Warnings: oof alright so. Extreme sadomasochism, human ashtray/burning fetish (if that’s a thing idk), dacryphilia, use of drugs, rimming/oral (reader receiving), anal play, just a lot of intense stuff, and Jeno and the reader are both just absolute freaks let be honest.
please read warnings. alright this is definitely not as intense as some things i’ve seen but I do think it’s probably the most intense thing i’ve posted maybe??? maybe not i’ve written some weird things. but yes seriously don’t ignore warnings.
“And you’re a hundred percent sure you want me to do this?” His fingers press into the flesh of your ass, waiting until you turn your head to the side and gently nod against the bedding, “It’s gonna hurt pretty bad.”
“I know,” you sigh out, almost dreamily. Your thighs spread wider across his lap as you sink lower onto your stomach, “I just really do think I’ll like it, but you don't have to do it if you don't want to.”
“I think thats the issue,” he huffs, bringing the shortening roach to his lips and taking a pull that’s probably just burnt, useless bud at this point, but at least doing something that will focus his thoughts, “I want to do it so fucking bad.”
“So you do want to burn me, Jeno?” You ask in a tone that turns more taunting, your hips shifting back and forth as a minuscule part of you hopes he sticks the burning paper and ash to you by accident, “Why? Wanna see me cry or something?”
Yes. The answer to that was yes. He didn’t even need to verbalize because you knew if there was one thing Jeno loved to do, it was to make you cry.
Yes. The answer to that was yes. He didn’t even need to verbalize because you knew if there was one thing Jeno loved to do, it was to make you cry.
“You’re high,” he says with a stressed and quiet laugh, as if the cotton-like feeling behind your eyes and under your tongue would let you forget that fact, “fuck, I’m high too so I don’t know…”
“Better I’m high than stone cold sober,” you say, more so just speaking out loud, “probably will hurt less if I’m high and I can ease into the pain if we ever do something like this sober.”
It probably would have also never been brought up in the first place if I wasn’t high, you add in your head. The idea of letting your boyfriend purposefully put a joint out on your skin comes from a lot of pain kink exploration and a stranger from twitter with too much time and imagination on their hands. Would it be the first time Jeno has caused you physical pain in the name of sexual release? Absolutely not even close, but it was a pretty intense request you suppose.
He drums his fingers against your ass again a few times, falling into a quick rhythm as you can tell he’s getting more excited about the idea than he’d ever admit. The thick paper of the filter scrapes against your skin as he does so, making your heart thump at the idea of the other end taking its place against your sensitive flesh.
“Do you want me to count to three?” He finally asks, making your breath catch in your throat.
“No… I think I’d rather it take me by surprise.”
“Ah okay cool…”
There’s a heavy silence afterwards, both of you simmering in ideas of how it could become a surprise now.
“Hold this,” he mutters, putting the dwindling joint between your teeth and letting you puff on it just enough to keep the angry fire at the end alive. Once his hands are free he starts to make work of your underwear, the only remaining fabric on your body, similarly to the thin pair of boxer briefs that clings to the narrow hips of the boy behind you. Something about getting high alone with him always results in some shedding of clothes, whether the night ends in sex or not, as you presume hot boxing a room with your partner would make you want to be as uncovered as possible.
He pushes your feet against your thighs for a moment, bending your knees so he can wiggle on your underwear without making you get off his lap. It takes a moment, the fabric getting caught around your knees and then your toes, but once they’re off he throws them unceremoniously on the floor.
“Fuck,” he mutters to himself once he catches sight of the wet heat between your thighs, a sigh of your own following once you catch how deep his voice drops.
He seems to forget briefly about the joint between your teeth as his hands start to wander. His thumbs get so close to where you’d wanted him since the weed reached your brain, and with a quiet sticking noise, he pulls at your skin to watch your arousal drip from your body.
A sudden feeling washes over you as he stares and watches you like it's the first time he’s ever seen you, and without thinking you squirm and let out a whine to remind him there is in fact a human in charge of the body underneath his twitching hands. A very impatient human at that.
“I can take that back,” he huffs, reaching for the roach that still rests in your mouth, the whining and squirming only being partners to the drooling you started that has dampened the filter.
He takes the short roach between his fingers as carefully as he can, kissing your shoulder gently as he slowly pulls away. His mouth continues, trailing down to your shoulder blade and the side of your rib, until your ass pressing against his stomach causes too much of a wedge and he can only brush his lips against your skin like a whisper.
Once he’s back to the way he was seated, the hand holding the joint returns to your hip, and his lips join not long after. He kisses right at the crease where your ass meets your thigh and when he noses inward until he can lick at the wetness that has stuck to the inside of your thighs, you gasp.
You gasp again when his free hand travels behind him. First landing on the sole of your foot a trailing so softly up that it tickles the flesh and you involuntarily kick up. He takes the jerking movement for granted, grabbing your ankle and pushing it up until your knee is bent and your foot is wiggling against your ass in the way it was when he removed your underwear.
He uses your trapped ankle to spread your legs farther, his mouth following the movement to lick around your cunt and ignoring the way you clench around nothing.
Your hips tilt back and up, trying to take how hungrily he mouths at you as meaning he’s too lost in thought to notice if you moved your hips in the exact perfect position. But unfortunately he moves swiftly with you, licking up to the curve of your ass before he harshly sinks his teeth into the flesh.
You let out a yelp, that you think must be much louder than it actually is, and your hips start gyrating helplessly as you wish for just some form of friction.
You take his release of your ankle as a good sign, and you take the way his hands travel to your waist to pull you back until your clit brushes against the fabric covering his crotch as an even better sign. But as you're panting and grinding against the growing bulge between his thighs, you feel it.
It’s not a sudden feeling, almost like a sting of a fire ant bite or pouring antiseptic onto a paper cut. But it grows and it's hot, and before you know it you can feel the way the embers have started to scorch your flesh and smell a burning that you can only correlate to the smell of burning leather.
You let out a pathetically quiet yell, a sob wracking your chest right after and choking it before it can become too loud. Your fists twist into the sheets by your head, your skin blossoms red around the point he presses the dying joint against your skin, and tears spring to your eyes almost as quickly as the new flood of arousal spills from between your thighs.
It bites at where your ass meets your back, towards the curve of the side of your hip. You can still feel the paper sticking to you, the once concerned boy behind you enraptured now with the sights and taking his time to make sure every remaining blossom of burning red is put out and you’re left with nothing but the grey soot of ashes and a telling circular patch of raw flesh.
He tosses the crumpled paper into the floor, the sad thing landing perfectly next to your underwear. Jeno doesn’t really notice either though and his hand mirrors his other again and holds onto your waist as you body shakes and you try to catch your breath.
“Are you good?” He asks with clear concern in his voice, but it does nothing to cover how equally excited he is at the sign of your squirming pain.
“J-e-eno-o,” you stutter out as you feel like your speaking around your own heart lodged in your throat, “fuck me, fuck me please.”
He reaches out, grabbing at your elbow and tugging until you're twisted enough for him to see your face, and once he sees the tears streaming down your face he grunts. But once he follows the streaked trails up your cheeks and sees the wild look in your eyes, he’s going back to the part of you still settled and twitching in his lap as he reaches to pull your ass apart.
In the quiet of the room you can hear the sound of his tongue swishing in his mouth just barely over your panting. He leans down, kissing gently at the still stinging burn before trailing to your tailbone, until eventually he hovers enough to let the accumulated spit fall from his mouth and tail down until it hits the place of your body he’s seemed to have some form of infatuation with lately.
He’s quick to follow the trail of saliva with a pointed tip of his tongue, laying it flat once he reaches your asshole, and making you let out a rattling gasp. Similarly to the putting a joint out on your skin situation, the idea of ass play started as a joke between you two, and it’s now as he laps at your rim and dips as much as the end of it inside you, you’re starting to think joking with this boy may be dangerous.
He gets his fill, pulling away briefly a few times just to come in with quick and harsh licks, before he trails down to where you really need him.
His hands wrap around the tops of your thighs, tugging you up until your back arches and aches and your face is shoved carelessly into the mattress. But you can’t find it in yourself to care much about the degrading position he’s left you in, because after all but shoving his face into you to take in a deep breath, his lips wrap tightly around your clit.
You can feel your face heating up rapidly, and you're unsure if it’s just from the suddenly intense pleasure after such biting pain, or if it’s also because of how shameless his actions are all of the time.
“Jeno, oh my fucking god,” you choke out, reaching blindly behind you in attempt to grab at his scalp, but the way he’s detached from your clit to lay his tongue flat and shake his head rapidly side to side makes it hard to catch his wiggling head.
The way he grunts and groans into your skin is maddening, the level in which he genuinely enjoys getting you all over his tongue and face bordering on detrimental for you in a number of ways.
His arms twist under you one at a time, hooking under your hips until his hands can come up and link together against your back, letting him press you as tightly against his face as the atoms between you will allow. You’re surprised he’s yet to suffocate himself between your thighs, but both you and him seem to be enjoying it too much for you to worry about it.
His blunt nails dig into your back as harshly as he can manage when you start rocking back onto his face, grinning and groaning against your skin when you gasp in the way that tells him that fresh tears are threatening to spill over.
It hurts a lot. The way his nails scratch you, the tension in your muscles from the way he manhandles you, the way he nips and bites at you every time he pulls away for a breath, and especially the raw burn that screams from your hip. But it also feels so good, and overwhelming as the pain glides across your nerves right alongside your impending orgasm.
There’s very little warning you can give Jeno, gasping breaths and whines being almost enough, but they fall on deaf ears. He’s lost himself against you, eating at you like he’ll be able to taste the secrets of the world on his tongue, and if making you come wasn’t the end goal, he wouldn’t have started in the first place.
“God, fuck!” you choke out, your hand coming down to slap at the mattress as your back arches deeply and your toes curl as you kick your feet up beside him until they’re hitting his shoulders.
Your kicking does nothing to deter him as he licks you through the overwhelming amounts of pain and pleasure your body feels at once, and as he goes on the feeling of him pushing you past the initial beginnings of your orgasm has you gasping from a new form of ache.
You’ve gone slack in his hands, his grip on your legs being the only thing that keeps you from melting completely into the bed below you and shaking from the onslaught of stimuli. Your thighs tighten around his head, subconsciously trying to push him out and away as he hums happily as if you’ve given him his favorite treat.
He finally lets up after a moment, your constant squirming and whining become more than he can ignore. He drops you slowly back in his lap, and as if his eyes are drawn to it like a magnet, he glances at the circular burn he left on your skin.
He’s afraid to say much about it, afraid to let you know how much he really enjoyed seeing the act wrack you with burning, stinging pain. But as you lay twitching in his lap, jaw slack as you reach back to fumble with the band of his underwear, he thinks you probably did enjoy it just as much as him.
He pushes at you as gently as he can, lifting you up enough for him to shift below you until he’s sitting up on his knees. Once he's situated, you feel his hand pressing on the center of your back, forcing it to curve and bend to his liking. He leans down, letting his own body follow the curvature of yours, and when you see the soft smile he offers you from the peripheral of your blurry eyes, you find it hard to believe it’s the same man who likes to push burning joints into your skin and make you cry.
“I’m gonna fuck you,” he says. It’s not a question, but you know your ability to say no is there, “I’m gonna fuck you and make you cry even harder than that fucking joint did.”
Part of you wants to curl into a ball. The depth that his voice reached when he spoke to you shaking your insides already and making you a tad nervous along with the way you know your body will be screaming later. But a much bigger part of you, the one that wants him inside of you so bad you think you might start drooling like a rabid animal, lifts up into his body and silently begs him to get on with it.
You hear a shift of fabric, his underwear coming down just enough for him to pull himself out, before he begins to tap his tip gently against your skin. Similar to the journey his tongue took, he presses himself high up near your tailbone, dragging it down against your sensitive skin until the leaking head of his dick bumps against your clit.
You sigh for the millionth time, your shoulders sinking down as you put the rest of your strength into grinding back into him. He grunts and mutters in response, and if you were able to look back at him now you’d see him with his brow furrowed and his jaw locked and tense as he’s almost hypnotized by the magic that is your body.
The first inch of him that slides into you is a lot for the both of you to handle. For you it's always a task taking the length and size of him, feeling as if every time you're testing fate to let him split you completely in half. For him it’s a task to not knowingly split you in half. Taking his time and being patient is a foreign concept to him a majority of the time, so letting you adjust to the way he knows he stretches you to your limits is a patience he had to learn.
The way you shake as he slides in deeper and deeper has him gritting his teeth, and below him you're breathing is labored and your stomach tense. He somehow lights everyone of your nerves on fire every single time, and when he grapples at your body to help you sink down further, and his finger simply brushes against your newly crafted wound, you let out a shuttering gasp that’s perfectly mixed with pain, shock, and arousal.
He shushes you, rubbing his hands down your back, and mutters things that have you debating whether or not he touched the burn on purpose. But your internal debate is short lived, as he’s now seated fully inside you and has started to shallowly rock against you.
“You say stop and I’ll stop, you know the drill,” and he’s right, you do. Your agreed upon safe word sticking back to your mind, but you can’t find anything in you that even considers muttering it, “but until then I”m having my way with you.”
“Jeno,” you start, turning your face again in an attempt to give him soft eyes and a dopey smile, “please I need you so bad. You hurt me so good.”
You see his Adam’s apple bob even with how fuzzy your vision has gotten, your words getting to him but also causing a mean smile to pull across his lips. His hands tighten against your skin, rough enough that you can already feel bruises forming under his touch, and he shifts you around like a doll until you’re flush against him.
The first thrust he delivers knocks the wind from you, a pitched gasp falling from your lips as you flutter around him. Every thrust is sharp and unrelenting, making you feel every inch, bump, and curve of him inside you.
Your mouth falls open, no longer closer like it was earlier when you were mindlessly babbling, but instead just making way for long strings of moans and hiccups and he does exactly as he promised, and has his way with your crumbling body.
The first of his hands to move was jarring but more simple to handle. It slowly slips up your back, kneading at your shoulders as if to comfort you, before he pushes against the back of your neck and leans his weight into it to hold you down. You cough, and let out a small gurgling noise before your body and muddled mind finally just lands on a pathetic whine.
His second hand doesn’t move as far, but it does move more cautiously. You feel him leaning back, slowing his thrusts for only a second to give him space to drop another mouthful of spit on down onto your ass. And as it drips against your skin, you feel him brush his thumb through it until he presses the digit deep into you.
He uses the leverage having his thumb pressed into you gives him to force you back against his hips. Your face digs deep into the sheets below you, and you feel the fabric start to dampen with your saliva.
Your tears had dried up in the process of everything, but when you feel the fingers he has splayed out, stretching across your ass to your hip, you feel fresh ones welling up ready to help your drooling mouth in soaking the bed.
The first brush of his fingers feels like an accident. The quick sharp sting makes you gasp and twitch in the opposite direction of his touch. But the next time you have no choice but to acknowledge what he’s doing.
His middle finger lays on the raw little irregular circle, testing how tender it is and the way that touching it makes you react. The way you jump, the sad little cry you left out, and mostly the way you clench down hard around his rapidly moving length has him biting harshly down on his tongue.
It’s perfect, he thinks. His own little button to get you to react the way he always wants you to. In pathetic, sniveling, and lustful pain.
After a touch comes another, and another. Both brief and teasing, until he finally lets his middle and ring finger both press into the burn and the surrounding tender flesh, holding down hard with a flex to the muscles in his fingers and palm until you’re screaming out with tears rolling down your cute swollen cheeks.
He finds another function of the button he’s created in your skin not long after. Your body shivers almost violently as your legs collapse and you lay limp and flat on your stomach. Your thighs close tightly together, but not tight enough to stop him from continuously drilling into you as you come around him, your hips moving in a way that lets him know you’ve found a way to get friction on your neglected clit.
He uses the spent position your body lies in to angle himself more down, letting his hips bounce off your skin and his hands push harder into your body. And all that you let out is a long overwhelmed whine that gets broken up by his thrusts.
You almost want to reach your hand back again to rip his hands away. Not as much from your neck, or from pushing his thumb in and out of you along with his thrusts, but from the way his fingers circle the small wound in a way so similarly to the way they circle your clit.
But you don’t. And you find yourself truly not wanting to. It hurts so badly, the pain almost blinding and making your chest heave with sobs, but it also sends shocks through your body in a way you’ve never felt before in your life and you feel yourself climbing a dangerous cliff towards another orgasm.
His lip is turning almost as raw as your burn and your throat, his teeth gnawing at it recklessly as the way your body sucks him in has his brain turning to liquid in his skull. He feels his lower belly tensing up and he knows he’s only moments away from coming alongside you.
It’s a race to the finish. His body is a much more active participant than your own, but he loves it that way. The way you turn limp, like your body is made of jelly fills his warming chest with pride, and the way you weakly rock your hips back while you quietly and incoherently beg for mercy is enough for him to know you're enjoying every second.
“Need you to come one last time,” he begs, sounding almost as desperate as you at this point as he leans closer to your ear, “c’mon show me how good you are and how much you love to be hurt.”
Your fist starts to wiggle down, almost as if it’s been reanimated and reminded that it has muscles and bones. You shove it tightly under your hips as they get shoved into the mattress by his, and once you get close enough that you can cover your aching clit with a few fingers, you let out a deep sigh of relief.
The hand he has twisted around your neck turns, flipping it over until it envelopes the front of your neck and presses against the sides. His grip is tight, immediately cutting off the blood flow to your head and making you feel dizzy. And it's this, plus the weak flicking you do against your clit, that sends you over the edge for the last time.
The garbled noises you let out are almost inhuman, only some hints of begging and pleading making its way through as your body tenses and relaxes over and over. The feeling of his fingers digging into the burn becomes less and less evident as the pleasure blinds you and has your eyes fluttering and rolling back.
Jeno hits his finish only a beat or two after. His stomach flexes as his belly button reaches for his spine and his shoulders curve in. He only gets a few more thrusts in, a few more digs into your burn and neck, before he collapses against you. His orgasm being left seated deeply in your body.
You’re not sure if you fall asleep or just blink for a minute too long, but the feeling of your boyfriend's sweat sliding against the raw skin of a burn has you cursing and twisting away. And as if the words fuck and dude ow awaken something deeply within him, Jeno sits up quickly enough that you also have to hiss at the sudden emptiness you feel.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” you hear him mutter to himself as you hear the door to your bedroom open as he slips out. You don’t get to see which direction he turns down the hallways as you just let your worn body sink into the sheets that stick to your sweaty skin.
“I have absolutely no fucking clue how to treat a burn,” Jeno’s voice is panic stricken, but slurred still as the weed continues to fog his brain.
You turn your body enough to see him digging through a first aid kit that you were fully unaware that you owned, a quiet hhhrmm? coming out from the back of your throat as you sit in confusion.
He looks up from the acetaminophen and a gauze he has gripped in his hands, his face softening and losing its fear when he sees your tired blinking eyes and pouting lips.
He drops the things back in the small box he pulled them from, standing and moving over to sit on the edge of the bed, getting close enough that you can twist in a way that looks horrifying to him but he knows is somehow comfortable to you, until you rest your heavy head in his lap.
“So..” he starts petting at the creases between your brows and your thumping head, “you got what you wanted.”
“Mmhmm,” you simply purr in return.
“Mhm,” he parrots, his head nodding as he thinks, “so, any reviews for being turned into a human ashtray?”
“Jeno,” you start, peaking open one eye and letting your hand flit around dramatically, “it hurts so bad.”
He flinches, moving his hand to your hip and opening his mouth to babble in concern before you speak over him with a grin.
“But it feels so fucking good,” you sigh, like a girl in a teen movie fawning over her crush, “hurts so fucking good. And when you started pushing on it I thought I was going to pass out!”
“And that’s a good thing?”
“Yeah,” you scoff as if it’s the most obvious thing, before nuzzling into his hand as you think, “I do think it means I need to reevaluate a lot of things about myself as an individual.”
“Also in a good way?” He asks again, his voice now trailing off in a quiet laugh.
“Now that I don’t know about,” you huff, wondering if being a freak for pain is really as bad as it sounds, “eh that’s something I’ll think about after I take a bath.”
Preview: “One of these matches will have to be successful, Jeno.” You encourage him. Picking up a long sleeved top that would hide the iridescent metallic dark green scales trailing up his forearms.
“They always start successful, until.. you know.” Jeno says shyly, changing into the outfit you’ve chosen for his date tonight. Fitting him with a confused look he nods down. Removing his sweats in exchange for a pair of snug fitted leather pants. “Until we start hooking up, and they run off screaming like I’m about to murder them.”
Pairing: snake hybrid Jeno x female rabbit hybrid reader
Word Count: 6k+
Genre: predator/prey AU, “it’s too big” x2, Jeno can’t get laid, some crack, pwp, M/F, idiots to…?, one shot
Smut Warning: two dicks: one snake hybrid, a lengthy split tongue, oral(F receiving), use of snake venom, double penetration, bulging, breeding
When Jeno says he’ll swoop by later to pick you up the last thing you expect is to end up huddled together in a corner the majority of the night.
“You don’t have to stay by my side the whole time you know?” Jeno mutters, disrupting the calm silence you’ve fallen into. Bopping near him to the sounds of top 40 beats thrumming through the walls.
“I know! But we should try to have fun.” You jerk one his arms playfully hoping to receive his charming well recognized eye-smile.
Jeno lets out a drawn out dramatic sigh instead. Cracking his neck side to side to further display exhaustion. “It’s been such a long week.”
“You never told me how your date with that deer girl went last weekend!” Continuing to badger him, you hop on the balls of your feet enthusiastically. Slapping Jeno’s bulging bicep to wake him from his lazy state.
“God, don’t ask.” Jeno grunts, sipping at beer that's gone flat in his cup. “She’s been ignoring my texts for 4 days now. I give up.”
“What??” You squeak, frowning confused. “But she asked you out, I thought!”
“That she did..” Jeno rolls his eyes. Upper lip curling up in a snarl as he focuses on a noisy crowd that’s formed across the room. “Bet that douchebag tiger has never had a bad date in his life.”
Johnny’s surrounded by a group of the hottest prey hybrids on campus. Never one to have any trouble landing the eye of those that should fear him. Despite his sharp smile and intimidating feline features, prey stuck to him like white on rice.
“He’s so popular.” Jeno mumbles. Nursing the red solo cup in his grip for an hour now. Backwashing the stale beer more than actually drinking it.
“What do you mean?” You ask. Unable to stop yourself from pulling a face as you sneak the cup out of his hold. “Stop doing that. It’s gross.”
“Look at him.” Jeno lifts a hand in Johnny’s general direction. The tiger hybrid stands with his arms behind his head. One prey dangling from each of his biceps ‘oooo’ and ‘ahhh’ing. As if this isn’t his go-to trick to perform at every weekend kick back. “He’s like, the most popular predator hybrid in this whole state or something.
Jeno grunts, shaking his head until his flat bangs mingle with his eyelashes. “I can’t even get a date. Meanwhile he’s fully booked into the next century.”
“That’s not true Jeno. Don’t be so dramatic.” You disagree. Leaning past him to reach for the cooler on the floor. Picking up water bottles for the both of you. “You’re a different type of popular. Johnny’s a jock.. of course all the bimbos want him.”
Jeno thanks you for the water, furrowing his brows in thought. “Didn’t you date Johnny Freshman year?”
“Well, yeah! But I am a bimbo!” You exclaim. Ears flopping as you speak up ecstatically. “What Delta Gamma Pi prey hasn’t dated Johnny at this point? He cuts through rushies faster than hazing.”
“What is it you like about him?” Jeno ponders. Glancing over where the tiger hybrid now appears shirtless. Allowing a deer hybrid to trace the lines of abdominal muscles decorating his stomach. “Can’t be his personality. If he even has one.”
“Hey! He’s a sweet and charming himbo. The himbo to my bimbo really.” You sigh. Grimacing as Johnny breaks into body competition poses. “He’s a sweet guy.”
“What about me, am I not a sweet guy?” Jeno asks. Hooking your attention back to him with the question. Two innocent Freshmen prey hybrids pass by, cowering as they nearly bump into him. Apologizing profusely after moving along with speed. “Prey always fears me..”
Jeno isn’t wrong necessarily. Despite the rounded glasses that tend to sit crooked on his face, warm inviting smile, and eyes that could melt frosting on a cake; there was no denying his intimidating outer appearance.
Scales sneaking out past the collar of his shirt fading out just before reaching the hair at his nape. Tongue split down the middle that would poke from between his lips as he’d deeply concentrate.
At times so deep in his thoughts he’d blink suddenly, the whites of his eyes filled with yellow. Irises thinned into slits giving him the full predator appearance. Only realizing when prey would gasp and run away in fear.
There was one more thing snake hybrids had a reputation of. One you yourself could not confirm having never been with a snake hybrid.
“It depends on the prey.” You acknowledge. “They aren’t all going to be like me. Heck even the first time we met I thought you’d have my head for making you late to class.”
Jeno pouts, crushing up the now empty water bottle in his hands. “Am I that scary?”
“No! Not at all!” You’re quick to reassure. Bumping his arm with your shoulder playfully. “You go on so many dates! You’re really well known around campus too. Everyone speaks very highly of your intelligence and hard work ethic.”
“Well known because I’m the guy who always has whatever notes someone missed in lecture more like..” Jeno drags on. “My dates never end well though.”
“Why is that?” You ask. It’s not as if Jeno is difficult to get along with in any way. He carries conversation swimmingly, has an easy going sense of humor, and he’s right. If anyone will be able to cover you missing lecture, it’s him.
“Prey are always eager to..” Jeno drifts. Shifting on his heels nervously. Side-eyeing you cautiously. “Some…some prey, are really excitable.”
Jeno cringes a bit, muttering a ‘sorry’ under his breath to not offend you. It’s not as if rabbit breeds weren’t known to be the easiest of prey to catch. Your kind wasn’t one to hold out when it came to sexual urges.
“Yes yes.” You wave off his apology. “Rabbits and Bunnies are easy and horny. Big shocker there. The phrase ‘fuck like bunnies’ stemmed from somewhere right?”
Jeno visibly swallows his spit with a nod. Tugging the rim on his collar. “Not enough I guess. I can't even get a bunny hybrid to keep interest in me after we start…you know.”
“After you start fucking??” You squak. Jeno bursting into a cute blush, pleading you to shush and keep your voice down.
“It never goes that far..” he pouts again with a sigh. “Some kissing, touching. Then when they start to take off my clothes..”
“Oh come on Jeno, how bad can it be?” You giggle. Leaning closer to him on your toes to swat his cheek with one of your ears. “Trust me, Johnny was no easy obstacle. You’re talking like you have a monster down there.”
“Two.” Jeno says flatly. Avoiding your eyes.
“Two what?” You laugh, slowly calming when his expression does not change.
“I have two monsters down there.” Jeno shrugs. “Whatever Johnny has clearly hasn’t traumatized any prey by just looking at it.”
“Two like..” you mutter. Throat drying up and blinking rapidly to control yourself from scanning lower.
“Two dicks.” Jeno stares at you with a serious look. “Male snake hybrids have two dicks.”
Looking over your surprised reaction with your jaw hung open, Jeno cocks a brow. “What? Don’t believe me? Want to see for yourself?”
“I..” Gulping, you clutch tightly at the water bottle that’s gone warm in your hands.
So it is true, the reputation snake hybrids have precedes them afterall.
You’d seen Jeno shirtless plenty of times after working out together. Scales covered the backsides of his arms, painting from his nape down to the Venus dimples on his defined lower back. Hints of some just past the jut of his hip indentations peaked whenever he’d pull into a deep stretch. What if they reached even lower..
“Is that a yes or a no?” Jeno asks again. Losing your line of sight as the portrait draws out in your thoughts. “Have you ever seen a snake hybrids...”
He trails off, blush rising to the swell beneath his eyes. Lapping his upper lip until it gleams like a glossy coated pout. “Am I too out of line?”
“No no!” Snapping out of it, you slurp the drool that’s reached the corners of your lips. Laughing awkwardly to ease Jeno’s evident embarrassment. “I just…I heard rumors..”
“But you didn’t think it was true, right?” Jeno sounds like he’s heard this spiel more than a few times. “I guess I can see why, the snake hybrid adult video industry is pretty meek considering..”
“I’ve never even considered looking some up honestly.” You admit, chewing on your lower lip. Curiously wavering a look lower. Jeno had on loose fitted black jeans tonight. He never did seem to wear anything too form fitting. “Are you fucking with me?”
Jeno splutters, nearly spilling the new water bottle he’s opened up. Motioning a visual defense with his hands. “Why would I lie about this?”
“Fine.” Clearing your throat confidently, you stand up straight nodding upstairs. Squinting and arching a brow at him. “Let’s find an empty room.”
“Wh-what? Like….l-like really??” Jeno’s eyes bulge wide, stuttering and following after you.
“Oh, now you’re shy huh?? What happened to Mister I have two gigantic dicks!” You advertise too loudly. Further enhancing the pink that transforms to a deep red on the apples of Jeno’s cheeks.
“Ugh, not the rabbit and snake pairing again. Those breeds always fit their stereotypes I swear.” A panda hybrid rolls her eyes snickering as she moves off the wall. Sneering in Jeno’s direction with disgust written over her features.
“And Pandas really fit theirs! LAZY!” You shout after her, balling up your fist ready to hop across the floor and attack. Jeno whines, pulling your back to his chest.
“Can we just get this over with?” Jeno pleads. Failing to calm you with soft palms stroking up and down your arms.
“Ugh, why does everyone think we fuck?!” Kicking open the closests door, you charge inside, throwing yourself down on some stranger's bed. “Can’t predator and prey just be friends??”
“It’s not…very common. I mean, I can’t think of any.” Jeno sits by your side. Feebly picking at his pants feeling nervous as what he just did settles in. Wondering why he even suggested this idea. He couldn’t really blame the beer afterall. You just always had to sound so confident, a little know it all rabbit.
“Well! Get to it!” You groan, reaching for his sleeve to pull on. “Let’s see those big giant scary snake cocks!”
“What’s wrong with you??” Jeno squeals, covering his groin in case you aim there next.
“Ha! I knew it, you’re bluffing! You’re so full of it!” You smirk cockily. Shoving his arm rough enough to have Jeno tipping to the side. Rolling his eyes, he stands up gathering the waistband on his jeans.
“Oh, I’m bluffing?!” Shoving down his jeans and underwear in one-go, Jeno stands up straight. Long shirt hanging over his crotch. He grunts, pulling the material up just beneath his chest. Flexed abdominal muscles in full view leading down to..
“H-holy shit…you have t-two…..you…y-you…” starting to blabber, you cover up your mouth to silently take in the display before you. Jeno wasn’t lying, two dicks, two long thick dicks. Maybe only an inch or so different in size. The smaller of the two less smooth, ridges of scales up and down along the sides spreading out just past the indentations on his hips. “Fuck..you’re not even hard.”
Jeno squirms, stomach muscles contracting as he grows more anxious standing there. “See! I told you.” He huffs annoyed. Releasing his shirt to pull back on his bottoms.
“W-wait…” circling his wrist, you suck down a deep breath. Noticing the lack of difference in the size of your forearm and Jeno’s lengths. “Uh…you know.”
You start to nod sitting up, once again clearing your throat. “I can take you.”
“What did you just say?” Jeno backs up, thankful for the shirt covering his lower half again. Unable to neglect the twitch he feels rise through his cocks at your wandering tantalized gaze.
“You’re the one who said rabbits fuck like wild horny crazed animals!”
“That’s not exactly what I said!” Jeno squawks, pulling the hem of his shirt lower. Hoping the dim lit room is enough to hide the obvious growth beginning to peek through.
“Listen Jeno, I already know your situation, and I trust you!” Chancing a glance down, it’s impossible to not lick your lips taking note of the large tent that’s begun to protrude beneath his shirt. “Why not try with me? If it’s too much for me…we can stop. No pressure?”
“That’s weird!” He frets, turning away trying to hide his evident excitement. Butt cheeks fully out from lowering the front of his shirt too much. “This whole thing is weird!”
“You’ve been hitting the squat rack?” You whistle, flicking one of his firm cheeks.
“Stop objectifying me!” Jeno shrieks, returning to face you. Huffing, he shakes his head removing the now stretched out shirt.
“Wow..You’re…really hard. Like.. both..both of them.” You’re already choked up from the sight of Jeno completely bare. Every scale catches hints of moonlight across his smooth luminous skin. Swallowing dryness away, you reach with both hands eagerly.
“Wait!” He jerks back, strategically holding his hands splayed out just a centimeter away from his lower half. Enough to conceal some of his size. “We should..kiss…I think?”
“Oh my God.. Jeno, are you a virgin?!” You ask, mostly to ease the situation.
“What?!? No!” He snaps quickly. “I’ve slept with plenty of predator hybrids!”
“Oh, yeah no no…I knew that. It’s just so cute to see you like this.” You can’t stifle the giggle that follows, pushing back to rest on your palms you nod toward your lap. “Where do you want me to kiss first?”
Groaning, Jeno rolls his eyes, moving to straddle your lap. “Are you always this crude?”
“We’re pretty much almost always horny. It’s in our nature to mate and breed like.. a lot.” You start to explain, trailing off when one of his dicks presses against your navel. “Breeding huh?”
“Stoppp..” Jeno whines, thankful it’s too dark in the room to pick up on the hot flush that’s spread the entirety of his face. Even if you can’t see it, that doesn’t stop the urge to kiss away the cute mewls slipping from his lips.
It wasn’t uncommon to make the first move, never expecting you’d end up here with your reliable friend who never picked up on flirting. Even when the pretty panther barista would wink and offer him a complimentary coffee ‘on the house’ Jeno never had much of a response aside from ‘thanks’.
Not because he was harboring any type of feelings for a clueless prey who in return never once picked up on his minuscule tactics. Never that.
“Wh-what’re y-you doing?” Jeno mumbles between a soft kiss, gulping after each word.
“Should I kiss your…dicks instead?” You ask coyly, wiggling your brows to further embarrass Jeno. With a click of his tongue, he hoists you by the waist until you’re the one perched on his lap.
“Can’t believe you didn’t believe me.” He frowns, helping you remove the casual loose tunic you’d thrown on earlier. Knowing better than to wear anything too nice to a frat party with drunk attendees ready to ruin clothing left and right.
Spinning around once you’ve stripped down to your underwear, Jeno turns until you’re laid out beneath him. Hovering above your frame enough to look over your exposed skin.
“Can I..” he glances down, eyeing the wet patch that's formed on your underwear. “Need to stretch you out.”
The pointed tips of his tongue poke out suggestively, lowering as he focuses to retain eye contact with you. Fingers gather the sides of your underwear, gently lowering them. His cocks jump, hit first by the strong enticing scent of prey slick. Stronger for predator’s, meant to draw them in and lure them to attack sweet defenseless hybrids.
Jeno places his hands behind your knees, pushing up until your bottoms lifted off the bed. Tongue lolling out like a dog in heat, longer than you could have ever anticipated from any of the times you’ve caught glimpses before. Hunching closer, he takes a deep inhale. Writhing as Jeno full on begins to makeout with your clit. Alternating between sucking with vigor the louder your moans grows, to spitting and rubbing the pads of his fingertips against the right bundle of nerves to make your toes curl.
“Snake venom usually weakens and numbs..” He rasps, tongue lapping between your folds, prodding the tip at your entrance menacingly. “Sometimes it can help, if I use a little. Can I?”
Controlled by the rapid flicks he gives your clit, you nod maniacally. Spit sizzling as it flows down past your labia folds to your entrance, just enough to numb your hole for penetration. Jeno follows in with his tongue, rolling the venom around with thrusts. Mouth and chin dripping in slick that splashes against his lips. Long tongue tickling deeper in with each thrust of his face. Gripping a fistful of your ass as he groans between your thighs, slurping up your arousal between working you up to a dizzying orgasm.
“Fuck! Jeno!” Spasming, you clamp down around his head. The tip of his tongue flicking at your cervix, ripping a squirting climax out of you that dribbles down his neck and chest.
Full of desire, Jeno moves fast, placing you back on his lap. Ass sitting on the larger cock that beats fiercely beneath you. A mixture of growls and whimpers sounds, rubbing the tip of his length against your clit with splashing slick shooting out.
“Can I?” He pants, near begging. Nodding, you dig into his shoulders. Lifted enough for Jeno to find the perfect angle.
“Oh! O-oh! No!” You cry out, unprepared for the sheer size of just the tip. Pausing his movements as he barely breaches your hole. “Oh my G-god…too big! You’re too big!”
