angrier. But he found himself stuck, clutching his sink and staring at his mirror. 

Survival instincts were innate in people, the urge to fight or run away was ingrained in their DNA. Beomseok was convinced that he truly was broken, born that way or made, because his mind had gone a different route. He responded in a way that felt primal, instincts built on pure survival: freeze or fawn.

His whole body seemed to have made the choice for him. His hair fell in the right way, curling just so to frame his face. It was no longer as straight as he usually kept it and was usually less cooperative but it apparently knew that tonight of all nights, Beomseok had to look good. The mark on his face turned his cheeks pink, tears making his eyes shimmer and his lips were cherry red from the blood rushing to the surface. His shoulders appeared slimmer, collar bones sharp and his skin glowed like pale moonlight. 

The silk slip was a champagne gold, fraying at the seams due to its cheap quality but on Beomseok, it seemed more expensive than a runway dress. It fell short of his upper thigh, his legs looking a mile long especially with the embarrassingly high slit. The back dipped low enough that it hit his lower back. 

He would be shivering from the cold if he wasn’t already trembling from the mess of emotions that churned his stomach. 

Beomseok gargled another cup of mouthwash just in case, the cuts in his mouth already numb. He flushed the toilet, the measly dinner he scrounged up disappearing with a swirl and took another shaky breath as he gripped the doorknob. 

1 thing he could taste: 

1) The acrid bitter taste of fear. 

The door creaked open—not the whole way because the wood always expanded after a steamy bath and the hinges were never fixed in the how many years since the apartment was built. There was a permanent draft from the window that never quite closed all the way, the cold nipping at Beomseok’s sweat damp skin. 

For some reason, the night dress made him feel more exposed than when he had to stand in just his underwear in front of his own father. Perhaps it was the fact that he was partially clothed, that not all of him was revealed and lended a certain air of mystery like there was still a part of him that was hidden away and untouched. He shuffled on bare feet, stopping in front of his bed, toes curling inward but he held himself open like he was taught. 

A whistle pierced through the stillness, making him flinch a little. 

“And to think, you almost didn’t want to put it on.” Beomseok’s vision began to blur, tears coming unbidden as it pooled on his lashline. His breath hitched when dirty trainers came into view before his jaw was squeezed by a big calloused hand. His gaze was forced upward and he met his assailant’s eyes. “I’m a genius, don’t you think?” 

Kang Wooyoung grinned, his smile borderline feral. It was a face he didn’t think he would see again. Wooyoung’s eyes were dark, doubling in size as he stepped backward. Beomseok felt devoured by his gaze, his muscles locked in place. The urge to cover himself had been beaten out of him but in this moment, he wished a part of himself still felt the need to protect his body like it was precious. Instead he lay himself on a silver platter, if only to ensure that the agony wouldn’t last as long as when he resisted. 

The bed whined as Wooyoung settled on the edge, leaning back on his hands with his knees spread apart. He commanded the space like he owned it, conquering land like it was his to take. Beomseok never knew what it was like to take up space, let alone demand it. 

“Give us a twirl, princess. Let’s see if the back is as good as the front.” Wooyoung chuckled under his breath. Beomseok’s mind was still tunneling, retreating too far and too fast into himself to fully understand Wooyoung’s words. He scowled before taking off one of his shoes and throwing it in Beomseok’s direction. It hit the closet behind Beomseok with a loud bang which was enough to snap Beomseok out of his own spiral. He blinked rapidly before his eyes focused on Wooyoung. 

Wooyoung sighed, rolling his eyes before he lifted one finger and did a circular motion. “Come on, doll. You don’t want to test my patience.” Beomseok blushed, turning slowly on shaky legs. The speed didn’t seem to matter since Wooyoung made an appreciative sound when Beomseok finally turned around. 

He squeezed his eyes shut, biting his lip to keep himself from completely breaking under the weight of Wooyoung’s attention. His pulse was so loud in his ears it felt like he was underwater, the sounds of Wooyoung’s voice muffled slightly. When he faced him again, Wooyoung looked equally bothered but something told Beomseok it was for a very different reason, a reason he was about to find out.

“Fuck… who knew you looked like a sexy slut under all that nerdy shit, huh? Come here.” Beomseok felt hot all over, the twisted compliment hooking into him like a metal spike in his soft underbelly. Wooyoung beckoned him over with a crook of his finger and he slowly approached, trying not to stumble over his own feet from sheer panic. 

But as soon as Beomseok was within reach, Wooyoung grabbed his forearm and yanked him closer. He forced him into his lap sideways and Beomseok had to bite back the instinct to pull away. It wasn’t like he was strong enough to free himself from Wooyoung’s hold anyway. His grip around his slim bicep was so tight, it would surely leave a ring of bruises tomorrow. 

Wooyoung was far too amused at being able to manhandle the other boy. He locked one strong arm around his waist while the other was free to explore the surprisingly delicate body. His hand traced down the length of Beomseok’s leg, looking impossibly long in the short slip. He wrapped his large hand around his ankle, feeling the give as he squeezed it tight. It was so dainty that the tips of his fingers met as he dug into the joint. Beomseok’s feet twitched before he let out a soft whimper of pain that made Wooyoung want to rip out more sounds from that reluctant throat. 

He was quieter than he expected, almost like he knew how to stop himself from making too much noise. Unfortunately for him, Wooyoung liked his prey screaming and begging for mercy. 

“Look at you. You’re so delicate, makes me want to snap your bones.” Wooyoung sensed Beomseok’s panic before he started squirming, tightening his hold around that slim waist. He was staring at the pale smooth skin of his feet, the way his muscles flexed in his grip. He was so pale that Wooyoung could trace the veins under his skin. “How about it? Do you want me to snap your ankles so you can match mine?” 

