Loathing Love: Lucky Loser (Pt. 1)

Male Reader x Kang Hyewon, Kwon Eunbi

Length: 4064 words

Tags: angsty smut, cheating, doggy, rough fingering, frustration sex, creampie, stresstoy!Hyewon

TW: cheating, hate-sex, cursing at idol

Inspiration: "Mr. Brightside" by The Killers

Credit: @worldsover​ and @midnightdancingsol​ for editing! Thanks for your time and effort!

Part 2: Loathing Love: Liable Lady is out!

“…destiny is calling me / Open up my eager eyes / Cause I’m Mr. Brightside.”

Rotate your wrist by forty-five degrees, and both the engine of your car and the music of the radio go quiet. The latter still resonates in your mind as you grab your suitcase and leave the car. You pay no further attention to the door; it’s used to your little bursts of frustration after years of usage.

Usually, you would describe your work days as excellent: A calm and funny boss, humble and earnest co-workers, and a serene and pleasant atmosphere. They all combine to create a tremendous work environment on most days.

But those days are quickly over when a project is urgent and of utmost importance. Then your boss turns into a furious beast, co-workers you consider friends scream vicious remarks and whine constantly, and your desk might as well be seated in the depths of hell.

It has been one of those weeks, so all you want on this Friday night is to lay on the couch, your fiancé cuddling you, while a blanket wraps both of you like a burrito. You would only get up to grab a box of ice cream and turn the TV on for anything funny or light-hearted. She’ll probably constantly steal your spoon and eat at least two-thirds of the ice cream on her own, like usual—it would be okay though, because there is nothing in the world that you love more.

How fast can a world come crashing down?

Let’s try three seconds:

One to open the front door just a crack, your voice ready to greet your lover. Because of the stressful day, it’s stuck in the back of your throat. 

Another to hear a terrifying combination of slapping, moaning, and creaking. 

Then the third for you to process and understand the situation. Rush to the bedroom.

“Eunbi—what the fuck is going on!?”

The sheets you paid for, the bed you worked hard for, the woman you wanted to marry—all are ruined by this fucking random guy grabbing your future wife’s hair while taking her from behind like a dog. It makes Eunbi moan her response:

“B-Babe, I can explain—oh fuck, oh yes, oh God.”

Tears dwell in your eyes while the tiny red organ in your chest bleeds. Each thrust into her is a punch that breaks you further. Knees turn to butter, softened by the incredible heat these to fuck-bunnies emit.

“S-Stop fucking my girl! Eunbi, s-say something about—.”

The bitch does not even look at you; instead, she buries her face harder into the mattress to muffle her noisy moans of pleasure. With her ass higher than her head and the former now turned to her newfound love, she responds.

“S-Sorry, babe. I—fuck, so good—I didn’t want you to find out like this.”

Your stomach twists itself—these guts of yours might as well be outside your body. A sweaty hand grabs the door frame to hold you steady. Rivers of tears stain your cheeks, then your shirt.

“E-Eunbi, please. Stop. Why?”

The first time your fiancee looks at you. In this moment you see the answer in her eyes: For one part guilt, there is ten parts of unbridled lust. You feel like puking.

“B-Babe—right there, yes, fuck—p-please l-leave, okay? S-Sorry, I’ll call y—fuck, I’m cumming! So big, oh God, so big!”

That’s it. More than you could possibly take. Your broken heart finds new life in the wake of self-hatred. The melting knees turn to steel and hot and slick hands form ice cold fists. With thunderous steps you run outside, to the tune of Eunbi’s screams, feeling of absolute failure creeping in further with each note she sings. Jump into the car—revving engine and screeching tires do nothing to drown out the slaps of pelvis hitting ass in your ears. Maybe the radio would help drown it out.

“Jealousy / Turning saints into the sea / Swimming through sick lullabies…”

Still the same song, or are you going insane?

With 150 on the road, ignoring all road signs, you might as well already be.

It’s a good thing that this neighborhood is so secluded. No children, no cars, no cunts—just pure, wet asphalt in front of you, with nothing to dodge. 

Too bad you can’t commit to more than 160 since the next junction is just too close. Black marks on gray pavement, after you hit the break.