“I’m sorry!” Jeno starts to pull away feeling terrible. Kept in place by your arms locked around his shoulders. Dropping your face to his chest, you whimper, shaking your head.
“Just a minute..” whispering, you sigh, reaching between your bodies to wrap around his length. Sliding it back and forth between your folds. The larger squishes between your ass. Slick smoothing the glide of both. Waiting for your go ahead, Jeno tries to press into your tight cunt again, met with resistance and an immediate hiss.
Quick to halt his actions, he realizes it just won’t fit. Watching you endure it while biting down on your tongue to contain a pained cry just wasn’t worth it.
“We s-should stop..” Jeno forces himself to speak. Teeth gritting as you start to move against him. Building a rhythm riding the size of his cocks until they’re covered in wetness.
“Can you cum like this?” You ask, panting against his chin. Jeno nods, seeping his fingers into your sides to assist your working hips.
“Sometimes, just one..” he confesses, growing more quiet with embarrassment.
“I’m sorry Jeno, we can try again..”
“No no!” His head shakes frantically, bucking his hips for you to move faster. “Just use me.. please just use me instead.”
It’s more than enough, the scales on Jeno’s length scrape deliciously along your clit with each slide. Guiding your mouth with his, twisting your tongues together until you reach a fast but much easier finish. Jeno still hard as he lays back. Having to set your lower half away from himself to not burst into tears.
“I’m really really sorry.” Jeno hides his face in the bed. Sighing heavily he sits up to grab his pants. “I’ll drive you back to your dorm.”
“Don’t apologize..” you start, hiding a wince as you sit up. “I really do need to stop believing I can overcome any obstacle, don’t I?”
“Nah..” forcing a smile, Jeno hides his own wince. Already anticipating a long night of jerking off to the now very vivid image of your face taken over with pleasure.
——————————————————-
“Flowers? What’s the occasion?”
Jeno shifts side to side, oddly avoiding eye contact. “I feel bad about the other night. I should have warned you better. No one can ever take my..”
“Ah, Jeno! Don’t make it weird.” Scoffing, you bury your nose into the bouquet of roses. “I’ll accept these, because they’re beautiful. But you did nothing wrong, okay?? I was the one being pushy.”
“You usually are.” Jeno murmurs, jokingly nudging your side when you glare at him. “But I mean, I just felt bad. I kept worrying the rest of the weekend like— Is it going to be awkward between us now? Maybe she’ll hate me! What if I traumatized her?!”
“Why are rabbits pegged as anxious overthinkers when it’s you damn snakes who never know how to chill out?”
“Hey!” Jeno pouts, folding his arms. Scales out on full display today reminding you of what you spent the rest of your weekend doing.
“Actually, I was thinking a lot.” Grabbing your phone, you opt to not mention searching up for inflatable dildos while screaming into your pillow over how stupid you felt. “I made you a profile on predator meets prey!”
“What?!?” Jeno screeches, coming to stop so fast smoke burns beneath the soles of his rubber sneakers. “Why would you do that?!?”
“To get you laid! Obviously!!” You declare, adding a ‘duh’ paired with a sarcastic scoff.
Jeno’s blushing furiously, sporting a jittery smile for the curious stares you’ve gained. Subtly trying to shush you and lead you further down the hall to class.
“God why didn’t anyone ever warn me of what a nuisance you rabbit’s are!” He hisses, lips tight against his teeth. Failing to appear tough with the pink hue that’s taken over his face. “Why are you meddling in my business like this??”
“Hey! Your business is my business now.” Proudly you pump out your chest, pointing a thumb at yourself. “If I can’t take those dicks, I’m gonna find someone who can! You’re gonna be neck deep in hybrid pussy thanks to me.”
Jeno’s forehead thuds down on his desk, surrounded by gasps and sounds of disgusts circling the two of you.
“Look at this saucy little fox I scored you a date with tonight!” Failing to notice Jeno’s current state of misery, you shove into his seat, half positioned on his lap with your phone shoved in his face. “Her name is Ari, she loves long walks in the woods, gathering herbs, and making her own bags of tea.”
“Tonight?! You meddling rabbit!” Jeno’s blaring you with half shut eyes. More cute than he should look with his nose scrunched in irritation. “I can’t tonight!”
“Of course you can, I’m like the only person you hang out with.” Rolling your eyes, you confirm the date for tonight. Showing Jeno where he’d be taking his fox out to eat. “After class I’ll help you pick out what to wear. Who better to help you catch a prey than a prey, am I right?”
“You’re wrong in every way imaginable and I regret the day I agreed to sharing my study space with you.” Jeno mutters flatly.
“Do you mean that??” Tilting your head, you blink dramatically and shove out your lower lip. Making him sigh, adjusting his legs to allow more room for you to sit comfortably.
“What do I say every time?” Jeno says, the same way he always says whenever he’s frustrated with you.
“That meeting me has been the best part of college so far!” You cheer, pecking his warm cheek. He releases a long breath, falling into a smile that hides his eyes completely.
“So…a fox..”
That’s how Jeno finds himself in nothing but his sweats while you pace back and forth in front of his closet.
“We have to take you shopping soon.” You grunt, throwing more plain black tees into the ‘no’ pile. “How many Air Forces do you own?!?”
“…pft….those are my favorite shoes!”
“I’m thinking something that really shows off your physique.” Blowing away your ears and strands of hair that have fallen on your face, you hold up an outfit after searching for 30 minutes. “Form fitting shirt, these leather pants that really hug your long legs!”
Jeno’s cheeks light up instantly, vibrant shades of pink. Rubbing the scales on his forearms to distract himself from overthinking.
“One of these matches will have to be successful, Jeno.” You encourage him. Picking up a long sleeved top that would hide the iridescent metallic dark green scales trailing up his forearm.
“They always start successful, until.. you know.” Jeno says shyly, changing into the outfit you’ve chosen for his date tonight. Fitting him with a confused look he nods down. Removing his sweats in exchange for a pair of snug fitted leather pants. “Until we start hooking up and they run off screaming like I’m about to murder them.”
“That’s not true, I didn’t run off!” You correct him.
Jeno nods, lips pursed together. Turning to fuss with his choppy bright pink hair in the mirror. “You’re kind of the only one who never has though..”
“Have some positivity, I really do think there’s a chance with this fox!”
A chance, a fat chance. Jeno hated to show up groveling on your doorstep at 1am. Immediately digging his face into your shoulder as he began to retell the events of the evening. Another failed date, this one didn’t even make it past some French kissing.
“If it’s not one thing, I guess I should say two, it’s the damn tongue.” He complains, waving a spoon of matcha ice cream. “I sound pathetic.”
“A little.” You joke, feeling a little guilt. Enough to let Jeno scrape the pint of your favorite ice cream clean. The first of many he would empty in the weeks to come.
“We at least made it into bed this time.” He says, licking the back of a wooden spoon you’ve now designated as Jeno’s failed date ice cream spoon. “I do wonder if sheep hybrids ‘baa’ when they..”
Catching your perplexed gaze, Jeno mumbles, waving off his thoughts. “I have dinner with a deer tomorrow.. and then that pretty zebra hybrid this weekend.”
“Maybe they do ‘baa’..” you start, earning a confused look from your friend. “Sometimes, when it’s really..”
“Hmm?” He pipes in for you to go on. It’s not as if you’d stopped replaying the memory of his girth sliding between your folds and ass at the same time. Glowing in the dark room like an oil painting.
“When my orgasms really, like really really good..” moving back, you lift your foot to show him exactly what you mean. “I thump.”
“That’s..” Jeno coughs, ducking to hide the blush rising up to his nose. “That’s..”
“I have to stop oversharing too huh?” You shrug, a little embarrassed.
Jeno wants to agree, but he can’t when he knows that the idea of you reaching peak orgasm will help him through his shower later. Sulking after mooching off your ice cream that always seemed to be fully stocked when he stopped by after another failure. Showers had turned into long water wasting sessions, heading to bed with pruney fingertips and cum washed down the drain along with his chances of getting laid.
——————————————————-
“That was date number 12. I think I need a break.” Jeno’s neck loosens, nearly dangling his head off the back of your couch. His hairs faded to a light peachy tone now, black roots grown in an inch. Leather jacket thrown on the arm of the couch as he plopped down ready to ask for his ice cream. “My wallet needs a break too actually.”
“Jeno..” swallowing, you sit back on the backs of your calves. “Why don’t we try again?”
“Huh? Try what?” He turns lazily, cocking a brow. Noting you’re more dressed up than usual today, usually in your pajamas or robe ready for bed by the time he shows up.
“Try, like…like us.” You squirm. Opening and closing your text messages with your friend for the last few hours. He’d begun to send mirror photos in seek of outfit approval. Changing out of a snug fit turtleneck to a low cut black V neck that showed his ample chest off nicely. Maybe too nice as you couldn’t resist zooming in to look over the defined pectoral muscles on display.
“Like us?” He asks, turning just slightly. Chest squished down the center at this angle.
“Like…as in….we should…let’s have sex!” You shout leaving Jeno with his jaw hanging open.
“What?!? W-Why?”
“What do you mean why? Because I like you! You…you..you…dumbass!” You frown, crossing your arms over your chest.
“Wha— since when?!” Jeno’s flabbergasted, sitting up and pulling on tuffs of his bleached hair. Thinking out loud as he goes on. “But…I liked you first! I’ve always liked you! I was supposed to tell you first!! Hey! Don’t call me a dumbass!”
“Well, you didn’t.” Blowing at one of your ears annoyed, you fix him with a weak glare. “Have to do everything myself around here, even make sure you get to cum.”
Before he can start another blubbering tirade you make to move, throwing a leg over his hips to mount him. Lips crashing together mid-stuttered out speech. Making Jeno’s weight fall boneless beneath you, sinking deeper against the couch cushions as he relaxes. The split of his tongue rolls past yours, slipping up the sides to the back of your throat.
“Ar-are y-you..” he tries to confirm you’re not just in heat, knowing your schedule by now and that your next shouldn’t be for at least a few weeks.
“Shh..” between a mountain of layered kisses leaving Jeno’s lips pink and swollen, you nod. Scooping his face in your hands to keep his neck tilted back just enough to battle with his tongue. Finally calming him enough with an expert suck around his tongue. Slowly pulling back for him to feel the tightness of your lips pulling around him.
Wantonly he moans, confidently wrapping your waist to plant your bottom right against where his jeans have begun to protrude. Pushing your thighs down to meet the size permeating.
“Won’t you let me take care of you?” You coo, licking his earlobe. Emphasizing the question with a roll of your hips that has one of Jeno’s cocks digging deep into your underwear. He gazes up, already appearing lost in a daze, nodding furiously.
“Please..please.” Jeno begs, he begs. Licking at his upper lip with thirst.
You can’t resist smearing the spit on his lips with another kiss. Sharing heated gusts of breath between panting and grinding together. Jeno fully hard now, whimpering louder the more you bounce your ass down against him.
That’s how you end up on your bed continuing to explore each other’s mouths, three fingers knuckle deep thrusting in and out of your core.
“Jeno, I’m ready. I promise.” You clasp his wrist to stop his movements. Nearing the point of your climax the longer he works you up, scissoring long digits through the unyielding slick that puddles under your ass. Not mentioning the preparation you’ve put in since the last time to ensure you can take him.
“No.. won’t fit, have to..” he anguishes, nose scrunched. Thumbing faster at your clit, pressing over and over again on the same spot whenever you can’t hold back another moan.
“Trust me, I can do it.” You confirm with more kisses, twitching up under the weight of his palm pressed on your mound. “Wanna feel you.”
Jeno seems reluctant, chewing his lower lip in thought. Indulging in the softness you dab across his chin and jaw.
“Don’t..don’t lie for my sake yeah? I can..jerk off again.” With a gulp he sits up to remove the rest of his clothes. Taking a deep breath in as he slides off his briefs.
“I can take both..” you nod rapidly, sliding your fingers around your tongue to collect a wad of spit. Reaching down to spread your entrance open more, it’s hard enough with the amount of slick that’s continuously pouring from your hole. Pulsing around nothing as you watch worry etch across Jeno’s handsome features.
“Don’t wanna hurt you, last time..” he mumbles off. Securely gripping around the base of his cocks to cool the urgent need to fuck you full.
“Jeno, please, I want both.” Grabbing onto his hips, you pull him close until your bodies are flush together. “Want you to feel good, cum inside of me. Can’t take it anymore, I need you.”
“Fuck..” he croons, larger cock gliding through your folds coated in slick. “S-sure? A-are you sure?”
“Please! Give me!” Kicking your feet, you lift up to smack his ass with your foot. Accidentally angling your hips higher enough for the tip of Jeno’s length to catch on your entrance. The two of you hissing in surprise, quickly he squeezes around both with one fist to a painful point.
He starts to nod rapidly, eyes locked on your glistening pelvis. Circling the tips of his lengths together until they gleam covered in absurd amounts of slick.
Jeno clamps down on his lengths pushing the tips past your tight heat. Sliding in easier with the arousal dripping out. Biting down a cry painfully until his lower lip tears, he checks in. Panting and asking if you’re okay, met with nothing but silent overwhelmed nods. It’s maddening how full you feel. The larger cock pushing down enhancing the stretch against your ass. The scales forcing shivers to erupt with each indescribable scratch against your walls. A new high you’ve never felt before, taking over the little coherency left.
“Fuck..I’m..” Jeno grits, breathing harshly as he stares between your bodies. Ready to pass out just from the visual of your cunt filled with both of his dicks. One swirl of his hips finds the right angle, burying in deep to the hilt with a painful groan. “S-so tight. Ughh.”
Your neck aches, lifted watching the tip of one cock pushing at the skin under your belly button. Stuffed to the brim full of throbbing cocks, pumping in and out to the point of mind blanking insanity.
“Feel me?” Jeno asks, pushing down on the expanse of your abdomen, causing a noisy crying moan from your mouth. “Good? Feel good? You feel so good for me.”
“Yes yes yes!” You whine, reaching down to squeeze around Jeno’s cock. Stroking your stomach up and down over his moving length to jerk him off somehow. Enough to have Jeno’s head falling forward with his mouth hung open letting out muted screams. Thrusting in slow and deep consumed by the wet slick heat trickling down past his balls, your palm cocooned around his tip. Cocks squished together more and more as you roughly convulse around him.
He can’t hold back as you start to clench down, crying out with every bumpy scale knocking against your nerves more delectably with each thrust. Stretched more than ever, crazed by the tip of his lengths meeting your cervix with pounding kisses. Better than any dick you’ve taken…times two.
“Jeno Jeno..” you wail, arching up by your neck. A strong grip lands on your shoulders to hold you in place for extra leverage. Jeno chases after release faster the more you close up around him. Throbbing through each ridge up his spine down to the area between his thighs. The pleasure exploding throughout his body stronger than any he’s ever felt. Pushing his orgasm to rise faster than normal.
“Oh fuck, oh fuck fuck.” Tremors shake between the both of you inside out.
“Cumming, gimme cum please!” You jerk up the bed, grabbing onto his muscular waist, nodding and shouting for him to cum like a broken record.
“It’s all for you.” His hips collide at high speed against yours. Sounding out noisy and wet every time your skin rubs together. Grunting raspy broken moans in time with his thrusts. “All of it..it’s yours. You, only you.”
It’s impossible to understand anything he’s saying beyond the static that’s filled your mind. Foot slamming down on your bed with hard thumps. Slick gushes out around him upon your release, too plugged with no way out. Squirting around his lengths aggressively as your entire body convulses.
Jeno’s head spins, struggling to penetrate past your walls clamping down on his girths. Mewling in near anguish from the sudden relief drowning out of him. He thrusts once, twice, falling to a slow pointed grind.
“Thank you, thank you.” Biting down on his lip, Jeno whimpers, repeating a chant of gratitude as his eyes water up. Bodily stinging as cum shoots out heavily, sucking his stomach in to the point of empty. Collapsing down drooling on your shoulder to suppress a cry, he continues to spew on. “Thank you, thank you. Ah fuck, thank you.”
You have to clamp your lips shut to keep in a chuckle, not wanting to ruin the moment. A serene sensation passes from Jeno, weightless as he catches his breath on top of you. Lifting his neck to kiss up your jaw gently.
“Not yet..” you whisper, circling his trim waist with both arms to stay in place. Jeno shifting just enough to stir a warmth in your stomach.
“Hey your..” he starts smiling, raspy as he turns to speak against the column of your throat. “Your foot was..”
“You thanked me for letting you cum.” You interrupt, holding back a yawn. Jeno hides further between your neck and shoulder muffling his groan, close enough to kiss the crown of his head. “You’re welcome by the way.”
step on a crack, dr. lee’s gonna break your back! ♡ ljn x reader (18+)
genre: smut, jeno x reader, f x m, crack
word count: 12.2k+
summary: after years of sitting hunched over at an office desk and squinting your eyes at an overly saturated computer screen, your back finally gives out on you and decides it needs a break.
good thing your friendly neighborhood chiropractor dr. lee is here to save the day! small issue though— he’s really fucking hot and he’s got a way with his hands.
smut warnings: dom!jeno, mild dubcon (please do not read if you are uncomfortable with this), penetrative sex, manhandling, choking, strength kink, oral (f receiving), minimal rimming (f receiving), fingering, squirting, subspace, degradation, mild spanking, body worship
other warnings: will more than likely contain anatomical and medical inaccuracies (please spare me)
────── 〔✿〕──────
When you were younger, all of the adults told you that your twenties would be some of the best years of your life. Relaying tales of being able to stay out past the curfew your parents had set for you. To indulge in certain luxuries that weren’t accessible to you when you were younger– the finest of alcohol, gambling, and more. Old enough for the freedom that comes with adulthood, yet young enough for the rose colored glasses that’ll register one of your fondest memories.
Not you though.
Scrolling through your social media, you grumble to yourself bitterly as you deliberately swipe past a post of your old colleagues from school having a night out at the bar. Lined up along the stools and leaned up against one another, bright smiles and puckered lips showing off just how much fun they’re having. Envious of their fitted dresses and the heels that you’ve been admiring from far away at your local outlet.
You really couldn’t blame them, though. They’ve invited you out many times. To no avail, they’re always met with rejection. The same exact excuses every single time:
“I’ve got OT today.”
“I have a project due tonight, I need to get this done.”
“I’m too tired. You guys go on without me.”
It’s not that you wanted to be such a stick in the mud. You just happened to work at an office that sucks the soul out of your being. It’s no wonder that the invites have become extremely scarce throughout the years, but that didn’t stop you from being petty and refusing to leave a like on their posts.
“Like hell I will,” You spit back.
“Like hell I will,” You spit back.
“Like hell I will,” You spit back.
Haechan pouts at that, his eyebrows furrowing childishly at your attitude. “What’s got you so moody today? I just wanna spend some time with my favorite coworker.” Planting his hands on top of each of your shoulders, soothing not so gentle circles into the flesh. Digging his forefingers into the crook of your collarbone, inflicting minor pain. He whistles at how stiff the knots are. “Jesus, you’re tight.”
“Could you stop being annoying for like, two minutes please?” You retreat from his touches with a feigned scoff, refusing to let him in on the fact that the makeshift massage hurt like actual hell. Shooting shocks and aches all along from the bottom of your spine to the top, wondering why you’re strained. You’d be a fool to think you could evade Haechan’s observant gaze however. As he jabs a pointer finger right to the center of your back, you shoot up from your hunched over position with an obnoxious squeal. “Ah– fucking hell, Haechan!”
Maneuvering your rolling chair to give him your deadliest glare, you’re confused when you’re met with a concerned face. “Do you have back problems?”
The sudden question startles you. Craning your neck and giving it an experimental crack. You realize you've never put much thought into it. Writing it off as a minor inconvenience at most. Too caught up with the rest of life to be concerned with your physical health, you pushed any aches to the back burner of your mind. “I don’t think so?”
Another jab comes your way, this time directly at your trapezius. Squealing like a mouse in pain once again, you earn a few curious stares from your peers. “Ow!” You smack his wrist away. “What the hell is wrong with you!?"
“It’s because you’re always slumped over at that damn desk!” Haechan argues with a tone that’s similar to a naggy mother’s. “You need to get checked out before it gets any worse.”
“I’m fine,” You swivel your chair away from him and back towards your desk, wanting to end this interaction as soon as possible. “Seriously, you don’t have to worry about me.”
Ever the overly concerned friend, Haechan goes against your wishes. Reaching into his pocket for his wallet before filing through the several business cards he has stowed away. You hear an innocuous ‘aha!’ from behind you, turning back curiously only to be met with a small cut of paper. Wiggling his eyebrows at you mischievously, urging you to take it from him.
Taking the card with caution, you barely skim through the simplistic font before Haechan speaks up again. “This guy is top notch. He’ll put you back into shape like it’s nothing.”
“Dr. Lee Jeno, D.C..” You mumble to yourself. Looking up at Haechan’s cat-like expression with your own unamused stare, fingers already up in air quotes. “Step on a crack, Dr. Lee will put you back on track?” You mock with disdain before grimacing at Haechan. “You can’t be serious right now.”
“I’m definitely being one hundred percent serious,” Haechan replies. “Come on, give it a try! His rates are great before insurance. Who knows how much cheaper it would be with our health plan.”
You’ve watched plenty of chiropractor videos on Youtube before. Fond of the ASMR and the funny reactions. They've kept you entertained more times than you’d like to admit. That didn't stop your irrational fear of having your neck snapped so far back you wake up to find yourself in front of the pearly gates though.
“Don’t you know chiropractors are quack doctors? I mean— look at this Patrick Bateman ass business card. This guy could kill me!” You counter pathetically.
“Hey, don’t speak on my boy like that,” He points an accusing finger at you. “I’ve gone to him plenty of times, and I’m still alive!”
“That’s because you’re a freak of nature,” You sigh at his persistence, too many factors to consider before even thinking about calling this man. “I don’t know…” But when you stretch out and a crack evades both your ears, that same sharp tinge traveling up your back, you’ve got no choice but to give in. Deflating under Haechan’s narrowed eyes, you admit defeat. “Okay, fine.”
“‘Atta girl,” He cheers. “I swear that you won’t regret it. Dr. Lee’s great at what he does.”
“I hope you’re right, because if he snaps my neck and I die— I’m haunting your punk ass.”
“Being haunted by you doesn’t sound that bad honestly. But when have I ever lied to you?” He winks. “Oh, and make sure to tell him that I referred you.”
Deciding that he’s bothered you enough, Haechan bids you goodbye with a wave. When you’re left by yourself you examine the card much more thoroughly. Despite the extremely corny slogan, you admire the minimalistic design. Flipping it to the other side to get more of his information, taking a mental note to search up his reviews later.
——
Dr. Lee seems to check all of the marks. Almost five stars on Google Reviews, most of them being very thorough and positive. A variety of patients from the eldery, to athletes, and even to those who have suffered severe injuries. Many claim that he’s got the ‘magic touch’ and that he treats his patients with the utmost care. That and he has the credentials to boot, graduating at the top of his class.
Swiping through the photos to get a feel for what his office looks like, it seems he occupies a space at a local complex. It’s neat and tidy, a clear degree and certification plated right there for all to see. Seems like he doesn’t have any photos of himself however, his profile picture being the default silhouette.
Admittedly you find yourself pacing back and forth, your phone resting on top of your coffee table. You’d like to blame it on mild phone anxiety, but you’ve got nothing to blame but your skepticism. Mentally battling with yourself to just give Dr. Lee a call and set the damn appointment.
Well, if he’s got Haechan’s approval (you’re not sure how valid that is), you guess it wouldn’t hurt to try. You seldom ever ‘treated yourself,’ so why not throw a couple of bucks on something that’ll actually do you some good?
Bracing yourself, you swipe your phone off of the table dramatically before dialing the number displayed on the card. Slapping the device onto your ear while the rings reverberate around your virtually silent room. Swaying nervously as two rings, three, then four pass without an answer. Wondering if you’re in over your head and should quit while you're still ahead, looking back at the screen and hovering your thumb over the hang up button.
Until somebody eventually picks up. A voice that is gentle yet booming with bass, delicate yet boyish in the same manner. “Hello? You’ve reached Neo Therapy Practitioners, this is Jisung speaking!”
Fumbling your phone like a hot potato, you tuck your phone in the nook of your shoulder. Grabbing a pen and notepad before plopping back down onto your couch. “Yeah, hi, yes!” You splutter. “I was wondering if I could set up an appointment with Dr. Lee?”
“Oh, for adjustment? Sure!” You hear some rustling before the man on the line continues. “Let me just get some of your info before I transfer you over to him. He’ll go into more depth with you than me.”
After providing Jisung with the necessary information, he sends you to Dr. Lee’s extension. An annoying jingle that brings you some peace. Still just a bit wary of setting up your meeting with Dr. Lee, your concerns only growing when the song comes to an abrupt stop.
Now, you may not have a face to pair with whoever is on the other side of the line, but nothing could have prepared you for the intense timbre that's on the other line.
"Hello?” The deep and sultry voice greets you, and when you take a few too seconds too long to return it, he tries again. “This is Dr. Lee. Are you there?”
Straightening your back out like you’re already in the room with him, it takes a lot of energy to double down without embarrassing yourself. “Yes! I’m here.”
A chuckle is offered in response, and you find yourself biting your index finger at how much of a baritone his voice has. Unlike Jisung who had an innocent tinge to his tone, Dr. Lee’s voice made it clear that he was a man of experience. A bravado that couldn't be missed even without physically seeing him.
“Glad to hear it.” You practically hear the smile in his voice. “So, Jisung told me you were looking to be adjusted?” When you hum in response, there’s a pause before he continues. “Sounds good. Typically with your first appointment it’ll consist of a consultation followed by your first adjustment. Does that sound okay?”
“Mhm, that's fine.”
“Perfect.” He beams, going over some more basic information that you jot down on your notepad. “Would you be free to come in tomorrow at let’s say… nine a.m? I actually had a cancellation and it gives us more than enough time before my next patient.”
When you check your wall calendar to confirm you have nothing going on in the morning, you let him know that you’re good to go. Everything goes swimmingly from there.
Dr. Lee instructs you to wear a casual set of clothes, to have your insurance and identification ready, and to just relax.
“I’ll print out a brief page of everything we discussed today, and I’ll hand over the rest of the information to Jisung to input into our system.” Dr. Lee finalizes. “I look forward to meeting you tomorrow. I'll see you then?”
“Absolutely,” You reply. “Bright and early. I’ll see you, Dr. Lee.”
With a click, the call ends. Stretching out and hearing the pops of your spine sing like a choir, you're thankful that such a nuisance will be put to a stop soon. You feel much more at ease than before you had called, and you hope that the same holds true for when you see him tomorrow.
——
Turns out that it didn’t hold true. Not one fucking bit. Maybe you can still make a run for it, the main lobby merely a hallway from his office.
It had gone easily enough. Meeting his secretary Jisung at the front desk with an enthusiastic greeting. He was young, probably using this as a part time job, most definitely not taking it seriously since you caught him playing Minecraft on a separate gaming laptop. Slamming the screen shut in a fit of embarrassment, he apologizes hurriedly before you reassure him that he’s okay, laughing at his silliness.
Handing him the required materials, he sends you to the back with a small smile. “First door to the left. He should be ready for you.”
With a nod you follow his instructions. That same confidence that you had carried from the night before crumbling to dust the moment you turned down the handle of the door. Swallowing a thick wad that’s formed at the center of your throat when you take in the sight of the man who’s setting up his equipment.
Haechan be damned, this guy was going to kill you. Not in the way you had first feared though.
Dr. Lee was a sight sent straight from the Greek Gods themselves. Aphrodite taking special care and concocting whatever the fuck he was made out of with a few shots too many of favoritism. Muscular legs that are restrained by black jeans that travel up a lean waist that part into obnoxiously broad shoulders. Proportions unbelievably perfect with an even more beautiful face to boot, that sharp jawline and beauty mark that is saved for those who are the cream of the crop.
If you were attracted to merely a voice via a phone call, the real thing has you absolutely folding.
Unfortunately for you, you were too slow in backing out. Dr. Lee had finished adjusting the height of the bed at the center of the room, presumably sensing your presence before twisting his entire body to find you at the door frame. Upon meeting you for the first time, his face twists into one of the most welcoming expressions ever.
Oh yeah, you were doomed.
Taking large strides towards you, he extends his hand for you to take. “Nice to be able to meet you in person.” He says, eyes forming into sweet crescents upon your accepting shake. His large hand wraps around yours completely. Gaze trailing from where you’re connected to his pronounced forearms. Sleeves rolled up high enough to ogle the veins that lace around.
Said button up did him no favors either. Accentuating each taut muscle, his biceps begging to be freed from its constraints. The button just below his collarbone fighting for dear life lest he makes the wrong move and it pops off. Calling your name, he brings you out of your daze. Shaking your head to bring you back to reality, scolding yourself inwardly for being such a prude. “N-nice to meet you too, Dr. Lee.”
He blows a few black strands away from his forehead, snorting at your apprehensiveness. “Please save the formalities. Just call me Jeno.” He squeezes your hand in reassurance. Separating from you in exchange for extending his arm towards the bed with black leather cushions that are framed by fine bamboo. “Make yourself comfy, yeah?”
Following you closely before dragging a rolling chair to sit across from you in, he sits casually with his legs spread out and his chest leaning against the back support of the chair. Reaching for his clipboard and whistling a tune as he skims through some documents. “Alright, it seems like we have some minor back pain?” He licks at his thumb to make flipping through the pages easier. Pushing the glasses that slip down his nose, attentive to every detail. “Care to tell me about it?”
“WelI, I think I started to feel some aches as early as three years ago when I started at my office, but it was a nuisance at worst,” You explain. Jeno validates you by nodding along, jotting out your words into short notes on his clipboard. Holding his chin between his thumb and forefinger, he urges you to continue. “But it's gotten worse recently. It's more of a shooting pain now.”
“I see.” He affirms, tapping the pen against his bottom lip. “A lot of my patients that are in the office tend to be victims of misalignment, I’m sure your case is no different.”
“I hope so,” You stifle a nervous laugh, halfheartedly relaying your worst fears in a joking manner. “Would hate to find out I have scoliosis this late into life and then have to get surgery for it.”
“Oh, please,” Jeno snorts at you with a feigned offense, tossing the clipboard back to his desk. “I notice your posture is a bit off, but it’s nowhere near so bad that it would require surgery. Plus–,” He cuts himself off when he rises from his office chair, circling behind you to plant his hands on your shoulders. The sudden closeness has your breath hitching, tensing up even further when he parts your hair to get a better look at the back of your neck. Feeling rather than seeing that his chest is probably no more than a few centimeters away from your back. A ghost of a breath against your ear, realizing that he’s much closer than you thought. “That’s what I’m here for. I’ll put you right back into shape.”
“Y-yeah…” You have to remind yourself that he is a certified professional. For that reason, you conclude that he is most definitely just being friendly– at least you try to tell yourself as you feel heat travel up your neck beneath his thumbs that trace over the top of your back. Wanting to slap yourself for getting nervous over him doing his job.
“Let’s take a look, yeah?” Those same thumbs trail down your back, the fitted workout shirt you decided to wear today making it easier for Jeno to get a proper visual of your spine, humming in fascination when he digs into the flesh. A slight jolt causing you to wince under his hold, squeaking feebly at the discomfort. You hope you’re hallucinating when you hear a breathy chuckle leave his throat. “Sorry, did that hurt?” He muses.
“No–! Okay, maybe a little,” You stutter out. “It was just a bit of a shock.”
A noise that’s akin to a lion on the prowl stirs in his chest, making his way back up to the vertebrae that’s on that rests right below your neck. Digging into the flesh once again, this time earning a hiss from you. Biting your lip when the same pain that you had experienced from Haechan resurfaces. “Looks like you do have some misalignment. Does this hurt?” He asks before exerting more force into the spot.
“Fuck–,” You curse, covering your mouth in embarrassment at your lack of professionalism. “Sorry, yeah. That hurt a lot.”
You’re starting to think that this alleged ‘doctor’ is having a little bit too much fun inflicting pain on you. Under the guise that he’s just examining what issues you have, you grow more skeptical with each chuckle. Just when you’re about to retreat from his overbearing touches, he retreats first. “I think I’ve got a pretty good idea on what you’ve got going on.”
“You think?” You deadpan, not sure if you’re finding relief in your suspicions dominating your obvious attraction.
“Well, I know, rather.” He shrugs before walking back over to his desk, pulling out a model of a spine. Traveling back to you to point at one of the uppermost vertebrae. “Your thoracic is misaligned towards the top, specifically your T1– which is responsible for lots of important things like your shoulders, arms, the like.”
“So what does all of that mean?”
“Luckily, it’s not bad at all. I think a few sessions would be just fine,” He answers, discarding the spine model. “I’ll give you a sheet with a bunch of stretches that’ll prevent further injury. ‘Till then,'' That same smile encapsulates his features, tilting his head playfully. “Ready for your first adjustment?”
He raises his eyebrows when you give him a gobsmacked face, as if you haven’t already signed a waiver and a bunch of other non-disclosure agreements that specify that you are in fact going to be realigned.
“Oh, we’re doing that now now.”
“Yeah, now now.” He mocks you halfheartedly. Hands now coming to your front and pushing you down gently, swallowing when you get the best look of his face that you’ve gotten in the short time you’ve been in this office. “Lay back for me, okay?” He instructs softly, leaving you to grab his chair once again.
You do as he says, coming down with control only to realize you’ve fallen into his hands rather than onto the cushion. A horrible realization dawns when you recall the Youtube video that you had watched before going to sleep. Oh shit, he was going to crack your neck.
“Relax for me, just let your head fall back. Don’t tense." He praises you when you follow with no objections. Taking your trust with gratitude, he coos at you when your eyelids flutter shut. “That’s it…”
“Are you gonna do the thing?” You open one eye curiously.
“What, the thing where I readjust your neck?” Noticing that your expression is scrunched in fear, he realizes that you’re still a bit on edge. He knows that earning his patients’ full trust is all part of the job. It came easy to some, but harder for others. Good thing he was a patient man. “I understand if you’re scared, but just know that I haven’t killed anyone.”
“Oh, that totally makes me feel better–”
“Yet.”
“Just how did you score such high reviews on the Internet?” You chide him. “My life is literally in your hands right now.”
“I think those reviews were properly earned because of my dazzling charisma. Is that not enough to put you at ease?” He soothes light circles into the back of your neck, earning a purr of satisfaction from you.
“You mean your pretty privilege?” You drawl, immediately regretting not being able to bite back your sharp tongue.
"So you think I'm pretty?" He questions.
Stuck between a rock and a hard place, you amp up the theatrics by clamping your mouth shut. Motioning a metaphoric zipper from one end to the other and breaking off the tab.
Jeno decides he’s poked enough fun at you despite wanting to provoke more funny reactions. “Alright, now that you’re relaxed– I just want you to focus on your breathing.” He watches you inhale and exhale, chest pumping up and down with every breath. Gnawing at his cheek when he realizes that your shirt is just a bit low cut, your cleavage visible from where he’s sat behind you. “Mhm, good girl.”
The pet name quickly demolishes any relaxation you’ve achieved in the span of two seconds, but before you can properly address it, Jeno twists your neck. Squawking out a ‘oh my god!’ when a pronounced crack invades the room. Eyes practically bulging out of their sockets when Jeno brings you back to place, patting your cheek and letting out an exuberant laugh.
“You did it!” He claps for you.
“Holy fucking shit,” You gasp, unable to care about coming off as presentable to him. Sitting up quickly to wrap your hands around yourself. Unable to describe the sensation that just occurred, something in between satisfaction and utter shock. “I’m alive!”
“You are,” He says, bottom lip tucked between his teeth when you rejoice. His patients showing instant results and giving positive reactions would always be his favorite part of the job. “How do you feel?”
You take a few seconds to think, shaking your body a little and craning your neck side to side. “I feel a little lighter? There was a second where my head was just.. blank. Like there was nothing at all. I think I liked it.”
When his lips quirk up into a smirk, you fold into yourself bashfully. Wondering if you’re coming off too casual with someone you had just met. Only now remembering that you had a very nice set of arms and hands over what you’d consider an intimate part of the body. Aside from Haechan who you couldn’t really chase away (no matter how many times you’ve cursed at him), you’ve never been too fond of physical touch. But when you catch the veins that have become even more prominent after exuding his efforts on you, you can’t help the fantasies that plague your mind.
Jeno was capable of twisting your neck like it was nothing. You wonder how easily he could lift you. Or how long he could last with you in his arms. Or how long he–
“Ready for the other side?” He pipes in.