Wooyoung looked up at Beomseok, who was staring down at his hand. His wide eyes were red rimmed, obvious shock in his gaze while tears ran down his cheek. He didn’t know, Wooyoung scoffed. Of course he wouldn’t give a shit about some poor kid like him. He wouldn’t think it was his fault Wooyoung found himself entangled in that mess, bearing the consequences for that one shitty deal he made.

One of Beomseok’s hands was gripping the arm around his waist while the other was wrapped around Wooyoung’s shoulders, blunt nails digging into the meat of his back. 

“I asked you a question, doll.” Wooyoung squeezed as a warning and Beomseok stuttered out his answer.

“N-no… please…” Beomseok bit his lip hard enough to turn his mouth white and Wooyoung clicked his tongue in disapproval. 

“ Ah-ah, don’t do that. I want to hear you.” Wooyoung pulled his swollen bottom lip with his thumb, pressing down until a bead of blood formed. He swiped through the broken skin before tasting it himself. Beomseok’s mouth hung open, like he was in shock that Wooyoung would want to consume anything of his but he would learn soon just how much Wooyoung would take. 

He continued his exploration, moving from his ankle up to his slim calves. He pressed his thumb into the joint of his knee, just to feel Beomseok jerk in his lap. He moved up his thigh, almost hairless as he drew upward. The tips of his fingers slipped under the edge of the dress when Beomseok’s hand shot out to grab his wrist. 

“W-wait—” Beomseok’s eyes were wide, mouth snapping shut as if he too was surprised that he had stopped Wooyoung, like he wasn’t used to actually trying to protect himself. 

Wooyoung didn’t immediately take it against him, it was a natural response after all. He cocked his head to the side and Beomseok cowed immediately, curling into himself as his lip began to tremble. 

“I— I m-mean— I just… no one—” Beomseok could feel his throat closing up, the touch had been so surprising that his body acted without him even realizing. It was such an intimate place and no one but his father had ever touched him there, even if it was to strike him. Wooyoung’s gaze sharpened before he drew his hand back. 

Beomseok almost missed the warmth of it before he was suddenly struck. His face snapped to the side, pain exploding on one side of his face. Beomseok gasped, feeling his tears burst from his eyes. He was in a daze, stunned from the shock. Wooyoung grabbed his jaw and forced him to look at him again. 

“It’s good you still know how to say no, it means you won’t let anyone else touch you.” Wooyoung’s hand moved up to run through Beomseok’s hair, making him tremble as he tucked an errant curl behind his ear with a gentleness that nearly broke him. His fingers ran through the thick mop at the back of his head before suddenly tightening his grip, painfully grabbing his hair. “But don’t ever try to fucking stop me from touching what’s mine. You’re my property now, doll and I either treat you like a whore or a princess, that’s up to you. Got it?” 

Beomseok nodded, shoulders shaking from the force of his crying. Wooyoung’s scowl softened, cooing like he was trying to soothe a hurt animal. 

“Don’t cry, come on. Stop wasting those precious tears, yeah?” Beomseok flinched as Wooyoung wiped under his eye, his whole face fitting in the cradle of his palm. The edges of his lips curled in a cruel smirk. “I’ll give a real reason to cry later, okay?” 

Beomseok’s stomach flipped, tensing as Wooyoung moved his hand down to his neck. His thumb fit in the divot between his collar bones, almost like he was testing the give of the soft flesh. Then he hovered over his shoulder before curling one finger under the thin strap, hooking it before letting it fall to the side. 

It teased a part of his pale chest and Beomseok held up that side almost coquettishly as the flush crawled down his neck. It was insane how much he teased Wooyoung without realizing it. Wooyoung squeezed Beomseok’s wrist, another warning before he pulled that arm away. His chest was left exposed, his nipples hard from the cold but covered by the silk. Wooyoung moved his hand over his heated skin, fingers brushing over the stiff peak and Beomseok choked on a whine. He squirmed in Wooyoung’s lap but Wooyoung didn’t care, too engrossed in his own exploration. 

He flicked the hard flesh before pinching and Beomseok let out a gasp, seizing up. His chest pushed outward almost like he was chasing the sensation. Wooyoung licked his lips, grinning before he tugged the slip even lower. He could hear Beomseok sobbing, muttering something but Wooyoung ignored his soft protests. The span of his hand could cover his ribs, the valley between his bones perfectly fitting his fingers. His thumb pressed his pert nipple, making Beomseok shudder above him. He was placed right over Wooyoung’s crotch and no doubt he could feel the bulge pressing against his ass. 

Beomseok’s eyes widened, alarm bells ringing in his mind. He felt panic take hold and he began to struggle in Wooyoung’s grip. Wooyoung only responded by grabbing both his wrists and twisting them behind his back. Beomseok cried out in pain but Wooyoung just tightened his hold as he lowered his head. Without warning, he wrapped his lips around Beomseok’s pec and bit down on his nipple. 

“Ah!” Beomseok gasped in pain, electric sparks shooting up to his brain, sending confusing signals through his already overly sensitive body. Wooyoung soothed over the bite with his tongue, rolling the stiff peak between his teeth and his lips and tongue. 

Beomseok whined, clenching his thighs together. He’d never been touched there before, he didn’t know his body would react like this. Wooyoung pulled away with a wet sucking sound, smug as he looked up at Beomseok. 

“Like it that much, doll? You scream like a virgin.” Wooyoung chuckled, wiping the drool from the corner of Beomseok’s mouth. His eyes were already dark, panting from parted lips. Wooyoung leaned in, ignoring the flinch as he drew closer to Beomseok’s throat. 