You hate your existence, because it’s not enough for her, as you drive towards a sordid district with run-down taverns and dubious nightclubs. Hate your mouth, because it was not enough to tell her your love, as you stumble out of the car and almost onto the street. Hate your job, because it never made you rich enough to earn her, as you push aside pedestrians to walk to a bar with jazz music. Hate your body, because it was not enough to satisfy her hidden desires, as you settle on a bar stool and raise your hand.

“The strongest drink you have, please.” Not a nice way to greet somebody. 

The young bartender looks intimidated. “Uhm, we have Tennessee Whisky, sir—Jack Daniels.”

“I’ll take two.”

“A-Are you sure, sir?”

You slam a flat hand on the dark wooden counter, all eyes on you. “Yes. I had a terrible day. No questions. Just liquor.”

A gulp, then a nod—not a minute later, amber-colored liquid travels from glasses to your esophagus down into the depths of your rearranged guts. Not literally but figuratively. Literal is only the alcohol, burning in your throat, a well-deserved pain. This is your punishment for being a fucking loser and terrible husband material for Eunbi. Willingly, you try to take another flagellation, but a soft hand stops your fingers from ordering seconds.

“Come on, what the hell?”

“I think that’s enough for you.” Her voice is so caring, yet you don’t even acknowledge her with a glance.

“Are you my mother? Leave me alone.”

“I know the bartender. He will not give you another shot if I tell him to.” She sounds serious, but the soothing gentleness never leaves her voice. It’s like a soft, timid embrace. 

Finally, you look over your shoulder at her. “Who are you? And why the fuck are you annoying me!?”

“Because I’ve seen dozens of guys like you. They don’t end up in a good place, you know? I want to be there for you.”

A hand on your shoulder. You jolt. “I don’t know you, okay? And you don’t know me. Go away.”

“Hyewon—now you know me. I’ll order us something, not as strong, if you still want to drink. Or we can just talk.”

With a heavy sigh, you turn towards her, inspecting her thoroughly for the first time since she started talking to you. A gorgeous-looking woman in a cute pink dress that reveals her smooth shoulders, both hands resting on the counter and leaning towards you. Long strands of straight, brown hair travel down her back, and your eyes follow. Hyewon’s hips—poorly covered by the end of the short dress—make her look curvy and those juicy thighs add to her sexiness.

“D-Do whatever.”

This is not the time to lust over some random beauty in a filthy bar, this is the time to cry over your lost relationship into the hard liquor. But whatever Hyewon ordered—with her raised hand and puppy face she looks adorable—it is not hard, just some colorful, quickly-shaken cocktail.

“That one has only a little alcohol and a tangy sweetness.”

“It looks like a unicorn shit in the glass. And what’s with all this colorful crap?”

Swirly straw, seashell green umbrella, slice of lime—you drop them on the counter and—while seeing Hyewon’s shocked face in the corner of your eye—you down the whole glass in one go. With only shards of ice left, you lower it back down. Hyewon’s features soften, and with a reserved smile she asks:

“Does it taste good?”

“It’s sweet.”

You gulp as tears form and start to blur your vision. Her smile grows worried.

“It’s spicy, but not too much. It’s colorful. It’s fun. I-I love it.”

Then all dams break. The overflow of your tear ducts shows the emotions you tried to suppress since the conversation started. The pillar of your comfort, the laughter to your joke, the heart in your chest—she chose someone else. You never even considered cheating on her. Why would you? She is perfect. Yet you could never be this for her.

A soft hand strokes your hair while you bury your puffy face deeper into your crossed arms on the counter. It’s not enough to hide the sobbing and wailing that constantly streams out of you. No more holding back.

“Just let it all out. Take another one, if you like it.”

Hyewon hands you her drink and without a second of contemplation, you down it as well. You’re not sure if there is even any alcohol in this mixture of red, blue and green, but something about it has a similar effect like chocolate: It makes you happy—or less sad, to be specific.

“C-Can I get another one?”

“Sure. If you talk a little, I might even pay for them.”

Hyewon smirks. It’s infectious, but yours is filled with sorrow and mourning. With the cold, slippery surface of number three in your hand, you give the beauty what she wants.

