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“Dejun, what the fuck?” Yangyang’s laugh rattles through Dejun’s headset. This is one of his flatter laughs, a fake one to make the viewers think he’s a fun, chill guy and doesn’t take competitive Overwatch very seriously. If they weren’t streaming, Yangyang would be spewing profanities until Dejun mutes him on Discord. He really wants to say: “God, you piece of shit. That was the worst fucking ult I’ve seen in my damn life. I told you to play Genji you absolute fuckbucket.”
Okay, so Dejun’s Bob just ran right off the edge of the map. Now the objective is being pushed by the other team, two of their teammates just died, and that ult could’ve been a big help. Embarrassing. Twelve thousand viewers just watched him fuck a whole round over.
And this is all Hendery’s fault! Okay, a little bit Dejun’s fault since he agreed a thousand times yes to do this. But mostly Hendery’s fault. He was the one who bent Dejun over the edge of his bed and stuffed him with fingers and lube and a vibrator before the Twitch stream. He was also the one who turned the vibrator on as soon as Dejun’s ultimate was ready, making Dejun panic and accidentally jam the pad of his finger against his Q key.
Now, he’s almost vibrating along with the device in his ass. Just having it in there, still and rubbing against Dejun’s walls when he changed his posture, making his ears burn with the thought that he and his viewers might’ve just heard the wet noise of it shifting against his rim and pushing lube out, it was dangerous and a massive fucking turn on. Not to mention what would happen if his webcam fell like it tends to do sometimes, when he bangs his elbow on the desk or slams his fist against it in a fit of video game induced rage. That would show the viewers quite the image.
He’s wearing an oversized, light blue cardigan, unbuttoned with the neckline resting at the crooks of his elbows, soft fabric bunched up his forearms. His collarbones, defined enough to warp the dainty silver chains around his neck, are on full display thanks to the spaghetti straps of his white silk slip. He needs to look nice for the viewers. It’s a money thing, and an attention whore thing. It’s why he takes half an hour perfecting his eye makeup and blush.
But under the desk, a lot more is going on. Like his cock pinkish, hard, and leaking a stain into his dress where it lies in the crook of his hip. Or the glistening leather between his legs where it’s soaked with lube, sticking to Dejun’s thighs, overall making him feel like a dirty pornstar. A dramatically horny, wet bitch of a pornstar.
And now the vibrator is giving his sweet spot a dull, unfulfilling massage and he wants this to end so he can get his hand around his cock.
The chat is flooding with comments like “it’s okay bbg, ur still pogchamp” and “shit at games but still hot af tho” and “you guys are actually watching the game? my eyes are somewhere else!” SIMPs, SIMPs, and more SIMPs. The worship makes him glow, but not as much as the comments that make him feel like more of a pretty thing to look at than a real gamer. He’s totally a real gamer, but he likes to be berated when he messes up, okay?
Even so, the thousands of eyes on him right now don’t match up with the pair in the corner of the room. Hendery’s lounging over Dejun’s pile of plushies, and Dejun can feel the devilish grin without even glancing.
“Oops,” he giggles nervously, trying his best to aim at their enemies. His shaky, horny hand messes up again and he throws dynamite at a wall, successfully blowing himself up and helping the enemy team take him out. “Dammit.”
“Sheesh!” Yangyang essentially yells. “You drunk?”
“No, no.” While Dejun’s respawning, he shoots Hendery a simultaneously miserable and thirsty look. Hendery’s as expected; glaring at Dejun through his fluffy pink fringe with contrastingly sinister eyes, holding the remote in his lap with his finger over the settings dial.
Dejun’s cock hops against his hip. He can feel the cool sensation of precum spreading over his skin. Focusing on the game just became a hell of a lot harder. As did his dick.
It’s really a blur. He gets a total of two eliminations, gets eliminated at least four times, and tries to stick to the payload like a sandspur since that’s the easiest thing he can do. His brain is liquid, replaying images of Hendery finally taking this vibrator out and sliding his cock in, even while he’s still streaming, while everyone watches and Hendery marks his claim, punching the hope out of every one of those SIMPs with each thrust into Dejun’s ass. That would be hot, but highly implausible. A man can dream, can’t he?
All he can do is daydream right now, squirming in his chair and blindly shooting at any red outline he sees. He’s usually a chatterbox for the viewers, but now he’s silent, lip bitten. He doesn’t even mind the gritty, sticky texture of his glittery lipgloss and the bland taste as he presses his tongue at the back of his teeth.
The next setting sends a shockwave through his body and nearly pries a whimper out of him. He jumps in his chair, and hopefully the viewers think it’s just because he got eliminated again and not because pleasure just shot up and down his spine. His thighs even slam together with a faint clap.
The chat is suspecting something right now.
“Is he high?”
“He usually sucks but not this much.”
“Think he’s getting fucked under that desk? Lolll sus.”
“Weirdchamp.”
“Ohhh my god, dude,” Yangyang groans, unable to hide his agitation as their computers yell “defeat” at them. “You’re joking. If you make me lose one more round I’m pinging Dery.”