An enticing scent greeted him, the faint aroma he smelled from earlier was strongest here. He took a greedy lungful before laughing to himself. It was sweet almost like a dessert and Wooyoung took it as an invitation to taste Beomseok’s skin. 

“Made yourself all sweet for me, pretty?” He groaned, sniffing him like a dog. Wooyoung’s tongue ran up the length of Beomseok’s neck, scraping the edge of his canines against his jaw. “You spoil me, princess.” 

Beomseok shuddered, hands spasming behind him. His head was thrown back as Wooyoung attacked his neck. He sucked bruises into that pale skin, teeth digging in painfully around his Adam’s apple. Beomseok let out a soft moan, squeezing his eyes shut as he slowly lost control over his own body.

It betrayed him in the way it turned pliable under Wooyoung’s ministrations, bending to his will. He manhandled Beomseok with an ease that scared him. Wooyoung’s free hand drifted lower and this time, it moved unimpeded to Beomseok’s most private part. He bullied his way between his clenched thighs and brushed his fingers over the heated skin. Beomseok twitched, mewling when Wooyoung pressed his palm against his crotch. 

Wooyoung perked up, making a show of leaning back. “Holy shit, you actually like this. I knew you were fucked in the head.” Wooyoung looked almost amazed at this discovery while Beomseok looked down, horrified that his body no longer felt like his own. They could both see how he strained obscenely against the silk that barely covered him, a wet spot beginning to form. 

Wooyoung pressed his palm against him and Beomseok’s hips stuttered as he choked on a moan. He felt so hot against his skin even covered by the silk, it felt like he could burn right through it. Wooyoung suddenly tossed him onto the bed with no preamble and Beomseok scrambled backward. He pulled his knees to his chest, pulling what little fabric he could to cover that part. 

Wooyoung looked at him from his spot at the end of the bed, twisted around and he laughed. The sound grated on Beomseok’s ears, making him grit his teeth. 

“You look so scared, princess.” Wooyoung got up and started unbuttoning his pants. Beomseok’s eyes widened, and he curled in a protective little ball. Wooyoung shook his head with a sigh as he pulled his shirt over his head. “Don’t look at me like that, doll. You’re gonna make me feel bad.” 

Beomseok couldn’t stop his eyes from taking in all that newly uncovered skin, his broad shoulders and his tight stomach. He was big in a way Beomseok would never be, his muscles flexing as he crawled onto the bed. Beomseok’s sob slipped from his clenched teeth as Wooyoung reached upward, curling his fingers around Beomseok’s ankle and pulling him hard.

“N-no, no please, p-please— don’t—” Beomseok sobbed, pawing at Wooyoung’s arms and chest as Wooyoung yanked him towards the center of the bed. Despite his best efforts, he was no match for Wooyoung’s strength, it was almost laughable. “P-please, please—”  

“Shhh, it’s okay.” Wooyoung hushed Beomseok’s cries, caging him underneath him with his arms. The breadth of his shoulders covered Beomseok completely, he was just so much bigger than him. His silk slip rode up his legs, exposing him and Beomseok desperately tried to tug it further down, knees knocked together. 

Wooyoung easily pried them apart, spread wide to fit him between his thighs. Beomseok’s chest heaved as he cried while Wooyoung kissed his knee, lifting it up and over his shoulder. The other leg fell open to the side, pressed down painfully by his hand on his inner thigh. Beomseok kept his hands over his crotch, shaking his head pitifully as he sobbed. 

“Please— please, don’t I—” 

“You know, I came here to beat the shit out of you.” Wooyoung mused, trailing his fingers over the leg flung over his shoulder. He kissed down his pale thigh, biting every so often just to feel his muscles jump. Beomseok choked on his pleas, letting Wooyoung’s words sink in. The implication that the night would’ve ended so much worse if it hadn’t been for this accidental discovery. “Did you know that little psycho friend of yours visited me? He came in swinging and crushed my ankle. Doctors said it would never heal the same again.” 

Wooyoung murmured against his skin, squeezing Beomseok’s ankle as if to show him exactly where his dreams started and ended that day. Beomseok whimpered, tugging his leg helplessly like a deer stuck in a bear trap. “I thought, I could give you a matching one. How about it, Beomseok-ah? We could match and call it even, what do you say?” 

Beomseok shook his head, tears streaming down his face. His hands clutched the sheets beneath him, unwashed for more than a month, moth-eaten and worn. Wooyoung smirked, dragging his teeth over his femoral artery. He wondered how hard he’d have to bite to reach it, how long it would take before Beomseok passed out from blood loss, how much he could consume from him before it would be too much. 

“But I thought about it, and seeing you like this makes me think ‘ what a waste’, a pretty thing like you. Can’t be breaking my toys on the first go, right?” Wooyoung sucked a deep bruise in the junction of Beomseok’s upper thigh and his hip, digging into that sensitive fold. Beomseok yelped in pain, kicking his leg in the air. One hand flew to grip Wooyoung’s shoulder but he was either too weak or not even bothering to push him off. 

Wooyoung smiled against his skin, bodies didn’t lie the way words did. He dipped his tongue in the divot, tasting clean soap and salt before moving upward. The silk slip did nothing to cover Beomseok’s dignity, only highlighting how his cock was responding in contrast to Beomseok’s pleas. He let it gently fall away, before pulling Beomseok’s underwear down. His dick jerked as it was exposed to the cold air, already wet. 