“I—fuck it. Today, work was shit. I got home, and when I open the door I—”

The other hand, which is not occupied with holding the glass balls to a fist while dangling at your side. The scene from before, replayed in your head without mercy, leaves you speechless. Telling Hyewon exposes your weaknesses, your insecurities.

With incredible care, she takes your clamping hand in her own and loosens one finger, then another, until it’s open. Your breathing gets slow, calm even—you didn’t notice how hectic it was during your crying session.

“What happened?” Hyewon asks, her voice a whisper, almost too quiet to pick up.

“My wife—my fiancée, b-but she was my wife basically—she g-gets fucked by this guy. She—fucking hell—she just tells me to leave. She didn’t even stop, or hide her moans, fuck no.”

Before your hand goes back to be a fist, the beautiful woman presses her thumbs lightly into the palm. With her eyes on said hand, she hisses: “How dare she.”

“No, no.” You wave it off, then take a little sip. “It’s on me. She is so perfect, I didn’t deserve her. I was probably to engulfed in work or failed getting her gifts or maybe in bed—”

The small yet pointy fingernails of Hyewon’s thumbs dig into your flesh. You wince at the pain and pull your hand back, but she does not relent. Instead, she yanks it towards her like she owns it and says in a bitter, angry tone: “Why? Why are you defending her? She cheats on you, fucks another man in front of you—and you defend her? I hate it. You are blinded by love.”

“Hyewon. That hurts.”

“Sorry. But I just can’t let you hate yourself, after what she did to you.”

“But I pushed her away. I didn’t work hard enough. Or too much. I don’t know.”

“See. You fall into these lies. Stop it, please. She didn’t deserve you.”

“What are you sa—ouch.”

“Let me see. Your face is quite handsome.”

She caresses your cheek, and you see her gaze stop on your jaw and lips, a small glisten in her eyes. After being frozen for a second, you start to blush. Hyewon stays unfazed and starts to touch your belly.

“You have a great body, with nice abs, broad shoulders—even your legs are trained.”

Both of her hands stop at your knees, and she moves closer to you, her hot breath hitting your sweaty collarbone. Words—you try to grasp them, to no avail—are insufficient to describe the mixture of feelings in your brain. Hyewon has her way of swaying you to one side, as you lock eyes.

“Think about it. Whose car is parked outside?”

“M-Mine.”

“And who owns the home you live in?”

“I own the house.”

“Who goes to work from dawn till dusk?”

“I do.”

“And you still believe that it was okay—natural, even—that she cheated on you, in your house, after you worked your butt off?”

Chaos in your head as her lips inch closer. There is fury, sadness, and a deeply-rooted frustration in her eyes. It’s like they copy and paste to yours, although this feeling of guilt still remains, and it might grow if those soft-looking lips touch yours.

But it does not happen. A sigh instead, probably at the lack of a response. Hyewon spins around, gets up from her stool, and walks off—yanking and pulling you with her all throughout. Her high-heels clank on the wooden planks and the jazz you have not really noticed until now gets dampened by the first door, then it starts to fade as you make your way down a hallway.

“H-Hyewon… uhm. Where are we going?”

“To my room. I can’t stand you having your viewpoint completely fucked up by this evil bitch.” Her cold, heartless tone scares you.

“Hey! She isn’t—” 

She turns around. Any coldness in her eyes melts in the form of tears. A weak punch to your chest, but it somehow acts like the start to your heart beating faster and faster. Instinctively, your arms wrap around her frame, her sizable mounds pressing into you. “You got cucked so hard. W-why are you still making excuses?” Her reproachful whimper makes you tense.

“I—fuck, I don’t know.”

“You should have punched him, punched her. D-Do you like it? Getting cucked?”

“Fuck no!”

The sound when Hyewon opens the door finally starts a realization in your sadness-filled mind. And with each step you follow the beauty into the room, sorrow and agony turn to fury and hatred. Your vision blurs, only hazy pictures of you sitting next to Hyewon on a bed, while her face turns from teary to confused to worried. The touch of her hand rubbing you back jolts you back to reality before you drift off into the unknown.

“Are you okay? You seem… completely absent-minded.”

“How could she do this to me? This fucking whore!”

Your quick hands try to tear the sheets to shreds, your head starts fuming, and your thoughts only search for the answer to this lingering question: How can you get revenge on Eunbi?