Maybe you shouldn’t lust over your chiropractor when you’re in the same room as him.
Falling back into him once again, he waits for your body to go slack. Counting off when you’ve reached a state of peace, he reiterates the action but in the opposite direction. That same rush breaking through your toughest nerves. Sighing out in relief, unconsciously arching your back when a tingle travels down your spine. Completely unaware of the way Jeno ogles the outline of your body in such fitted clothing.
“Still doing okay?” He hums, unconsciously trailing a hand through your hair. You ease into his touch with a sappy smile. The blissful pleasure similar to the buzz that comes with a good wine, your body is heavy but your mind is light.
“Doing just fine, Doctor…” You whisper out, nuzzling your cheek into his palm. A stark contrast from the top half to the latter of his palm, such a soft touch despite the surface being riddled with calluses. He felt just like how he looks– a bit rugged but just as gentle. Lee Jeno was an oxymoron personified, and you fear for your well being as the rest of this session goes.
“Didn’t I tell you to call me by my name?” He reprimands you, a bit of a growl laced in his words.
“Right,” You breathe out, painfully perceptive to his thumb that grazes against your bottom lip. Catching his hand with your own, lacing your fingers around the crook of his. “It felt amazing, Jeno.”
Jeno has had plenty of patients stretching near and far– many trying to pull moves on him. That isn’t to say he hasn’t found a few attractive people in his time in the office. But he knows better to engage in any sort of scandals that could bring any bad light to his reputation as a well renowned chiropractor. It was also natural for his patients to become a little lost in their heads after living with that pain for so long.
But when you don such a lost and dazed expression, Jeno realizes he might be in just a little bit of trouble.
Clearing his throat, he tries to carry on like normal. That proves to be difficult when he has to put you in quite a few compromising positions. Having to hug your body close when he lifts you up, plenty of cracks to show just how long you’ve deprived yourself of such basic luxuries. Using his strength to realign your spine in increments while you lay on your stomach.
He’s not a stranger to the grunts and groans of relief from the rest of his patients. Yet with each and every adjustment came a new sound. A stuttered gasp, an elongated groan, a screech in almost painful bliss– he wonders if you like being hurt. And when he has you laid on your side with his hand on the small of your back, an almost pornographic moan has him reeling in delight. Almost wanting to keep you for longer than he originally planned– to shut the blinds and lock the door, trying to remember if he still has that ‘DO NOT DISTURB’ sign that he has tucked away in his desk somewhere.
But again, he knows better. When he finishes off with popping your shoulders into place, he cranks his own neck. Taking extra care of you, treating you with the same sincerity as a flower in a field. He hadn’t realized that your time is minutes from cutting into his next patient. Sighing defeatedly, he has to cut it now.
“Hey, sleepyhead,” He pinches your nose when you refuse to wake up. Much too lost in your own wonderland, the irrational fear of a chiropractor snapping your neck too far dissipates into thin air. Every part of your body feels as light as a feather. Jeno grabs your forearm, the lack of resistance resembling that of a limp noodle, causing him to snort at your stubbornness to get out of his office. He thinks it wouldn’t be so bad if you were to stay a little longer.
“C’mon, wake up!” He laughs, wrapping his arms around your shoulders to lift you onto your feet. Lifting you with little to no effort, like you weigh nothing. Strong arms surround you firmly, yet you feel a sense of security. “Did I do that well?”
“Oh god,” You loll your head onto your shoulder, giving yourself a good stretch. It amazes you when you reach out high and not a single ache or crack follows. “I haven’t been this relaxed in years.”
Jeno’s sure he could make you feel even better if you’d let him, but it’s better to leave it at what you pay him for. “Glad to hear it,” His hands instinctively seek purchase on your shoulders, comfort being a second nature. Urging you towards the door, he doesn’t miss the pout that you don when you wobble like you’ve just learned to walk. “When will I see you again?”
You still have that half lidded gaze from being snapped like a twig, but it seems that you’ve come back to earth. “When’s your next available appointment?” You lean against the doorframe.
He checks his calendar on his phone for any openings, he relays the options for you. “I’ve got an opening for Saturday next week, same time. Would you be interested?”
“Sign me up.” You answer. “I’ll see you then, Doc–” He’s grimacing at you before you can get the rest of the word in. Still not used to the informality, you huff before turning to take your leave. “I’ll see you next week, Jeno.”
“That’s what I like to hear. It was nice having you today.” He grins, waving you off before closing the door. When he hears Jisung bidding you goodbye and the chime of the bell to confirm that you’ve left the vicinity, he immediately rips his glasses off. Brushing his hair out of his face and rubbing at the prominent bridge of his nose.
He saw the way that you were ogling him when you had first entered. It was nothing new– the ladies young and old alike couldn’t get enough of him, and he definitely wasn’t oblivious to any of their advances. But when he thinks about all the ways he could bend and twist you over the furniture of his office, how he would be the reason you couldn’t walk, he comes to the realization– you were going to be a problem.
——
Saturday takes much too long to roll around, and fortunately for you Jeno contacts you no more than three days later for a cancellation. Your second appointment passed with flying colors. Jeno praises you for following the stretching regimen that he had provided you with, noting that your stiffness has already depleted exponentially. Chiropractic adjustment quickly becomes one of your favorite appointments of the week. Coming in with a smile on your face and stepping out and like a million bucks.
The same can’t be said for Jeno, however. While he’s sure that the attraction is mutual, you seem to be sending him mixed signals. Unsure if those moans are practiced or if he really evoked them from using his pure strength. Hell, he’s found himself hitting the gym even more than he already does, getting giddy when you take note of his progress.
“Have you been working out?”
“A little.” He smirks. “Why? Has it been paying off?”
“A little.” You mimic him with a subtle lick of your lips, giving his bicep an experimental squeeze. Jaw dropping at how hard the surface is. The muscle jumps when he unconsciously flexes beneath your touch.
That’s not all though. He’s noticed that you’ve gotten a bit too comfy in the time that you two have spent together. Your first visit you donned a plain workout tee paired with a baggy pair of sweats. But throughout your visits, t-shirts turn into tank tops, sweats turn into leggings, leggings turn into biker shorts– tops seeming to expose more and more of your stomach until he can see the lower curvature of your breasts.
“Oh, I forgot to mention it,” You say when Jeno pulls at your ankles, a pronounced ‘pop!’ successfully sounding around him. “Haechan was the one who recommended you to me.”
“Lee Haechan?” Jeno raises an eyebrow, the visual of the coconut headed brunette plagues his mind. Grimacing at how overbearing he can be. “Yeah, I know him.”
“I’m really glad he did,” You hum, that same damned expression that has been haunting him every night for the past few weeks. “You make me feel so good, Jeno.”
“You really need to be careful with what you say,” He tuts, appalled that such euphemisms fail to register. His voice lowering down to a low whisper, muttering under his breath. “I’m a guy, you know.”
“What was that?”
“Nothing you need to worry your pretty little head about. Lay on your tummy for me, now.”
Maybe it was the confidence that came with getting better posture. Maybe it was the fact that you were becoming more flexible after he suggested you should join the free yoga classes that your community has online. Whatever it was, it was becoming even more of a problem for not just him, but those around you too.
——
“You are an addict.” Haechan glares at you. “You’re a crack addict. You’re addicted to crack!”
Embarrassment floods your being when your coworkers take a peek at the commotion. Haechan’s choice of words certainly does not do your image any favors. You cover your face with a manila folder from your desk, not wanting to give any attention to your nuisance of a coworker. He wasn’t having it though, ripping away the barricade and getting close in on your face.
“Wanna know how I know you’re a crack addict?” He corners you.
Diverting your attention from your project, you swivel your chair in his direction to entertain his antics. “Oh, pray tell Haechan. Tell me how you know that I’m addicted to getting adjustments.”
Pulling out his phone, he presents you with a photo of a package that was addressed to his home. Raising an unamused eyebrow, your question remains unanswered. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“It’s a free roomba that I won from a raffle,” Haechan starts. “Dr. Lee’s quarter-yearly raffle to be exact.”
“...Okay?”
“Every appointment that someone I’ve referred to him has, is another entry to the raffle. And in the three weeks–” He holds out three fingers. “That you’ve been seeing Dr. Lee, guess how many entries I’ve scored.”
You’re not exactly fond of the direction this is going in, growing a bit nervous as you’ve lost track of the many times you’ve swiped your card along the pin pad that stays with Jisung at the front desk. “How many…?”
Bringing a hand to his mouth, he obnoxiously coughs to clear his throat. “Sweetheart, you have seen him ten times in three weeks.”
“You’re lying.” You gasp.
Tapping on an email from Jeno himself, he flips the screen towards your face. The evidence in all its glory specifying how many entries he’s been given. “Read it and weep, babe.” He squats down to your height in your chair, whispering into your ear mischievously. “So, tell me the truth– is he actually realigning your spine? Or is he blowing your back out instead?”
“Haechan!” You slap at him harshly, growing flustered at such an accusation. You think you’ve done a good job at being discreet about your desire for Jeno, able to keep yourself at bay every night when your vibrator clears your dirty mind for you. “We have not fucked.” You cross your arms to emphasize your point.
“Yet.” That childish grin grows. “Keep visiting him like that and it’s bound to end up like some cheesy porno.”
“We aren’t gonna fuck,” You shut him down. “That’s so unprofessional.”
“Suit yourself.” Haechan shrugs, turning on his feet to leave you alone once again. Tending to give you a mental whiplash and leaving you to clean up the mess yourself. “I’m just saying– it’s actually been kind of hard to get an appointment with him lately. Much less multiple times in the same week.”
“It’s probably just because I’m a new patient and require more adjustment.”
“Maybe so, but I’d look into that if I were you,” He bids you off with a wink. Greeting another female coworker who passed him by, returning his gesture with a wistful smile. The interaction causes your eye to twitch. You’re sorry for that poor girl– she has no idea how insufferable that man is. Turning back to you with a smug expression to gloat. “Thanks for the free roomba by the way!”
His last words have you pondering, unfortunately. Jeno does spend a great deal of time on you, and his rates are definitely generous enough for multiple visits to be feasible. Maybe there is something there.
But it’s been a really long time since you’ve been physically intimate with anyone. You’re a bit jaded in your judgment, often pinning most people’s flirting and undivided attention as mere kindness. The prospect of being able to have Jeno actually want you as much as you think about him stirs something in your stomach, annoyingly girlish butterflies fluttering around like you’re in high school again.
Who knows? It wouldn’t hurt to try and push the limits a little. What’s the worst that could happen?
——
You might’ve jumped the gun. Wearing the smallest and tightest skirt in your closet with no safety shorts underneath probably wasn’t the smartest decision. Regretting your decision and clamping your legs shut, when Jeno gives you a once over upon your arrival.
His expression was unreadable when you met at his desk. Jaw clenched unbearably tight, a hypocritical action as he’s advised you to refrain doing that on multiple occasions. Claiming that it was a main factor in the migraines you’ve vented to him about.
“So,” He speaks first, his voice gruff when he tries to cut the tension. “It seems like your thoracic alignment has improved greatly in the past few weeks.”
You nod, grateful despite the awkwardness of the situation. “I feel much better thanks to you."
“I’m glad that I was able to help,” He replies, the sentiment still there despite coming off aloof. Was there a vein popping out of his neck? “Anyways, I was thinking after this appointment, we could limit visits to maybe… Once a month?”
Haechan might’ve been onto something when he said that you were addicted. Itching to get cracked almost every other day of the week, thriving off of that high that’s akin to walking on clouds. To go cold turkey and only experience such a luxury once a week almost feels devastating.
You’re hesitant, but you have enough pride to not be so desperate as to object. “We can do that, I guess.” You deflate into the leather chair, feeling oddly petulant for your age.
Hopefully Jeno doesn’t catch your dismissiveness. You assume so at least when he carries on like normal. Gesturing towards the drop bed as per usual, you follow him helplessly like a pied piper. Pulling your skirt down when it hikes up with every other step, you’re inwardly chastising yourself for being so dumb. Of course this would make him feel awkward. You were basically setting yourself up for the easiest wardrobe malfunction ever– the worst part being that it was completely deliberate.
“You know the drill,” He says when you stand idle. Hesitant to do so, knowing that he’s going to get an all access view to the racy panties you wore today. When you take too long you feel anxious at how he hollows his cheeks, his tongue poking out impatiently at your lack of initiative. “What’s wrong?”
People were usually one or the other: book-smart or street-smart. Not Lee Jeno, though. If the doctorate that hung loud and proud behind him wasn’t proof enough, he was also much too intuitive and introspective for his good. The emotional intelligence that most people lack was evident with every conversation the two of you shared during your visits. You knew better than to think he’d be oblivious to such a drastic change in your wardrobe, every outfit prior paling in comparison to the stunt you’ve pulled today.
And if the way he’s vented about the other patients he’s had that have made a pass at him was any indication that he hated unsolicited advances– you’ve basically set yourself for not just rejection, but a strained relationship with someone whose company you’ve grown to enjoy too.
On second thought, limiting visits to once a month would be ideal. Hopefully he’ll forget about it and the two of you can act like nothing happened.
You can tell his patience wears thinner when he crosses his arms across his chest, hip leaned against the top of the bed. Chelsea boot clad foot tapping against the floor in a steady rhythm. Left with no other choice than to suck it up and embarrass yourself, you lift each leg over the bed as slowly as possible, hands clutching at the hem as you lay back with your stomach taut with fear.
At this point, it’s like clockwork. Your head falling back into those large palms without fail. Jeno is always tucking the stray hairs that obstruct your features behind your ear, glad that you always kept your eyes closed whenever he’s this near.
“You’re tense.” Jeno mumbles.
You apologize and try to relax as much as possible. Relinquishing the tension in your neck so you’re weightless against him. Such pathetic attempts are futile however, Jeno tsk’ing at your lack of comprehension to his instructions.
“Your shoulders,” His fingers slide down the expanse of your neck to the span of the offending body part. The smooth glide eliciting a ticklish tingle that now has every inch of you clenching, especially between your thighs. Snatching your shaky hands that are gripping onto your skirt for dear life with each of his own, forcing them to your side. “Let go.”
The strength that he exuded against your resistance was terrifying. Your heart pounding against your chest erratically, fighting your hardest to shoo away the thought of him taking you right where you lay.
Now that there’s nothing that stands in Jeno’s way, he carries on. Fighting a battle of his own, anything he looks at causing a problem downstairs. Look too high and he’s met with your twitching thighs. Look too low and the top of your chest is free residence. And trail even lower, your eyes are shut tight. Bottom lip caught between your teeth nervously, you almost look dumb. No, you do– but he thinks it’s so cute.
So cute and free for the taking. The height of his rolling chair leaves the top of your head right between his legs, close to his growing crotch. He thinks about how he could just unzip right now and sneak his cock right between those gorgeous lips. They’re a different shade than usual, and he loves how it looks on you. Was that another part of this little ploy of yours?
Twisting your neck from side to side, the cacophonous snaps are accompanied by that sweet gasp. Inhaling a sharp bout of air when his grip on your neck is harsher than usual, fingertips digging into you even deeper than before. “Does it hurt…?” He croons, unable to control the grin that forms when he grazes down your forearms.
“A… a little,” You’re squeamish at the flicks of fire that his touch leaves behind, prickles of pleasure going off like bombs in a land mine.
“Oh, poor baby,” He fakes sympathy, now roaming freely around your entire being, save for the spots you need him the most. “It’s because you don’t listen to me. I told you to let go.”
“I do listen to you.” You weakly protest, upset with yourself for displeasing him. A need to satisfy when you look up at him fondly, proving yourself that you can follow what he says.
“I don’t think you do,” He retorts coldly, returning a bleak expression that’s unlike the warm Jeno you’ve grown familiar with in the past few weeks. “I can tell you’ve been neglecting yourself. Have you still been stretching? You’re so… stiff. Do I have to loosen you up? Maybe we do need to keep seeing each other.”
Such crude words stir unspeakable feelings in your lower half, now squirming against him when you try to flee from his hold. “Jeno, I–”
He doesn’t allow you to finish whatever senseless gibberish you had to say. Squishing your cheeks shut, his chest now flush against your back. Prominent nose now at the nape of your neck. Inhaling profusely, the mixture of your perfume and shampoo has him grunting in a sensory overload.
“Just be quiet,” He spits.
A single finger trails from where his lips are located at your nape, all the way down your spine. Admiring his work like an artist who has just created their magnum opus based off of their muse. Every vertebrae perfectly aligned, your back smooth beneath his touch. It was a lie– you took great care of yourself, everything from your posture to your confidence improving vastly. But while he had good intentions, you walking in with that skimpy outfit utterly destroyed his original plan of keeping your relationship strictly professional.
While he was able to build you to his flawless image, it gives him a surge of power to know that he can just as easily break you.
He wants to.
“Lay on your stomach.” He demands. A complete contrast to the kind guidance he typically provides, not helping his own case when he slides his arms under your abdomen. Flipping you over when you take too long to do as he says. Gasping at how quickly he tosses you, remorseless when you yelp out in surprise.
His grip immediately seeks purchase on your back, maniacal when he continues the appointment like usual. The cold air conditioning hitting the crease of your bottom. Your eyes widen when you realize that your skirt has rode high enough for your ass to be exposed to Jeno’s wandering gaze. Wrists are immediately slapped away with a stinging pain when you try to protect your modesty. “No!” You scream.
“What did I say?” He pinches the inside of your thigh, taunting you for more of that sweet cry when he hurts you more. “See? You really don’t listen. I’ve warned you so many times, and look where that’s gotten you. Can’t you just be a good girl for me?”
“I already am!” You talk back, squealing when he smacks your exposed ass. “Fuck– Jeno!”
“I don’t think you are,” He scoffs, kneading the flesh that’s already forming a bruise from the slap. “Good girls don’t walk around with their asses out like little sluts.”
This mental flashbang of such a cruel Jeno paired with unrelenting caresses has a bout of wetness seeping from your core. Back arching pathetically when the aftershock travels to your clit. Biting your cheek when he laughs at your compromised position. Having to pull himself away from his desires for just a moment, remembering that you were here to be adjusted.
“See how bad you are for me? You made me forget what I was supposed to be doing.” His cadence now completely riddled with saccharine. “Let me take care of you, baby.”
Jeno has taken the words out your mouth. Physically incapable of forming a complete sentence, still in too much shock. Hands coming up to the top of your back, carrying on his adjustments much more harshly. One crack after another, that same air that fills your brain that you thrive off of. Moaning out in pleasure at the relief he provides. Both an angel and a devil with his hands.
“See?” He bends over, pulling your blouse down from your back to expose your shoulder blade. Laving his tongue against you before nipping at the crook of your jaw. Kissing whatever skin that your blouse will reveal. “If this is how obscenely you act when I’m just doing my job, I wonder how much louder you get when I do what I want.”
“What do you want?” You gasp out when he hikes your shirt up, now traveling down only to come back up, licking a fat stripe from the bottom all the way back up. Your hands grip into the sides of the drop bed, nails scratching crescents into the faux black leather.
“Don’t be dense,” He grunts out while ripping your blouse over your head. Disposing of the material carelessly, meeting the fine slope of your back with an insatiable lust. The clasp of your lacy bra resembles a ribbon on top of a Christmas present. He unclasps it, eager to unwrap his gift. So close to achieving perfection, he loses himself to his desires. Mounting himself above you, a confined cock that feels massive now grinding between your thighs. He enjoys the struggle when you pathetically try to kick and squirm. “You know what I want.”
You do, and you know that you want it just as badly. Both day and night dreams of Jeno ravaging you with his brute strength. Marking you as his and bending you to close to impossible positions. Drooling at the thought of being fucked on every corner of his office loud enough to break the interior of the soundproof walls.
When you fall slack beneath him, he proceeds to strip you of your skirt. Still appalled by how lecherous you could be. The fall from grace as the friendly office lady to the woman he’s wanted to fuck senseless becoming a bane to his existence.
“Please, Jeno…” You beg of him. Wanting him to do something, anything to satiate this new ache. Compared to the back pains you’ve experienced in the past, Jeno’s inflicted a new problem for you.
“What’s wrong, baby?” He coos.
“H-hurts,” You sniffle, unable to cope with not being full of him. “I need you to fix it.”
“Hm, what hurts?”
A full set of teeth form into the most devilish grin when you reach behind you, taking his hand into yours and guiding it to your sopping pussy, urging him to feel around the seat of the destroyed fabric. Panties now ruined to the point it sticks into your folds, thighs twitching wantonly. It was degrading. To be close to completely naked under a fully clothed man, yet you couldn’t help but love it. “Here… hurts here.”
“And what do you want me to do about it?”
“I need you, Jeno,” You practically sob. “Need you to fix it.”
As practitioner and patient, he had sworn long ago to provide his clientele with the best service. That applies now more than ever. Your wish was his command, and he plans on delivering on that tenfold.
Climbing down your body, he stops past your ankles. Gripping at your panties and sliding them down your legs, growling at your glistening lips that shine bright under the white ceiling lights. Finding your ass once again and parting them for good measure, groaning when your cheeks jiggle back into position upon letting them go. “Gorgeous, beautiful body,” He praises you, fingers immediately darting towards your folds to give them an experimental flick, reeling at how easily you flinch under him. “And so fucking sensitive, too.”
Pushing up at your thighs, he has you in a downward dog, knees planted firmly on the drop bed and your back bent for him. Jeno’s hand sneaks around your belly and down your lower region, index and middle slotting around your clit.
“Ahh–,” You gasp out loud, clasping a hand over your mouth at the attention to your most sensitive nerve. Wetting the tips of his fingers between your folds, traveling back instantly to caress circles into the nub. Lips coming down to the base of your back once again, already knowing many of your erogenous zones through the subtle fondling from your past visits. “Feels good.”
“Yeah?” He hums, pecking smooches down your ass. A one track mind to inhale your heady scent for himself.
“So good, fuck–!” Toppling over when he brings that same fat tongue to the center of your core, coated in spit when he shakes his head from side to side. Eating you out from the back with a vice, his two fingers still unrelenting against your clit. Pushing at your button and the tip of his appendage fighting to break past the barrier, succeeding with only little resistance. Eyes rolling to the back of your head when you feel him against your walls, shameless slurping as your wetness trickles down his throat. “Oh my fucking god.”
“Tastes so good, baby.” He rasps, breaking away for a moment of breath. Replacing his tongue with the fingers that were attacking your clit. Wrapping his other arm around your thigh to keep you from falling off, entertained at how you pathetically try to support yourself by planting your head into your forearms. Tummy sucking in and gasping for breath when he finds your g-spot with embarrassing ease. Almost as if your body was made for him to navigate.
“So spoiled,” He shakes his head at your incessant moaning, not surprised that he was right on the money to think you’d be such a whiny bitch. “Pretty girl acts like a slut to get fucked and she gets what she wants. You’re lucky this cunt makes up for it.”
When you turn to look behind you, you’re met with a gaze devoid of anything but a need to fuck and claim, locked onto your pussy like it was the only thing he knew in this world. His lips slick with your juices, hair a brazen mess that poked in several directions– the epitome of sex. Your desires personified into a single being.
Catching the way you ogle him, he snickers at your dumbfounded face. Amping up the intensity of his finger fucking, his palm slapping against your core with every meeting of the hilt to your entrance. Fucked out gazes lock onto one another, and he needs to make it known that you don’t hold a candle to him. Opening his mouth to make a show of lolling his tongue out, coming back to get a taste of your puckered rim.
“Wait, Jeno, not there!” You claw at his hair, grappling harshly against his scalp. The burn causes him to wince, features scrunching yet remaining adamant on tasting every part of your body. Pinning you down at your back, you’re now unable to fight him when your chest falls completely flat. Your other arm rendered useless as it’s your anchor to keep you from completely toppling over. Despite your protests, the circles that he draws with his pink muscle has you singing contradictory praises.
That knot at the core of your abdomen constricts, losing autonomy over your body and granting Jeno complete control. Features twisting to euphoria when he reaches lengths further with his fingers than past partners have with their own cocks. And when he’s able to break past the barrier of your tightest barrier of your upper hole and he flicks at the spongy wall inside, your vision goes white.
A broken cry crashes along the four walls, droplets of sticky wetness decorating Jeno from the bridge of his nose to the top of his collarbones. Immediately breaking away from you to focus on fingering you until you’ve given him all of your cum. Jaw dropped wide open as he tries to catch every bout of squirt. Nails scratching at his scalp and lacing into the strands for stability, the pain only aiding in the ache of his restrained cock. The stuffing of the leather now seeping out from how deeply you’ve scratched against it, its wood frame misaligned with the weight that Jeno had planted on top of you.
Your body is limp when your orgasm subsides, aftershocks still causing you to jolt when Jeno gives your pussy a light slap.
“Best orgasm of your life, huh?” He gloats, cleaning off the remaining stickiness on his face with the back of his hand. Bringing his wrist that’s adorned by a Rolex up to his knuckles. Your essence now etched into every one of his senses. You lay almost lifeless and without a response. A pathetic sight that causes Jeno to scowl, offended that you could even think that he was done with you.
Still trying to catch your breath, you hear a ghost of a whisper, metal clanking and clothes rustling. When you muster up the energy, you catch Jeno in your peripheral. Unbuttoning his black dress shirt and unbuckling his belt, the brand name material slipping from his clutches. The metal of the buckle clanking against the floor, his exposed collarbones shining with perspiration and your cum.
He circles around the bed to meet you, looking down at you with a snide smile when you realize that he’s now shirtless. It was true, he really did have visuals sculpted by the Gods. Broad shoulders on top of a pronounced chest, slimming down to a lean waist.
Slowly unzipping his jeans, pushing them down along with his boxers. Finally revealing his cock in all of its glory, monstrous in size. Long and girthy, the biggest you’ve ever encountered. Slapping against his stomach and his precum covered tip meeting his bellybutton. It’s almost terrifying, there’s no way you could ever take him.
As if he’s read your mind, he cups your face sweetly like he’s done plenty of times before– yet it holds more of a threatening aura than any positive reinforcements. “Don’t be scared. I’ll make sure it fits.” He murmurs, loving how you instinctually take his thumb into your mouth.
When he leaves your wet cavern, he grabs at the base of his cock and places it just below your lips. “Spit.” He instructs, leaving no room for objection.
Dropping a thick glob of saliva, he immediately bobs it up and down to coat it along his length. A significant amount of precum aiding him even further in lubrication. The mix of fluids riddling the room with the pungent smell of sex. You’re both inebriated off of the prospect of what’s about to occur next.
Biceps are angled deliciously when he bends down to wrap his arms around your waist, flipping you back onto your back. A shadow of your sweet doctor fading in when he climbs on top of you once again, despite how beautifully he glows. You two nod at each other when he lines himself up with your core, thankful for the pool that has formed between your thighs.
“Breathe for me, alright?” He says. It takes a great deal to control himself, wanting nothing more than to plunge into you in one go. Regardless, he controls his urges. His tip enters you slowly, the both of you gasping in unison at the newfound pleasure. Weeks of mixed signals now coming to fruition with every inch he goes deeper. “God, you’re fucking tight.”
Tears prick at the corners of your eyes. Jeno was so thick that it felt like he was splitting you in half, parting your walls and filling up every crevice inside. Each inch gives you a sense of fulfillment when you earn his praises. Showering you with compliments, affirming how good you’re making him feel and how wet you are.
“That’s my good little slut,” Jeno groans into your hair. Delivering a quick kiss to your ear before licking up the shell, hoping it distracts you from the strain. He stills after bottoming out, merely rutting around in place of fucking you mercilessly. Taking a moment to relish in the way your pussy encapsulates his cock, coating him with your sticky arousal to the point it leaks out.
Pain quickly fades into blissful pleasure. Cupping his jaw to urge him to look at you, you feel your chest burn at his handsome face. His ruined hair still looks perfect when it falls over his forehead messily, lips red and swollen from all he’s done to you. “I’m okay now, you can move.” You confirm, and the shift in his demeanor lets you know that you don’t have to tell him twice.
He starts with a few experimental thrusts, watching you closely and seeing what spots make you tick. Noting that you like when he puts power into his thrusts. Gripping the frame of the cushion your head rests on, he lifts himself to pull out until it’s only the tip that connects you. Granting you maybe a second of peace before immediately plunging back down, causing you to screech out in euphoria.
From there, everything is fair game. Bodies slapping against one another when he grips your ankles and spreads them apart. Fucking you with purpose, everything from his hairline to his abs are covered in sweat. The shine makes his skin glow gold, every taut muscle accentuated by the perspiration.
While your pussy is a delight and has him throwing his head back, he still has so many fantasies that he wants to fulfill. Releasing your ankles, your legs plop down weakly. Pulling out of you and leaving you empty, causing you to shriek at the loss. Scrambling to sit up when he stands up, trying to grab at his cock to lead him back inside. “No, no, no–!”
Nothing could have prepared you for when he lifts you up from the bed with nothing more than a grunt, delivering another stinging slap when you scream at him. Slapping at his shoulders to let you down even if your body betrays you by wrapping your legs around his waist. Traveling only a few paces, he slams you against the nearest wall. Framed photos and contents in bookshelves shaking, gasping out when he realigns his cock with your entrance.
When he dons a blank expression, as if wondering what to do next, you furrow your eyebrows together. Pussy still empty and in need of being filled, you whine. “Jeno, hurry, please.”
He doesn’t thrust up into you however, instead he plants you down onto his cock. Using his pure arm strength to lift you up and down like a fuckdoll. His forearms blazing with bulging veins. Your back is burning as it scrapes against the wall deliciously. Amazed at such fortitude, you continue to cry out when he hits that spot inside you with precision each time. A babbling mess when your chests collide and he licks up the salty tears that you’ve shed, laughing into your ear mischievously.
“I hope you know that nobody will ever be able to fuck you like this,” He laughs out, grip on your ass spreading the cheeks apart to accentuate his point. “No matter who you find in the future– they’ll never be as good as me. You know that right, baby?”
You bob your head to agree with whatever you caught from his sentence, stroking his ego just the way he likes. Even if you wanted to, you couldn’t formulate your own thoughts at this point. Much like the slight high you experience whenever Jeno had adjusted you before, your head light and empty– you now feel it at its utmost potential. Unable to control your body when a trail of spit leaks out of the corner of your chin.
Jeno stares at you fondly, arms growing just a tad tired. He transfers the effort into his legs, planting his weight into his calves to stabilize you. Allowing for one of your legs to fall to go even deeper, your other thigh still folded in. Holding your head with his hand, he knows you’ve floated into another state of being, your pussy unconsciously clasping around him every time he angles just right.
“What a dumb, pretty baby,” He practically sings, utterly in awe at how fucked out he’s gotten you. Licking off the drool from your lip with the intent to clean you up nicely. Dropping your leg that’s hiked up, he lifts you once again. Now leading you to his desk, letting you down only to bend you over. “Let’s finish together, okay?”
Moaning out something that sounded like a yes, he takes what he can get when he reenters you for the third time. Eyes fluttering shut when you surround him once again. “Think this pussy might be the death of me.” He grunts.
“Your cock is soo good,” You mewl, your breasts cool against the mahogany of his desk. Seeking sanctuary by grabbing onto whatever trinkets or paperweights that litter the surface. The back of your thighs aching from trying to keep up with Jeno’s relentless pace. “So, so, big.”
“Yeah?” He lifts a sweat dripped brow, pistoning his hips with generosity. Taking care of his patient will always be his top priority. Fingers meeting your clit one last time, swiping at it with ease from how wet it is. “Cum for me now, baby. You earned it. Did so well for me.”
Clenching his thighs, he fucks into you one last time. Pushing into your body with his own so forcefully that you ride up the desk. One last cry to the empty vicinity, nothing registers except for Jeno. His scent, how he feels, those hands that have gotten you into so much trouble– he really fucked you so good. So good that all you know at the moment is his name. Your orgasm washing over you, pussy clenching impossibly tightly he roars. More squirt shooting out of you, a sticky mess falling onto the carpet floor of his office.
In a few more self indulgent thrusts of his own, Jeno pulls out completely. Pumping himself no more than two times before his cum flies out. Bobbing up and down to get out every last drop of creamy white, painting your beautiful back with his liquid. Harsh gasps are paired with your patternless pants, the both of you were spent.
Jeno decides to utilize the last of his energy for good. Lifting you up once again and walking towards the comfortable loveseat that rests in the corner of the room. The sticky fluids aren't much of a problem while you catch your breaths. He wraps his arms around to hold you in his lap, your head resting against his chest. Rubbing circles into your neck and whispering sweet praises, waiting patiently for you to come back to earth.
“You okay?” He asks when your eyelids flutter up slowly, that shine back in your face to let him know that you’ve recovered. “Lost you there for a little bit.” He teases, pinching at your cheek playfully.
“Oh, shut up.” You pitifully try to push him away, much to no avail. Flashing you a charming grin that rivals the sun itself. “I knew that chiropractors were quacks.”
“Not my fault you’re hot as fuck.”
“I said ‘shut uup’,” You whine, dropping your head into his shoulder to give yourself more time to recuperate. “Let me rest. I think you’ve somehow caused more damage to my back than heal it.”
It’s obvious that you’re overexaggerating, but Jeno can’t help but accept the backhanded compliment with pride. Admiring the relaxed smile you try to hide from him, he pats your hair that’s sticking up back down.
“Guess we’ll just have to keep seeing each other then.” He replies, falling into a slumber himself.
——
“So.”
“So?”
“We’re okay right?” You tilt your head curiously, now fully rested and cleaned up. Jeno having to rush the both of you to the staff only bathroom when Jisung left for break, a few scanty touches here and there.
Hands lodged into his pockets, Jeno is even more handsome with the afterglow of sex. You hope you’re at least a fraction as presentable as he is. “If you’re okay, I’d say we’re just peachy. However–”
“Oh god.” You dread the worst case scenario of being blacklisted and having to find another chiropractor.
“Will you let me finish?” He glowers at you, making you shut up immediately. Now that you know that Lee Jeno is not to be messed with. “Anyways,” He continues. “I think you deserve a treat for being so good.”
Taking his right hand out of his pocket, he presents you with a business card. A complete contrast to the simplicity of Jeno’s, a completely black square with red accents. Before you get a chance to read what’s written, he speaks again. “That’s my colleague here at the complex. He’s actually right across the hall.”
Now given the opportunity, you find that Jeno has referred you to a nail bar. “And what is this treat you’re offering?”
“Well, if you’re ever interested in getting a manicure or pedicure, you’ll want to go to him. He’s the best in town. Nobody does nail art like him,” He chuckles. “Let me know if you’re interested. I’ll ask him to give you a discount.”
If there’s anything you’ve learned from these past few weeks, it’s that investing in yourself a little goes a long way. Spending too much time worried about necessities that require minimal maintenance, you’ve forgotten to indulge yourself along the way. Looking down at your nail beds whose cuticles you’ve failed to tend to, you take Jeno’s offer into consideration.
“I’ll keep that in mind, thanks.” You give him your warmest smile. “Can I ask you something though?”
“Go for it.”
“Haechan told me it’s been hard to schedule with you recently, but I’ve been seeing you pretty often.” You try to phrase it as humbly as possible, not wanting to come off as arrogant. “Is there a reason for that?”
“I mean, you did need more adjustment than my other patients who have been long time regulars. But I guess I got a little ahead of myself.” He boxes his nose, and for the first time ever you think you’ve caught Dr. Lee Jeno’s cool exterior slipping. “You have a really nice ass.”
“Thanks.” You deadpan. “You have nice arms– and legs, and a really nice… nevermind.”
Shaking his head at you, he walks you out when you take your leave. Bidding you adieu with a friendly pat, the both of you thankful that the heated sex hasn’t obstructed your relationship as patient and doctor at all.
You reach high into the sky, feeling like you’re at your absolute best. Wondering what else you can do to improve your state of being. Thinking back to the business card that you had pocketed, you locate the other door adjacent to Jeno’s. Much to his description, there is a sign that indicates that there is very much a beauty salon on the other side of that door.
Shrugging to yourself, you decide you’ll sleep on his offer. Making your way to the front desk to find Jisung eating away at his meal. You realize you’ve already grown fond of how this business is run.
“Come back and see us!” Jisung waves at you, to which you return with equal enthusiasm. “Hope to see you again soon!”
You realize it’s inevitable when you exit the front lobby and step out into the parking lot. The large Neo Therapy Practitioners sign standing proud at the awning above you, the new business card taking up space in your purse–
You’ll be seeing them alright.
end (☺?)