Dejun almost laughs at that. “Sorry. I think Hendery’s sleeping, though. He’s like an old man.” The vibrator buzzes faster and he doesn’t find anything funny anymore. He grunts under his breath.
“Probably. Actually, let’s just get a round of quick play in,” Yangyang decides. While they’re waiting for a lobby, he continues: “I’m gonna play Ashe and show Dejun how much he sucks.”
“And I’m gonna play Mercy and avoid you,” Dejun threatens. His voice is a little strained with the effort not to squirm like a drunk squirrel or whine or grind against the chair.
“I don’t need your buffs, fuckbucket.”
Dejun opens his mouth to reply, but it snaps shut, teeth clicking against each other as soon as the vibrator kicks up two more settings. The vibrations are in his damn teeth. He furrows his eyebrows and clenches the arms of his chair, fucking tearing up at how intense the vibrator is against his prostate. What the fuck kind of nuclear weapon did Hendery buy and put in Dejun’s ass? Holy fuck.
It’s so intense that he can hear it buzzing inside him. His viewers definitely can. And his jaw falls slack before he clamps his teeth shut again.
“Dude, what the? Is your phone on vibrate?”
“Yeah,” Dejun groans. “Very important call, I gotta take that.” With a shaky hand, he ends the stream, leaves the voice chat, and throws his headset onto his desk. “Fuck,” he whines, spreading his legs and moaning as soon as his palm reaches his dick.
“Didn’t say you could touch yourself. Didn’t say you could stop the stream, either,” Hendery chastises. “Come here.”
“If I didn’t stop it, they would know.”
Hendery stays silent, and that reply from him is bone-chilling. He hates it when Dejun counters.
Dejun shudders and stands on wobbly legs. Another quake of pleasure shoots through him and he hunches over, gasping when a trail of lube rolls down his inner thigh. Somehow, he manages to tumble into bed, sloppily throwing his limbs all over Hendery, one arm draped over his shoulder, the other pressed against his chest, knees on either side of Hendery’s waist.
“You poor thing,” Hendery teases. Dejun’s all squirmy on his lap, whining and feeling overall humiliated and turned on by the loud buzzing from his hind end. The vibrations feel amazing, but the pleasure is starting to become a scratch Hendery needs to itch. It’s not enough.
Hendery’s warm palms find their places on Dejun’s ass. He squeezes and Dejun melts against him.
“Hendery,” is all Dejun can stupidly slur.
“So pretty.” Hendery surges forward and gives Dejun a languid, wet kiss; mostly tongue and swallowing Dejun’s whines. His lips shimmer with spit and glitter when he pulls away. “I thought you’d do better than that. That was horrible.” He pauses, pulls Dejun closer and nibbles at his ear. “When are you just gonna get an OnlyFans, huh? You know people just watch you because they think about fucking your pretty little face. That’s all you are. Pretty hole. Useless fucktoy.”
“God,” Dejun moans, rutting against Hendery’s lap so he can get some friction between his cock and Hendery’s hoodie. “God.” Maybe the vibrator and the simple friction could be enough for Dejun to come, all thanks to Hendery’s words. Hendery is so good with words. At least, everything he says is like top notch poetry when Dejun’s in this state. Very touching. As in, touching every inch of his skin with burning desire.
“Is there even a thought in there?” Hendery releases Dejun’s asscheek to knock his knuckle against Dejun’s forehead. Before Dejun can throw a fit, his hand is back on his skin, rubbing from his thigh to his ass and back. “You’re like a little sex zombie. ‘Dick. Dick. Hendery’s godly fucking dick.’ Is that what goes on in your head?”
“Righnow, yeah!” Dejun whines. “Please.”
Dejun gets a little dizzy when Hendery leans forward and pins him on his back. Messy position, limbs tangled and Hendery’s hoodie strings assaulting Dejun’s face, but Dejun doesn’t care. He tries to pull Hendery as close as he can, and Hendery’s body weight collapses against him. Hendery lets out a cute little “oof,” and Dejun forgets he’s a like a real life sex god for just a second. Maybe half a second. Hendery’s warmth is delicious between Dejun’s thighs, and his cologne has him conditioned to salivating.
“Easy, now.” Hendery’s chest rumbles against Dejun’s own. “I’m not going anywhere.” He kisses Dejun’s neck and his hip presses against Dejun’s aching cock.
“But please. Want you.”
“Aw,” Hendery coos, scrambling into a sitting position to tug his hoodie off. “I wish all your pervert subscribers could see you like this for me. Then they’d know there isn’t a chance in hell for them, yeah?” He smooths his palms up Dejun’s hips, hiking his dress up so he can watch his abdomen stutter. Dejun knows he looks filthy right now, with precum stains on his dress and his hip, lube spread all between his thighs and soaking wet between his asscheeks. And he’s pretty sure Hendery can see how hard his asshole is vibrating, how each of his muscles twitch under the milky skin of his thighs. Hendery’s eyes linger there. He licks his lips. “Mhh. I pity them. They’ll never get to see this. My filthy, filthy cocksleeve.”
