geutelim2311
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Summary
“My sweet, cute boy,” Minho coos, and he means it. Jisung looks so cute like this, squirming and crying in sensitivity as his cum rapidly dries on his skin.
Jisung whimpers painfully. “Please… No more… Can’t take it.”
“You can and you will.”
Jisung shakes his head. He tries to move his hips away from the neverending vibrations, but Minho’s hand on his middle makes it impossible with his current lack of strength. Under his hand, Minho can feel Jisung’s entire body trembling, almost like it’s vibrating.
He almost feels bad, almost.
“Minho, please stop… I feel, hah, like I’m… gonna, ah, break!”
“Cry if it hurts so much, then,” Minho says callously.
And cry, Jisung does, but not the crocodile tears from earlier. He cries hard and real now. All his stress, anxiety, and pain accumulated from daily life manifests into the fat tears rolling down his face in quick succession.
This is exactly what Jisung needed, Minho knows. A few times a year, he just needs to be tortured to this point, to the point of sobbing.