In a snap, Beomseok seemed to remember his arms were still free and began clawing at Wooyoung in a desperate attempt to stop him. “S-stop–! D-don’t— don’t touch me— AH!” Beomseok cried out in pain when Wooyoung, more annoyed than anything, decided to grab his hands roughly. He shoved him, trying to tug his hands loose and kicking with his legs. His knee nearly hit Wooyoung’s temple and Wooyoung was over playing nice. 

He slapped Beomseok with his heavy palm, the sound making both their ears ring. Beomseok choked on a sob as Wooyoung shoved him, flipping him onto his stomach. 

“N-no, nononono—” Beomseok sobbed, gasping wetly on his sheets as Wooyoung sighed, pushing his hair out of his face. He whipped his belt out and the sound made Beomseok freeze, almost like a command. The crack of the leather pierced through the tears and Wooyoung wrapped it around his arms, tying them behind his back before flipping him over again. 

“You know, you’re really pissing me off. I was trying to be nice but I guess you don’t like that.” Wooyoung wiped his brow, looking down at Beomseok between his legs. 

Beomseok whined, shaking his head with a fresh set of tears running down his cheeks. “P-please, I— mphh!” 

Without preamble, Beomseok’s mouth was stuffed with a gag that tasted musky and pungent. The texture was rough on his tongue, the thick cloth choking him as Wooyoung stuffed it further down. He cackled, grabbing something from his pocket and Beomseok’s eyes widened when he realized it was his phone.

The bastard was taking a picture. 

“Smile, princess.” Wooyoung grinned, taking a couple photos. He grabbed Beomseok’s chin and forced his mouth closed. “How’d you like the taste? Sorry, I forgot to do my laundry.” 

Beomseok gurgled as Wooyoung made a show of peeling his other sock from his foot and tossing it to the side. The realization of what was in his mouth finally came and Beomseok gagged from disgust. 

Wooyoung moved further down now that he didn’t have to hold Beomseok down, lifting him by the waist and repositioning him further up the bed. He pulled his underwear and tossed it behind him, leaving him completely exposed. Wooyoung himself hissed as he pressed on his own neglected bulge, unbuttoning his pants while Beomseok lay helpless, unable to stop what was coming. 

“I’m making you an offer, doll. This one you won’t even need to pay me for.” Wooyoung spoke casually like this was an everyday hook up. Beomseok’s heart was beating wildly against his chest, desperate to break free as Wooyoung slowly unzipped. He pushed down the waistband of his boxers and pulled out his cock, it was bigger than Beomseok’s and girthier. He pumped himself before positioning in between Beomseok’s legs. “You let me fuck you, I won’t kill you. Sounds like a good deal, right?” 

Beomseok’s knees squeezed Wooyoung’s side, his muffled cries turning into pitiful whines. His shoulders were painfully sore with his hands tied behind his back and all he could really do was twist his hips when Wooyoung grabbed him. His blunt nails dug into the soft skin over his bony hips, pressing painfully enough to bruise as he pulled him in to press flush against his crotch. He rubbed his cock against Beomseok, the searing length felt hot and heavy like a warning. 

Beomseok hiccuped, his chest stuttering as he kept sobbing. He squeezed his eyes shut, unable to stomach the idea that his own body was turning into this needy aching thing as the touch lit up every nerve. He tucked his chin to the side, trying to bury his face in the pillows. He squeaked when he felt Wooyoung shift, leaning closer until he could feel his breath on his temple. 

“You fucked me over, Beomseok-ah. It’s time someone holds you accountable, rich boy.” His words were chilling, holding a threatening promise. His lips brushed against the soft shell of his ear, making him shiver. He pulled back enough for Beomseok to see Wooyoung’s eyes turn cold, not a trace of that mischief from earlier. It left him with an overwhelming sense of danger. 

He pressed his weight down until Beomseok felt like he couldn’t breath, still choking around the makeshift gag. He could feel the snot running down his nose, tears making it difficult to see and breathe. Beomseok could feel the moment his body registered the feeling of drowning, seizing up in panic when the lack of oxygen makes his lungs burn. 

Wooyoung must feel it because he’s off of Beomseok and fishing out the gag from his mouth. When it was out, Beomseok coughed loudly as he took in greedy gulps of air. He was close to dry heaving when Wooyoung pushed him back down and shoved his fingers inside instead. 

“Suck, and you better get it wet enough unless you want it to hurt.” Beomseok’s eyes widened and he began sucking hard, swirling his tongue frantically around Wooyoung’s long fingers. His mouth felt too dry from the dirty sock but he did his best as he hollowed his cheeks. Wooyoung groaned at the tight suction. “ Fuck, look at you go. I should give you my dick instead, you’re gagging for it. Maybe next time.” 

Beomseok’s stomach dropped, maybe next time , which meant this torment would continue instead of ending tonight like Beomseok had hoped. 

He nearly gagged as Wooyoung pressed deeper, hitting the back of his throat with a hungry look. He ignored the soft choking sounds, the way his body was protesting until Wooyoung felt satisfied because it was always going to be his call over Beomseok. His fingers came away shiny, strings of saliva snapping as he lifted it away from his chin. Beomseok’s eyes widened when Wooyoung licked it, his tongue obscenely wrapped around his bony fingers, almost like he couldn’t help but want to taste him. 

Beomseok’s chest stuttered as he lowered his hand, slipping between his cheeks. At the first touch, Beomseok jerked, trying to wriggle away as Wooyoung circled his untouched taint before pushing in. 

“W-wait, wait—!” Beomseok choked on a gasp, back bowing as Wooyoung pushed all the way in until the knuckle. Wooyoung grunted, feeling the tight clench around him and already wanting to feel it around his cock. He pressed Beomseok’s hips down, digging his nails in to stop him from moving away as he thrusted roughly into him. 