Luckily, Hyewon seems to be the perfect tool for this endeavor. With sultry eyes, a lusty smirk, a longing moan, her hands go underneath your shirt and travel across your torso. Although your fingers hastily grab her dress and bunch it up above her hips, you hesitate. Hot air from her mouth and nose brushes at your chin as she looks up at you.

“Do you want this, Hyewon?”

“Wrong question. Do you want this?”

One quick pull upwards is your answer. Hyewon’s barely-covered body easily rivals Eunbi’s: Her tits are voluptuous and perky, her midriff looks trained and delicious, and her thighs feel round and creamy. Without realizing it, you have already dug into them to lift the smaller woman up and throw her onto the bed.

After a sigh, Hyewon crawls back and unbuckles your belt while your shirt is recklessly thrown towards the closed doors. Thank the inventor of doors for giving you privacy, thank the inventor of beds for making this comfortable, and thank god for the gorgeous woman, filled with lust.

Before Hyewon can even remove your boxers, a skilled hand finds its way into her soaked panties. And with each vicious rub across her drenched folds, she squirms and digs her nails into your shoulders. Your soon-to-be-wife would definitely notice—if there was even a chance—and she should. This is your attempt at getting back at her.

“Fuck! Your fingers—just your fingers are so good, oh God!”

Leaving your bulged-out boxers alone, Hyewon’s arms wrap around your neck. Her tongue hangs out of her mouth, while her eyes try to focus on your face, but as soon as you push two fingers inside her still-hidden cunt, they roll into the back of her head.

You can’t resist her mouth though. A couple of sucks at her tongue, then you invade her second hole for the night. Most of her body goes limp and she sinks into the pillows, but you are here to make her tense by going faster. The obscene sound of a pussy hitting the palm of a hand drowns out whatever moans escape the girls while you stuff her mouth and explore it thoroughly. Then a well-timed rub at her clit, and she explodes.

“Ah—fuck, fuck—I’m cumming! Oh my God, help, just your hand, so good!”

It would have been better if you had stayed in her mouth; Hyewon is only able to scream profanities and senseless sentences. As a punishment, you don’t stop your movements, focusing on her swollen nub. Her back arches, and with half-lidded orbs, she tries to beg, because her mouth can only utter:

“There, fuck me, fuck, so good! My s-slutty hole, fuck!”

Hair all across her face. The sweat from the rough finger-fucking makes it stick from temple to tits, and the latter should finally be exposed, you decide. All it takes is one strong yank, and the luxurious-looking piece of clothing is out of your sight. The new sight is infinitely better anyways: two massive melons with dark pink areolae and stiff nipples bounce every time you pick up the pace.

“God, they are enormous!”

A light squeeze, then a strong suck, and with a third finger inside her to rub all over her walls, the overstimulation is complete. Rapid spasms are inevitable, just like slickness increasing on your hand.

“A-Again! Cum—God!”

For a moment you think that she might never stop fidgeting and squirming, but after seemingly-infinite seconds, her orgasm subsides. Your fingers left the hole long ago, and they took the completely-unusable garment between her milky thighs with them. Hyewon, dazed and visibly incapable of thinking normal thoughts, tugs tightly at the hem of your boxers and pulls them down.

“Wow. S-So big.”

She is utterly mesmerized; her head moves closer to it like it’s a magnet. However, fucking her upper orifice is not what you want. Sure, pumping into her mouth until you cum down her throat, and fill her tummy would be incredible, but you want to take her like that son of a bitch fucked Eunbi.

“Get on all fours. Ass towards me!”

The demands reach her ears, but she is unable to follow up properly: too strong was the overstimulation, so you grab her and adjust her according to your vision of revenge before pushing into her naturally-lubed pussy. No warning; just force.

“Ha—oh hell, ouch—so h-h-huge!”

Hyewon’s arms crumble and now, she is just a hole up high, impaled by a furious length. It spreads her wide and leaves her painfully gasping. Your viewpoint leaves you in gasps as well: gasps of lust. Hyewon’s ass, her back, her hair—all look seductive, and so you spank, you rub, you grab.