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author’s note: if you made it all the way here, thank you for reading! i hope you enjoyed it.
i really want to thank panty nonnie who i’ve been in contact with through dms and have grown very close with in the past month. they’ve been an absolute angel and i couldn’t have gotten over my writer’s block without them. so, if you’re reading this (again hehe) just know that you’re the best and am more than grateful for all you’ve done for me. <3
ღPairing: Seonghwa x Reader (f)
ღGenre: loosely inspired by Euphoria au, enemies to lovers au
ღWord Count: 2,283
ღWarnings: hate sex, degradation kink, dom!hwa, sub!reader, dirty talk, spit kink
ღRated: 18+ mdni, smut with no plot
ღSummary: You break up with San and somehow end up in Seonghwa’s bed
ღDedication: @mejuii @downtoamagicalland i’m only posting this because you both peed yourselves when you read this, so I knew it was good 🥲
The pit of guilt in your stomach can’t even begin to match the puddle of lust between your legs. You groan his name because he is making you feel so damn good but you know as soon as it’s over, the shame will creep up on you.
summary: he's your best friend and roommate, but during the heat of summer and the confinement of quarantine, you just can't seem to help yourselves.
note: 18+ content, minors DNI. // this fic is just pure self indulgence, but i'm kind of liking the cheeky college au yunho vibes, you can blame the new wonderwall photos
warnings: best friend!yunho, fem!reader, quarantine and talk of early covid times, sexual frustration, big dick!yunho, oral (m receiving), fingering, semi rough sex, use of toys, light overstimulation, basically reader is pent up and struggling to get off and hot bestie yunho helps out. please let me know if I missed any.
pairings: yunho x reader
genre: college non idol au; suggestive, smut, fluff, comedy
word count: 8.5K
It’s a little impossible not to look at him when he’s like this. He’s been your friend since the start of college, but your roommate for only a little over four months. You didn’t think it would be this difficult. It’s not as if you didn’t know he was attractive, of course you did, but you had always found a steady friendly rhythm with him that never turned overly flirtatious, so living with him should have been safe. It probably would have been until the firm constraints of quarantine, and now it feels like you’re trapped in a pressure cooker.
He’s collapsed back into the couch cushions, Xbox controller in hand and his headset askew, one ear off and one ear on. He’s wearing a pair of ratty gray sweatpants, ones that have been driving you particularly insane the last few weeks, and a fitted black tank top. Yunho’s eyes are trained on the screen, intensely focused. You watch him play, one thumb circling on the left joystick, his other clicking buttons calculated and quick, the tendons in his hands jumping.
“I said on the left,” Yunho says through the mic, his voice firm.
Your thighs press together unconsciously, four months of this absolute sexual drought was starting to take its toll and even his irritated competitive voice was frustrating you. You focus down on your phone from your spot on the opposite side of the couch and continue scrolling Instagram.
“Obviously it’s our left, we’re going the same way, Mingi.” Yunho groans and you bite the inside of your cheek.
It’s almost ninety degrees today and the two measly window units you have in the apartment are working overtime, but still not bringing the temperature down to a manageable temperature. Yunho’s skin has a light sheen of sweat across it, and you find yourself swallowing hard, trying to look anywhere else but at him.
“Nice,” Yunho comments through his headset and you can hear the echo of Mingi and the other guys shouting through the one headphone that sits half off his right ear.
When he takes in a sharp breath, hunching over with his elbows now on his knees to focus, you have to go. Climbing over the back of the couch so you don’t have to walk in front of the TV and break his concentration, you pass through the small breakfast nook and into the kitchen to open the freezer. Sometimes when you were sure he was going to be occupied for long enough, you’d slip into the shower and take care of this frustrated tension yourself, but lately even that wasn’t working. Four months without being properly touched was officially too much.
You don’t hear him come into the kitchen until he chuckles at you, watching you lean into the open freezer, the cold frosty air passing across your cheeks.
“Hot?” He raises an eyebrow.
“Yeah,” you sigh and back up from the freezer to shut the door, opting to lean against the kitchen counter by the sink behind you in your small alley kitchen, “if I knew when we signed our lease that we were going to be literally trapped inside all summer I would have said let’s spring for the better place with central air.”
“Same,” he steps past you to reach into the fridge and grab a water bottle.
You watch him as he cracks the seal on the top and takes a long swig, the muscles in his throat tensing pleasantly when he swallows.
“What?” he says, noticing the way your eyes are on him.
You clear your throat, shrugging, “Nothing, I’m just out of it today.”
“Ah,” he shrugs. After a beat he turns to you, “What are you doing today, anyways?”
You sigh, “probably the same thing I’ve been doing since class ended? Nothing and more nothing? Maybe I’ll finally pick up a new hobby,”
“You’ve picked up several,” he notes, a teasing glint in his eye.
“Yes, I know, ha ha.”
“I just don’t know why you thought picking up knitting in the middle of June would be a good idea,” he shrugs and starts to head back out of the kitchen. “Our air conditioner’s broken? Add more wool to the problem, that should solve it.”
“Oh, whatever, at least I’m trying to fill the time,” You retort, heading back out to the main room with him, “I seriously never thought I’d say I wish classes would start up again, but at least I’d have something to do.”
“Yeah,” he flops back down on the couch, tossing the controller onto the coffee table and taking another swig of water, “that and the not working thing is really kind of fucked.”
“Yeah,”
You had both worked as servers last year until Yunho lucked into a bar tending job at a better spot. When he brought you over with him it was the financial boost you needed to start really saving some money, but now with quarantine and the uncertainty, you are both eating into your savings month after month.
“They said it should end by September,” he shrugs, “if we made it four months, we can make it two more.”
“Flu season,” you shake your head, “it’s not ending.”
He rolls his eyes, “you are the least optimistic person I’ve ever met.”
“Realistic,” you counter.
“Yeah,” he swipes a hand across his brow, “well if we’re still not working by October that’s gonna be tough,”
“Yeah,” you can’t help but worry the inside of your lip with your teeth, the idea of it nerve wracking.
“Mingi said his place might be hiring,” he notes, “but the pay isn’t great.”
“It’s pay,” you say, “and hiring in the middle of a pandemic has to be a good sign, right?”
“Maybe,”
“I have to figure out what I can do from home,” you murmur, “I’ve only ever been a server, I don’t know who would hire me for a desk job.”
He sits up a bit, and you can see his brain shift into problem solving mode, one of the many things you love about him. He thinks for a minute and then says, “You could do something like a call center?”
“Eh, maybe,” you shrug, “not ideal.”
“Transcribe stuff?” He offers.
“I checked into that, the pay is terrible,”
“Okay, so a last resort.” He thinks again, biting his lip, then looking up at you with bright eyes, “maybe you could finally do some freelance stuff? Maybe put a portfolio together, I could help with the website,”
The way he’s looking at you makes you want to melt into the couch, but you manage, “Yeah, I could do that. It might take time to make it profitable, but it’s a good idea.”
He smiles at you, “You should, you’d be good at it.”
“I’ll think about it,” you agree.
His smile quirks into something a bit more wry, and you know he’s about to say something sarcastic, “In the meantime there’s always OnlyFans.”
That is not at all what you expected him to say, and you can barely respond, “What?”
“Calm down, I’m kidding,” he laughs at your panicked expression, “I know you wouldn’t be comfortable with that.”
“Yeah,” his soft laugh helps you relax, and you continue, “it’s not like I have anything against the people who do, I mean, get it if you can get it right?”
He laughs again, covering his mouth with his hand before he says, “y/n, relax. Besides, I doubt you’ve ever taken a nude photo in your life.”
A sharp pang of heat runs through you, but you can’t help but fire back, “Yes, I have?”
Both his eyebrows raise high, “I didn’t think you’d admit to it if you had,”
You never talk like this with him. Short of you both checking in to make sure your respective dates went well, and Yunho having a slight history of eyeing up your past partners a little too much to make sure they weren’t total assholes, romance and sex was not a frequent topic. Something about the thick summer air and the fact that you had been trapped inside for months on end in such close quarters with him had you getting a little bold. “Yunho, I’m not a prude. I’m just selective,”
“I’m just surprised,” he raises his hands in mock defeat, “you’ve just always seemed like kind of a romantic, less college hookup.”
“Yeah,” you settle back against the arm of the couch, “I guess you’re right, but being a romantic doesn’t mean I don’t hookup with people. It’s just been…a while. And it’s not like I’ve sent a ton of nudes or something, I don’t mean that, I just mean that I have, once or twice.”
“You seem nervous,” he chuckles, “I’m not judging. I think it’s nice that you’re selective.”
“Thanks,” you manage, not sure what to say to something like that.
He lets it lie for just a minute and then says it, unable to help himself, “who are you even sending nudes to?”
“Sent,” you correct, “Past tense,”
“Still,” he presses a little, a smile still across his mouth and you know that he’s just being playful. If you told him to stop, he would, if you said you were uncomfortable he would back off immediately, but there’s something open there, and if you just step through you’re not sure where this conversation might go.
You groan, “Okay, fine,” he grins, “but we’re never talking about this again and you cannot tease me.”
“Cross my heart,” he says, and he mimes it, his finger dragging into an X across his chest.
“Do you remember Park Seonghwa?” You say, and your cheeks heat thinking about the very short lived but very lovely relationship you had in sophomore year.
His mouth drops open a little surprised, “Yeah, I definitely do.”
“What?” You press him.
“I don’t know who I expected,” he says honestly, “you could do worse. He’s a good guy,”
“I know, it’s a shame,”
“What is?” he cocks his head to the side.
“We just didn’t really gel long term,” you shrug, “but he was a really sweet guy, the kind who plans dates and stuff? Plus, the rest,” you catch yourself, blushing harder and dragging a hand over your face, “I can’t believe I’m telling you this.”
His mouth is pressed in a tight line, holding in a laugh before saying, “I mean you have to tell me now,”
You sigh and let it rush out of you, “The sex was good, like really good. We just weren’t in love with each other so everything kind of faded after a while.”
“You’re blushing really hard right now,” he grins, his tongue in cheek.
“I said you couldn’t make fun of me,” you groan, “I don’t interrogate you about your sexual escapades.”
“Escapades?” His eyebrow raises.
“Whatever, you know what I mean.”
“I know,” he shakes his head, “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to tease you. It’s cute,”
Your stomach flip flops, “Great,”
“But I’m sorry anyways, that it didn’t work out,” he leans back into his side of the couch and takes another drink of water, glancing out the window briefly before returning his eyes on you.
“It’s fine,” you shrug, “it was a while ago.”
“Mm,” he nods, “so that’s a no to OnlyFans, then?”
He’s good at twisting moments back around towards a joke, keeping things light whenever there’s a serious turn in conversation. You give him a smile, “Yeah, that’s a no.”
He takes a deep intake of breath and exhales long, bouncing his leg, tapping his fingers along the side of his knee. You love this energy he has, seemingly boundless and pouring out of him in the smallest ways. It’s been months since he’s been able to properly visit the dance studio and see most of his friends other than you, you’ve both been good and careful about the pandemic, but you can see that it leaves him tense.
You’re about to ask him what he’s going to do with the rest of his day, when his head snaps back you and he says, seemingly out of the blue, “Just Park Seonghwa, then?”
“What?” You ask, confused.
“You said you’re selective,” he explains, “so you’ve only sent pictures to him?”
You feel yourself blush again, heat spreading across your cheeks, and your stomach knots tight. He’s walking an invisible line that you’ve always kept cleanly between you, and you have no idea how you should respond. “Why do you want to know?” Your voice sounds smaller than you wanted it to.
“I’m curious, I guess,” he shrugs, but his eyes don’t leave yours.
You shift positions on the couch, desperately trying to ignore just how tight your shorts seem to suddenly be where the denim bunches against your core. “No, not just him.”
“Interesting,” he says.
“There was a guy I was talking to at the beginning of lockdown,” you explain, thinking back on your brief connection, “we were supposed to meet up for a date and then the stay-at-home orders came down, but we kept talking.”
“Oh,” his eyes widen a little, “I’m sorry, are you guys still… are you seeing someone, and I have like no idea?”
You laugh, “No, no,” you wave him off, “we eventually just stopped talking. We were just messing around for a while.”
“Damn,” he shakes his head, “I thought I was just the most unobservant man on the planet for second,”
You shake your head, thinking back to your time attempting to sext the guy you met on Tinder during the first month of quarantine. It was fun at first, but something about him just didn’t do it. He never knew what to say, was focused on himself, and he was cute, but he left you more frustrated than when you started talking half the time.
“He wasn’t like… an asshole or anything?” Yunho cocks his head to the side when he asks, his eyes studying you.
“No,” you smile at him, “he was nice just not really… helping,”
“Ah,” he clears his throat, his eyes flicking away. Now you have crossed the line, officially. Standing in this strange new space where you’re alluding to your orgasms, or lack thereof, with a man who up to this point had made it clear he just viewed you as a friend.
You glance down at your phone nervously, not a single notification to open and distract you from this. The apartment is quiet for a beat, just the sound of the wheezing window unit pumping tepid air into the room. Your head snaps back up when he says, “So he couldn’t get you off,”
“Yunho,” your whole body feels tense and anxious at his words, “what are we doing?”
“Talking,” he answers with no hesitation, and for the first time the way he looks at you feels different.
“This doesn’t feel like talking,”
He holds your gaze, “We can stop talking if you want.”
You’ve already come this far, and whatever you’re about to do or not do might fully ruin the delicately balanced friendship you’ve crafted with him, but you’re pretty sure you don’t care. “We can talk,” you assure him.
The space between you on the couch feels miles long. Your eyes flick over him, his position reclined against the back of his half of the sectional, his knees spread wide, and he bends his arm at the elbow to rest his hand against his lip, thinking as he watches you. Finally, he prompts you again, “He couldn’t, right?”
You look down quickly, away from his intense gaze, “Not really,”
“Why not?” He asks, his voice soft and low.
“I don’t really know that it was his fault,” you admit, looking back up to him, “it’s been a while and I couldn’t really get out of my own head about the whole thing.”
The heated flirting drops and suddenly he’s back to being your best friend, “are you telling me you haven’t come in months?”
“Jesus,” you cover your face with your hands for a second, dragging your hands through your hair, “when you just say it like that.”
“I’m really not sure how I’m supposed to say that,” he shrugs, “but seriously, like what… this whole time?”
“I mean,” you nod, “pretty much.”
“You haven’t come in four months?” He clarifies.
You wince, and find yourself admitting, “more like… six?”
“Six months.” He repeats.
“You really don’t have to make me feel worse,” you pull your legs up to your chest, “it’s not for lack of trying.”
“I don’t mean it like that,” he shakes his head, “I’m not trying to make you feel bad I guess I just… I mean is everything okay?”
You laugh, sharp, and shake your head, “This is kind of mortifying, you know that right?”
“It doesn’t have to be,” he assures you, “It’s just me, but if you don’t want to talk about it, we definitely don’t have to.”
“No, it’s just,” you sigh, “I really don’t know if it’s just me, or my meds, or what, it’s just been like not working right.”
“Oh,” he nods, and after a beat he looks up, “can I help?”
“Yunho,” You level him with your eyes, “I appreciate your confidence here, but if I can’t get myself off, I don’t know how you’re going to, and I’m really not trying to have the most embarrassing sexual experience of my life with my best friend, who I live with, during a global pandemic.”
“I highly doubt it would be the most embarrassing,” he grins at you.
“Yunho,” you shake your head, “seriously.”
“I’m sorry,” he says, softening a bit, “I just haven’t been with anyone since this whole thing started either, and with literally no end in sight I was just thinking maybe we could,”
“Help each other?” You finish for him.
“Yeah, basically,”
“Listen,” you start to say, desperately ignoring the pooling heat in your stomach, “it’s not that I’m not interested, I just don’t want to disappoint either of us when we’re trapped together and make things awkward.”
“So, you are interested?” He grins.
“That was not the important part of that sentence,” you roll your eyes.
“y/n,” he leans forwards, elbows on his knees, “I’ll drop it if you really want me to, but what if it’s good? We could try, just once and see.”
“Yunho,” you manage, the indecision clear in your voice.
“We’ll never talk about it again if it’s not good or not what you want,” he offers, “or you can tell me now to shut the fuck up and I will. I just haven’t been with anyone in months, and frankly you’re driving me fucking insane walking around the apartment in shorts that short.”
“Oh my God,” you shake your head, laughing at his frankness.
“Come on,” he urges gently, “I bet I can make you come.”
A hot knife of need cuts through you, and you look down again, away from his gaze and focus for just a minute. This was likely the worst idea, and you can see forward into the future, his disappointment that he couldn’t get you there, and your continued frustration only now public and uncomfortable knowledge. His words ring in your brain. What if it’s good?
It had been a while, but you can’t help the words that leave you, a challenge on your lips, “I bet you can’t.”
“What?” it’s his turn to sound a little unsettled, and you look back up to lock eyes.
“I bet you can’t make me come,” you say again.
His eyes darken, and he drop his head a little, looking at you from hooded eyes, “Are you saying yes?”
“I’m saying you can try,” he can’t help but smile at your words, “you can try, but it’s just this once. And you can’t complain afterwards or tease me about this.”
The hot flirtation across his face fades instantly, “I would never do that to you,”
“I,” you nod, “I know, it’s just embarrassing.”
He reaches across the couch with an outstretched hand, “Come here,”
You move without thinking, taking his hand, and letting him pull you over to stand between his knees. His fingers hook into the belt loops of your shorts, and he looks up at you, “I would never do that to you,” he repeats, “you’re my friend first, okay?”
“Yeah,” you nod.
“Just relax,” he says, and he squeezes your hips in his large hands. Your breath catches and he smiles at the reaction, squeezing you again to see if he can elicit the same response, “Do you have any hard no’s?”
“Oh,” you blink, thinking for a minute and carding through your past sexual experiences, “Not really? I don’t love name calling, but I mean, it’s not a hard no I guess?”
He smirks, “I wasn’t going to call you a whore on the first date,”
“Yunho!” you smack his shoulder, and he smiles wide, laughing through the awkward tension and easing some of your nerves.
“Alright,” he settles, “no name calling. Can I lead?”
Your brow quirks up at his question, “As opposed to?”
“You leading,” he smiles, “but I think that answers my question.”
You blush, “Oh! Yeah, yeah, you can lead.”
“Are we doing this now?” He checks.
“If we’re not going to do it now, I’m going to think about it until we do.”
“Fair enough,” his thumbs brush against the skin at the top of your shorts, soft and even.
“Okay,” you drop your hands and rest them on his forearms, “um… where do you want to start?”
He smiles up at you, “I want you to start by relaxing.”
“Sorry,”
“y/n?” He says.
“Hmm?” You look down to meet his eyes, sucking in a tight breath of air when he hooks his fingers into the waistband of your shorts.
“Shut up, okay?”
“Got it,” you don’t know what you should do with your hands, with anything, so you settle for biting your lip and watching him.
He looks down dragging his fingers across your skin until he hooks them further and uses his thumb to pop the button of your jean shorts open. You’re suddenly very grateful that you decided to shave your legs yesterday and you were wearing not completely unbecoming underwear, but your mind blanks out again when he drags down the zipper and pulls the shorts off over your hips. He taps your calf softly to prompt you to step up and out of them, and he kicks them back out of your way once they’re off you.
The t-shirt you’re wearing is oversized, and it drops low over you, brushing the tops of your thighs. His gaze is hungry, and he gathers the fabric in his hands to push it up your body just enough, revealing the soft plane of your stomach.
“Fuck, you’re pretty,” he sighs, looking you over.
“You haven’t seen a girl in months,” you retort.
He doesn’t look up, but you can see that he rolls his eyes and smiles, “Learn to take a compliment,” he says, “you’re hot.”
You can’t even begin to formulate a response, he doesn’t give you a chance before he leans forward and presses his lips to your hip, softly working kisses across the top of your panties, hooking a thumb under one side and pulling them up a bit so he can move down the crease of your thigh before moving up and humming softly, a kiss against your stomach, your other hip, your other thigh. You’re trembling already, the sensation of another person’s skin on yours enough to make you dizzy, but his slow nuzzling kisses have you feeling weak and craving.
“Come here,” he murmurs again, and leans back against the cushions. He directs you with his hands on your hips, stepping you back and sliding a knee between your open legs before pulling you forwards and prompting you to settle on him, straddling his thigh.
When the tense muscle of his thigh connects with your clit, despite the layers of fabric between you, you let out a soft pant. He catches your arms in his large hands, sweeping down your skin and taking your hands. He pulls you forwards slightly, and settles your hands on his chest, before returning his hands to your hips.
He tugs on your them gently, which rolls you forwards just a little on his thigh before sliding you back to your original position, the friction against your clit warm and firm. He tenses his muscles beneath you, watching your face carefully when you drop your mouth open a little and suck in a breath. It’s obvious to you now that he’s going to be good at this, and a nervous thrill runs up your spine.
He rocks your hips again and you catch on quickly, planting your hands more firmly on his chest and rolling your hips yourself. You’re slow to start, maintaining a steady fluid pressure against your clit, and he keeps his hands on your hips as you move. His brows are knit together, his mouth open as he watches you, and you can’t help but pant a little laugh, “I thought you were going to make me come,”
He smirks, “you haven’t come in six months and you’re in a rush?”
“Fuck off,” you manage, and he tenses his leg again in response which has you gripping his shirt in your hands, warm pleasure coiling through you.
He keeps one hand on your hip, but with the other he gathers the material of your shirt in his palm and pulls up, stopping just under your breasts. He watches you, his teeth catching his lower lip as he watches you grind yourself against him. His gaze is intense, and when he leans forwards just enough to move the hand on your hip up back and then back down to cup your ass, you sigh.
“Yunho,” you mumble, swallowing the tense knot in your throat and he relaxes his hand, looking up at you immediately.
“You good?” He murmurs.
You nod, “Yeah,”
He drops your shirt and sweeps your hair back from your face, tucking it behind your ear and keeping his hand cupping the side of your face, “Sure?”
Your hips still, and you come back to center to meet his eyes, “I’m okay,” you assure him, “are you?”
“Yeah, yeah,” he runs a thumb along your cheekbone, “I’m just checking,”
“Can we move to the bedroom?” you ask, and he drops his hands to your hips to ease you up off his thigh. He lets out a pleased hum when he sees the dark wet patch of his sweatpants where you had worked yourself against him, and without thinking further he reaches out and catches his fingers against you, feeling your damp underwear.
You stumble a step back, the sensation catching a moan in your throat, and he snaps a hand up to grab your forearm and steady you. “Fuck,” he laughs, “sorry,”
“Let’s go,” you tug his arm.
“Your room or mine?” He asks.
“Yours,” you answer immediately, “your bed is bigger.”
He takes your hand and leads you down the hall to the room at the back, and as he crosses the threshold, he remembers an image of you passed out on top of his bed covers the first month you lived here, a few too many drinks too early in the evening. He liked the look of you in his bed, he remembers. He turns and takes you in his capable hands, maneuvering your back to the face the bed and tipping you down onto the mattress.
“Can I take these off you?” He pulls the side of your panties.
“Yeah,”
He pulls both sides down over your hips, and you lift them to make it a little easier for him. He groans softly when he sees how slowly they pull away from your core, slightly stuck to your wetness. He tosses them away, pushing your shirt up again, and dropping to his knees on the floor between your open legs. Immediately you’re anxious, something about this had always been so intimate, and he hasn’t even kissed you yet.
You look up to the ceiling, your hands bunching in the sheets beneath you. Yunho’s hands coast up your thighs, dip up over your hips, smooth across your stomach, before he stops completely. One of his large hands covers yours, slipping his fingers into your fist to relax your hand, “Hey,” he says softly, “you want to tell me why you’re so nervous?”
You look down at him, he’s still perched between your open legs, one hand on yours and the other warmly over your thigh. His eyes are warm, open. “I don’t know,” you say honestly.
“Is it me? Or what we’re doing?” He asks.
“I think both,” you confess, “you’re my best friend, this is just… it’s a lot.”
“Okay,” he slides away from you, his hand leaving yours.
“Wait, I didn’t mean we shouldn’t,” you exclaim, sitting up and letting your shirt drop back over you.
“We’re not done, y/n,” he shakes his head, “just trust me.”
You nod and watch as he pulls back the coverlet and top sheet on his bed, nodding so that you can climb under the covers. He crosses the room and lowers the temperature on the air conditioning unit a few more degrees, making it whine as it kicks into gear and starts pushing cooler air into the room. Without preamble, he pulls off his blank tank top and tosses it to the side and shucks off his sweats and boxers.
“Oh, fuck,” you breathe, and he smiles at you.
“Yeah?”
“I don’t know what I expected,” you say.
“What?” He teases, “I work out, you see me work out all the time.”
He’s right, you do. You’re not surprised by the lean tone of his body, broad shouldered and taut arms and abs, you’re stricken by the size of him and how you’ve never once considered that he might be bigger than your previous partners.
“You know that’s not what I mean,” you clear your throat softly, “you’re just, uh,”
“Perfect?” He jests, climbing into bed and pulling the covers back over him, “Well-endowed? A god among men?”
“I was going to say big,” you laugh, and he crowds you a little, his fingers tickling your sides until you giggle, slapping his hands away, “god, you’re a menace.”
“I aim to please,” he teases again, tugging the hem of your shirt up, silently asking you to take it off.
You pull it over your head, tossing it over the edge of the bed and twisting to try and unhook your bra. Yunho slips a hand behind you, catching the clasp in between his thumb and first two fingers and slides it just right so that the hook and eye claps fall open.
“You’re too good at that,” you comment, sliding the straps off your shoulders and pulling it away to toss it aside.
“It’s really not difficult,” he chuckles, pulling you into his arms and further under the covers.
You have the urge to cover yourself, very aware that you’re naked in front of him for the first time but tucked under the blanket and pressed against his chest leaves you fairly concealed still and you try your best to stay calm and let him lead.
“Now,” he says, his voice low, “can you relax for me?”
His words make you clench your muscles, and he feels you twitch beneath him. He studies your face for a moment and tries again, “Can you be good for me?”
“Oh,” you breathe, gripping his back.
He seems to have you figured out now, just enough, and he lowers himself half over you. He cups the back of your head, pulling you closer, and he finally presses his mouth to yours. His lips are soft, and he releases a contented sigh of warm air against your cheek. He holds you close, kissing you sweetly at first and then nuzzles you gently with his nose before dipping his tongue into your mouth and flicking it against yours.
You moan into his mouth and his hands tighten on you as he intensifies the kiss, a little desperate, hot, and needy. It’s all the intimacy you need for things to start to slot into place in your brain. Yunho’s kissing you, and he’s frankly very good at it. You draw him closer, your arms around him and pulling him down against you, your bare breasts pressed tightly against his chest. He groans into your mouth at the contact, and suddenly his hands feel everywhere. Yunho kisses you again, softly biting your bottom lip, moving down your throat to lick and suck at your pulse points, nipping at your collarbone, tongue dragging a line down your chest as he turns his attention to your breasts.
“Fuck,” you choke, dropping your head back against his pillows when he takes a nipple in his mouth.
When you wind a hand into the back of his hair and pull him in closer, he sucks harder, sparking a line of pleasure straight to your core. He lifts up, his mouth leaving you, so he can settle on his side next to you. He pulls you close into his chest, one arm around your back as he supports you against his shoulder.
“Yunho,” you whine as his hand presses down across the length of your body, and he shudders at his name on your lips like that, finally no pretense or anxiety, just wanting.
“Spread your legs,” he murmurs, pressing his fingers between your tightly locked thighs.
You comply immediately, and he pushes one of your legs open wider, your leg bending the knee and up by your side to give him the most access. He wastes no time, his fingers sweeping up your wet slit until he finds your firm swollen clit at the apex of your thighs. He watches you as he rolls his fingers, testing which way has you the most breathy and pliant, what pressure makes your hand on his back tighten and dig your nails in.
“Like this?” He asks when he finds a good rhythm.
It is good, a hot rush of warmth radiating up from your core. It feels good to be taken care of finally after so long, safe with him pressed up against you, his lips against your forehead, soft kisses as he works your body. When you don’t respond he kisses you and murmurs again, “tell me what you like,”
“Here,” you catch his hand in yours, and he stills his fingers. You slide his hand down further, pressing the tips of his fingers inside you and he nods against you. You let your hand fall away as he starts to press two fingers inside you, pumping them softly to ease them in until his knuckles rest against you. He shifts you in his arms to get a better angle, curling around you slightly as he thrusts them up, curling them and catching against your g-spot.
“That,” you stutter, “like that,”
He grins, “There you are,”
“Fuck,” you stammer, dropping your head against his chest, one hand tight against his bare thigh.
He pumps his fingers faster, spurned on every time you gasp and moan. You shudder against him, hiding your face in his neck, tense pleasure curling up inside you. You rock your hips against his hand and he lets you help set the pace, but you can’t reach it. He feels incredible, better than anything you’ve done in months, but just like before it feels like you’re standing on the edge looking over and can’t reach.
He presses up against your g-spot, rocking his hand and spiking a line of pleasure up your chest but when it passes, it passes. “Yunho,” you pant, and he shushes you, mistaking your words for encouragement.
“Yunho,” you reach down and catch his wrist, pushing his hand away and he pulls his fingers from you.
“What?” He murmurs, pushing back your hair and shifting so he can see your face, “you ok?”
“Yeah,”
“I thought I had you close, why’d you stop me?” he smooths a hand up your side.
“You did,” you assure him, “I just couldn’t get there,”
He dips his head to kiss you, his thumb massaging soothing circles into your hip, “Let’s try something else,”
“It’s okay,” you brush him off, “let me get you off and then we can,”
“y/n,” he interrupts you, “I didn’t think it would be that easy. Come on, lay back,” he eases you into the sheets and you scramble up, leaning on your elbows as he shifts out of bed, “where’s your vibrator?”
“What?” Your cheeks flame.
“We’ve lived together for months,” he explains, his gaze direct, “I’ve heard it, so come on, where is it?”
You throw an arm over your face and groan, “Bottom drawer of my nightstand.”
“See? Not so hard,” He shrugs it off and and you hear him pad out into the hall and through the door to your bedroom.
While he’s gone you recover your breath, he was right, he did have you close. You were so frustrated and desperate for it at this point you didn’t know what to do, but when you see him return with a serious smirk you blush harder.
“You’ve got a little collection going,” he says, “but this one’s industrial.” He holds up the wand and gives you a cheeky grin.
“Oh my God, I really hate you,”
“You really, really don’t.” He shifts back onto the bed and pulls back the covers a bit, “Now, I have some clever ideas on what to do with this, but I’m in no rush.” He tosses it against the mattress and shifts back over top of you.
“You’re really having fun with this, aren’t you?” You nudge his chest.
“Yeah,” he replies, “I definitely am,”
Wrapped up like this, you feel closer to him that you’ve felt with anyone in a long, long time. You smile, kissing his shoulder softly and looking back up to meet his eyes, “Thank you, by the way.”
“For what?” He asks.
“Making this fun,” you tell him honestly.
“Sex is supposed to be fun,” he replies, “and I don’t know what has you so tense, but you’re okay with me. I’ve got you,”
It’s things like that that make you worry this might have been a bad idea after all, dangerous words for someone so close to the edge of falling in love with their best friend.
You nod, not trusting your words for a minute, so you pull him back down for a kiss. You’re lazy and slow together, the kisses alone helping reignite some of the heat in your core, his hands, and the way they caress you making you wetter again by the second. You slide a hand between your bodies, reaching for him now and find his hard length pressed along your inner thigh. When you shift, closing your hand around his cock, he hisses against your mouth and pulls his head back.
“Holy shit,” he groans, watching as you stroke your hand up from the base of his cock upwards, your thumb sliding over the head and smearing the pearl of pre-cum across it. Your hand looks small wrapped around him, and your muscles clench up at the thought that at some point tonight, you’d be fitting him inside you.
“Here,” your hand leaves him for a moment so you can push at his shoulder, urging him to lay back, “let me take care of you,”
He complies but shakes his head, “I’m not done with you,”
“I never said you were,” you brush his hands away from you and slide down his body now that he’s flat on his back. His cock stands up perfectly straight and straining, and you’re not quite sure just how many inches he is but you know you’re going to struggle to take him in your mouth.
You lick a stripe up his length, from base to tip, and watch as his head rolls instantly back against the pillows. He groans when you do it again, and when you hold him again in your hand and slide your lips over the tip of him to take just the first bit of him in your mouth, his hips jerk slightly.
“Sorry,” he says, “fuck, sorry, it’s been way too fucking long,”
You hum, a little laugh, and the vibrations make him groan again and he fists the sheets beneath him by his hips. You bob your head experimentally, seeing how much of him you can take, your mouth stretched around him and the head of his cock bumping the back of your throat. It’s uncomfortable, but not unpleasant, so you flatten your tongue along the underside of him and drag your head up and down again. You ghost your nails softly along his thighs as you suck him, hollowing out your cheeks and pulling back up to flick your tongue firmly against his tip again.
He moans softly when you dip your head low again, taking as much of him as possible, but still not reaching the base of him. Your gag reflex fires a little and you cough around him, easing back up to give your throat a chance to adjust and blink back the sudden sensation of tears. You’re doing your best to even out your breathing through your nose and slide back down his length again when his hand snakes into your hair and he pulls you up and off him.
“What, what’s wrong?” You look up to him, blinking fast, but the look he’s giving you now isn’t like before.
“I’m not going to last like that,” he says, pulling you forwards and rolling you underneath him, “and I need to be inside you right fucking now.”
He pushes your legs open with his hand and runs his fingers up your wet slit, rocking your clit a few times and eliciting a shaky moan from your lips. You nod fast, “Please,”
He lines himself up with your entrance, catching the head of his cock on your clit, “Wait, wait, are you safe, should I,”
“I’m good,” you insist, “I have an IUD, just please come here,”
He’s slow when he pushes into you, incredibly cognizant of his size and the experience he’s had with past partners, but at the feeling of your walls pressing tight around him he pauses, dropping his head to your shoulder, “Oh fuck,”
“Yunho,” you wriggle your hips, the feeling of him stretching you better than anything, “don’t stop,”
He bites down on your shoulder softly, groaning as he pushes further, and when he’s halfway in he pulls away to check you, “You okay?”
“Please,” you pull at his hips, desperate for him to be closer, “I need you,”
“Fuck, baby,” he breathes as he watches the rest of his cock disappear inside you.
You’re impossibly full, warm in places you didn’t know could be warm, feeling tiny sparks of pleasure with every minute shift of his hips. This is exactly what you needed, the full feeling of his cock buried deep inside you and his whispered words in your ear.
“You gotta move,” you beg him.
He pulls out almost completely and dives his hips back in, sinking himself as far as he can go and knocking your hips together. “You’re fucking incredible,” he pants as he pistons his hips again, “you take me so fucking well,”
You choke at his words, arching up against him as he starts to fuck you faster. He kisses you hard, one hand tightly on your cheek and the other locked on your hip as he thrusts, “like you were fucking made for me,” he says against your mouth.
“Oh, God,” you grip his arms, holding him to you as you rock your hips back up in time to meet each move of his hips.
“You need me to tell you?” He manages, his lips hot against your ear as he covers you, his sweat slick body hot and heavy over you, filling you, “Do you want me to tell you how good you’re being for me?”
Your broken moan tells him everything he needs to know, and he pushes the damp hair back from your face to watch you, your eyes screwing shut at his words, shocks of pleasure running up from your core to your chest.
“So good for me,” he murmurs again, dipping his fingers between your lips.
You close your lips around them immediately, running your tongue across them, tasting yourself on his skin. When you open your eyes he’s staring down at you in awe, his brows tight together, mouth open and tensed, his eyes rolling when you take the length of his fingers in your mouth and suck on them gently.
“Fuck,” he pants, and his pace falters, he pulls his fingers free and repositions, and when he drives into you with a well angled thrust that drags perfectly along your walls you rock back with a cry. Yunho catches your bottom teeth with his thumb and drags your head back down to keep your eyes on him. He’s close, you can feel it, but so are you. He draws your gaze, “say my name, baby,”
“Oh,” you pant, “fuck, oh, fuck,”
“My name,” he repeats, “say it,”
You try, but it gets caught in your throat when he slams back into you and you whimper, your nails digging into his back.
“Tell me,” he pumps his hips again, “you can do it,”
With a gasp he pulls down on your hair, tugging your scalp with just the right pressure, “Yunho, Yunho, Yunho,” you chant, the knot of pleasure so tight in your belly you’re sure you’re going to burst, “please, please, baby, please,”
When he pulls away from you, out of you, the cry that leaves your lips is desperate. He’s quick though, folding a pillow in half and lifting you like you weigh nothing, propping your hips up high at an angle you know is going to ruin you. He reaches across you and from the tangled sheets he pulls your vibrator out and clicks it on.