“Shut up.” Wooyoung kept going despite his protests, pushing in a second finger. It felt a little too soon, the stretch barely able to fit both of it but Wooyoung was not known for his kindness nor his patience. He pumped with his whole arm until Beomseok’s legs spasmed on the bed. He gathered more saliva and spat on his hole as he pushed a third finger in. 

“I-It won’t fit!” Beomseok shouted, his voice hoarse. He cried out when Wooyoung finally managed to hit that little bundle of nerves that set him alight. It felt like touching a livewire, his vision whiting out for a brief second. His cock jerked in the air, weeping against his stomach as he heaved. 

Wooyoung scoffed, leaning over to press more of his weight down. He licked the side of Beomseok’s face, digging his canines into the softness of his cheek. “Then you better start unclenching, babe or this will hurt more.” With great effort, Beomseok did start unclenching but with every push of his fingers, Wooyoung could feel his hole fluttering despite himself. 

He pressed down on that bump, locating it easily once he familiarized himself with the feel of it. It was almost like a switch. Pressing down on it with a staccato beat, Beomseok’s cries turned into deep throaty moans. He whined, veins in his long elegant neck bulging as he threw his head back. His cock drooled sticky liquid steadily, almost like he was being milked. Wooyoung licked his lips, wanting to have a taste. He was torturing himself at this point, and decided to abruptly pull out. 

At the reprieve, Beomseok let out a deep shaky exhale as he blinked up at the ceiling and Wooyoung cupped the back of his neck to get his unfocused gaze back on him. He couldn’t help but chuckle, wiping the drool at the corner of his mouth with his thumb. 

“Hey, doll. Come on… come back to me, princess. Can’t let you have all the fun right?” Beomseok looked so far gone, and Wooyoung couldn’t have that. He wanted him to remember everything that he was going to make him feel. He wiped his hand on the sheet before grabbing a fistful of his hair and slapping him. Beomseok cried out, shuddering from the sudden sensation. He blinked rapidly, tears forming and Wooyoung felt satisfied enough when the fear began trickling back into his eyes. “There you are. Don’t lose it just yet, I want you to feel this.” 

He gripped the back of his head while the other guided his cock to press against his hole. Beomseok whimpered, shaking his head as pleas slipped from his cut lips. Wooyoung hushed him, foreheads pressed together as he forced Beomseok to watch as he spread him open as he entered him. It was almost too much, the fat head of his cock catching a few times but he finally got it, watching as the skin turned an angry red as it was forced to stretch. 

Wooyoung groaned as the tight engulfed him, hole fluttering around him. Beomseok moaned, hiccuping as tears streamed down his face. Wooyoung hushed him, pressing down on his lower stomach before shoving all the way in with one brutal thrust. Beomseok screamed as the pain ripped through him and suddenly their chests were streaked white. 

Wooyoung laughed like a maniac, letting Beomseok flop down on the bed. His fingers moved through the mess between them, gathering before shoving it in Beomseok’s mouth. “Fuck, you really are just a cock-hungry slut. You liked saying ‘no’, huh? Come on, say it again, princess. Beg me to stop.” Wooyoung rocked into him, grinding deep inside. 

Beomseok could barely catch his breath, thighs shaking as he was stretched beyond capacity. He felt hollowed out and filled with something that forced his insides to mold into something new. 

“P-plea— please—! S-stop, it, it h-hurts— hngg!!” Beomseok was cut off by another brutal thrust and a cruel laugh. Wooyoung kept goading him, cutting him off at the first sign of a full word. Beomseok’s head spun, black spots dancing at the edge of his vision but the pain kept him grounded. It made him feel whole and alive. 

Wooyoung started picking up the pace, slamming into him roughly that he was forced upward on the bed. His legs were thrown over Wooyoung’s shoulders, ankles dangling in the air as he was folded over. It was a tight stretch on his inflexible thighs but it didn’t matter, just another pang of pain adding to the overwhelming sensations attacking his mind. 

“Fuck, you’re so tight.” Wooyoung panted, both elbows bracketing Beomseok’s head. The sweat dripped from his face onto Beomseok’s face, the heat trapped between them peaking. “I’m going to tear your pussy open, princess.” 

Beomseok let out a loud whine, nearly biting his tongue at a particularly hard thrust. He could feel it begin to sting but the pain was dulled by the overall sensation from his ass. It was starting to become almost smooth, the slide in and out that even Wooyoung sat up on his knees to check. 

“Oh, fuck, doll. Look at the mess you’re making.” Beomseok made a pained sound, legs rearranged until he was on his side and forced into a split with one knee on Wooyoung’s shoulder. His cock was purplish at the head, leaking profusely onto the bed but the mess Wooyoung was talking about was from the fluid now coating his own cock. The pink flesh turned redder with every push and Wooyoung’s hind brain zoned in on the blood running in rivulets down his ass. “You’re getting so wet for me, baby. You like it that much?”

Beomseok sobbed, the pain was unlike anything he experienced before. He wailed as Wooyoung rolled his hips, the wet sounds of their skin slapping against each other became louder. He had a handful of his ass, spreading his cheeks so he could see the way Beomseok struggled to let him in but barely let him leave, almost like he was sucking him in and trying to keep him there. 

“Plea— pleasepleasepleaseplease—” Wooyoung’s ears perked up, finally tuning back into the muffled stream of pleas from Beomseok’s mouth. He dropped his legs, turning him onto his stomach. Beomseok’s hips jerked as he pulled out, his sensitive cock rubbing roughly against the sheets. 