Everything is animalistic. The movement of your rod is merciless, just like Eunbi was merciless with you. The release of all your hatred beats the actual feeling of velvety breeding walls around your cock, brutally tight and almost scorching. Hyewon is reduced to only making grunts, moans and the occasional “Fuck. Ah, fuck!”

Nothing can pull you out of this mindless frenzy.

Nothing can make you stop this irrational experience.

Nothing can make you not fuck her raw.

Nothing, except for the ring-tone of your cell phone—for some reason, it’s loud enough to hear through all sexual sounds.

“I’m coming out of my cage, and I’ve been doing just fine…”

A morbid curiosity makes you pull out your cock and pick up your phone. Eunbi’s name is still framed with two hearts, and her gorgeous profile pic tries to pierce into your heart as the phone rumbles violently.

Should you answer her?

No.

No way in hell you won’t.

“Hyewon, I’ll fuck you through this call. Try not to scream, ‘kay?”

Let the show begin.

“Eunbi? You there?”

“B-Babe, I—I’m sorry. I, I didn’t want y-you to find out this way.”

“Find out what? And why are you crying?”

“I—sorry, I fucked up. I w-wanted to t-tell you that I f-feel like…”

“Eunbi, get your fucking act together. Stop crying.”

“Huh? Babe? Y-You are so mean. A-And what is that clapping sound!?”

“Oh that? T-That is just me applauding you—fuck—for finally speaking your true feelings. Say it! Say you don’t love me anymore!”

“No, that’s not it, I—”

“Liar! You fucking bitch, how dare you? I—fuck, so good—I tell you something: I never r-really loved you. I only wanted to fuck your body, see your tits bounce, thighs wiggle, and ass ripple, while I take you—fuck!”

Hyewon is long paralyzed—at least from your point of view—when you cum buckets and paint her white from the inside. Pent up sperm is released through your hard rod, and pent-up frustration is released through your hard words. It makes Eunbi sob, and it’s like you can hear the tears creep down her perfect cheeks and hit the phone screen.

“No! Y-You don’t mean that!”

“I-I mean it! And that new guy—I saw in his smirk that he doesn’t love you. He will drop you. And just like I did just now, he will break all promises and fuck another woman.”

Eunbi’s sobs are replaced by loud wailing and agonizing screams that penetrate your heart and so your penetration stops. A million different phrases are stuck in the back of your throat: you want to curse at her, tell her you hate her, tear her soul apart, but you can’t. There is still love for this smaller woman, and it bursts forth in the form of tears in your eyes.

“I-I should hate you. I should leave you. M-Maybe I should even hurt you. But I can’t. Eunbi, I…”

Her screams stop. For a second, just the suction of air into lungs, be they rapid after steamy sex or arrhythmic after a heartbreak, can be heard. It’s like the world stopped moving just for you two to think. 

A hoarse voice, filled with guilt, calls out through the speaker:

“P-Please, my love. Please f-forgive me! I’d do a-anything, don’t leave me, please!”

“I—I hate, love, hate—Eunbi, fuck you. I—”

Suddenly, the call ends. A slender finger pressed the red button. The same finger seals your lips before you can protest. Hyewon’s face is getting close to yours, wobbly knees and legs trying to push her up to your posture. She is still glowing, and it suits her face perfectly.

“Enough. Don’t overdo it. Look at your face, all messed up.”

She wipes across your cheeks, her soft touch making you hiss for some reason. Both of you sink into the snug mattress, her arms around you, your arms idle and lifeless.

“I bet you didn’t enjoy this as much as I did.”

“Hyewon. Thanks. I’m such a fuck up.”

“You definitely got drama on your hands, but there is nothing that can not be fixed, alright?”

“But—ugh, it all fucking sucks! The feeling of leaving or loving tears me apart—I can’t stand it.”

“I got a plan that can maybe fix that: go back to your girlfriend. If it works out, you forget that this happened, and if we accidentally meet again, I’m just a drink-and-karaoke buddy. If it doesn’t work out, meet me here and we will figure it out. There will always be a pussy you can creampie.”

She straddles your thigh with her hot cunt, the remainder of your orgasm still dripping out.

“Sounds good?”

“Okay.”

 You pat her head and kiss her temple gently. 

“Thank you, Hyewon.”