“Yunho, I don’t,” you start and watch as he gets the setting right.
“Shh,” he interrupts, stifling your soft whines, “you wanted to come,”
You cry out when he sinks back into you, this new angle putting pressure in new places and stirring a sensation deep in your core. He rocks his hips, holding your thigh with one hand to grip you steady and gets his positioning right so that he can stay comfortable on his knees and thrust up into you just right. When he eases the vibrator down onto your clit you’re brain whites out, the sensations blending together in a haze.
“Oh fuck,” he manages, “tell me you’re close,”
You whine an incoherent response, looking up at him through hazy eyes.
“Yeah, you are,” he smiles, never slowing his hips, “just a little more, I want you to come for me, can you be good for me?”
It slams into without warning, wrenching your body up and arched against him, your thighs a shaking mess. Distantly you hear his low voice, “Let go, that’s my pretty girl.” You can feel the flush of blush run up your chest to your cheeks, and when you’ve ridden it through and he doesn’t lift the vibrator you jerk your hands down, writhing and pushing it away.
“One more,” he says, but you shake your head, “No?”
“Yunho,” you shake your head desperately, pushing the vibrator away, the sensation far too much for the level of overstimulation, “please, I can’t,”
“Okay, okay,” he clicks it off and tosses it aside, his hips still rolling into you just more slowly now, “I’ve got you,”
“Come here,” you drag him towards you desperately, and he comes back down to lay across you, “please I want you,”
“Fuck,” he chants again, “I won’t last,”
“Come,” you urge him, holding him close and rolling your hips with his, “please, I need it,”
He speeds up, desperate and panting, his forehead pressed against yours. When he rocks downwards, collapsing his weight a little further onto you, the angle of your bodies still propped up by the folded pillow has his cock drag perfectly over your g-spot again and you shake against him, gripping him tight and whining as another orgasm washes over you.
When you clench down around him for the second time he jerks into you twice more, coming hard and hot inside you, your name on his lips on a loop. Your ears are ringing, your body boneless and you can barely catch your breath. When he moves to slide out of you, you whimper, and he looks down at you.
“Oh my God,” he pants, rolling onto his side and gathering you up in his arms to lock you against his chest, “come here,”
You shift as close to him as you can, feeling like you need every inch of his skin on yours. You’re already lolling in and out of a dazed sleep when his voice brings you back. “Hey,” his fingers stroke your cheek, “you’re okay?”
“Okay?” You crack open your eyes, “I’m fucking fantastic,”
“I didn’t hurt you?” He brushes a hand down your hip.
You shake your head and cup his cheek, “Perfect, you were perfect,”
He grins, “I’ll remember you said that.”
“Don’t you dare be smug right now,” you slap his chest softly, letting your eyes slip closed again.
“I won’t,” he says, his voice shifting softer, and he nuzzles the side of your face, pressing kisses to your cheek, “That was… we should do that again,”
“I don’t think we should ever stop doing that,” you agree, glancing up at him.
He squeezes you tight, “Give me like twenty minutes,”
“Yun, I’m kidding,” you hide your face in his chest, shaking your head as he laughs above you.
“I’m not,”
You smooth a hand down his arm, snuggling against him and closing your eyes again, “Let’s sleep first. Sleep and then I’ll let you do whatever you want to me forever,”
He chuckles, the vibration of his low laugh against your cheek where you’re pressed against his chest, “Deal,” he says, “I’ll remember that too.”
~end~
a/n: i'm working on a companion piece to this since i'm just so soft for boyfy college yunho, so keep an eye out for that. for those of you looking for into the aurora chapters, i'm working on it too! new content will be posted soon, i'm just in a bit of a yunho mood.
Preview: “What’re you watching?” Your eyes widen tilting your head to the side. Hovering behind Jeno’s gaming chair to get a closer look at his computer screen. A video of a bunny hybrid bent over getting rammed from both end’s plays. Squeaks and moans lowly thump from his speakers.
Jeno jolts up pulling his hoodie over his hardened length. His neck twists seeing you focused on the obscene video Jaemin had linked him. Jeno’s throat dries, stuttering- “h-how…how long have you been s-standing there?!?”
Your arms wrap around Jeno’s headrest inching your face closer to his. He falters in surprise tilting his chin up. “Long enough.”
Pairing: 00’line x female bunny hybrid reader
Word Count: 5k+
Genre: Hybrid AU, pwp, idolverse, M/F smut, series
a/n: thanks for 1k on the first two parts. lol fuck.
“What? No baby, absolutely not..” Renjun pries your hand away. Head shaking in dismay, never the less gritting his teeth ready to blow his load.
“Why not?! I want to! Renjun pleaseee” you get up on your knee’s whining. Straddling his thighs maneuvering closer. His eyes widen in the very dimly lit room. Whites of his eyes lighting up the dark. Little did he know what Haechan had taught you.
“I don’t want you to feel pressured to do an-..” Renjun gasps letting out a shocked cry. Your hand reaches into his boxers circling his hard-on. He feels hot and thick pulsing in your palm. Neck loosening exuding soft huffed moans. Your thumb smearing the liquid at the tip of his length with growing interests.
“You’re wet!” you voice excitedly with lit up eyes. Thumb eagerly pressing into the slit dipping in at the tip. Renjun hisses sitting up placing a gentle hold on your wrists.
“Bun, don’t do that. I’m sensitive there.” He sighs, dropping his nose into your shoulder. Breathing out harshly against your neck.
“Renjunnn” you start to whine, flicking your wrist about. Lifting up a leg to straddle his thigh, easing your clothed core down. “I’m wet too..”
“Fuck..” Renjun sputters, swallowing down thinking wordlessly. Would it hurt to continue? You’d been sleeping in his bed practically every night. Rutting against him like some horny bunny in heat…well..His lips part in question before too soon to stop himself- “C-can I see?”
With an over eager hiccup bursting from your chest you sit up. Squeezing over Renjun’s size one more time before laying back down on his bed with your legs spread open. He takes in the visual, licking over his drying lips. Fluttering eyes admire, taking all of you in. The way your skin glows softly as if you were made of silk builds heat up to his chest. Hands at his sides open and close, fingers locking together resisting urges.
With a reassuring nod, for himself, he moves in front of you on his knee’s. Reaching for the sides of your underwear with shaking hands, he tugs them down slowly. Sharing pained moans in unison when the fabric of your panties sticks to your cunt pulling off with a added lewd sound.
Renjun sucks in a deep breath staring into your glistening spread open core. Dick shouting between his legs for freedom. Quietly whispering to himself- “I can’t..I can’t do this..”
Your foot reaches out kicking your underwear away. Pushing your legs open across his bed fully, too naively almost. Renjun’s eyes clench up gritting his teeth together.
Your eyes blur the longer you stare at him. Heat between your legs sending chills up your spine. A wet rush of slick spilling out past your hungry waiting hole, inhaling deeply in, arching- “Touch me.”
The dam breaks, rapid impounding waves of lust growl throughout his chest. Vibrations run up Renjun’s back, dick throbbing angrily between his pressed together thighs. With his tongue sweeping across his cracked lips for moisture, he bends over you. Shared breath’s pass between your lips. His smooth bare chest beats timely against yours. A moment of clarity hits him staring into your eyes. Lips press together softly releasing a moan between each swipe passed.
The heated moment chills momentarily, smiles creeping on your lips as time slows down. Renjun slips his tongue past your lips letting out a broken moan. The inside of your mouth better than anything he could dream to taste. Tongues collide deepening the kiss seeking every little taste of each other. Your hands grasp to the dip in his waist encouraging him to press against you.
“Bun..” Renjun’s sleepy smile hits his eyes. Tented boxers shove between your opening folds. Fabric soaking up your release, timidly his hips roll forward. Exhausted moans sing from both your lips, noses pressing together in elation. “You’re…ah, you’re so so wet..”
“Renjunnie…you get me like this…I like you so much..” you sob. Lower half lifting from his bed begging for more. Renjun eyes tighten shut. Heartbeat racing throughout his dick, full balls aching painfully.
“Like you more..” he laments. Hands finding your parted thighs. Lifting your legs, ankles lock together against his lower back. Renjun confidently thrusts between your dripping core. Silently cursing the damn fabric of his boxers blocking his way to fuck you for real. “Shit-ah bun, you feel so good. So good for me yea?”
Labored breath’s grow heavier. His thrusts stay steady, not too slow not too fast. Wet fabric shielding his hard size creating sinful friction with each pass over your clit. Your nails sink into the sides of soft flesh spread over Renjun’s ribs. Rutting upward desperate for more, more of whatever he was giving you. You croak, whining beneath panted inhales- “Ugh..da…”
Your cheeks light up in flames, chin tucking into your chest shyly. Renjun’s nose nudges into yours curiously staring at your pursed lips. His hold shifts from your legs. Hands cupping around your heated face, thumbs stroking the unshed tears gathering near the rims of your eyes. Heart exploding in his chest adoring the lost lust filled gaze staring up at him. Hips pausing, focusing on your smooth skin tickling the tips of his fingers. Appealing opened swollen lips stealing all of his attention.
“Pretty. So pretty bun..” Renjun’s hushed words rush to your center. Clenching around nothing, groaning when thumbs dip into the sides of your mouth. Your tongue licks side to side lapping his fingers. Drool lurches out of your forced open lips, dribbling down his hands. “Shit baby..”
You whine again, cough trapped in your lungs. Scrabbling at his stomach lifting light marks on his even skin-tone. Thumbs hook behind your lower lip, tugging you down against your chin. Shining liquid glittering under the soft glow penetrating the room. Realizing this may be his only chance to enjoy you in such a way without the rest of the guys scoffing adding their imitation sounds of a whip. Visuals of your body calling for him, only him roll through his hips. Pressure building up in his balls the longer he waits, mentally voicing ‘fuck it’.
“Say it baby. Please bunny, tell me.” Renjun emphasizes with a pointed thrust between your legs. Thumbs loosening their hold, hands landing on your damp sweating neck.
“Da..daddy…..” you quietly whimper. Head flattening on his pillow. Dick jamming between your folds spinning your mind. The cloth covering Renjun’s length impossibly wet by now. Thrust picking up speed rocking you down into his bed. Pretty mouth hung open above you catching bits of air between grunts of exertion. Your body stiffens up, tail twitching at the end of your spine. Toes curling up arching with a scream of staccato moans. Slick drenches his cock again, shakily stopping movements. Allowing your climax to wash over you. Renjun’s face twists, abdomen sucking in. Body shifting before his mind can fully register his next steps. Hands grip your hips, hiking you up in a quick spin to change your positions.
He gets you seated on his lap, your hands plant on his chest to keep steady. You hiss easing your sensitive core down, nestled against his stomach. Renjun reaches behind you whipping his raging length out. Letting it go landing with a slap on your ass. Your eyes widen gasping, jumping up settling down on his hard cock.
“Feel good baby?” Renjun asks, fingers squeezing the meat on your hips. Throat locking up when your folds part over him. Slick paints his size, heated pressure tingles down to his sack.
“Good, so g-good daddy..” you stutter nodding eagerly. Letting him take control of your movements. Pussy parted on him, sliding up and down. Wet sounds of skin on skin escaping between your grinding bottom halves.
“Like this baby..” Renjun cups your hips firmly, knee’s bending to strengthen his thrusts. Ass bouncing down on him as if you were riding his dick. He cries inhaling shallow breath’s in disbelief. Needing to feel more, lungs constricting thinking he may die if he doesn’t fuck you soon.
“Ch-choke me” Renjun asks nicely, too nicely for what he’s asking. Your hands bury into his chest stopping abruptly.
“What??” You whisper considering the time of night. Renjun takes a hold of your wrists, dragging your hands up to his neck.
“Choke me baby, please. Choke daddy.” His hips jerk under you, not asking anymore. Demanding. Hands on-top of yours encouraging you to squeeze around his neck. Your head shakes distracted by his pouty lips falling open drawing out a long moan.
“I…I c-can’t…” your breath quickens. Slick spilling out of you in absurd mounts. Arousal heightening setting a coil spinning throughout your gut. Fingertips itching to plunge into the tender skin.
“Choke me!” Renjen wails, humping up frantically. Cunt slipping over his length too easily, losing balance thrusting faster. Your mouth hangs open whining, palms flattening on his neck. Gently tightening your hold around him. A cough flies from his mouth, head dropping to the side moaning desperately.
“Am…a-am I doing good d-daddy?” You question between moans. Warm cunt wrapping around his size. Hips buck into each other wildly. Helplessly gripping his thin neck the harder you bounce.
“Oh fuck! Fuck bun!!” Renjun shouts. Heaving out struggling breath’s of air. Cock head dipping in breeching your entrance just barely. Lower back squeezing to hold himself back from fucking his way in. His arms flex finding willpower to control himself, turning your bodies over. Cock rutting against your pussy, wetness splashing around. Glistening folds engulf his size. “Cum..cum baby, cum for daddy.”
Renjun’s hips angle, tip of his length setting your bundle of nerves off. Eyes roll to the back of your head slapping your hands on the pillow behind you. Throat drying, huffing moans and groans. Pussy sopping under the meat of Renjun’s size. He cries losing himself further, humping and stammering off what a ‘good girl’ you are. So good for him.
“Shit!” Renjun’s hands slap on your thighs. Cock head pressing against your empty hole. Cum spilling out with his head hung repressing embarrassed sounds of anguish.
You sit up on your elbows, stomach twitching, brow lifted watching white cum spill freely. Blending with the slick smeared over your thighs. Fingers dipping down, lifting the hot liquid to your lips.
“B-bun no!” Renjun’s eyes shoot open. Reaching out, stopped mid-air watching in amazement as you lick cum off your fingers. His cum.
“Do you feel better now daddy?” You ask, licking your fingers clean. Renjun’s brows furrow together. Softening cock lifting on his thigh too excited from the question. You’d be the death of him.
“Really…really good bun.”
——————————————————————————
Haechan sighs, watching your fluffed tail wiggle around excitedly in the kitchen. Frustration between his legs spawning the more you lean into Renjun’s touches. Mouth pursing side to side growing further ticked off when he hand feeds you the popcorn you’re making together.
“That should be me..” Haechan points out. Nudging his chin forward for Jaemin to suffer with him.
“You don’t know the half of it. Stop whining, it’s your fault for not living here.” Jaemin sneers, mindlessly scrolling through his phone. Sat with Haechan on a love seat meant for two waiting for movie night to begin. “Jeno, what did you pick to watch?”
Jeno looks over his shoulder with a smile shutting his eyes hidden behind thick black lashes. Proudly holding up a blu-ray cover. “The Exorcist.”
“Again?! Dude....I am so tired of watching Linda Blair projectile puke.” Haechan sinks further into the cushion exasperating a groan.
“Bun hasn’t ever seen it!” Jeno proclaims, setting up the movies menu. Ominous haunting music flows from the speakers creating a mood in the dim lit living room. Jaemin scoffing something about how you wouldn’t like it anyway. Know’s Jeno’s hidden plan is probably to get you all scared left with no choice but to fall into his arms. Then again, Jaemin considered how he had used your toothbrush improperly. Maybe some of these scenes would give you ideas..
“You know what I watched again last night?” Haechan turns his body, brows raising in interests. “Dick was hard as a rock, had to bust out some classic hentai. Kite never fails you know, love a good plot.”
“Dude you’ve watched that shit so many times. It’s not even that good.” Jaemin shoots him a glare. Haechan inching closer, slapping his arm.
“It’s amazing! Got me thinking you know… what if we got bunny some assassin training. Imagine her? All Tomb-raider, like a sexy bodyguard fighting off the crazies that follow us around!” Haechan exclaims with a bounce.
“Why the fuck would we do that. Also, assassin training?! What world are you living in!” Jaemin quickly shoots down his absurd thought. “You need to stop watching that stuff. I have an entire file full of explicit hybrid content. I’ll send you some later.”
“Bunny hybrid porn?” Haechan’s interest sparks. Eyeing to the side where you approach with two large bowls in hand. Ears flopping against your hair with every perky stride.
“Tons.” Jaemin responds. Pulling in his bottom lip, dragging his tongue along the cracks. Focused stare on your ass when you bend over, setting down fresh bowls of popcorn. With a smile over your shoulder, you step forward to join Jeno and Renjun leaving you a space on the larger couch. Haechan sits up pulling you between his legs, arms circling around your waist.
“Bunnnnnnny, where are you going baby? I missssssss youuuuuu” he whines with a pout. Planting his chin on your hip blinking exaggeratedly up at you. Your eyes widen surprised, Renjun reprimanding him for guilting you. “Maybe bun wants to sit with us! Don’t you baby?”
He sends you a soft smile full of charm. Charming like a snake hypnotizing your mind, claiming control. His lips peck over the sliver of bare skin peaking beneath your short top. Jaemin perks up piggybacking Haechan’s idea, wrapping his hands around your naked thigh.
“Yea come on bunbun, the movies scary. We’ll protect you baby.” Your nod breaks a defeated sigh from the opposite couch. Letting the two boys squish you between their bodies. Legs press against yours trapping your thighs together. Haechan throwing a blanket over all three of your laps. His face nuzzles into your neck happily, breathing out dreamy sounds.
“My bunny, always smells so sweet. So delectable.” Haechan murmurs, lips pressed up on your skin. Jaemin’s hand slips beneath the blanket covering your lower halves. Fingers trace up and down your thigh, attention focused on the screen to remain inconspicuous.
Jeno easily gets absorbed into the film right from the start. Hand greedily shoving mouthfuls of popcorn into his mouth laughing between bites. Renjun mumbling about how he hates this movie at his side carrying the bowl in his lap. Haechan’s eyes swiftly flick to them, resting his head upon your shoulder. Finger lifting to his lips with a silent ‘shhh’ his other hand finding your free thigh.
Jaemin and Haechan are a different type of evil together. Judging from the movie, you’d think they were the ones possessed. Each of their hands glide up your thighs. Jaemin’s sneaking beneath your shorts, fingers pressing to your clothed core. Haechan ever bold, slipping under the top of your underwear. His fingers softly press your clit, Jaemin’s fingers shove your underwear in. Losing count at this point of how many panties they’ve ruined.
Jaemin’s head rests on your shoulder, lips taunting you spewing baby talk. “Naughty bunbun getting wet watching this?”
They’re relentless, Haechan reaching around tucking your face into his neck when your whimpers grow too loud. Saying something in response to Renjun’s questioning about how he told them this would be too scary for you.
Your orgasm ripping free when Jaemin pulls your ruined underwear to the side. Fingers roughly swiping your folds back and forth. Huffing hot breath’s on your neck. His hand pulls out, licking clean the taste of you’ve left behind. Lips press to your cheek, tracing words reminding you, he can’t wait to fuck you full.
——————————————————————————-
“Be good okay baby?” Renjun squeezes your cheeks together. Kissing your plump lips over and over again. Mumbling cute little sounds between each pass of lips.
“Why can’t I..” you question between kisses. Teeth wetting his mouth every time your lips meet. “..go with you?”
“Ah bun I wish I could bring you along. Not yet okay? Things will calm down after we’re done with schedules.” Renjun says with a sympathetic look. Hates feeling like he’s trapping you indoors. “If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask Jeno. I know he still makes you a little nervous but his intentions are good I promise.”
“..I’m standing right here..” Jeno huffs. Leaned against a wall near the hallway entrance. He’s taken to walking around shirtless lately whenever Renjun complains over the air conditioning blasting too hard. His biceps flex squeezing over his chest, sneaking a peak whenever you find him looking away. Jeno made you nervous, amongst other things.
“Exactly.” Renjun sets one last peck on your lips. Walking across to the front door, jabbing a finger into Jeno’s chest along the way. “So be good. Both of you. Put a damn shirt on too.”
“We gotta go!” Jaemin pokes his head in, waving goodbye. Renjun scurries out blowing you a kiss. Jeno presses into the corner of the wall staring at his feet.
“I’ll be in my room if you need anything bun.” Jeno’s head hangs low, turning with slumped shoulders. It was getting harder to pretend he didn’t excite you in a fearful way. The scent stuck to his worn clothes similar to that of puppy hybrid’s brought into the shop. He was strange, quiet, always avoiding eye contact. Running off apologizing whenever he’d just as much graze your skin in the narrow hallway.
Boredom strikes 10 minutes later having flipped through every channel 3 times over with no success. You sink lazily into the couch with eyes darting around looking for something to do. Ears twitching glancing down the hall wondering what Jeno was getting up to.
Maybe it was time to find out.
Jaemin: *link attached*
Jeno: If this is another picture of your dick next to a ruler I’m blocking you for good.
Haechan: Holy fucking shit, this bunny’s fatass is getting FUCKED up. Dude we should do this!
Jeno: Oh is this hybrid porn?
Jeno: …..why isn’t Renjun in this chat?
Haechan: Narc
Jaemin: Just watch it dude, I can’t listen to you jerk off at 2am again. I need my beauty sleep.
Jeno: Fuck you.
Jeno ends up sucked into the video Jaemin sent. Too sucked in to hear your light footsteps pad into his room. Whatever he was watching piquing your interests as well. Soft groans emit beneath you, eyes sucked into the visual before him.
“What’re watching?” Your eyes widen tilting your head to the side. Hovering behind Jeno’s gaming chair to get a closer look at his computer screen. A video of a bunny hybrid bent over getting rammed from both end’s plays. Squeaks and moans lowly thump from his speakers.
Jeno jolts up pulling his hoodie over his hardened length. His neck twists seeing you focused on the obscene video Jaemin had linked him. Jeno’s throat dries, stuttering- “h-how…how long have you been s-standing there?!?”
Your arms wrap around Jeno’s headrest inching your face closer to his. He falters in surprise tilting his chin up. “Long enough.”
“Bun…I….I c-can explain..” Jeno stutters. Gasping in a deep breath when you move around settling your ass on his thigh. Elbows perched on his desk with your face too close to the screen. Completely enamored by the sight. The bunny with fur just like yours and awfully similar features appearing lost in a haze of pleasure. Jeno’s hands lift hovering over your round hips, face tightening up in pain when you wiggle against him.
“Are they hurting her?” Your questions surprises Jeno. Opting to grip your hips in a snug hold to keep you in place. Thin basketball shorts half way up his thighs have your barely covered core snuggled directly on his skin. Cock throbbing as heat rushes up between his legs from where your bodies connect.
“N-no bun…not at all..she really likes it..” Jeno swallows. Eyes shutting trying to reel in his frustration. Three weeks too much of torment. Too many cum dried tissues filling up the trash can in the corner of his room. Too many mornings with his ear pressed to the bathroom door listening to your pretty cries. Jealousy and desire pushing him to an ultra sensitive state of mind. Often times pocketing your discarded underwear from the laundry basket to jerk off into later.
“What’s his face doing there?!” You perk up, lower half bouncing against him. Finger tapping at the male human’s face buried in the hybrid’s ass. Jeno’s eyes flutter, pursing his lips together tightly lapping at the roof of his mouth.
“He’s…he loves her so..that’s…when you really love someone…” Jeno’s hands shift. Fingertips sinking into the swell of your ass. Squeezing and pulling the meaty mounds with your cute twitching ball of fluff at the top. Humming to himself, working a massage into the dip of your back- “You eat their ass..”
“Really?!” You voice shocked. Too engulfed watching the hybrid’s center explode with liquid shooting out of her convulsing body. Screams of pleasure and over worked grunts combine, blending with Jeno’s eager groans behind you.
“Yea bun…I love you so much you know that right?” Jeno mumbles mostly to himself. Horny deprived rage consuming him whole, not putting much thought behind his words. Hips stuttering when you shift turning at your waist to look at him seriously.
“Does that mean you’re gonna eat my ass?” Your eyes sparkle in excitement. Jeno’s jaw drops, struck with the bullshit he’d just spatted. Mouth shutting and opening preparing an excuse before the lightbulb turns on. Smile building up reaching the bottoms of his eyes.
“I really…” he leans forward, arms circling your waist. Lips brush your jaw, quietly continuing- “..really really really wanna eat your ass.”
Your eyes shut half-way allowing Jeno’s nose to nuzzle into yours. Lips brushing together. Whispered words trace your mouth- “Love you so much bun. I’ll never do anything you don’t want me to do.”
You ease further back into lap, hard cock digging into your lower back. Lips pressing against Jeno’s firmly. His hands slide up your stomach, cupping under your breasts with a scorching squeeze.
His hips circle up, pushing on your chest down to add friction. Hidden dick crying for attention. Jeno shoves you down harder thrusting up at the same time. Painfully desperate for more, battling in his mind to not waste time. Renjun and Jaemin would be back soon.
“Bend over bun” Jeno licks your earlobe. Coming down to squeeze your waist from behind. He assists you into position when you throw him a confused look. Bending you over with your chest on his desk. Jeno falls to his knee’s, brows lifting into his forehead. Feels like his brains getting kicked around like a soccer ball. Considers having lost his mind from days pent up rubbing his dick raw. Having to lotion himself up the last few days after jerking off 5 times in a row when you modeled swimsuits for them was for sure enough to crack his head open. Haechan’s brilliant ideas never fail. “You’re so…so beautiful bunny..”
Jeno slowly rolls the cotton down unveiling your perked ass. Jaw falling open in time with each inch of skin revealed. Choking on a gust of air, his face dips forward. Nose inhaling deeply, face turning side to side between your cheeks like a man with no self-control. Reassured he has none with hands squeezing your cheeks apart. Lips pouting pressing against your rim.
“Jeno…feels weird..” you murmur, peaking over your shoulder. Flames rise from between your thighs to your chest.
“Love it bun…” Jeno muffles against your ass. Tongue prodding your shut hole groaning deep in his stomach. “Taste so fucking good.”
Jeno’s growls hum vibrations through your limbs. Tonguing your hole like it’s his last meal. Fingers seep into your buttcheeks roughly. Face shoving between you as far as he can. Thinks he’ll have to eat your ass everyday to not starve to death. Your hole loosens under his pointed tongue, pretty wanton moans bounce off his walls. Dizzied, slurping around you with a strong suck.
“Fuck..” Jeno pops off. Holding you stretched apart. Gritting a scream through his teeth mesmerized by your winking pussy. He can’t resist, circling a fingertip around your hungry entrance. Dipping in laving your rim, stimulating you from both ends.
Your neck snaps, screaming strained whiny moans. Toes bend against the floor, tremors shake up your thighs. Jeno teases your core, fingertip pressing in tempted to fill you up. Tongue breeching through your wrinkled hole at the same time. Your head drops on the desk, slamming a fist down. Jolting forward moaning out his name. Pussy convulsing around his fingertip. Jeno pulls back watching you cum, teeth tugging his bottom lip in to not cry.
“Fuck….ah, fuck fuck….fuck bun…” he sighs. Cheek resting on your ass dragging his finger to your rim. Tapping lightly, softly shaking from your intense trembling. “Did you like that bun?”
Jeno stands up, gently lifting you to rest on his chest. Hands soothing up your spine, large arms wrapping you in safety. Your head nods, sinking in further. Eyes lifting when his hard size pokes your hip
You slip from his arms, down to the floor panting. Jeno’s lips shining coated with a thick layer of slick. Face full of ecstasy staring down at you.
“Jeno..you’re hard..” you adjusts sitting up on your knee’s. Hands trailing his smooth firm thighs. Pushing him back to seat in the chair behind his figure. Jeno licks his lips savoring the taste of you left behind. Sucking in a breath between teeth, sliding fingers into your scalp.
“It’s okay..” he pauses releasing a shocked sound. Your tongue laps around the tip of his cock, tenderly cradling his full thick size in your small hand. Jeno’s brain near explodes amazed by how your fingers can’t wrap around his girth entirely.
“Ah..” his chest lifts, falling back against his chair when you suck his cock head in. Tongue swirling around deliciously, full sack drawing up between his legs. Your hands grip his thighs, slowly inching in forward coughing around the mass size of him. Eyes burning when you look up for approval to continue. Jeno sighs in relief, hot mouth struggling around him tightly. Gently he pries you away, thumb running over your swelling pouting lips.
“Too big for you baby?” His voice lowers, asking sweetly. Bending over pressing his forehead on yours staring into your tear filled eyes.
“I love it so much!” You bounce on your knee’s. Nails lightly dragging down his thighs. “More!”
Jeno expresses an all too pleased smile. Pushing your flopping ears back. Hands slide to your jaw holding you open. “Gonna be a good bun, take it all. Don’t move, be careful with your teeth too baby.”
Jeno helps you with a hand placed on top of your head. Another on your nape, resisting his urge to fuck deep in your throat. Praising you for deep throating him like a pro. Spit spilling past your stretched lips down to his balls. Basketball shorts messy coated with your bodily fluids. Hand soothingly encouraging you to take his length with soft squeezes on your neck.
Choked garbled sounds hit the back of your throat. Cock filling your wet mouth, tongue flatly pressed along a pulsing vein.
“Shit bunnnnn..” Jeno drawls a struggling cry. Thrusting the last two inches of his size in. Hitting so deep, knocking your tonsils in the process. Tears and spit flow, gagging and coughing around his fat cock “so good, you’re so good baby..love you, my perfect bunny.”
His fingers tap over your expanded cheeks, hissing when your throat constricts. Relaxing into his seat, eyes skimming the screen where the hybrid’s twisted up with legs above her head double penetrated. Cock twitching angry, ready for that to be you. Losing himself to the fantasy gripping around the back of your head. Jeno grinds into your stuffed mouth. Grunting raspy moans, size beating on your tongue. His hips lift up keeping you held in place fucking up chasing release. Growling louder as spit and tears fly letting him have his way.
“Fuck…oh fuck bun..” Jeno arches up. Ass dropping into his chair, eyes crinkled shut. Hot bursts of cum shoot down your throat gagging you. Pulling off coughing up spit and cum smeared over your lips. Jeno’s chest rises rapidly, cock still spewing cum on his messy shorts.
“Jeno! What the fuck!” Renjun’s mouth hangs open. Hand around the door knob to Jeno’s shared room with Jaemin. The latter showing up behind him dawning a large smile. Proudly holding two thumbs up behind Renjun’s head with an exclamation.
“Oooh, sexy!!”
——————————————————————————
Hanging out in Jeno and Jaemin’s room had become more common. Often times cuddled between the two wrapped up in oversized worn hoodies from their laundry baskets. Jaemin rutted against your underwear clad ass, thrusting you into Jeno. A ten minute nap turning into another dry hump session. Jeno’s lips brushed along your chin littering soft kisses. Deep breath’s drawing from his mouth stroking across your skin. His thighs wrapped around your hip jutting forward into your core.
“Bun, you’re so hot..” Jeno’s brows furrow in concern. Back of his hand meeting your cheek letting out a hiss. “Like…super hot..”
“Fuck yea, super hot..” Jaemin’s hips jerk up faster agreeing. Heavily breathing along your ear. Jeno sits up, pushing him off. Eyes widening taking in your lost expression. Glazed over eyes rolling up when his hand sets on your hip.
“Dude the fuck..” Jaemin protests, moving on to his knee’s. Following Jeno’s movement, his brows draw up. “Bunbun? What’s wrong baby?”
“..I think..” Jeno parts your legs open sucking in a deep breath. Soaked cotton between your thighs sets his gut aflame. Inner thighs glisten in slick forming a spot on his bedding beneath you. “Renjun…I’m gonna get Renjun..”
Jaemin’s eyes extend in size, lost himself when Jeno charges out of the room. His hands stroke your hair back, cupping the back of your head to place in his lap. Questioning the more shallow your breath’s release- “What’s wrong baby?”
Your chest rises and falls faster, the wall behind Jaemin’s head spins. Heart thumping faster between your legs. Hole gripping at nothing, gushing out loads of slick.
Renjun appears with a frantic Jeno garbling out words at his side. “Do you think it’s…”
Renjun sits on his knees holding your cheeks softly. Eyes glinting with worry, thumbs stroking your burning skin. “Baby, can you tell me how you feel?”
“..hot, so hot Renjunnie..” you whine, dropping your face to the side. Tongue sweeping the tip of his thumb. Sucking breathily around his finger with need you croon- “W-want you, ne-…n-need so much.”
The three share a look, groins shifting in discomfort. Jaemin’s dick throbs on his thigh near your fluffed ear.
“Should we call Haechan?..” He whispers, stroking his palms down the sides of your head lovingly. Jeno nods pulling out his phone, swiping up Haechan’s contact.
“I’ll call him. I think buns going into heat.”
TAGLIST IS CLOSED! and sorry to anyone not tagged. your blog does not come up :(💔
“Ow! Fuck!” You whimper, groaning. Landing on your shoulder, rolling over to relieve the pain shooting up your arm. Jeno frantically squats down, hard dick nearly slapping you in the face. Wide eyes full of concern as his hands hover near the arm you’re cradling.
“Oh my God I’m so fucking sorry baby. Do you need to go to the hospital?!” He sounds apologetic, worried. Settling a hand over your bare hip, thumb stroking back and forth. You hiss, lifting you arm weakly with a roll of your shoulder.
“I think….it’s ok…” Jeno’s head shakes, taking in the anguish all over your face. Wrapping around your waist and other arm to lift you. Hesitation has you clawing at the floor, not ready to experience hurdling to the ground from mid-air again.
“Babe, I’m sorry!” Jeno feels you struggle against his hold. Hoisting you up to lay on top of his bed. “That’s never happened before! I just…I lost my balance!”
Nodding in attempt to settle his anxiety, you get comfortable against Jeno’s pillow. Scent of the alpha prominent in the cushion. Wafting through your sense with calm. “Maybe, an ice pack?.. and some cuddles?”
“Anything for you” Jeno leans down kissing your tender arm. Sorrowful scent wafting off his prominent neck gland. He rushes off, returning with an ice pack in hand. Laying next to you scattering light kisses up and down your arm. Pressing the freezing bag on your skin, murmuring apologetic words when you hiss from the contact. “Can’t believe I did that..”
“It’s okay Jeno, I’m not mad or anything. You owe me a lot of pampering.” You pout, letting Jeno roll on top of you pecking at your lips. There was no time for another round anyway, settling for some sweet touches and soft words.
You’d need to get to the gym for a session with your trainer in a couple of hours. Today just had to be arm day..
Jaemin was never easy on you, always left you aching. Whether it be from a sweaty training, or fucking you to tears.
—————————————————————————
“Why are you being so fucking lazy?” Jaemin presses his chest to your back. Hands cupping around your elbows, shooting you a heavy brow filled glare in the mirror. Pushing your arms until you curl in heavy weights with a painful groan. Arm throbbing with hurt the more pressure you put on it.
“I’m not!” You shriek, dropping the weight from your left hand. Shaking out your arm, urging blood circulation to flow faster. Jaemin’s hold wraps around your forearm mid-air, eyes squinting looking you over.
“Is that a bruise on your shoulder?” He pokes at the faint mark forming. Hissing and pulling free of his grasp, you slap at his chest.
“Who does that! Asshole! Oh is that a bruise?! Let me fucking find out by touching it!” You shout, continuing to slap at his firm pecks. Jaemin breaking into a cocky smile, pronouncing his chest further.
“That’s right, love when you try to hurt me baby.” His hands encircle your wrists holding you steady. Gulping as you disappear under his large palms. “Is that why you’re acting like such a wimp today? My baby hurt herself?”
“Stopppp…” whining, your face drops onto his shoulder. Cheeks getting hot the more he taunts you. Jeno never played mind games with you the way Jaemin did. They were…different…similar, but different. “Jeno dropped me on accident..”
Jaemin pulls away, confusion twisting his brows together. Hold slipping to your forearms not loosening. “He WHAT?”
“It was an accident!” Right as you get ready to continue defending Jeno’s name, the studio door slams open. The alpha himself stepping foot inside, throwing down his gym bag. Scoffing as he spots you and Jaemin embraced.
“Aren’t you two supposed to be working out?” Jeno’s eyes thin. Pulling off his t-shirt, revealing skin stretched tightly over his muscular physique.
“We were, but some dickhead hurt my angel.” Jaemin let’s you go, hand coming under your chin. “What did Jeno do to you? Do I need to beat his ass?”
Jeno pauses in disbelief, betrayal evident in his features. Your head shakes rushing to explain.
“No! He’d never hurt me on purpose! He dropped me when we were fucking earlier and..”