Every word zaps straight to Dejun’s core. He’s really going to lose control at this rate. His hand twitches where it rests near his leaking dick. “Only— only for you.”
“They’re pathetic, right?”
Dejun nods.
“And what are you?” Hendery chuckles lightly and tugs his sweatpants down, setting his hard cock free. “Aren’t you a SIMP? You’d do anything for my cock.”
“Yes!”
Who wouldn’t? Who the hell wouldn’t?! Dejun could pass out just from looking at it; bobbing between his legs all heavy and long, prominent veins running all over the shaft, flushed head peeking hungrily out of its foreskin. Hendery strokes himself a few times and his dick grows longer, curling a little toward the ceiling and freeing his dark pink cockhead a bit more. Dejun nearly chokes on his own drool as he watches Hendery’s foreskin roll over the ridge of his tip and clear precum drip from his slit.
“I can see the hearts in your eyes, baby.” Hendery smiles and leans over Dejun’s frame, splaying his palm over the baby pink sheet underneath them.
“You’re so hot,” Dejun mumbles, sliding his hands all over Hendery’s soft, tanned skin, his big collarbones and the rippling musculature of his shoulders and upper back.
Hendery finally pulls the vibrator out, clicks it off and tosses it aside. Dejun’s hole aches and twitches at first, missing the sensation already. But Hendery’s tip is replacing the vibrator now, and it feels like his ass is dilating like a soaking wet pussy, inviting Hendery’s cock in.
Hendery’s breath flutters against his jaw, hot and shaky as he searches for Dejun’s calves, props them onto his shoulders, pushes forward to fold Dejun in half. Then his cock plunges into Dejun’s heat in one quick stroke and Dejun yells: “fuck!”
Hendery’s a lot bigger than the vibrator. A lot warmer, too. This is what Dejun needs; to feel stuffed deep with nothing but pulsing, hot Hendery.
“Oh, yeah,” Hendery sighs, grinding his hips in small circles against Dejun’s ass. “Good. Railed you so many times, but your slutty fuckhole is still so tight.”
“Maybe you need to fuck me harder, then?” Dejun breathes. He grabs Hendery’s forearms prematurely and digs crescents into his skin with his nails. Bracing himself. He knows what comes after he says something like that.
“Uhhuh?” Hendery draws his hips back and— fuck. Yeah. His next thrust is so hard that the bed shifts on its frame and Dejun cries out in what sounds like pain but definitely isn’t. Well, maybe a little, but it’s mostly fuck fuck fuck that’s so good. And Hendery does it again. And again. And he manages to fuck Dejun farther into his memory foam mattress with each punch of his hips.
He gets faster and everything is suddenly searing hot and blurry. The hair curling at Dejun’s nape is soaking wet with sweat now, and he can feel more sweat building on his upper lip and his temples, a lot of it between his thighs, working with the lube to have Hendery’s hips sliding between them so fucking fast without starting an actual fire. So much liquid, everywhere, he can’t tell if there are actually tears rolling down his temples right now because of how good it feels. Wouldn’t be the first time Hendery fucked him so good he cried.
If there’s anything he can hear over his enamored exclamations of “yes!” and “so deep” and “uaaah,” whatever that means, it’s the filthy sound of his ass clapping wetly against Hendery’s hips, the even filthier suction sound of Hendery’s cock making music with Dejun’s rim and the lube drooling down his balls, and the straight up heavenly sound of Hendery’s soft sighs and grunts.
Dejun’s dick isn’t even being touched, bouncing against his stomach, rock hard and fading into pink at the tip, but he can feel his orgasm creeping up on him. “Hen— ah, ah— Hen. Dery. Gonna! Fuck!”
“Gohead,” Hendery slurs, letting one of Dejun’s legs slip down his bicep so he can get to Dejun’s lips.
Dejun comes undone as soon as Hendery’s tongue flicks into his mouth, trying his best not to bite Hendery’s tongue off when he screams into the kiss. His dress is ruined for sure now, covered in the cum that’s also wetting his abdomen and his inner thigh.
Dejun’s ass, hips, and stomach are throbbing when it’s over. A few of his muscles are going to twitch for the next hour, and his legs are a lost cause, tingling, almost numb boiled spaghetti noodles. He pants as his body goes limp, letting Hendery use him as a true sex toy until he, himself, comes, groaning into Dejun’s neck like he’s dying and spilling buckets of hot, wet cum into Dejun’s ass.
He pulls out and collapses all his sexy weight onto Dejun again, all sticky and breathing heavy. “You look a mess.” Hendery drags his thumb under Dejun’s eye and lifts it up to show the wet, glittery, black smudge on it. “Still pretty, though.” He wipes it off on Dejun’s thigh but he’s too spent to complain.
“Heavy,” Dejun wheezes, shoveling Hendery to his side and turning to curl against his chest. “You’re really good at sex, babe. Like, marry me.”
Hendery snickers, lifting his hand to card it through Dejun’s hair. “Cute.”
Okay. Call Dejun a SIMP for following through with something as stupid as using a vibrator during a stream just for Hendery, but hell, was this an epic gamer moment.
And he will definitely do it again. Sorry Yangyang.