“Please– what? Put it back in?” Wooyoung teased his cock against Beomseok’s gaping hole, unable to fully close anymore. Beomseok whimpered, shaking his head against the pillows. 

“D-don’t… please— n-no more— AH!” Beomseok gasped as Wooyoung spat on his hole before pushing back in, a hand pressing down on his lower back to stop him from moving.

“Shhh, don’t fight it, sweetheart. It’ll only be bad for you.” Wooyoung leaned forward, whispering against Beomseok’s trembling shoulders. Smiling against his skin, not at all apologetic. 

Beomseok felt completely overwhelmed, tethered only by the pain he was feeling as his whole body felt like flying apart. He mewled when Wooyoung moved shallowly in and out of him, peppering his sweaty back with kisses. The gentle touch sent Beomseok’s head spinning, his heart nearly giving out inside his chest. He wanted this to end, he wanted to come, he wanted Wooyoung to be done with it. He wanted this nightmare to end, to have control over his body again. 

Wooyoung pulled all the back out, catching the rim on his head before shoving it all in again. Beomseok choked on a scream, feeling speared open all over again. 

“It h-hurts… it hurts!” Beomseok wailed, crying into the pillows. His complaints only seemed to spur Wooyoung on, grunting in ear as he kept his brutal pace. The pleasure in core threatened to overtake him as his cock was pressed into the sheets, hypersensitive from his earlier orgasm. 

“Fuck, come on, keep saying that shit, princess. Talk dirty to me, baby.” Wooyoung cackled, slapping his ass and watching it bounce as his hips slammed into him. The imprint of his hand bloomed red on his skin and Wooyoung kept slapping him over and over, feeling the way he clenched around him with every hit. “God, you’re telling me to stop but you’re still sucking me in. You really can’t help being a slut.” 

“ Ngh— n-no … no-not—” Beomseok stuttered, shaking his head weakly. Wooyoung hummed, grabbing a fistful of his hair to lift him up. He held him up by his biceps, one arm wrapped around his abused chest. 

“What was that? What did you say, doll? Come on, speak up.” Wooyoung goaded Beomseok into speaking, cutting him off with a hard thrust every time his jaw worked. He latched onto his neck, biting bruises into his milky white skin. 

“I-I ne-never— hhhnngg…” Beomseok whined, head dropping forward as Wooyoung held him up to fuck him onto his cock. 

“Aw, were you saving yourself like a good girl? Did your daddy teach you that, princess?” Wooyoung felt a shift in Beomseok at the mention of his father, curiously so. Beomseok let out a soft growl, wriggling out of his hold with significantly more effort. 

So one of his buttons was his father, Wooyoung snorted, how fucking typical. Wooyoung renewed his brutal pace, effectively robbing Beomseok of any higher thinking. Beomseok moaned openly, his hands spasming behind him. He pressed it against Wooyoung’s stomach, nails clawing at what he could as the grip on his biceps tightened. Wooyoung shoved him back down onto the bed, lifting his hips up to position his ass better. 

“ Ah, fuck. Come on arch your back for me, yea— good girl.” Wooyoung groaned, the phrase slipping out almost subconsciously as Beomseok presented himself, following his instructions. “Oh? Did you like that? Do you want me to call you a good girl?” 

Beomseok moaned almost sweetly as Wooyoung hit his prostate dead on. His cock jumped with every thrust, feeling Wooyoung so deep, it felt like he could feel him in his throat. He was getting close, he could feel it, his thighs shaking with effort to stay up as Wooyoung plowed through him. Wooyoung wrapped his ruined silk slip in his fist, hearing a loud tear as he used it almost like handlebars to pull him back onto his cock. Beomseok whimpered, his own hips rolling backwards as he worked to chase his own high. 

He could feel the weight behind him shift and suddenly Wooyoung pulled out. Beomseok let out an involuntary cry, the pleasure peaking suddenly cut short. He whipped his head back to see Wooyoung panting, staring at him with a hungry gaze. His cock was still hard, jerking against his stomach. 

Beomseok whined, his whole body shuddering as he presented himself. His back arched deeper, his ass enticingly in the air but Wooyoung was moving up the bed until he was sitting against the headboard. Beomseok whined, unable to do much but wriggle towards him. 

Wooyoung watched him struggle as he gathered himself, breathing hard. He was almost about to cum but he wasn’t yet satisfied. The pain that shot up his ankle in the position they were in snapped him out of his haze, anger returning to him. His jaw clenched, gaze narrowing before he lifted Beomseok with little effort. Beomseok gasped as he was positioned on his lap, straddling his hips with his cock pressed against his ass. Wooyoung pushed his hair out of his face before his big hands wrapped around Beomseok’s sinfully slender waist. 

“What is it, doll? Were you enjoying yourself too much?” Wooyoung hummed, as Beomseok started grinding restlessly on his lap. He let the other boy move freely, his silk slip falling off one shoulder, pooling around him until it covered his cock. It held on valiantly bunched up around Wooyoung’s hands. “Were you close, hm?” 

Beomseok wasn’t fully aware of his nodding, utterly focused on being able to release the pressure building in his core. His body was hot all over, the air in the room making him shake. He could feel Wooyoung’s thumbs rubbing deep circles in his lower belly, pressing hard like he wanted to bruise his insides from the outside. Wooyoung leaned forward, sucking on the little space that was left unmarked on his collarbones. Beomseok melted into him, head falling back with a soft little moan as he rolled his hips back to rub his ass on Wooyoung’s throbbing cock. 