“Oh my God.” Jeno groans, raking hands over his face. More embarrassed than annoyed now. Jaemin’s arrogant laugh busts free, bouncing off the mirrored walls.
“You fucking dropped her with your dick inside?! Oh man, this is too fucking good.” Jaemin boasts, clicking his tongue. Hand gently placed on your sore shoulder. “How could you hurt my delicate fragile little omega like that? See…this is why you should only fuck with me.”
Jeno approaches, arms folded across his chest. Shooting daggers into Jaemin’s head with his eyes. “That’s not what happened! I…I slipped!”
“Jeno…don’t lie babe..you dropped me!” You move closer to him. Stroking over his bicep to calm him down. Jeno pulling away like a scorned puppy.
“I’m not lying! I SLIPPED!” Jeno growls. Fists rolled up at his sides. Jaemin keels over cracking up, dropping to his knee’s. Hand waving in the air, other wrapped around his stomach.
“Stop..stop” he heaves out between catching breath’s. Wheezing out laughter after each inhale. “This is too much. Ah, I told you to stop skipping leg day man.”
“Dude fuck off! I FUCKING SLIPPED!” Jeno shoves Jaemin’s shoulder. The other alpha losing his balance, falling to the floor. Rolling around turning into a giggling mess.
“Ah, that’s my ab workout for the day. I knew I was better at fucking than you..” he sits up, hair a mess from tossing around. Winking at the both of you. “That’s why she always comes back for me, isn’t that right.”
Jaemin gets back on his knee’s swiftly, arms pulling around your waist. Drawing you in, cheek laying on your hip. “Would never drop you my queen. Would rather sacrifice myself, it’s what I’d deserve for being such a weak bitch.”
“That’s it. Get up, I’m kicking your ass.” Jeno grits, fists twitching. The alpha on his knee’s tosses him a menacing look. Brows wiggling up and down suggestively.
“It’s the truth isn’t it Jeno? My dicks bigger, I last longer, I’m flat out stronger than you.” Jaemin slowly stands up straight, reaching Jeno’s eye level as he finishes his sentence. Both alphas glaring into each other’s eyes intensely. Defined smooth jaws glowing under the gym’s studio lights. It’d be hot if you weren’t so concerned with them ripping each other’s heads off.
“Guys come on! Chill out! It’s not a big deal alright!” Your hands try to pry them apart, uselessly. The brawny figures not budging a bit from your attempt. “Jeno didn’t drop me too hard! I’m fine!”
“I DIDN’T DROP YOU!!” Jeno shouts, arms thrown in the air. Quickly shoving at Jaemin’s chest, the other alpha catching himself stumbling back in surprise. “I fuck her better than you ever could. My dick drives her crazy.”
Jeno pulls you into his chest, hips shoving against your ass. Teeth finding your earlobe with a rough bite. “Tell him baby, tell him how I fuck you until you pass out. Can’t even walk when I’m done with you.”
“She probably can’t walk cause you make her get on top!” Jaemin’s grin grows, tongue rolling against the roof of his mouth. Firm grip squeezing your hips, drawing your lower half to his. “My poor omega, has to get fucked properly by me. You probably cum before she even can either. Bet my baby has to fake her orgasms with you all the time.”
“Jaemin!” You whimper, manhandled between the pairs of hands on your body. Heat flowing up to your head making everything feel foggy. Stupid meathead alpha’s and their amazing dicks. Jeno and Jaemin had to make a competition out of everything. Workout sessions with the both of them were brutal. The only perk ended up being getting fucked by one of them, as they’ve proven not knowing how to share well.
“You want to prove that asshole?” Jeno’s arms reach around you neck. Strong muscles encasing you in a chokehold with no threat. Marking his claim with a new position, wordlessly stating- this is my territory. “We all know my dicks bigger. She never has to fake anything with me. I know how to use it unlike you.”
Jaemin rolls his hips against yours, growing turned on the more Jeno tries to degrade him. Loves how easily his best friends ego can be bruised with a few words. “Yea Jeno? How much do you wanna bet I can last longer? I don’t need breaks, I can fuck standing all night. You know I never miss a leg day.”
“..a bet?” Jeno questions. Nose brushing your ear softly humming to himself. “We both fuck her, see whose all talk. I win, you guys stop sleeping together.”
“Huh?!” Your eyes widen, meeting Jaemin’s. Hatred flies past the alpha’s eyes quickly. He’s never had a problem with the ‘friends with benefits’ relationship you all established. It’s always been Jeno trying to ruin it.
“That’s fine. I won’t lose. Rock paper scissors for who goes first, 5 out of 5.” Jaemin finishes with a thrust at your covered core. Lowly grunting in his chest, eyes locked on Jeno’s. “No weak shit. Real alpha’s can handle fucking a small omega anytime, anywhere, any way.”
Jeno’s arms tighten around your neck on instinct before you can protest. Spitting out leaned in closer to Jaemin’s face. “I’ll win, she’ll be mine. Shut your ass up for good.”
—————————————————————————
“I can’t believe we’re doing this.” You rest on your palms against your bed. Completely bare watching Jaemin and Jeno throw out their decided hand for rock, paper, scissors. Eyes rolling up when Jaemin beats Jeno’s paper with scissors, mumbling to yourself- “what am I? a hole?”
Jaemin slaps your thigh, brows lifting. Sinking down to his knee’s parting your legs open.- “That’s how you like it baby. Know how you love getting fucked open like a good little cock sleeve. I’ll go first, let Jeno have my leftovers. He’s used to that.”
“What are you doing? The rules are that we stand.” Jeno scowls, crossing his sculpted arms across his naked chest. Thick cock hanging between his legs, too frustrated he lost already to even think about fucking you.
“Ever heard of foreplay? Damn Jeno, you don’t even get her wet first? There’s no way you fuck her dry with that monstrosity.” Jaemin nods to Jeno’s limp dick resting against his thigh. Between the both of them you’d be sore for days. Determined to fuck you harder than the other, all too familiar with the love of tears they both seemed to share.
“She’s always wet for me, I don’t have to work for it unlike you.” Jeno spits, sitting on the corner of your bed. Three of you deciding this would be the fairest choice, something about being too ‘comfortable’ in their own space. Burying a hand in Jaemin’s hair, you tug him hard enough to draw his attention back to you. Two hot naked alpha’s and not one of them touching you yet irritating more than arousing.
“Pull harder.” Jaemin stares up at you with a dangerous eyes. Hands slapping your inner thighs parting you open further. His biceps flex, twitching as he hoists your thighs on his shoulder. “Fuck my tongue just how you like baby.”
Ending his sentence with a lewd spit to your core, his fingers swipe between your folds. Gripping your bed sheet in one hand and his hair with the other as he mixes spit with slick. Jaemin wasting no time, fingers working in rapid successions swiping side to side. Messy wet sounds grow louder, chewing at your bottom lip to hold in needy whimpers. Jaemin’s tongue licking over his lips leaving them looking shiny, tempting. Ready to devour you whole.
“A-alpha…more..please” mewling out. Jaemin slaps a heavy hand on your mound. Slick splashing out past your thighs pulling a cry from low in your chest.
“You know what to do.” Jaemin growls, slapping over your pussy meanly. Licking the slick coating his hand, tongue sliding between his fingers like the depraved hungry alpha you know him to be. Dirty, messy, always thirsty to taste you from every hole. Tugging at the hair gathered in your hand with force breaks a smile out on his face. Eyes bunching up hidden cutely by the swell of skin protecting his under eyes. Hardening dick spasming along his pelvic when you pull harder. Your hips lifting in the air, soaked up pussy calling to him.
“Eat me out, please eat me out.” Pathetically crying shoving his face down closer to your burning core. Arms wrap around your thighs perched on his shoulders. Eyes rolling up looking at you full of lust. Tongue slowly inching forward, languidly dipping in. Tip of his tongue circling your clit, brushing back and forth. Stimulating nerves you never even knew existed until the first time Jaemin got on his knee’s for you.
His mouth spreads open, tongue finding your hole. Slurping up the slick sopping from your entrance. Tip circling around, pulling back with a spit at your winking hole. Tongue shoving in, pussy clenched around him. Both of your hands end up in his hair, pulling harder. The alpha eating you out like a pro, grunting with every yank to his scalp. Pain eliciting excitement in his groin. He pulls back breathy, pretty face covered in shine. Mouth hung open, dazed in your hot scent. Shit-eating grin painting his features when your eyes meet. Tears threatening to spill from yours turning him on even more.
“So tasty baby. My sweet omega.” Sitting up with a hand on your chest he pushes you back. Laid on your bed, he straddles your hips. Hands squeezing and jiggling your chest.
“Can’t wait till you’re filled up, full of milk.” His eyes stay on yours, bending forward. Teeth clamping around a hardened bud, shaking your breasts around. Drawing your nipple into his mouth with a harsh suck. Eyes rolling shut, rolling the bud around with a groan. Fingers pinching and pulling roughly at your other breast. Biting down on your lip as fresh tears pool down your heated cheeks.
“Jaemin…alpha..ah fuck..” your voice cracks. Wiping your face with the backs of your hands. Jaemin leaving your chest bitten and glossy with spit. Switching over to the other, taking time deliver you the kind of pain you love.
“Get your tits all fat when I fuck you full of my pups baby.” Bouncing your breasts in his large hands, Jaemin spits between your chest. Groaning admiring the way you glow for him. “Make you cry everyday over my cock. Anything you want.”
“Hurry the fuck up.” Jeno snaps from beside, moving up your bed further away. Jaw clenched angry, starting to regret agreeing to this idea.
Jaemin scoffs, lifting you up by your shoulders. Pulling you up to stand with a spin nearly losing your balance. Arms circling your waist, pulling you back against his muscular chest. “I got you baby, I’m not Jeno. I won’t let you fall.”
Jaemin slaps your upper thigh, hand sliding beneath your knee. Lifting you up, toes skirting over your bed. Doing the same to your other side, your feet on the bed, knee’s bent.
“No help from the bed.” Jeno spits out. Jaemin shooting him a glare of death. Arms shifting under your knee’s, holding you up against his front.
“Don’t need it anyway.” Jaemin’s lips press to your ear, gently kissing. “Hold on to me pretty baby. Let’s show Jeno how you like it.”
Confused, your arms lift, dropping behind your head. Fingers connecting behind Jaemin’s neck securely. Jaemin slowly lowers you onto his massive cock. Wet hole struggling to open up around him, clinging around his length with every inch entering.
“Ugh..” your head drops to the side, the alpha’s nose nuzzling into your cheek. Eyes shut holding in tears, juices trickling from your core slicking the way for his size. Thrust up filling you, mouth hung open choking on air. Full, so full. Jaw loose, drool spilling out. Jaemin’s hips pistoning, cock hitting deep. It was too much already, letting tears spill down your cheeks. Jaemin’s sounds of pleasure at your ears. Pussy aching, clamped around his forceful size.
“Love when you cry for me. Get me so fucking hard baby. Cum around my cock, let me feel you.” Jaemin hisses against your cheek. Pulling out half-way, swirling deep inside letting you feel every inch. Violent shakes erupt through your body, weak in his grasp. Pussy tightening up around his cock, creamy slick easing Jaemin’s thrusts deeply in.
“I’m cum…cumming” your face drops, the alpha continuing to fuck through your pleasure. Slick slipping down his legs, hips jackhammering up. Bouncing you down on his cock like nothing. Head jerking with every brutal thrust working you open.
“Damn baby, you’re too tight.” Jaemin howls, dropping you down onto all fours. Pounding your pussy open, slick leaking out on your bedding. Crying harder into the mattress as the alpha’s pace only quickens. Feral alpha inside screaming to claim his omega, fuck her until all she knows is our cock.
Jaemin’s eyes glow red, watching the way your juices coat his length. Drawing back, slapping your hips against his. Cunt clinging to his cock beautifully, fucking your insides to a mess.
“Please! Alpha!” With another drawn out cry your back dips arching in. Ass sticking out further, cumming around Jaemin one more time. Eyes rolling back, thrusts turning sloppy. Jaemin groaning, head shaking around trying to force away his orgasm. Savoring the way you squeeze around him to milk him dry.
“FUCK!” Bending forward Jaemin lays over your back. Jerky hips hitting yours, hot white liquid bursts inside you. Little anguished whimpers flow to your ear, smile pulling at your lips. Jaemin always turning into a weak little baby whenever he couldn’t hold off his orgasm.
“Fuck, you’re so amazing.” Hot breath’s tickle your neck. Bitten chapped lips drawing kisses on your upper back. Slowly pulling out with a hiss. Cum spilling out, scrunching your nose up as it flows from your core.
“My turn.” Jeno grunts, standing. Hand wrapping around your calve dragging you to the other side of your bed. Yelping as he pulls nearly pulls you completely off. Jeno jerks his half hard cock up and down, not enjoying a second of watching you scream for Jaemin. Looking away whenever his eyes connected with either of yours. “I’m not hard yet baby.”
With a hand encircling your neck, he pulls you into a seated position. Dry tear stained face gazing up at him. Ab’s tense flexing in your face, cock dangling near your chin. Fingers dig into your throat, mouth falling open with a gag gasping for air. Jaemin loved teasing you, making you go crazy. Jeno loved breaking you down, turning you into nothing but his. His lips pulls back baring teeth- “what are you gonna do to fix that omega?”
Jeno’s hold draws you in, nose smashing on his stomach. Rubbing your face over his washboard abdomen, dipping into every crevice of toned defined muscle. Swollen core beating faster between your thighs, arousal stirring back up after the ride Jaemin put you through. Your eyes roll back, dragging your tongue through each dip in Jeno’s stomach. Spending extra time at his belly button, sinking in and out. The alpha watching you with hazy eyes, balls tightening up. Loving how high you always get off his body alone.
Lapping at the prominent veins raised on his skin, leading down to the thick meat between his legs. Thighs flexed, knee’s bent maneuvering with your mouth. Ab’s shining under your glossy spit, scent mixed with yours breaking uncontrollable thoughts in Jeno’s head. Kitten licking down the top of his fully hardened length to the tip, slowly sliding your tongue into his pre-cum filled slit. Jeno hisses, palm on your neck constricting tighter. Choking out a cough around his dick as your lips part. Wrapping around his cock head, lightly tonguing the large vein beneath.
Jeno releases you with a push, inhaling a deep breath as you land abruptly on your bed. He pushes you legs up, folding you into your chest. Knee’s at your shoulders, big hands cupping your calves. Dick finding space between your folds, gliding up and down. Covering his size in all of your wetness. Slick flowing out, dripping down past his balls. Jeno’s eyes flutter, familiar heat rising in his gut. Arms reach under your back, lifting you up with ankles dangling past his shoulders.
The position pulling memories of the other day back, your arm barely recovering still. Fear flows from your scent, annoying Jeno, tossing you up and catching you easily to prove a point. Jaemin clicking his tongue from your bed in displeasure. Laying himself out on the mattress, cozying up ready to watch Jeno fail.
“Not gonna fucking drop you.” Jeno’s teeth clench, sucking in a spitty breath. Skin hot like fire around you, fury heightening his arousal. Pulling you even closer, flexibility saving you. Jeno catches your lips kissing you, with care, softness. An apology for what he’s about to do to you. Nodding against his nose, lips fall to his jaw peppering soft pecks.
Jeno bends at the knee, grip around your thighs lifting you up. Your arms squeezing around his neck. Slamming you down on his dick with loud screams. Jeno releasing a raspy cry between grinding teeth. Shouting his name, neck dropping back. Jaemin’s eyes rolling watching it all unfold, Jeno had to make it romantic somehow.
Jeno mutters out praises, diving his length past your walls. Hips stilling, soaking in your pretty wails, the way you squeeze around him. Good omega, my pretty baby, no one takes me better than you, Jeno’s words drive you crazy. Slick spilling out past his size, anticipating whatever he’ll give you next. Sharing breathless pants locked together. His thighs drench in your wetness, rolling hips around stretching you around his size. Silently scoffing to himself how his dick’s much thicker than Jaemin’s.
“Alpha..” you whine hazily rolling your neck around. “Fuck me, fuck me hard.”
“You’re so wet” Jeno sighs, hands sliding down digging into the meat of your ass. A loud squelch sounds as he pulls out to the tip. Wasting no time, hands grip your ass, drilling back inside you with a hissed raspy growl. Jeno starts fucking you deep and slow, hitting every spot. Walls stretching around his cock with every drawback. “Love how you feel, always so good.”
He knows your body well now after months of hooking up. Sitting with you impaled on his size for hours, watching movies, playing video games. Training you to be his perfect little cock slut. Sweat rolls down Jeno’s face faster, working your body up and down his length with the strength of his arms alone. Back muscles jumping and contracting as he speeds up.
Hips snap into you, slamming you down on his cock. Loud noises of skin meeting skin sound around your room. Jeno’s teeth in your view, growling as he fucks up into you faster. Jostling up and down Jeno’s cock has the room spinning, legs cramping up. Stomach drawing in with a shouted cry. “Fuck Jeno! More more!!”
His thrusts grow frantic, hips bruising your ass with every bounce. Nails sinking into his upper back, scratching down. Orgasm punching through your chest, head tossing back screaming for your alpha. Jeno cries fucking past your pussy sucking him in trying to empty him. Twisting, falling to his knee’s managing to gently lay you on the floor. Hips still, pressing hands to your lower stomach.
“Keep those legs up for me, let me see how pretty you are.” Jeno mumbles, thumbs pushing your belly button in. Hips grinding, size hitting deep inside. Veins pulsating against your wet walls. Fucking you full to the brim, cock head finally protruding the skin above your mound. Eyes squeezing shut losing grip around your legs, flopping down on Jeno’s thighs.
“S-so..so full alpha. So fucking full.” Your broken whimpers drive Jeno insane. Neck and chest puffed out, breathing rapidly his knot finally starts expanding. Your cries and shouts harmonically flowing together. Jeno collapsing over you, lifted on his elbows. Whispering jumbled words, cum filling you up further. Satisfied stuffed full of cum from both of your alpha’s.
“My omega, my good omega. Fucked full of my pups. Takes everything I give her always.” Jeno sighs, a wet kiss on your forehead the last thing you remember before exhaustion takes over.
—————————————————————————-
Jaemin hums against the dip in your neck, breath cascading over your cooling skin- “so, who won?”
Jeno mumbles on your other side. Nose tickling your scent gland where he inhales softly. Relaxing as your scent circles his senses. Your fingers drag through their hair, scratching gently at their scalps. Like two sleepy puppies nuzzling at your sides. Fucking you past the point of coherency. Leaving you stuffed full of alpha cum just how you loved. The answer was obvious.
“Me.”
a/n: Thank You for 3000+ followers🥺 it’s all happened so fast, I hope these requests can express my gratitude💘
Preview: “The bullshit you chose to remember from years of bible study.” Jeno glares Haechan down. Vein covered hand pulsating squeezed around his brothers fist.
“Think you’re the only one that paid your dues to God? You’re not the good boy you want everyone to think you are Jeno.” Haechan shoves his elbow up, ripping free from the strong hold.
“and we aren’t the fucking Cain and Abel you think we are!” Jeno shouts, quickly maneuvering. Balling up Haechan’s collar tightly.
“Aren’t we? Hate me enough to bury me for your own gain yet nono?”
Pairing: brothers Jeno/Haechan x female reader
Word Count: 4k+
Genre: pwp, church boys AU, smut, love triangle, brothers nohyuck, M/F
Jeno brings you to the same spot from the other day after you finish lunch. Mark squealing in excitement as he led you to a booth. Something about finally making a faithful woman out of you. Both of you shyly dismaying him, earning a wink as he set down a basket of fries for you to share. Jeno setting the car in park right under a tree for shade. Fresh air passing around you both on a perfect summer day.
“I had a good time Jeno” you bite a smile away. Rolled down passenger window letting mid-day breeze relax you. Head resting against the cushiony seat. Haechan’s car clearly a big investment, reupholstered seats one of many enhancements. Brand new carpet, not even a visible speck of dust in sight.
Jeno scoots closer, butt wiggling into the middle seat. Large hand returning, stretched across your bare thigh. Chin nudging your shoulder until your neck turns. Eyes opening in surprise realizing how close he is. Jeno’s smile reaches his eyes, sparkles of white dancing around the deep brown. He begins, tongue darting out of the corner of his lip nervously- “Me too.. been thinking about you nonstop you know..”
Your face leans closer, sharing a breath. Taking in his features up close. Dark full eyelashes that make his eyes mysterious. Subtle curiosity in his gaze whenever you find him watching you. Pronounced cheek bones accentuating his strong nose. Cute nose that you could easily get lost in day dreams of kissing. Pretty pink lips pouting closely to yours. Music from the radio quietly blasting out of speakers no doubt purchased at a high price to add in the car follows Jeno’s movements. Inching in closer to each other like slow motion.
Jeno’s hand lifts, thumb swiping your chin. Forehead’s bumping together, both of your lips parting. Reaching your bottom lip, pulling on you to open up. Pad of his thumb gliding over bumpy gums. Teeth digging into his lips as your spit drips past his finger. Other hand sweeping between your squished thighs, rubbing the cotton of your panties teasingly between two fingers. Heartbeat racing in your chest the longer Jeno plays with you.
His thumb continues running over your teeth coating in saliva. Your tongue licking over rough skin on the pad. Jeno pressing down until a sound escapes the back of your throat. Nose crashing against yours, huffing breath’s into your widely parted mouth. Drool cascading off your chin, languidly spilling on your chest. Shining prettily under beams of sunlight reflecting through the windshield. Jeno swallows admiring the sight, pulling out just to smear the mess on your chin. Lips shoving on yours in deep breath. Wet kiss turning hot in seconds, tongues finding each other in less.
“Like getting messy?” Jeno mumbles, pulling away. Three of his fingers gliding into your opened mouth. Far in, prodding at your tonsils. “Tell me what you like. Wanna give you everything you like.”
With a fast nod, Jeno’s fingers collect wetness between your folds. Tapping at your clit with every swipe. Hand stretching the fabric of your underwear open further cupping over your mound. Fingers slip from your mouth leaving a trail of spit. Broken strained throaty sounds play in your throat, Jeno’s lips returning to yours. A hungry kiss turning sloppier, allowing him full access. His fingers teasing at your entrance with short dips in and out encouraging your hips to lift. Craving more of his touch, whimpering a cough between your thirsty licks.
“Really like..” you start, face aflame with heat. The pace of your heavy breath’s quickening. “..kissing you..”
Jeno pulls you onto his lap, hard-on digging into your ass. Lips never parting from yours, fingers sliding in past your opening entrance. Tremors passing through his chest pressed against you. Tongues tangled in a wet noisy battle like a tune carrying the music playing at your ears. Jeno inhales a large sum of air, gently pecking your bruising lips. Focusing his attention between your thighs. Working two fingers in and out, hole seeping out moisture lewdly on every drawback.
Lips brush your neck, tongue poking out with sweet little licks. Tickling wet laps on your heating flesh. Jeno taking his time, easing you into arousal. Wet sounds growing louder below with every pump of his fingers. His mouth latches at the tender skin on your neck, sucking vulgarly. A mixture of thrusts opening you up paired with Jeno’s hot lips send you arching forward. Rocking down against his hand, quickening your pace. Ass rolling down on the tent formed in his jeans, releasing groans bit into your neck.
Jeno grinds up, panting over the wet bruise forming on your skin. Wet lips graze your ear, a hushed raspy voice flowing- “wanna eat you out, swallow all your pussy up.”
Jeno has you shouting out, neck dropping on his shoulder. Hips stilling while orgasm tears through you. Creaminess soaking his fingers, wiggling through your clamping heat. A second wave of pleasure pulling out a scream from deep in your abdomen. Lifting off with a noisy gushing pop, liquid sliding down your inner thighs. Sounds of pitter patter, landing on leather seats. Wetness sinking into the dips of Haechan’s car seats, successfully beginning the mess Jeno plans to leave.
The car seat suddenly dips, Jeno cranking the lever for release. Laid flat back against his hard built chest. Hand slapping across your sensitive mound, teeth burying on the soft skin behind your ear. “Sit on my face.”
Jolting up, skin aflame, you turn around, straddling Jeno’s stomach. Leaving a trail of your slick over his shirt. Hands gripping the collar of his top, pulling him up. Dipping your tongue in the dip above his lip. His eyes besming up at you, hazy lust, demanding more. Kitten licking at each other, working the buttons of his shirt open. Impatiently ripping the rest apart, buttons struggling to hang on by a thread. Fingers immediately finding the silver barbell punctured through his perked nipple.
Exuding moans when you pinch, rolling the bud between two fingers. Jeno’s stung bitten lips reddening under white teeth. Arching up seeking more of your touch. Palm flattening over his other nipple, teasing it back and forth. Sinking lower, the tip of your tongue rolls around his chest. Dribbling saliva over the gleaming jewelry. Sucking him in between your lips, nibbling until Jeno hisses. His fingers digging into your sides, pulling you up. Jeno smiles amused, lifting you higher over his chest. “Need to taste you.”
Jeno shuffles you closer with ease, arm muscles rippling. Panties stretched aside, gathering your skirt up. Eyes and nose bridge the only part of his face left visible. Messy hair falling over his forehead, flattened on the seats headrest. Strong hands caress the sides of your thighs. Respiring shallow breath’s, nerves sky rocketing under each feather-light touch. The sight between your thighs felt heavenly, euphoric even. Jeno’s jaw hinged open, tongue laving your sopping heat. Smothered under you, steamy eyes connected to yours.
Heavy hands run up your inner thighs, arms wrapped around your legs holding you firmly. Jeno’s neck straining, working your sensitive hole around his warm tongue. Sopping wetness smearing across his chin, nose, reaching deeper between your walls. Yelping and jumping up when he slaps the meat on your thigh. Demanding you fuck yourself on his mouth. Shyly swiveling your lower half, pleased noises travel through your core. Tentatively building up a slow rhythm on his mouth. Nose nudging your clit with every push forward. The position feels vulnerable, powerful, Jeno giving you the power to use him. To use a part of him to get off, the thought has you grinding down faster. Hot groans muffled inside your core making you fold over. Fingers gripping Jeno’s messy tuft of hair, tugging enough to hurt. Arousal shoots through his cock, jumping between his legs. Body begging him to speed things up.
Fucking yourself on his tongue eagerly now, obscene moans shadowing whatever song was blasting in the background. Blood roaring in your ears with every racing heartbeat pumping through your veins. Low thuds at the center of your chest have you short of breath. Slamming down with a shout of Jeno’s name, helpless hole wrapping his tongue up. Slick piling on the dip of his chin, slurping up most of it. Not too concerned about leaving a mess behind in Haechan’s car.
His hips lift up, fucking into the air. Neediness to fill you becoming overwhelming. Frail whined gasps fill Jeno’s ears. Manhandling you onto his lap, wet lips messily licking yours. Filthy taste of your sex blending in your caverns deliciously. Sweet moans shared between laps of your tongues, cleaning off the dribbling wetness from his jaw.
“Want you.” Jeno’s feral tone sets you off. Sniffling, head nodding in agreement. Lightly playing, letting the tips of your noses brush together. Jeno pecks you, motioning in the direction of the backseat. Car sex had to be redeemable in comparison to church sex.
You ease into the spacious backseat together. Jeno laying you down, settling between your slightly parted thighs. Hole opening and closing, excitement diminishing any fear you had. Unconsciously reaching for the button of his jeans. Sharing shameless smiles as he pulls off his shirt. Chains flashing brightly on his pale defined collar. Demon moving on Jeno’s shoulder watching your ministrations as well. Defined sculpted abs leading to a path of thin hair hiding something below. Hips bones uncovered, no strip of boxer to hide any skin. Eyes lighting up, rushing to get his bottoms off.
Your hands pause unzipping Jeno’s jeans, A bold black inked star appearing on his pelvic. His hips lift allowing you to shimmy off his bottoms. Tattoo fully revealed at the side of his engorged length. All too distracted reading the words left inside of the star- “How art thou fallen from heaven, O Lucifer, son of the morning!”
A gasp slips from your hung open mouth, deep breath drawing in your lungs like liquid ice. Jeno’s hands dig into your hips, brows lifting. Astonishment displayed in your eyes forming a smile on his lips. “Surprised?”
Your index finger traces over each small letter, repeating the words in your mind. The book of Isaiah…Lucifer’s fall from grace. Obvious thoughts pass your face, questioning- “Why would you get that tattooed permanently?..”
“Long story.. something about it makes me feel less guilty about my own fall from grace. If angels can’t last in heaven, why should I feel bad for not obeying God’s will..” Jeno’s dick twitches near your hand. Still stroking over the stark ink on his smooth skin. Heat blazing in your core reminding you why you took off his jeans, to begin with. Head slowly nodding, understanding his words, resonating with the quote. Your recent fall from grace seeming less terrible.
“We have nothing to be ashamed of Jeno. You’re really nice.. too nice..a good guy. People assuming things about you off appearance and rumors are the ones who should be ashamed. We’re just..” you start, drifting off. Hand encircling Jeno’s size, a gasp of air flowing from his chest. Rising and falling slowly, built up anticipation triggering urges. You squeeze around his pulsating dick, wrist twisting upward. “..human.”
Lips land together, tongues swiping past entrances. Sinful tastes shared with unspoken words. Sliding further down Jeno’s thighs, closing the distance between your bodies. Soaking wet cunt buried under Jeno’s length held in your hand. Slowly inching down, drawing a deep breath from just the tip. Wetness seeping out of you coating the back of your hand. Precum slopping around your mound. Sticky gushing mess between your lower halves incinerating flames. Eyes locked together, taking time to guide him down lower. Walls stretching open over his thick size, painful if it weren’t for how aroused you were. Jeno fatter and larger than any you’d taken before.. not that you had much to compare to.
Delicate folds cling around Jeno’s cock, wheezing out a whimper. Hands finding his biceps, muscles flexed tight showing off every pronounced vein. Nerves reappear in your glossy eyes, finding Jeno’s once again. His nod acknowledging, hand pressing on your throat with no force. Other finding your swollen needy clit, thumb rolling around slowly. Waist dipping forward sighing, Jeno sliding in deeper. Murmured groans vibrate against his palm, thumb around your neck stroking along your jawline.
“You feel so good.. love how you feel..” Jeno’s eyes blink, twitching. Seething in past your tightness. Neck displayed above you, growling in his chest. “Tight, fuck. So tight.”
Jeno’s thumb lifts, smearing drool sliding from your lips. Filled to the brim, dizzying heat muddling your mind. Tongue licking whenever he comes close enough, sinking nails in his bulging arm muscles. He presses in, molding you to shape around his length. Walls expanding around him with every firm thrust. Precise thumb work on your bundle of nerves forcing embarrassing sounds out as Jeno thrusts.
Slowly sliding out, slick dripping past your ass onto the seat below. Fingers squeeze, encasing your neck. Jeno dipping forward, chains hung from his neck drag over your lips. Licking at the cool metal clanking against your teeth as his hips build up. Piercing thrusts opening you up, focusing on fucking you into the backseat. His hand lifts, shoving one of the chains under your tongue. Stroking back your messed hair, panting on top of you.
Core squeezing around him every pull, begging to be fucked harder. Cool necklace against your tongue tastes familiar, like Jeno. Eyes fluttering wildly, fucking you harder. Coiling sensation in Jeno’s belly indicating he won’t last much longer. Car rocking enough for anyone walking by to know exactly what’s happening. His tongue dips in your mouth, tangling the chain in a kiss. Metal swiping over your sloppy tongues, teeth hitting. Jeno grunting noisily, demanding thrusts bouncing you further up the seat. Head hitting the car door above you, eyes rolling up.
“Fuck Jeno!” Screams fly from your chest. Cumming with intensity, out of body like. Jeno hammering past your convulsing walls. Face sweating and reddening on top of you, gritting teeth.
“Yes!” Shouting, his lips smash on yours. Hips stilling with a pained groan slipping out. Steaming hot cum shooting out, spilling past his thick size. White liquid mess under your ass half drying into the seat.
—————————————————————————-
“We made a mess…” you say to yourself staring over your shoulder into the absolutely destroyed backseat with a cringe. Jeno laughs, tapping at the steering wheel. Driving you back home after maybe some sticky cuddling..and more kissing. Maybe two more rounds of fucking that left stains on the passenger backseat, and floor.
“Don’t forget up here.” Jeno nods to the space between you. Slapping his arm, grimace intensifying.
“Your brother’s gonna kill you.’
“I’d love to see him try.” Parking in your driveway, he leans over the dried up mess of your slick. Gentle soft kisses left on your swollen lips. Letting you know he’d be texting you once he got home to ensure he was alive.
Haechan’s sat on the stoop of their porch, standing up pissed off. Charging at Jeno as he exits the vehicle.
“Why the fuck did you have my car!”
“Had a date. You might want to clean it up. We kinda made a mess in there.” Jeno shrugs sporting a large smile. Heading inside to the bathroom. Haechan’s window shattering scream of his name the last thing he hears before turning on the shower.
——————————————————————————
“You fucking asshole. You owe me $900 for new seats.” Haechan slams Jeno into the kitchen door frame. Waiting for his chance to corner his brother. Sneaking up on him when the front door opens, Jeno returning after hanging out with you.
Jeno grunts, coughing for air knocked from his lings. Eyes slitting, squeezing Haechan’s wrist in a death grip. Spitting out vengefully- “Consider us even now. As if I didn’t have to hand wash your spunk off fucking holy altar garments.”
“Oh boo-hoo, always bitching about fucking church camp. My stupid older brother used me as a scapegoat, woe is me. You fucked up my car!” Haechan shouts. Grappling with each other, Jeno managing to shove a leg between his. Years or karate coming in handy suddenly. Shifting them deeper into the kitchen. “What happened to ‘blood is thicker than water’ nono?!? What about ‘Do not repay evil for evil.’ Huh?!”
“The bullshit you chose to remember from years of bible study.” Jeno glares Haechan down. Vein covered hand pulsating squeezed around his brother's fist.
“Think you’re the only one that paid your dues to God? You’re not the good boy you want everyone to think you are Jeno.” Haechan shoves his elbow up, ripping free from the stronghold.
“and we aren’t the fucking Cain and Abel you think we are!” Jeno shouts, quickly maneuvering. Balling up Haechan’s collar tightly.
“Aren’t we? Hate me enough to bury me for your own gain yet Jeno?” Haechan grins. Pushing Jeno’s buttons the way only he can. Likes to think he’s the reason behind his younger brother’s more violent nature. Egging him on growing up to bully anyone that pissed him off. Jeno’s reputation around town partially his own doing.
“I have nothing to gain from hating you. You’re the one determined to ruin our relationship. Just leave her the fuck alone! You got what you wanted didn’t you?!” Jeno groans, frustrated. Tongue gathering spit, ready to wipe that shit-eating expression off Haechan’s face.
“Maybe I want more?” The question has Jeno’s ears ringing. Burning rage soaring up inside, tossing Haechan down on the kitchen table. Loud cracks blaring beneath his back. Arching up in pain, the old table losing strength collapsing under their weight. Landing on the old linoleum kitchen floor, tiles lifted around them. Both sucking in shocked gasps of air. Jeno quickly regaining focus. Wrapping a hand around his older brother’s neck, fist in the air ready to attack.
“I said leave her alone. I really fucking like her. I’m not joking.” Jeno heaves. Mouth twitching, holding himself back. A small tiny hopeful part of him believing his brother loves him more than this.
“I really fucking like her too. Really like fucking her.” Haechan turns serious. Expression calming, Jeno’s eyes slipping shut. Fist barreling into the older’s mouth. Lip instantly splitting open, scream surrounding his hand. Haechan’s head thudding back on the now shattered table.
“What in the hell are you two doing!” Pastor Lee barges in, hands in the air. Panic filling his wide eyes. Jeno falling off Haechan laid out at his side, exhausted. Pretending to hate his brother draining life out of him. Both boys stare up at their father. Haechan coughing, holding his bloody lip. Muttering ‘you stupid fucking brute, my lip!’
“My table!” Pastor Lee continues to fret. Picking up a leg from his now destroyed kitchen table. Lasting through years of meals, arguments, conversations with his sons. “What was the reason! Why can’t you two ever behave like decent followers of God!”
“Jeno’s being a dick! ‘cause I fucked his girlfriend.” Haechan glares into his side. Jeno’s eyes rolling, nose twitching. Rubbing over his sore fist, bone cracking ugly when meeting his brother's mouth.
“You what?!” Their dad’s shouting booms louder. Eyes now bulging out of their sockets. Bewilderment hitting him before realization settles. “You have a girlfriend now Jeno!??”