“Finally feeling good, princess?” Wooyoung whispered against his sweat drenched skin, tongue laving over his shoulder. He sunk his teeth in until Beomseok jerked, whining softly in pain. His head fell forward, resting against Wooyoung’s temple. Wooyoung curled his tongue in Beomseok’s ear, coaxing out more of his sweeter sounds as his hips stuttered and grinded down on his lap. 

“Do you want to come?” Wooyoung prodded, biting the soft shell of his ear. Beomseok moaned, nodding his head as he panted. Wooyoung tipped his chin up, forcing their eyes to meet. “Better work for it, doll.” 

Beomseok blinked at him slowly, his brain had fallen deeply into a haze. It took a while for him to fully understand what Wooyoung was saying. He let out a confused little sound when Wooyoung spread his cheeks as he lifted him up, pressing his cock against his abused hole. Beomseok gasped as he pushed himself back in, just the tip before letting go. Wooyoung tucked his hands behind his head, arms flexing as Beomseok nearly lost balance as he was forced to be on his knees. 

“Come on, you know what to do now, right? Go on, fuck yourself or I won’t let you come.”

Beomseok’s stomach dropped, already feeling the strain on his thighs as he stayed upright. He had no balance either with his hands still tied behind his back. But with an eyebrow raise from Wooyoung, Beomseok began to sink back down onto his cock. Like this, he could let gravity do the work for him except he somehow felt even bigger like this, reaching deeper than he did. Wooyoung let out a soft grunt but did nothing as Beomseok panted. He shakily pushed himself up, reaching only halfway before he collapsed back down. The suddenness punched the breath out of Beomseok’s lungs, making him whine. 

Wooyoung watched as Beomseok struggled to gather any strength in his slim legs, shaking so forcefully that he nearly lost balance. He could only lift himself halfway before dropping back down. The force of it made Beomseok clench deliciously tight around Wooyoung and he groaned, letting his head fall back as he readjusted to the new pace. 

Beomseok’s struggle only grew as time went on, sweating and shaking as he lost the ability to even lift himself properly. He was stuck grinding pathetically against Wooyoung’s cock, having him pressed deep inside him. He squeezed his eyes shut, tears of frustration slipping down his cheeks. He gasped when he felt a touch on his stomach, vision blurry as he looked down to see Wooyoung’s hand pressing against his stomach. 

“Fuck, look at you. You’re stuffed fucking full.” The awe in his voice was apparent but Beomseok only felt horror as Wooyoung shifted, his cock showing in his slightly distended stomach. He made a panicked little noise and nearly fell off, if it weren’t for Wooyoung’s arm around his waist. Beomseok let out a sharp cry when Wooyoung pressed harder, groaning when he felt the pressure from the outside on his cock. “Fuck, that’s hot. You’re so fucking sexy, baby.” 

Beomseok suddenly felt warm for an entirely different reason, the compliment melting sugary sweet on his tongue. His brain lit up and he shifted his hips, bending backward to show off the bulge in his stomach further. The image made Wooyoung moan, seeing his cock pushing against that muscle. He pressed against it again, shoving a fist right below his belly button before he started thrusting upward. 

Beomseok bounced on his lap, bending backwards with only Wooyoung’s hand on his back as support. Wooyoung was mesmerized by how his own cock was violating this slender body, forcing it to mold to him, to create space it didn’t have for him. He was thrusting in faster, squeezing Beomseok’s waist to move him up and down almost like a toy. He was certainly light enough that it didn’t take much effort. 

Beomseok could feel the pleasure cresting once more, the heat pooling in his core turning his bones into liquid. His mind was somewhere else now, completely shut off and focused only on chasing that high all the way over the edge. He could feel Wooyoung’s teeth over his chest, soft pinpricks of pain that were muffled against the roar of blood in his ears. His jaw hung loose, no longer holding back the sounds punched out of his throat by Wooyoung’s cock. His whole body was just a single nerve ending, sparks exploding behind his eyes. He could feel the pace beginning to speed up, turning sloppy and rough. 

He was thrown onto the bed and Wooyoung positioned his limp body onto his stomach. Beomseok felt a sudden crushing pressure on the back of his skull and he moaned in pain. Wooyoung had one knee on the bed while his other foot was pressed against Beomseok’s head, stepping on him as leaned his weight forward. He grunted, fucking him deeper as he chased his own orgasm. Beomseok was pliant, completely docile with only his hole clenching and unclenching around him. He growled as he continued to put pressure on his foot, every thrust a brutal slap against his skin. Beomseok’s eyes rolled to the back of his head as his hips jerked, his cock spraying all over the bed. 

It kept going as Wooyoung drilled into his prostate, weeping continuously until Beomseok cried out. Wooyoung grunted, pulling out and flipping him onto his back. Beomseok groaned, blearily blinking up at him as his softening cock continued to leak. Wooyoung shoved back in and Beomseok barely reacted, soft little noises slipping from his open mouth as Wooyoung felt his orgasm oncoming. He leaned forward, sticking his tongue between Beomseok’s lips as he spilled inside with a throaty moan. 

Wooyoung pulled out, hissing as he continued to jerk his cock and white streaks landed all over Beomseok’s stomach and chest, some even reaching his chin. He huffed, squeezing himself at the base before pushing back in to shove the mess back inside as it leaked out of Beomseok’s ass. Beomseok didn’t even fight, his hole completely loose. The wet squelching sounded obscene as Wooyoung moaned, throwing his head back as he prolonged his high by fucking back into Beomseok’s fluttering hole. Beomseok mewled, legs spasming before he wrapped it around Wooyoung’s waist. His ankles locked against his lower back, pushing him deeper. 

Wooyoung leaned forward, arms caging Beomseok’s head and tongue fucked his mouth. Beomseok barely kissed him back, letting Wooyoung lick into his mouth and suck on his lips. He could feel Beomseok's hips jerk, tightening again as more whitish fluid burst from his cock and dribbled down to the bed. 

Wooyoung groaned, feeling himself come again. “Ah, fuck! I’m gonna—!” He pulled out until just the head was inside and came, his cum painting the outside of his hole, adding to the mess. Beomseok let out a weak moan, his whole body shuddering and twitching before his eyes fluttered close. 

When he came to, Beomseok found himself curled on his side. His lower back throbbed with dullish pain, his legs effectively useless. He could smell the faint scent of smoke, hearing the faint burn of a cigarette. A part of him itched to take a hit but his bones felt like jelly. He looked down to find his wrists rubbed raw, a red ring around both. He felt the bed shift behind him and his eyes closed again, listening to the muted sound of feet walking to the bathroom and the door closing. 

There was a loud flush and the pipes in the walls groaned as they did their job, and the door creaked open. A damp towel was thrown onto his legs, the sudden cold slapping his skin making him jerk. 

“I’m not cleaning up your mess.” Beomseok stared up at Wooyoung and Wooyoung calmly met his angry gaze, red-rimmed eyes hidden under his dark fringe. He noticed how much wavier his hair was from the humidity, it was funny. Wooyoung smirked around his cigarette, buttoning his pants and moving to pick up his shirt. 

In the corner of his eye, he watched as Beomseok slowly pushed himself into a sitting position. All his limbs shook from the effort and he felt a curl of satisfaction that he’d done that. He’d broken Beomseok all the way down to the core, without having to break any bones. It was a different kind of enjoyment. He was still in that torn silk slip, draped over his bruised body like he was a crumbling marble statue. His hands trembled as he gripped the towel and tried to wipe the inside of his thighs, twitching softly when he brushed over more sensitive skin. His hair fell like a curtain, framing the gentle slope of his nose and split lip. He looked like the tragic princess of a besieged kingdom, taken and conquered, owned completely and broken to pieces. 

Wooyoung sat at the edge of the bed and watched, burning through his cigarette until the filter as Beomseok continued the painstaking process of haphazardly cleaning himself of both of their messes. A part of him wanted to make sure that he had buried himself in him so deep, he would be embedded in his DNA. Forever scarred as Wooyoung was, unable to forget or move on. 

Beomseok felt the stone in his gut settle heavier with every swipe through the mix of bodily fluids that stained his skin. Part of him wondered if he would ever feel clean, hollowed as he was. He felt like a piece of fruit that had been split open with its core removed, cleaned out to make space for a foreign object that no longer felt alien. He felt strangely empty without Wooyoung inside of him, in the sense that his chest felt like it was collapsing without his ribs. He felt more naked staring at the torn pieces of that strangely beautiful nightdress, rippling across his body like spilled liquid. It honestly upset him more that it had been destroyed. He was never materialistic, in spite of how he had been raised but he always had a certain weakness for gifts, especially ones that were so specifically for him. Thought and care materialized into an object that was made to adorn him, hold proof that attention was real and solely his. What a sick thing to wish from the man who assaulted him. 

Beomseok was busy cleaning so he didn’t notice Wooyoung moving close until he felt a touch on his fringe. He jumped, eyes snapping up to Wooyoung’s feline gaze, narrowed and dark. Beomseok froze, trapped like a prey animal locked in a staredown with a predator. Wooyoung simply tucked an errant curl behind his ear with a small huff, squatted down next to the bed. With his size, he still came up to about Beosmeok’s chest level. 

“Your phone.” 

It took a second for the words to register in Beomseok, an order wrapped up in a statement. A demand, not a request. A second too long.

“Did I fuck you dumb? I said give me your fucking phone.” 

Wooyoung’s voice was quiet and low, but the viciousness cut through deadlier than any raised voice. He had forgotten how softly he spoke to him. It was almost enough to make Beomseok forget just how much carnage his hands could cause.

Beomseok snapped to action, jerkily pulling open the bedside drawer and fished out his phone. Wooyoung plucked it from his hand and typed before calling, then handing it back to Beomseok. 

“There.” Beomseok looked down with a sinking feeling, seeing Wooyoung’s name flashed on the screen. “And don’t even think about blocking me.” 

Beomseok sniffled, realizing that this nightmare would be his new reality and nodded. Wooyoung continued to stare flatly at him before he got up with a grunt and lit a new cigarette.

“You wouldn’t want your daddy to see any of your pics, do you, princess?” 

At the threat, Beomseok’s head snapped towards him, looking more alert than he did the whole night. Wooyoung’s smirk was cruel as he held up his phone and the lewd sounds of skin on skin poured from the speakers. The unfamiliar sound of his own moans brought chills down his spine. The marks on his wrist burned, invisible shackles binding them to the other boy. 

Beomseok was so out of it he didn’t even notice Wooyoung had taken a video. 

Beomseok let his gaze fall in defeat and nodded wordlessly. Wooyoung grinned, stretching with a satisfied groan before he retrieved his socks and shoes. Before he left, he turned and walked over to Beomseok who tensed as he approached. He flinched, eyes automatically squeezing shut when he felt a heavy hand on the back of his neck and a fleeting kiss at the swollen corner of his lip. 

Beomseok gasped, lashes fluttering as Wooyoung left his side and waved without looking back. “This was good. Let’s do this again, princess.” He bid him goodbye like this was a normal hook-up.  

The door shut, clicking softly and the room groaned as it settled in on itself, with Beomseok left to pick up the pieces of himself still laying broken around him.