“He does, and I fucked her! Don’t forget nono.” Haechan sighs. Aligning his aching jaw, lip evidently swelling.
“Don’t care. You fuck anything with legs. You really fucking deserved that too.” Jeno mumbles, pointing to where Haechan cradles his bottom lip. Sitting up, finally acknowledging his father. “Yea…I guess I do dad..”
Pastor Lee’s mind spins, vision blurring. Two brothers, sleeping with the same girl. Memories of confessions erupt in his head. The puzzle pieces landing in place. Good fucking God.
——————————————————————————-
“Wait up!” Haechan’s voice calls from behind you. A familiar sound you’d recognize anywhere. Slowing to a halt walking through the church's back hallway. Planning to surprise Jeno in his altar boy get-up before mass. Waist twisting, catching sight of Haechan jogging toward you. What could he possibly want now..
“Hey” he stops at your front, smiling wide. Nose scrunching up a bit too cutely for even Haechan. Deflecting your surprise with a cough, nodding casually.
“Hey? What’s up?” Directing a lifted brow with a step further back. Feigning shock at his less than perfect appearance. Finding a wall behind you, fingers spread at your lower back. Haechan doesn’t hesitate to step in closer.
“You and Jeno..” His eyes skirt over your features. Pouted lips adorning a deep cut, cracking in dry blood. Moving slightly, eyes ending on your mouth. “..fucked up my car. It’s gonna cost me a fortune to get cleaned.”
“Deserved, I’d say..” Haechan hovering in has you whispering your retort. Hands placed on the wall around your head. His neck dipping forward, face an inch away from yours.
“Little modern day Lilith I’ve turned you into. Some of my best work I have to say.” Haechan boasts. Hips lining up to yours, flattening you against your hands keeping you off the wall.
“You took my virginity..” You snap. Shimmying your hands out, placing them on Haechan’s waist pushing away. “..stop acting as if you can fucking walk on water.”
Haechan sighs, removing your hold. Tangling your wrists together, lifted between your faces. Cut lips grazing over your knuckles, hooded menacing eyes gazing down. “I let Jeno have his fun, now you come back to me..”
Haechan lands on his knees, dragging your arms down. Keeping you held in place, chin perched on your stomach. Dreamy eyes linger on yours, pressing a kiss to your belly button under the fabric of your shirt. “You should thank me. I took you from boring and turned you into a sexy harlot. You’d be nothing without me, Jeno wouldn’t want you.”
Ripping free from Haechan’s grip, your hand yanks his hair. Face tugged off your abdomen, shaking him in your hold. “You only want me now because you think you changed me…”
Haechan’s cheek glow, a smile reaching the bottoms of his eyes. Chin nudging against your hip with a nod. “I made you perfect. For me. Poor Jeno, always having to remember that I fucked his precious girlfriend first.”
“No..” shoving him away with a release, you stand up straight. Angry tremors traveling up your arms, anxiously staring him down. “You didn’t like me, you don’t like me. You liked claiming me. Jeno likes me, as I am..”
Haechan grimaces, sitting cross legged on the ground. Eyes rolling up, head tilted to the side. “You’re really choosing Jeno over me??”
Every moment leading up to this signified the importance behind what had taken place. Haechan killing two birds with one stone- taking something irreplaceable away from you just to be able to say he did. Pissing off Jeno enough in the process able to hold something over his head.
You succumbing to your silent repressed urges. Forever too fearful of disobeying your mother’s words, the lord’s words.
Jeno, who you wrongly judged, who everyone wrongly judged. Good and evil weren’t real, but bad people hiding behind an armor of God were. No one’s perfect, no one’s innocent. Nevertheless, do unto other’s as they do to you.
“I’m really choosing Jeno over you.”
——————————————————————————-
“I’ll be right out Jeno” with a peck you wave your hand. Signaling for him to head out and start his bike up. A date planned today to head out of town. Venture to a record store that had tons of old vinyl. Jeno dusting off a record player in the garage that his mother had left behind last time you’d been over. Annoying Haechan as you laughed together listening to a scratched up record. All of you eventually discussing some old relic’s found in a box. Jeno’s mom apparently an avid music junkie, leaving her adored collection behind for him to enjoy someday.
You head back inside the church, opening up the creaking confessional booth door. Pastor Lee’s vocals are clear on the other side of the screen. Opting to stand up, knowing this would be quick.
“What brings you into confession today my child?” He calmly asks. Too calm for your liking. Annoyance building in the back of your mind the better you get to know the pastor’s sons.
“There is something that I cannot stop dwelling over pastor..” you confidently begin, scratching the screen dividing you. “How many times have you prayed for God’s forgiveness?”
The pastor gulps, sitting up straight. Head shaking ready to disagree. “I have nothing to seek forgiveness for my child.”
“You do pastor. You told me once I’d ruin a relationship between two brothers, but.. it’s been you all along. You’ve guilted and shamed your innocent naive sons. A friend who often texts me bible quotes recently told me- Colossians 3:21 ‘Fathers, do not embitter your children, or they will become discouraged.’ Despite your hypocrisy, you will atone for your sins.”
Warnings: PhD student!Johnny, Undergrad!Reader. Loosely based off the premise of the movie/book Lolita but minus gross predatory old men. Oral (giving and receiving), footsie, & penetrative. Implied age gap, but both johnny and the reader are of age. Mentions of smoking. And strained relationship between mother and reader. Also reader is a little all over the place and emotionally inept but its fine! What they lack emotional intelligence, they make up for in wildly misplaced confidence :) Also,
*short line: ——, means a short time cut
*longer line:————————,,, means a longer time cut
*This story is meant to span about an entire semester of school
Requested
——
——
“I have no idea what I ever did to make you hate me so much!”
“Oh please,” the exhausted, exasperated voice of your mothers rings from the kitchen as you barge through the front door. Your heavy backpack lands with a thump in the middle of the entrance, and your feet stomp loudly as you try to find where she stands.
“You’re always so dramatic. I don’t hate you,” she doesn’t spare a glance up, even as you stand and glare at her from only a few feet away. She only continues to chop at her vegetables and hum quietly along to the radio at her side as you fume with anger at her side.
“Oh well you could have really fooled me.”
Ever since the moment you read her text, you had been like this. ‘A rampage’ your friends had teasingly called it, but not even a single time in the teasing did they invalidate the way you felt. Once they saw the confusion in your eyes and read through the thoughtless message your mother sent you, they were nothing but understanding. Actually, they were just about the same amount of upset as you.
At exactly 3:06 pm, right towards the tail end of your lecture that was scheduled to finish at 3:15, you received a message from the contact listed: Mother. The eye rolling emoji stuck at the end of the title mirroring the exact face you pulled when you opened the text. And that message read:
‘Hello my sweet child. I've hesitated to tell you this for far too long now and I fear that I’ve run out of time to avoid it. Later today, around an hour after you are meant to be arriving home today, we will be having a visitor. This visitor is a very lovely man named John Suh. He has been hired recently at your school as a professor and is in need of temporary accommodations. I’ve selflessly offered the spare room here for him to use, and he will be staying with us for as long as he needs. I’m unsure of how long that will be exactly, but isn’t this exciting! A new fresh face around the house hm? Maybe he’ll help bring some new life to our little family. Regardless, I’m asking you to be on your best behavior once he arrives, and I mean it. You come home, and you are expected to immediately go and clean your room. I want zero arguments from you today, and preferably at least until he leaves. You know how you can get just as much as I do, so I’m expecting better. He’s your guest as much as he will be mine. Much love. - Mommy <3’
Your nose scrunched and your lip curled when you reached the end of the long winded text, a fire lighting in your chest as you glared at the little heart she had tagged at the end.
It was all an act, the sweet tone she applied, and started to lose towards the end. She hesitated because she knew, boy did she know, exactly how you would feel. This wasn’t out of character for her, doing things that she knew would crawl under your skin, and she only ever used it as a step up on you, but inviting some strange man into your home was a new angle.
Your relationship with your mother was never exactly “good.” She was never neglectful, in the physical sense at least. You always got the food, shelter, and things you needed, but the emotions is where she fell flat.
You knew the story from your grandmother. Your mother was dumb, and in love. Let the boy’s hold on her heart spread to her mind and lapse her judgment. She fell pregnant with you young, and ever since, had held a weird grudge against you for taking what she felt was her prime years. Now instead you feel like, instead of a mother, you got a roommate that feeds you but also competes with you at any given moment. You only call her mother as a formality, your grandmother having taken the place as your source of comfort a long time ago, but she still held you under her claws everyday.
“Tell me it was a joke,” you finally spit after a beat of silence and challenging staring from your end, “you were just messing with me to get a reaction.”
“I’m not a grade school bully,” that’s what earns you a heavy glance, but with a shaking head she returns to her task, “it’s not a little prank child, now go to your room and clean before Mr. Suh gets here.”
“Mr. Suh,” you repeat with a scoff as you finally budge from your spot and move to sit on the counter you know your mother just finished wiping down, “what is he like some crusty sixty year old man? Why would you ever offer him a room here anyways? He could be some pervert or smell like old cheese for all you know! Oh but wait! I know exactly why you’d invite him. Because. You. Hate. Me.”
With every beat you leave between your words, you lean closer to her face, hoping the loaded bagel you ate for lunch earlier plagues your breath and burns her nostrils as you invade her space.
You jump back immediately when she hits the cutting board with the knife in her hand, the sharp end biting and getting stuck in wood, standing tall on its own when she lets go.
“Now listen you little brat,” her eyes are as lit up as yours now, her finger pointing at your face as she begins a rant, “you will go to your room and clean it before you get me mad for real. Mr. Suh is a good man, I’ve spoken to him myself and I promise you if you get even remotely in his way you’ll have to answer to me. He is staying here and you will show him perfect hospitality and that’s final.”
You swat her hand away, your fingers smacking against the side of her fist a bit harder than intended, but you’re standing and walking up to your room before you can even see the annoyance pull across her face.
——
You don’t clean your room. It’s not even noticeably messy minus a few water bottles and candy wrappers, but you don’t change a thing purely for the principle of the situation. Instead you paint your nails with the door that connects your room and the guest room, soon to be occupied by an unwanted guest, wide open in hopes to leave some lingering bothersome fumes and to plot where you could easily steal some of his belongings. If he had any that interested you.
It's been about an hour since you arrived home, and just as your mother promised, you hear the sound of knuckles tapping against the wood of your front door.
There’s fumbling noises that come from the kitchen as your mother scrambles for the door, and you roll your eyes hard enough to make them ache when you hear her swing the door open and greet the man with a fake sweet tone.
There’s a rumbling murmur between the two, and you stand to get closer to the door to eavesdrop just in time to hear her calling your name. You don’t like the way that hearing your name from her mouth makes your stomach turn, so you choose to ignore her.
Instead of joining them in the entrance of your home, you slip out of your room and sit to peek over the farthest edge of the stairs. It’s a place you’ve used since you were little, the layout of the second floor making the spot hidden from your mother’s view from where she stands, but let’s you see her, and whoever her guests were. It’s never failed you, and has given you a perfect place to view all the lack of action, until now.
You can see them both as always, no matter the amount of twisting and turning your mother does in her spot allowing her to see you. But you’re so caught up in the devious enjoyment you get from her struggling, that it takes you a moment to realize, for once her guest can see you.
His height is perfect for giving him the best angle to stare directly into your eyes, and the way they dance in entertainment makes your heart skip. He knows what you're doing, and he knows you’re surprised that he can see you, this only makes it more fun. For him at least.
You, on the other hand, are struggling. One, you feel betrayed by the universe for allowing someone the height required to find your hiding spot. Two, you again feel betrayed when you see what Mr. Suh looks like.
The version of him you’ve created in your head is dead. A shriveled old man with prying eyes is laid to rest in the recesses of your mind and is replaced by the man who locks your eyes onto his. His lips are full, chapped from the trip here, and curled into a slight grin. He’s much younger than you anticipated, though still visibly older than you. The button up and slacks he wears makes him look clean and mature, and he only has two decently sized suitcases at his side. He can tell you’re thrown off by his looks by the way your eyes dart around his form, but it only adds to his enjoyment.
Your mother calls your name again, and again, each time getting shriller, and you can’t help the wash of smugness you feel when you see the man flinch at her volume. Even with her sharp tone though, the calls fall on deaf ears as you find yourself purely enthralled by the man who shows no sign of wanting to look away from you.
“This kid,” you mom lets her arms fall to her side with a huff when you don’t respond, and she turns back to the man with a hungry smile, “always so busy and in their own world they are hmm? But you’re a professor no? You know how they get when they’re this age, think they’re all grown up but they have so much more to learn.”
“Yes they can be like that I suppose,” he trails off awkwardly, his words going almost ignored by your mother as she still cranes her neck to try to catch and hint of movement, “but it wasn’t too long since I was there myself so I wouldn’t say I have much room to talk.”
You want to hit yourself for the way you swoon at his voice. His quiet tone and the sleep that still tugs on his features from his trip gives him a soft rumble to his words, and the way he still looks at you when he speaks makes you feel warm. It’s almost disgusting the way your heart flutters in your chest from the attention, and right then you decide you want to give this gorgeous man nothing but trouble.
“Well I suppose it's for the best,” your mom finally turns back to him with her hands propped on her hips, and she thankfully only reads his wandering eyes as him taking in his new surroundings, “i'm not sure where they could be but maybe that means they will stay out of your way.”
“Hmm maybe,” he responds fully aware that her words are far from the truth, and he even offers a sly wink in response when you hold your finger up to your lips to shush him and gently shake your head.
“Well it's not important,” the soft smile you wore drops when she pulls his attention away from you when she grabs his arm, he himself even looking a bit disappointed at the interruption, “what is important is you getting comfortable as soon as possible, so let me show you your room.”
You take this as your cue. You jump up, and dive back into your room just in time to close both doors leading to your room as they climb the stairs. You tuck yourself under your desk just as a precaution, and you're fully settled in the corner when you hear the guest room door open and they walk in.
There’s thumps and sounds of small wheels as they drag his suitcases in, and hums of curiosity and appreciation as he surveys the room.
“You have a desk here for all the work I imagine the school has you doing,” your mother starts and you’re now able to tell she’s adopted a more flirty tone so much you almost gag, “and then your bed is in the corner over there. I know it's not a whole lot but I’m sure you can make it your own especially once you’ve unpacked.”
“It’s perfect, thank you ma’am,” he says in a way that sounds so genuine it makes your heart thump a bit, “just the right amount for me.”
“Wonderful,” she happily sighs, and you hear her feet move across the floor a bit more before she stops, “oh my, I should also warn about that door.”
You can only imagine she’s pointing at the door that you now have shut, and your assumptions are proven right when it slightly jiggles as she pushes in its lock.
“It connects this room to the bedroom next door. Unfortunately that’s the room my child uses, but luckily you can lock it so that shouldn’t be too much of a problem, but I fear there may be a few issues with noise. But if that’s ever the case, you tell me immediately and I can make sure that there’s something done about it.”
“Aw no ma’am I can't imagine it being an issue,” his heavier footsteps walk closer to the door and you find yourself holding your breath for a moment, “trust me when I get into my work I’m laser focused, nothing can disrupt me.”
“Marvelous,” her hands clap softly together to punctuate the word, “well, since that’s cleared away, I need to step out only for a moment to go run and get a few things I forgot to grab for dinner tonight. I apologize for needing to leave just as you’ve arrived, but I’m sure you can use that time to get settled?”
“Absolutely ma’am, and again thank you immensely for letting me stay here.”
“Not a problem at all Mr. Suh, you make yourself at home.”
—
It’s quiet.
Your mother going down the steps, grabbing her purse and wallet being the only hints of sound in the house. He seems to remain in one place, not moving in a way you can hear at least, until the sound of your mother closing the door behind her rings throughout the home. Then,
*click*
Your back stiffens and straightens far quicker than you would have liked when the small noise hits your eardrums, you head thumping quietly on the bottom of your desk and making a small groan leave your lips.
It’s only after the small spell of dizziness disperses do you finally crawl out from your hiding spot and tiptoe quietly over to the shared door, your legs shaky from how long you sat with them folded beneath you. Using your best spy skills, you press your ear against the dark wood once you reach it, years of analyzing the volume of your mother’s footsteps actually coming in handy to tell that he’s moved away and now stands somewhere closer to his desk, the sound of shuffling paper that follows only confirms this assumption.
The next thing you do, you’re glad you stand in your room alone. You squat for a moment, peaking one eye into the small hole in the doorknob. You’re not sure exactly what you’d be looking for, but you’re hoping you’ll gain some sudden lock science knowledge and be able to tell if the clicking truly was the door being unlocked. Otherwise you’d have to visibly and audibly mess with a locked door knob, and even the idea of him seeing you do such a thing makes you want to pack up your things and move to the other side of the globe.
With another huff, you deem the door handle usable, or you at least hope it is, and you stand to full height with your hand wrapping around the cool brass.
‘It’s just a man,’ you remind yourself, starting to develop an immense disappointment in yourself for allowing yourself to become so flustered at the idea of seeing him, ‘a man who’s life I’m going to make a living hell purely for my own entertainment.’
The second reminder is what lifts your spirits, an overly sweet grin filling your face and your eyes fluttering into a natural flirty glitter, a state of yourself that your mother has repeatedly scolded you for, but due to the fact that it sometimes comes on naturally, you’ve learned to exploit greatly.
You have the decency to fake a soft pout when you turn the handle agonizingly slow, your lashes fluttering as the door opens just wide enough to stick your head into the room.
Your assumption is immediately proven correct when you see him standing behind his desk, shuffling through papers that lie within a black leather briefcase, before his head darts up when he registers the noise you make.
You jerk back only slightly when he locks his eyes onto yours, and every fiber in your being desperately tries to push down the heat that tries to crawl up to your face and devour every butterfly that tries to develop in your belly when he places the papers down to give you his full attention with a warm smile on his handsome features.
“Well look who it is,” he sighs quietly, his words slightly muffled by a sucker he’s stuck in his jaw at some point while you were contemplating a doorknob and your still hidden legs wobble just a bit at his voice still rough from his travels, and the way his string of words make your belly swirl.
“You’re Mr. Suh?” You ask with a tilt to your head, slowly stepping into the room when his eyebrows dart up in encouragement, almost as if he’s coaxing a wild animal or a shy child.
“Um,” he glances down quickly, playfully tugging on his button up that's now opened slightly with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, before reaching up to pop the candy from his mouth, “last time I checked, but you can call me John. Or Johnny, I guess whichever.”
He laughs quietly to himself, but you don’t show interest in giving a verbal response. Instead you leave him to trail your form with his eyes as you step in and start to circle the room that, until now, had been left empty and perfect to take golden houred selfies in.
You let your fingers trace over the few things he has, his still unopened suitcases being the only things aside from the coat he left on the end of the bed, before you stand leaning against his desk across from him, a bored look taking over your features.
“Why are you in my house Mr. Suh?” You ask, breaking the awkward air of silence you let take over the room, and his smile falters at the reuse of formalities and confusing question paired with your still sweet tone, but he’s quick to hide it by clearing his throat
“I um, got a job at the college down the road?” He speaks it more as a question than a statement, clearly thrown off a bit from the unreadably heavy stare you lay on him as he talks, “your mother mentioned on the phone it’s the one you're attending right? Well, they’re allowing me some tuition relief while I study for my PhD if I teach a few intro english courses and assist in the library, you know how it is.”
He laughs again, but it stops sooner than before when he sees the look on your face is unwavering, “but why are you here,” you ask again, the nail of your index finger tapping harshly into the wood of the desk, “specifically here.”
“Um well,” he huffs quietly, his unwavering patience with you being either annoying or endearing, you haven’t decided which, “there’s some construction happening in the housing I was meant to stay at. Nothing too extensive, but it just happened so suddenly there wasn’t much they could do, but you’re mother is supposedly good friends with the dean so,”
“Good friends is one way to put it,” you mutter under your breath, causing him to stumble over his words a bit, as ‘good friends’ isn't the exact label you’d put on what your mom and the dean got up to behind closed doors.
“Excuse me?” His thick brows stitch together as he tries to catch up with the words you muttered, but you brush it off with a shake of your head, and he hesitantly begins again, “anyways, he apparently called around and you two were generous enough to let me stay here for a bit.”
“My mom,” you interject once he’s finished, the lack of explanation behind your words making his own head shake in confusion as a question ‘hm?’ leaves the back of his throat.
“It’s not ‘us two’,” you correct with your hands lifting to show air quotes, “I had no say in you staying here Mr. Suh. I didn’t even know you existed until a little over an hour ago.”
He has the decently to look apologetic, his lips curling in between his teeth as he lets out a deep sigh through his nose, “I wasn’t aware of that,” he admits, using his free hand to reach up and scratch at the back of his neck, “if I had any other option… ack regardless I can understand that this is probably an annoying situation for you, but I promise I’ll try my best to not be any trouble alright?”
His sincerity makes you feel gross, but only for a moment. Being an insufferable brat would be admittedly easier if he was rude or even a creep, but the more you turn his genuine personality around in your mind, your evil plan begins to almost rewrite itself. He may not be mean or malicious, but he’s in your space and stupidly handsome, so what would be the harm in tormenting him and entertaining yourself for however long he’ll stay.
“You can do that all you want, but I’m promising you, Mr. Suh, that I’ll try my best to do the complete opposite,” you punctuate the newly aired promise to be on your worst behavior with a grin, your tone beginning to drip with a fake sweetness that's probably more artificial than the candy in his fist.
There’s only a moment of pause before a lightbulb so bright lights above your head that you worry he might see.
You love the way he slightly jumps when you reach towards him, the confusion on his face when your hand wraps tightly around his wrist. You try to advert your attention from the way his hand looks much larger now that it’s next to yours by flicking your eyes up to lock with his, and as you watch him through your lashes, you slowly wrap your lips around the bright red sucker he holds between his finger, letting just the smallest amount of drool drip down the paper stick, before you pull it out of his hands with a grin.
The sweet flavor of cherry spreads across your tongue and you can’t help but imagine the same taste lingering on his tongue before you speak again, “enjoy your stay Mr. Suh,” you stand up straight again, turning slow with a dramatic sigh, “while you can at least. Because the next time you see me, I’ll be your living nightmare.”
Your hand swipes across his desk before you start to stride back to the door you entered through, your fingers successfully brushing two small stacks of papers fluttering onto the floor. There’s an extra spring to your step as you walk away from the sugar that now fills your mouth and the exasperated sigh the man behind you let’s out as he bends down to collect his papers, but you stutter a bit when he surprises you by speaking up again, your ego only slightly bruised from your unusual inability to get the last word.
“I doubt that,” your hand is wrapped around the knob of the door again already, and it tightens almost painfully as you turn to glare at him. His eyes are on you, and they match perfectly with the soft and amused smile he wears, “you seem like quite the handful. You, and what your mother tells me, make that perfectly clear. But the image of you all cute and mischievous up there in your little hiding spot is always going to be my first impression of you, you know that right?”
Your eyebrows furrow tighter, as well as the grip your hand has on the doorknob, as you turn to glare at him, and it’s not long before it morphs into a petulant scowl, “and so what? I was only having fun because I was pissing off my mother. You’ll learn soon that I’m rather seasoned in that department.”
“I don’t doubt that,” he sounds almost impressed when the words leave his lips, his eyes only shifting away from you for a moment to place his newly organized paper down in front of him, “she’s a bit of a shrill one isn't she? But hell, she’s giving a place to stay so I’d say it’s more in my best interest to keep my thoughts to myself. Anyways, I’m sure with time I’ll break through that feisty shell you’re wearing, even if it looks adorable on you. You’ll warm up to me, and that’s my promise.”
You don’t see the wink he throws at you when he finishes speaking. Well, you do, but you’d rather eat glue than admit that to yourself or anyone ever. Instead you roll your eyes dramatically and hard, taking the dull ache it causes in the sockets of your eyes gladly, before muttering a weak ‘whatever’ and ducking back into your room with your tail on slightly tucked between your legs.
Once you’re back to the safety of your own room, the door slams loudly behind you and you're faced with the task of ignoring the way the sincerity in his voice and the memory of his use of the words ‘cute’ and ‘adorable’ made your chest tighten. The fear of losing your grip and ending up actually liking him, and not just his stupidly handsome face, was already present from your little moment at first sight. You can only hope him claiming it would happen so confidently would jinx it, and the universe would be on your side.
———————————————————————————
“Do you think I’m pretty?”
Mr. Suh loudly coughs from his seat across from you, as the question left your lips right as he took a long sip of his water as well as it being the first words you’ve spoken to him in the last few days. The silence that had existed between you two for the past half hour that you had been seated across one another had given him a false sense of security that you were still a little burned from your first reaction and had no interest in speaking to him, but if there was something you really loved, it was pouncing when someone had their guard down.
The night he arrived, you were quick to leave to crash at your best friend's apartment for a few nights. It was completely personal at first, not really having any interest watching your mom drool over the man that lit you up hotter than any fire, so you ran off without a word, but then you ended up having so much fun with your friend that you lost track of time and just forgot to show back up.
That was until you got a heated text from your mom threatening to cut off your phone if you didn’t attend her “famous” spaghetti family dinner night and now here you sit. A now dead cell phone tucked between your seat and your thigh, and perfectly ripe man to bite into and play with sitting oblivious across from you.
Your mom still loudly clatters in the kitchen, mixing together her bland homemade sauce as Johnny tries to catch his breath, his pretty eyes darting up to you in confusion as your blank look makes him start to question if you really did just ask him such a question.
“Pardon?” He questions with his voice still rough and watery, but the only explanation he gets from you is a dramatic eye roll and an expectant shake of your head as you know he heard you perfectly loud and clear, “do I think you're pretty?”
“That's what I asked,” you offer him a bratty smile as you start to pick at your peeling nail polish and tap your toes against the tiled floor, and you try to not let it falter when he returns a similar grin.
“You don’t really seem like the type to need that type of reassurance,” he admits with a shrug to his shoulders, and you begin to chew on your bottom lip when he reclines as well as he can in the tacky dining room chairs.
“I didn’t say it's for reassurance,” you correct with a click of your tongue, “I fully subscribe to the idea that I’m the most gorgeous creature that’s ever walked this earth, I’m just asking for your opinion.”
“Well in my opinion,” he leans forward again as he speaks, his beautifully large hand reaching to brush against the back of your own as it rests palm down on the table, “I’d have to agree.”
“What are we agreeing to?” your mother’s voice breaks the tension Johnny had created between you as she enters the room with a large bowl of pasta and makes Johnny jerk away. And it’s with a confusing combination of pride and annoyance, your amazing perception allows you to recognize the flash of disappointment on the man’s face and the slight air of nosy jealousy that coats your mother’s words. And for once the appearance of your mother isn’t enough to wipe the giddy little smile the interaction had stitched onto your lips.
“Nothing,” you start to mutter in slight annoyance, but Johnny is quicker at saving face and interrupts.
“Just that we’re both starving isn't that right?” he grins in your direction, and it’s a grin that’s warm and sincere aside from the dancing playfulness in his eyes, but it’s this that finally tugs the corners of your lips down and into a frown, “it just looks as delicious as it smells.”
You don’t try much to hide the way your eyes roll at his words, especially when his eyebrow twitches up in enjoyment from your annoyance.
He and your mom fall into conversation quickly, your mother not so discreetly choosing topics that leave you out of the loop and makes you wonder why she was so adamant about you showing up tonight. All you can do is twirl the pile of noodles around your fork as you know the amount of salt and lack of garlic in the sauce is nauseating, and playfully pout and pull faces at Mr. Suh every time he glances in your direction to make him have to stifle a laugh while he throws you a sympathetic look.
“So how’s your studies going along John?” your mother questions, putting emphasis on the shortening of his name as she’s picked up on your continued use of formalities with the man but not the teasing reasons behind the choice, “you said you were working on some…. novel of some sort?”
“Ah I wouldn’t say novel at this stage,” the just slightly bashful laugh he lets out is loud enough that it covers the scoff you let out, but the turn of conversation only works to annoy you into doing the first thing that pops into your mind.
“Right now it’s just a very lengthy research paper,” he clears his throat, and you feign interest in his words to not draw attention to the way you scoot closer to the table. He takes a moment to pause and collect his thoughts, more than aware of any little movement you make around him, and you take the moment to search for the leg of his pants with your bare toes. You're impressed by his poker face, as when you find it, and begin to trail your foot up past his knee, he manages to look like nothing is happening at all.
“Um, I still have a lot to collect and I oh um,” he starts to crack and stutter a bit when your toes dig into the clothed flesh of his inner thigh, the size of the muscles that build his thighs being something you’d rather die than admit has become a main role in the way you fantasize about the man, “but yes it’s coming along nicely, just maybe more than I anticipated.”
“Yes but isn’t that the fun, keeps you busy and on your toes and all,” you mother’s words play too perfectly into what she’s unaware of is happening beneath her table, and when his rough grip wraps around your ankle when you start to press against the bulge forming in his pants, you know he can’t help but agree when he shows zero intention in pushing you away.
“I suppose that’s one way of looking at it,” his voice is just enough strained now for you to notice, and you add to it by starting to wiggle in his hold and drag the bottom of your foot up and down the length of him. It takes more self control than you’d like to not gasp quietly at what you feel, the size of him making your chest warm and your thighs tense.
He notices your reaction though, even if it’s just in the way your face shifts, and you see in his eyes that he’s taken the upper hand as his own. His hand moves now to brush against the top of your foot, and even begins to guide your movement to really feel the entire length and size of him, and with a gnawing worry you wonder if there’s any way he’s not fully hard beneath your touch.
And with an even more gnawing impatience, you have to stop yourself from shoving your hand down to relieve the sudden warmth that’s growing between your thighs.
“Oh John,” your mother interrupts again, making you jump slightly, but his hold on you keeps you from halting your movements even the slightest, “you’re looking a little flushed, are you feeling well?”
“Ah yes,” he nods quickly as he turns to look at her. The flush of jealousy in your chest pisses you off more than you’d ever like, and with a petulant huff you arch your foot and press the front of it harshly into the dampening fabric over the tip of him to force a rough groan from his throat, “maybe it’s just the mention of work you know, just my body thinking it’s time to be stressed.”
You admit you're impressed at his quick thinking, and you're more than thrilled at the way his hips jump towards you and his neck turns red.
“Here let me get you some more water, you’re almost out as it is,” your mother stands without a response, but regardless Johnny looks slightly relieved at the idea of her leaving the room even for a moment so he just nods and hands her his glass with a surprisingly genuine ‘thank you.’
Once you know your mother is out of ear shot, his eyes close tightly and his head tilts back to allow himself to feel the stimulation without distraction. His neck stretching out causes your saliva to pool slightly in your mouth, and the feeling of his hips shifting forward and up into your touch makes you feel like the room has gotten at least five degrees warmer. It’s all of him combined that makes it kill you a little to do what you do next, with the way his veins begin to pop and his slightly parted lips makes you aware of how damp the space between your thighs had gotten and the idea of making him cum so easily making you feel like a god, but right as he starts to pant and scrape his blunt nails across your ankle, you dig and curl your fingers against the edge of the table, and tug your foot away abruptly to bring it up to rest in your seat.
His eyes are wild when they open and find you smiling like nothing has happened. You tilt your head innocently when he throws you a hard glare, and you want to scream in triumph when you see his face soften almost immediately at the sight of your pouting lips. He’s so twitchy in his seat that you think that this is what it must feel like to win the lottery, and with a pissy grunt he reaches quickly under his belt to adjust the problem you’ve created.
“Are you sure you’re okay Mr. Suh?” you ask before leaning forward and copying the action of laying your smaller hand across the back of his that presses stiffly into the top of the table, “your face is getting redder and you’re looking a little warm. Do you think you’re coming down with a fever?”
“So you’re sticking to your promise?” he clears his throat again, sitting up slowly as if he’s in pain and you poorly conceal your grin with faux sincerity in your eyes, “just when I had thought I won you over.”
“I’m not someone who breaks promises, Mr. Suh,” you pat his hand a few more times before leaning away at the sound of your mother shuffling back towards you, “but I’ll be sure you break yours.”
——
For days that you have later classes, you like to stay up later working on whatever needs working on, and then wake up later in the day. You consider it a special treat you allow yourself when you’re not ridiculously busy because there’s something wonderful about sleeping in late, is there not?
When you’re allowed to.
Instead of the soft bird noises of your alarm that usually rouse you from your slumber, you’re awoken from your dreams of puppy dogs and glittery wine by a rough hand on your shoulder and harsh whispers of your name.
Your mother shakes you, and shoves your blankets from your body in the process, and regardless of the way your eyes snap open in shock, she doesn’t stop her assault until you start to swat her away.
“Get up child,” she whispers rudely as you start to sit up. You have enough awareness to glance at the door of your room that you swore you locked before falling asleep, only to come to the conclusion that she snuck through Mr. Suh’s room to get to you, ”you think you can run off for a few days without saying anything and I wont do anything? I said get up.”
Your leg kicks out towards her when she swats at the back of your thighs and you unfortunately, or fortunately you’re not sure which, only brushes her hip as she walks to the other door.
“I made breakfast, not for you,” she shoots daggers at you through her eyes as she starts to open the door and step into the hall, “but for Mr. Suh. Now I’m trying to clean the kitchen up, so you come down and get his tray and take it to him before it gets cold.”
You take your time, grumbling and huffing and whining with every unnecessary move you make, and once you’ve picked the perfect pajama shorts for the morning, you grace the rest of your home with your presence.
The metal tray that holds his food is colder than you’d like to feel so early, but the food and coffee that rests on it is still hot and your surprised you don’t trip and tumble down the stairs from the way it hypnotizes you.
Your mother was never a professional chef, her spaghetti that still sits like a rock in your belly regardless of how little of it you ate is more than proof of that, but if there was one thing even she could mess up, it was breakfast.
Admittedly it was only fried eggs, bacon, and toast, but as you bump the door of his room open with your hip, you almost want to claw his eyes out in jealousy that he gets to enjoy the food and you don’t.
“Breakfast is served, my liege,” you speak sarcastically, dropping the tray directly in front of him and on top of whatever papers he was leafing through, before you lean your hips against the lip of the desk opposite of him, “it’s not five star meal, but I’d fight you for it if i'm being honest.”
He took the time you spent rambling to tug the papers out from under the tray, quickly flipping through them to check for whatever, before he looks up at you with a disturbingly genuine smile, “well if there’s one thing I can trust you to do is be honest isn't it?”
“I only lie if it's to get myself out of trouble Mr. Suh, otherwise what’s the point of beating around the bush y’know,” you shrug turning your head to try to discreetly check out his now more lived-in room, before you turn back to lean over and eye his food.
“I suppose you have a point,” his tone doesn’t match his words, as he slowly trails off in a way that tells you he’s not really in the position to get into any trouble to lie about anymore, “but anyways, I’m more of just a coffee guy in the morning, no one was stopping you from taking your share.”
“The wrath of my mother watching me be like a hawk on my way up here was stopping me a little,” you nod with a pout, “and either way, you are the guest I could never take from you like that.”
“God, they can probably hear how sarcastic you’re being from down the street,” he playfully scoffs, and it’s only after a split second of a lapse of judgement do you realize you're smiling as well, and you quickly drop your face in an attempt to hide it.
“Aren’t you supposed to be working?” you ask with a snottier tone than was probably necessary, and the confused look he wears and a gesture towards the papers around him makes you huff and stomp quietly, “I mean at the school. You said you were teaching or working in the library or whatever.”
“You remembered that?” he rhetorically asks as he leans forward to pinch at the soft skin of your wrist, laughing quietly to himself when you jerked away in irritation, “I just assumed you wanted to tell me your little promise to be a terror so bad that you just heard white noise the whole time I was talking.”
“I can listen Mr. Suh,” you defend yourself immediately, ready to list about a hundred examples if he dared to question you.
“Ah so you’re saying you can listen to what you’re told,” his voice drops slightly, his eyes forcing yours into locked contact so you don’t miss an ounce of how suggestive he’s meaning to be. Regardless of the activities that happened last night, and how they ended, you cant help the way your chest burns and your heart begins to thud at how cocky he could be so early in the morning.
The door to his office opens silently enough to go unnoticed, but the sound of your mother sharply clearing her throat makes you jump and straighten up. Your hands immediately lace together behind your back and a faux sickeningly sweet grin pulls against your lips. Your chest roars in pride when you see his eyes harden just slightly, whether it be from anger in being interrupted or enjoyment in how immediately obedient you just proved you can be, but now you really didn’t care.
“Now,” your mother starts, her eyes tight and dancing with a competitiveness that makes you roll your eyes, “you know better than to be bother Mr. Suh. I told you to bring him his breakfast, nothing more nothing less”
“I wasn’t bothering,” you start to defend with a whine, but Johnny beats you to it.
“It’s not bothering,” he corrects, his back also straightening as he goes to pick at the previously ignored food placed in front of him, “just having a conversation about school.”
“Last time I checked you weren’t in any of Mr. Suh’s classes are you?” her tone is cutting into you in a way that tells you she wants you out of the room, and she wants you out now.
“I’m not,” you confirm, your smile growing more taunting as you shrug and move to sit on the corner of his desk, “but he’s still a professor and I’m a student so…”
“Along with a few questions about the stock at the library,” he interrupts again, tossing out another white lie to cover you, “but I’m glad you’re here so I can thank you for the breakfast ma’am.”
His final words and the way he begins shuffling through his things to make more space to eat is a sign the conversation is over, and the way you lean back onto your hands and start to kick your feet tells her you have no intent on leaving, especially not since the ‘ma’am’ he tacked onto the end felt almost like he was personally handing you a cookie with a pat on the head.
There’s a silent battle between you and your mother as Johnny starts to organize his plate, your mother’s eyes dancing over you in disappointment and unhealthy jealousy. But you only grin and wiggle your fingers in a childish wave in response.
“Well anyhow,” she huffs, finally accepting her silent defeat as she moves over to the door to leave, “I have a few bills to pay and then I have to run out to run a few errands so have a nice day John.”
He simply nods in response, a gentlemanly smile tugging on the edges of his curled lips as he’s oblivious to the sharp glare she shoots at you along with the emphasis she once again places on her use of his name.
“And you,” she adds right before she closes the door, her finger pointing accusingly towards you, “don’t be bothering him all day, he has important work to do and I know for a fact that you have at least one class and homework.”
You scoff after the door clicks shut, your eyes rolling petulantly as you shift onto your hips to look at him over your shoulder. You wait only a moment for him to lift his cup of coffee to his lips before you speak again.
“She wants to fuck you y’know,” you say bluntly, a amused puff of air escaping you when the drink splashes over the edge of the mug as he chokes at your words.
You lift your feet as he tries to catch his breath, your heels digging into the wood of his desk as you turn yourself to face him and scoot until your legs hang over the side next to his chair.
With a rattling cough, he looks back to you, his eyes hardening with a disappointment only a teacher could hold, “don’t start,” he warns.
“Oh come on,” you whine, moving your foot to dig your toes into his side. A giggle bubbles out of you when he swats at your ankle, but it does nothing to deter you, “you know I’m right, and I should know. I can always tell when she wants to jump someone’s bones.”
“Is that so,” his tone is bored, but still slightly strained from the coffee in his windpipe. You can tell he doesn’t want to have the conversation but you can’t help but keep antagonizing him, and you can also tell there’s a slight enjoyment he gets from your suddenly hyper mood.
“Yeah, she gets real lonely. Plus, she kind of has a thing for men she shouldn’t have,” you sigh, partially for the dramatics, but also because you feel somewhat called out by your own words, as you too wouldn’t turn down a night with the man picking at food next to you, “yeah she was fucking Mr. Peters next door for so long, but that went down the drain about a month ago.”
“Is that so?” he asks to humor you as he begins to chew on one of the pieces of toast on his tray, “what made them stop?”
“His wife shot him after she found out,” you say nonchalantly, as the shock of the event had worn off already, “and it’s kind of hard to fuck someone once their six feet under.”
“That’s not funny.”
“It wasn’t a joke,” you counter with a quick scowl as you hop off the desk to stand, “but anyways I don’t really blame her.”
“Who the wife?” he asks, his eyes wary as he notices you start to move closer to his side, “I can’t really say I blame her either.”
“No not Mrs. Peters,” you shake your head gently as you bend to put your face close to his, the breath of air he lets out at the proximity making you smile and giving you one last push to lay all your cards out on the table, “my mom.”
“What are you on about,” his voice deadpan for the most part, but you eat up the slight shake of his voice like candy.
“I mean,” you turn your head long enough to pick the bacon off his plate, your teeth breaking off a small piece of one strip as you turn to look at him again, “I can’t really say she’s the only one who’d fuck you given the opportunity.”
You give him no chance to respond before you’re straightening up again, but he doesn’t seem to be able to collect his thoughts and create a rebuttal quick enough as you start to walk out of the room.
“Have a good day Mr. Suh,” you throw over your shoulder with a dazzling smile, and right before the door shuts behind you, you add, “and thanks for the bacon!”
And in a courageous act of kindness, your decide to not to re enter to room to taunt him for the deep groan he lets out, loud enough to be heard through the thick wood of the door, and instead you skip off to your own room with part of his breakfast between your fingers, and a win mentally ticked on your side of the board.
———————————————————————————
“So run this by me again,” your friend waves her hands around in front of her as she tries to catch back up with your rapid pace, her eyes squinted and confused, “you’ve been doing what now to get his attention?”
“Cracking the door between our rooms open and masturbating,” you answer as casually as you would have if she had asked you a question off a test review, and it’s enough that you know it makes her blood pressure jump.
“Okay,” she huffs, her brain almost audibly turning as she tries to come up with a response as you two walk through the library doors, “and why the fuck would you do that?”
This question is the one that finally gets you to stop, a small thoughtful but disappointed pout pulling on your features as you form a thought that, at least to you, makes perfect sense,
“I want him to dream about me.”
“You want him to what now?” you stare blankly over her shoulder as you still turn your own words over in your mind, but every time you try to think of something else, you just fall back to the original statement making the most sense.
“Well, you know,” you shrug, your hands twirling in front of you as you think, and the look on the face of the girl in front of you tells you she, in fact, does not know, “I torment him all day. A lot too. Like my mom, for whatever reason, still makes me take him breakfast even though I know she has a thing for him and whenever I’m with him I know it pisses her off.”
“That's weird.”
“Yeah I know,” you grumble and roll your eyes before continuing, “I think she’s like hoping if she sends me up there enough that he’ll get annoyed with me and hate me, but that’s not happening. Trust me I’ve tried.”
“But anyways,” your eyes scrunch and you shake your head for a second, getting you mind back on track to the original conversation, “I also take some of his shirts here and there, and wear them when it’s just us in the house. And I’ll play my music too loud, I go into his room to ask stupid questions. Sometimes I bother him at dinner, you know like the way I did that first night,”
Your reminding her of that night pulls a groan from her chest as the first time you told her of the incident, which was immediately after it happened, she has expressed how reckless she thought it was and how you ‘might not know what you’re getting into.’
“I also just steal random stuff sometimes just to piss him off, but he just knows I have them now so that’s not super fun. And for awhile my thing was writing little love notes on his papers that looked semi important, but eventually…. I don’t know I needed something else. Something that I knew for sure would have me on his mind twenty-four seven.”
“You’re ridiculous you know that?” her arms cross tightly in front of her chest and her bottom lip finds its way tucked harshly between her teeth as she glances at the space around you two, “I just don’t get you sometimes and I mean that in the nicest way possible. Like you genuinely fascinate me sometimes.”
“Listen I wouldn’t do it if I thought it would make him uncomfortable,” you start walking again, your arms mirroring hers as they fold across your chest as well, “but I know it doesn’t, and I personally find it pretty hot, so might as well right?”
—
It started about three weeks after the breakfast conversation and thievery, and at first it was an accident.
You had done another one of your little stunts. Stealing one of the poetry books off his desk while he was on campus and you were at home, and while it was initially just to mess with him, you’d be lying to say that some of the poems the book held didn’t make your heart flutter in your chest. Especially the ones he had either dog eared or marked with a blue colored tab.
But when he got home, and saw it was missing, it was just a usual song and dance of him peeking his head into your room and telling you that you could return his property whenever you seemed fit, but the twitch of his brow told you it was an important book, so you returned it pretty quickly. But not without another one of your pointless conversations just so you could have his attention on you for however much time he had before he really needed to work.
And you thought that you closed the door all the way.
You curse your mother for investing in whatever it was that made the doors of your home open and close with very minimal noise. You thought it had closed all the way, you genuinely did, and you had no reason to double back and make sure it had. So you got ready for bed, co-existed in your respective rooms, as you were completely unaware that every movement you made was suspiciously easier to hear than usual.
At the end of the day, you blame twitter. Twitter with all it’s horny user base and lack of content control. Maybe the video one of the more racier accounts you followed just happened to post a video that featured a couple that looked more like you and Mr. Suh than you’d like to admit, but even if they didn’t resemble you two, it was still hot and you just couldn't help yourself if you wanted.
You had barely gotten started. The volume of your phone only about halfway up as you watched the amazingly built man fuck the person beneath him like it was the last thing he’d ever do, your breathing heated and slowed as you trailed your hand down your belly as you shamefully imagined the man in the other room was doing it rather than yourself.
You didn’t think you were loud, but the distance from your room and your mother’s admittedly did probably give you the ability to be a little louder than completely silent. And when you go so long with no one around to hear, it makes sense that you’d get just a little carried away and forget about the man next door.
You were reminded of him quickly when the video ended.
You curse twitter for their video limit of only two minutes and twenty seconds, the video you were drooling over ending much sooner than you’d like, but at that point a fantasy of Mr. Suh grabbing your hips and shoving your face down into your sheets to force you to grind against the prominent bulge in his nice slacks while he makes you beg for him to fuck you stupid was being fully realized in your mind. And your eager fingers were pushing down into your pajama shorts to coat them in the arousal you could feel making a mess in your underwear.
You had just started rolling your middle and ring fingers against your clit, and you hand had just found its way shoved under your shirt to grope at your chest, your mind desperately trying to feel it as the larger and more callused fingers that you’ve only gotten the pleasure of feeling wrapped around your ankle and wrist, and patting the back of your hand.
You’re sure you let out a whimper or two, maybe even a huff and pathetic whine, but you were more than oblivious. Your mind was worlds away forming false memories of him shoving finger after finger slowly inside of you, stretching you gently for the impressive size of him that you’ve only gotten to gauge by what you feel when you tease him under the table or when he occasionally wears a pair of grey sweatpants on the weekends.
When it first happened, you thought maybe you were just so deep into your own little world that you had imagined it. A deep rattling groan happening perfectly at the same time as you imagining him whispering filthy praises to you for taking him so well.
It was only when he groaned your name rather than the sweet but degrading pet name that you had picked for your fantasy, did you come back to reality.
You shot up straight, like you had become suddenly possessed. Your hands were still pushed under your clothes, and your body was hot and begging for the release that you personally just ripped away from, but your mind was spinning a million miles a minute as you strain to hear it just one more time. Just once to prove that your imagination wasn’t that wild.
You didn’t have to wait long, a quiet grunt followed by a harsh swear was all the proof you needed. Your eyes darted to the door when it happened, and that’s when you noticed it was just slightly opened.
Everything suddenly became much louder, the white noise of the universe roaring in your ears as you pant and squirm at the noises coming from his pouty full lips and the soft rhythmic wet noise you now hear coming from him as well.
You can’t even begin to imagine how he looks with his fist wrapped around himself. You had never seen him in less than a tshirt and sweatpants, but you’d be completely oblivious to not notice how sturdy and well built he was beneath the fabric. And while you’ve never gotten to see the size of him with your own eyes, you knew from what you’d feel on the dinner nights you were, for one actually present, but also feeling feisty enough to see how much he could take from underneath the table and directly in front of your prying mother.
You’d also never gotten the pleasure of seeing him come. You always pushed him further and further to the edge every time you played your little game of cat and mouse, but you’re not ashamed to admit that you’d rather the first time you make him come to not be from footsie under a dining room table.
Another groan of your name and a quiet sigh of encouraging words breaks you from your rambling thoughts and it hits you like a brick that you are, regardless of not being able to see him from where you lie, mastubating with and for the very man of your dreams.
You fall back with a huff, your hand slowly creeping back to collect your arousal as you close your eyes and try to focus on the noises coming through the space in the door. You can tell he’s becoming a little antsy from your lack of response from the noises he makes but he’s almost immediately reassured when your fingers brush your soaked skin and you let out your own whimpered out call of his name.
You were already a bit close from before you were aware of your audience, but it had subsided in your time of confusion and realization. But you could tell from his groans and panting breaths, and the borderline growls he’d let out alongside your name, that he was only getting closer and closer, and you wanted to be right on that edge with him.
Your fingers were quick, rolling your sensitive clit beneath your fingers again while you pinched and pulled at your own chest and nipples. The noises you let out became just slightly louder than usual now that you know you have an audience, and they mix with the noises he happily makes for you.
You don’t think when you whimper out his name, formalities and all just like usual, but it’s met with great praise when he swears loudly and tells you with a strained voice not to tease him.
This added communication lights a fire under you. Something about him speaking to you directly, aside from just groaning your name and other vulgar comments he was making without thinking, made everything feel much more real, and it did nothing but make you want to tease the hell out of him.
It was happening. There was no denying that. You were into it, he was into it. There was absolutely no reason to not have some fun, aside from him telling you directly not to but whatever.
“Mr. Suh,” you draw out, pitching your voice to be airy and almost pathetic, the frustrated hum that follows telling you he hears you, but it’s also absolutely killing him, “mmmm I need to come so bad.”
You whisper it so casually, that your own audacity makes your chest and cheeks burn. You’re grateful that he can’t see the way the words make you struggle a bit after you say them, but the closer you inch to getting to finish doesn’t allow you to dwell on it for too long.
“You can come,” he says in the same encouraging tone he used when you asked him to look over a paper once, the same reassurance and confidence he had when he told you you seemed like a bright and talented student making your thighs start to tremble and your toes curl, “you can come as much as you want for me.”
There’s no way he doesn’t hear the way you loudly gasp at his words, or the desperate whining the slips from the back of your throat when your fingers speed up in the responses and the muscles of your stomach start to spasm and tense.
Your nails dig into the skin of your sternum when he continues to coo and encourage you closer and closer, his own voice becoming noticeably strained though as he follows not far behind.
“Are you about to come?”
You can only muster to respond in swears in your voice that’s become much rougher since you first started messing around, and you can tell he’s becoming disappointed in the lack of response when he speaks again.
“I’m letting you come,” he follows the reminder with a stern spit of your name, and such blatant acknowledgment makes your thighs clamp tightly around your shaking wrist, “the least you can do is answer me.”
“Fuck, yes,” you finally groan out when the last bites of electricity shoot up your spine, “yes, yes I am, please please please.”
“No ones stopping you,” he reminds you again, the quiet creaking of his bed adding to the noises that crawl in from under your door and fueling the wild images that your imagination paints in your mind to push you over your edge even more, “I just want to hear you loud and clear when you do. You sound like heaven to me.”
He groans the confession so genuinely and with such a winded tone, you can’t help but give him exactly what he’s asked for.
Your back arches harshly up towards your ceiling, your head tilting back to push into your pillow, and beads of sweat quickly travel down the center of your back and down the dip in the center of your chest in tandem, almost as if they're racing to the death.
Your moans and calls of his name spill from you over and over like a mantra as your eyes and thighs both close tightly enough to make your head and muscles ache, and you twist in on yourself until you’re rolling over to your side as you try to keep your fingers moving enough to push through the whole thing.
Your vision is slightly blurred when you calm down just slightly, and you're gaining enough awareness just in time to hear the orgasm he has that was triggered by you. You never thought such a usually calm man could speak so vulgarly for you to hear, but as you imagine the way his face twists and his hips jerk towards his own touch, he speaks swear after swear in a voice so rough and gravely that you could almost mistake it for a stranger.
You think for just a second that you could probably get off again just on these sounds he makes alone, especially the way he seethes your name through clenched teeth like he’s damning a god. You would think in any other situation, hearing him speak like that, that you were in trouble with him. But the way he huffs in relief after a beat of a second, and starts to scrape around in his things for something to clean himself up, reminds you that anger is probably the last emotion he feels, towards you at least.
After the dust is settles though, you feel frozen.
It shouldn’t hit you as hard, considering you’ve done sexual things with the man before and the fact that those other things required you two to be face to face. You expected there to be more of a detachment from something that you weren’t even able to experience visually, but you feel like an angry bird has taken the place of your heart and the only emotion that there’s space for in your brain at the moment is confusion.
You wait, sitting in almost dead silence for a moment, before you hear him stand and with your hyper aware ears strain to listen to every step he takes across the surface area of his room. And it’s not until you hear a quiet scratching and the beginnings of the soft jazz record he’s put on, do you feel like you can fully breathe.
You wait another moment before you scamper out of your room and duck into the bathroom that sits across the hall, the idea of running into him now having you bouncing as you try to sprint as quietly as you can.
You take your time in the bathroom, giving yourself a solid look over and pacing around as you let the recent events play over and over, and over, in your mind. A pep talk of some sort brewing in your brain as you stop again to stare at yourself in the mirror over the sink.
You didn’t love the idea of him getting the upper hand, you don’t love it now and you don’t love it every time it happens when you mess with him under the table. You say you don’t love it, then why do you keep letting it happen?
Your face scrunched up, and it almost starts feeling like you're negotiating with someone you’ve known your whole life but also just met seconds ago. You know every last thought that passes through your mind is a bit dramatic, but you let it happen anyways.
Acting like that wasn’t the hardest you’ve came in a long time would be a lie, your body and mind both know this, especially your still trembling thighs. You can’t act that every word that left his mouth didn’t fill every space under your skin and you definitely can’t act like the knowing that you could make him come just by the sound of your voice didn’t make you feel like you were floating on air.
You did that. You started it, and you definitely were the one to finish it, so maybe you really did have the upper hand in the end.
You feel almost like you were experiencing your villain origin story at that exact moment as you watch the devious smile creep it’s way onto your face, but it was impossible to suppress as you twist the circumstances until you can hold them like a prize given to you to follow through with your promise to absolutely make his life hell.
You do hesitate one last time though, when you press your ear to the bathroom door, waiting for any little noise that would indicate him waiting outside. And it’s when you deem it safe enough to return, you sprint back to the familiar space of your room. Not because you were still hiding from him, but just because you want to get back into your warm bed. That’s what you tell yourself at least.
It gets a little harder to hold the pride in your shoulders and the deviant glint that you know is dancing in your eyes when you see what waits for you when you enter.
Nothing seems out of place, not at first glance at least, but there is an air that something has changed in your longer than necessary absence. It’s not until you start to creep slowly over to your own bed do you finally find the added decor, and your lip finds itself tucked between your nibbling teeth.
It’s from the same stack of light blue sticky notes that he keeps at the front of his desk, the ones you see every time you enter and the ones you like to steal form whenever you want to leave him a taunting note or ridiculous doodle. But for once it’s odd to see one actually written on in the man’s handwriting.
You snatch it quickly, and curling your legs underneath you as you crawl back into bed before laying down on your side and pulling the small piece of paper close to your face to read.
His handwriting is nicer and cleaner than you’d ever credit him for, especially considering you can only assume he wanted to be quick to write it before you returned and possibly caught him placing it on your pillow.
You can’t imagine what it actually says, your eyes dancing around it as you try to wrap your mind around him leaving you a note and you try to block out what any of the letters spell out before you finally bite the bullet and skim it with your eyes again and again.
‘I left a glass of water on your nightstand. I hope that’s fine, and I hope you get enough rest.
Mr. Suh’
You grit your teeth once the words fully sink it, and it’s both exactly what you’d expect to read on a note like this but also somehow the complete opposite.
You glance over and see, he did in fact leave you a glass of water, and with worms of confusion returning to the pit of your stomach, you drink down about half of the liquid to drown them before you shove the note quickly into a jewelry box that also rests on your nightstand, and curl up to fall into a restless sleep.
The view of the door still just slightly agape, the last thing you see before your eyes become too heavy to hold open anymore. ——
“I don’t know,” your friend had always been the more hesitant of you two, and on more than one occasion the voice of reason, “I mean, is that it? Just getting off through a door? Is that like, the only way you’re interacting with him directly?”
“Oh god no,” you’ve started to walk again, your voice unknowingly dropping more to a whisper as you get closer and closer to the reason you walked into the library in the first place, “like I said there’s the whole messing with him at dinner, but that’s more just me having fun and trying to see if I can make him break in front of my mom.”
“That’s so evil,” she shakes her head, pausing a moment before asking, “but that’s it right?”
“Well…,” you’re not sure why you hesitate with telling her more, but you do. Maybe, and only maybe, you still want the situation to seem like it’s fully in your control, but the rest of the story could definitely put a ripple in your game.
“Well what? What are you doing to that poor man?”
“Well sometimes…,” you abuse your bottom lip with your teeth, your brain running laps in your head as it comes to terms with the idea that, if you’re going to be vulnerable to anyone, the girl that’s interrogating you is definitely the easiest, “I only do it when my mom’s at the grocery store or just running errands or something.”
“Are you two fucking or something,” she says with a gasp, seeming only one notch of dramatics away from clutching her pearls, “your mom is a really fast shopper, I remember when we’d go with her to try to get her to buy us snacks in high school. That woman treats shopping like she’s got Jason Voorhees himself on her ass.”
“No we’re not fucking,” not yet, you choose not to add, “it’s more embarrassing than that.”
“I can’t imagine anything that could embarrass a monster like you.”
“Well maybe you should invest in a more vivid imagination,” you spit sarcastically before huffing and deciding to just rip the bandaid, “but sometimes when she’s out, and I’m really really bored…. I like to go to his room and talk about poetry.”
All your words come out in a rush, but you know she heard every word when her eyes light up and her hand darts out to grab your elbow just slightly too tight.
“You two talk about poetry!?” she yelps, drawing a few glances from passing students.
“Shut up oh my god,” you grab the hand that holds onto you, and rip your arm from her grip, before winding your arms around her elbow and pulling her arm to your chest, “but yeah. I mean we talk about other stuff, like school and what’s happening in the world. Normal stuff you know and sometimes I get him to help with my homework, but yeah… poetry.”
“Well, isn’t that so cute! And god and he sounds so mature and sexy,” she teases, her teeth reminding you of a hungry shark the way she smiles at you with malicious glee, “it also sounds like you’re getting a little soft for this guy, you know the guy you were supposed to be torturing this whole time.”
“Hey I uh, well,” you stutter, a fire lighting in your belly at such an accusation, as well as the man in question being now in your current line of sight, “I find ways to tease him and stuff. Like brush his hand or his side or just any excuse to touch him when he's looking over my work. I also tricked him into letting me put his finger in my mouth by asking if I could taste this sour candy he was eating one day.”
“Okay dude, you need to stop lying to yourself,” she huffs, shaking her head as if she’s finally getting over teasing you as instead now saying what she really wants to, “you keep going on and on about how this is all to make his life hell, but admit it. This is your own little fucked up method to seduce him.”
“Excuse me,” you try to pull the most offended face possible, but you know it doesn’t fit right on your features, why doesn’t it fit right?
“Listen I’ll admit it, the sexual stuff is fun, I mean what’s not to be fun about that, but I do have an end goal I swear.”
“And that is exactly?” she sounds confused, concerned, and judgmental all with four words and you don’t like how it makes your palms sweat.
“I do get on his nerves, a lot actually,” the look he throws you when you know you’ve pushed one of his buttons just a little too much flashes in your mind, and you can’t help the bratty little smile it puts on your face, “and it’s just until his housing situation with the school is figured out, but I want him leaving the house not enjoying a second of it.”
“Yeah and him getting you to rub on him and make him come in the middle of the night is the most miserable experience,” her eyes roll so hard that you're surprised they don’t fall out of her skull, “ come on dude.”
“Okay I’m sensing a lot of doubt and even some hostility here,” you toss your hands between the both of you before you untwine yourself from her hold, “but if you want to see him annoyed then get ready. Trust me, our little games are his only moment of peace.”
“If you can even call it that,” you add under your breath as you turn on your heel, your back straightening and face morphing into a bratty and taunting mask as you approach the man you entered the library to find in the first place.
“Good afternoon Mr. Suh,” you say brightly, smacking your hand down against the desk he stands behind, making him jump and his eyes dart quickly up and away from the papers stacked in front of him.
“Hello,” he huffs out, his eyes trailing unamused between you and your friend who poorly stifles a laugh behind you before going back to leaf through the stack and place some sheets to the side, “is there a reason you’re bothering me at work?”
The exhausted tone that coats his words is unfamiliar, and realistically should be your hint that he’s stressed and not in the mood to be messed with, but you have something to prove now. So you only continue and try not to take his cold shoulder to heart.
“Yeah there is,” you nod, pouting as you push a piece of paper with names of books written on it towards him, “see my friend here needs these books but we don’t have the slightest idea of where we’d even start to look for them.”
You throw your hands up dramatically with a sigh, glancing back at your friend, and grinning almost maniacally when you see she’s adopted a pout to aid in your shenanigans.
“Isn’t that what the librarian is for?” he eyes your friends again before locking his eyes onto you, “you know how much work I have to do so I’m not understanding why you decided to ask me.”
“Well Mrs. Lane was busy,” you explain tilting your head. Your heart rate picks up at the idea that he might actually be irritated with you. You tell yourself it’s the thrill of it that does it, but the slightly biting guilt in your belly is refusing to be ignored, “that plus she’s kinda scary… but you’re not.”
He lets out a deep sigh, his hand falling over yours only for a moment to take the piece of paper from your fingers, and you try to ignore the way you shiver at the feeling of his skin on yours.
“Fine,” he relents, pushing the papers to the side, “ I’ll find the books for you, but after that you leave me alone to work, understand?” his eyes take one last journey towards the space where your friend stands, shooting her a warning as well, as if you’re mischievous little children.
“Of course, we wouldn’t want to distract you Mr. Suh,” your tone drops as you take advantage of the proximity of his hand near yours to dance the tips of your fingers across his wrist, his hand jerking away almost immediately at the sensation.
“Behave,” he says sternly, but quiet enough that you’re the only one to hear, “you’re just lucky you’re cute and I was looking for an excuse to take a break anyways.”
You don’t get the chance to respond, or to pick up your jaw from the way it slightly hangs at him so casually calling you cute, before he’s ducking away to search through the shelves. But you try to quickly collect yourself in his absence before you turn around.
“Now we wait,” you weakly grin at your still giggling friend as you walk to sit at the closest table available and try to mask the sudden shakiness you feel in you knees.
——
It’s not a long amount of time before he returns, the small stack of books being slapped onto the table in front of you and making you jump. You’re sure the action is his little dig of revenge on his part, but you can tell your friend is probably more miffed at the action than he probably intended.
You get ready to playfully scold him for scaring you, your brows already threaded together and you index finger shooting out ready to point directly in his face, but he immediately counters the rough action by laying his large hand on your shoulder, his strong fingers kneading the muscle and skin and making you melt back.
“Now please,” he starts, looking down at you with a look strong enough to make you shrink and smile, “leave me to my work, I have to keep up with you enough back at home.”
“Of course,” you grin as you shoot up to stand, a spike of disappointment hits you at the loss of his touch, but his startled look from the sudden close proximity of your faces fills the hole it leaves in you, “wouldn’t want to get in the way of you very important work Mr. Suh.”
You pick up the books in front of you before you brush past him and start to walk away, your friend trailing closely behind, completely oblivious to the hand he reaches out in your passing to tug quickly at the belt loop of your pants.
You turn, using your back to push the door open when you reach it to catch one last look at him, “see you at home, Johnny!” you add, fluttering the fingers of your free hand, making your friend smack your shoulder with a laugh as you tease him with the rare use of his first name. The way he flinches and his skin warms at the implication makes you swell with pride, but the eyes of strangers darting between you too is heavier than you had anticipated.
“Just so you know,” your friend starts, when you step out into the warm sun and she recovers from her spell of giggles and secondhand embarrassment, “that did very little in convincing me that you’re not just trying to seduce him.”
“What are you talking about,” you ask rhetorically, your voice cracking a bit towards the end as you become flustered, “I just showed you didn’t I? Bothering him during work, making him do something that we could have done just as easily. How could I possibly get more on his nerves?”
“I’m just saying, all you did was make me realize that you’re not only trying to seduce him, but you also have the stupidest massive crush on him ever,” she snorts she’s so tickled by her accusations, and you pinch her on the soft skin of her bicep until she yelps and starts to giggle once again, “but you’re in luck, he’s somehow found a way to be much more infatuated with you regardless of how obnoxious you are!”
“Shut up,” you hiss, “he’s not infatuated with me at all, he wanted us out of there before we even walked in.”
“Oh is that what you’re telling yourself,” she glances over with a mocking pout, her voice morphing into a degrading baby talk, “you must be a fool, a liar, or both because I could see it in his eyes and every move he made. You have him wound tight around your little finger and he doesn’t seem like he’s interested in letting go.”
The only thing you can offer in response to that, is the bile of concern that rises in your throat and a shameful curl taking over your shoulders. And a long and loud groan of protest.
—-
When you return home later that night, you frown deeply at the sight of the ‘Do Not Disturb’ signs that he’s hung on both doors leading to his room.
One sign on the door from the hall is fine. It usually means that you’re welcome to come in at your own will, but also not so secretly means he’s interested in having a night of poetry and parallel working with you without the interruption of your mother.
Two signs meant that not even you were allowed to bother him.
You tried to test it once, you wouldn’t be yourself if you didn’t. Defiantly barging in and asking him obnoxiously if you were considered a disturbance or not, but that little episode only ended in a very visibly irritated Johnny and a half hearted threat to lock you out next time if you wanted to test him like that.
It also led to some of the dirtiest talking he’s ever mustered during your late night mutual activities, but regardless of how fun that was, you decided you probably shouldn’t pull another stunt like that.
So with an annoyed flick to the handmade paper sign, you land on your bed with a huff, and start to play on your phone until your eyelids become too heavy to wait for the removal of the sign.
——
You’re not sure what time it is exactly when you awoken, it’s dark out and the streets seem quiet, and perhaps the only thing that still causes any ruckus for miles, is your mother’s rough hands shaking you awake.
“Wake up, we need to talk,” her voice is a quiet but sharp whisper, the holding back of her volume amongst her seething anger another hint to you how late it must have been, “come on right now. I want to make this quick.”
“What could you possibly want,” you groan, visibly shaking her a bit at your lack of volume control and you hand reaching to push the power button of your phone until it lights up and shows it’s clock that reads 12:32 pm, “what are you doing up so late?”
“I had to wait until John went to bed,” she offers as a very confusing explanation as she adjusts herself to sit on the edge of your bed, “you already bother him enough as it is, I don’t really want to enable you. Besides, you seem well rested, so you shouldn’t really care should you?”
“Is this about something or did you really just come in here to be passive aggressive?” you finally sit up, leaning back against the head of your bed as you cross your arms, your face drawn up in a scowl as you drag your eyes over her uptight form, “is it because I didn’t come down to dinner? You just had to get into just one argument to be able to sleep well or something?”
“Don’t be a brat,” she shoves her finger towards your chest, getting visibly more irritated with you when your only reaction is swatting her away, “I’m here to tell you, one last time, to leave. John. Alone.”
“What are you on about? I haven’t even spoken to him since I got home.”
“Not since you got home, no,” she agrees in a way that somehow feels belittling and prideful, “but he told me all about your little visit to the library today.”
‘I doubt he told you everything’ you think as you scoff. Your shoulders sink deeper as you curse him for babbling every time he tries to be polite, and your stomach churns at the idea of having this conversation.
“God, Mom I wasn’t doing anything, I just wanted help finding books for a friend. The librarian was busy and he was the only staff I knew, I told him that.”
“That might be what you told him maybe,” she lifts her finger to shake it in the air, almost as if she’s cursing the air of your room, “but I’m still your mother and I know exactly who you are. Now it’s bad enough that he can’t keep you out of his hair here at the house, the least you can do is give him some peace and quiet while he’s trying to work.”
“Whatever Mom, think whatever you want,” you meant to stop there, you really do, but maybe it’s the half sleep you can still feel your body being pulled into, or just the irritation of her not having a clue about what’s happening in her own house, but you mouth off before you can stop, “I was just wanting some books from the man, it’s not my fault he won’t fuck you.”
If you thought it was quiet earlier, it’s an eerie dead silence now. You’re sure you could hear a pin drop in the house down the street, and this combined with the blank stare she shows you makes your blood run cold.
“You’re lucky Dr. Arnold told me the best way to deal with you is to not give a reaction, she says it just enables you,” she stands with a huff, turning in time that she thankfully doesn’t see the way your eyes roll at the mention of her therapist.
“But let me say this,” she starts as she opens your door and steps halfway out into the hall, “you know nothing about the type of relationship I have with John. I promise the only thing that could possibly be between him and I is you.”
You try not to laugh at how ironic her choice of blame is, but once the door is closed and you can tell she’s gotten a little more than halfway down the hall, you can’t hold it in anymore.
It’s a weak laugh, exhausted and frazzled by the production your mother is as a person, but you laugh regardless. And you keep laughing and laughing, until you can’t use it to ignore the ache that’s settled into your chest.
The idea of just laying down and going back to sleep is a perfect one, if it was in any way possible, but your brain is fully awake and electrified with the words she spat in your face.
Causing Johnny problems, getting on his nerves and “getting in his hair” was your plan. It was your plan from day one, and you thought for sure you were doing exactly that. So why does your mom acknowledging it make you feel like you did something wrong?
You do nothing, not moving an inch, except for staring at the door connecting your room to his. Your eyes were glazed over, your jaw clenched, and roaring silence abusing your eardrums. You almost felt like you were having an out of body experience, especially when it took your brain a beat to catch up with your legs that have started carrying you to the door.
There was about a 98% chance he was asleep. He tried to not be a night owl too badly, but the 2% of chance came from the few times you woke up to him shuffling papers and swearing to himself. Those few times ended in you getting flushed and antsy from how frustrated and gruff he sounded, and turned to you getting off together like normal. The only change in routine being him uncharacteristically saying he’d ‘kill to have you wrapped around him to make him forget his frustrations’ as he comes into his fist, but something about the intensity in his voice made you feel skittish for whatever reason, and you’d duck out into the safety of bathroom to avoid the conversation of possibly making it a reality.
When you push the door open, you see the odds are in your favor, and he’s knocked out asleep.
His hair had gotten longer in his stay here, laying against the back of his neck and falling to frame his face in a way that made you feel like Rapunzal daydreaming about Prince Charming in her secluded tower. And now as he lays stretched out like a lazy house cat on his bed, the longer locs fall into his face and even tickle his nose enough for the muscles in his face to twitch.
You think maybe one day you’ll walk in, and he’ll have been too exhausted to finish changing. Getting only as far as putting on the flannel pajama pants he seemed to prefer, or maybe even just his underwear, before falling into bed completely bare from the hips up. But for now he’s wrapped in an old worn shirt that has little holes scattered along the collar and hem.
You consider maybe just leaving him alone, getting your eye full for the night and then returning to your own bed. But the words of your mom loops continuously in your mind, and regardless of whatever plan you put in place, you needed confirmation that he did not in fact consider you a nuisance.
You do it, before your brain can catch up with your body and heart, before you can scare yourself enough to turn around and sprint back to the safety of your room. You walk slowly to the edge of the bed and slowly sink down until you're sitting down on your knees, your head tilting until the side of your face rests on the cool sheets.
You feel almost irritated at how handsome he is up so close, his eyes fluttering behind his eyelids as he dreams and his curled lips open slightly. There’s no question why it’s so entertaining to you to test his patience, he makes it so easy to enjoy every one of his reactions.
You sigh after a moment, coming to the realization that maybe it’s a little weird to just be sitting and watching him, so before you wake him with your heavy stare, you reach over until your finger rests between his thick eyebrows. Slowly you drag the end of your finger and your nail down the bridge of his nose, stopping at the highest point and tapping on it a few times until his eyes start to flutter open.
You pull away when he becomes aware of his surroundings enough to squint at you and rumble out a confused noise. And it’s at this moment that you realize you never thought past waking him up, and as he looks down at you peeking over the edge of the mattress, you suddenly feel very small.
“Are you okay?” he starts to shift under the blankets that trap his legs, and something about the way he asks the question makes a lump form in your throat and is almost enough to calm the worries your mom planted in your mind.
“I…” you hesitate, unsure of how to answer the question but also just flustered at the way his eyebrows stitch together with concern, “me and my mom kind of got into an argument.”
It’s his turn to hesitate, his head turning away from you as he surveys the rest of the room, before he looks at you again, “c’mere.”
He motions for a moment towards the empty space on his bed by his side, pulling the blanket up and lifting it to invite you into the warmth his body has created.
Your muscles jump as you start to stand, before you sit back again with a racing mind. He must notice your apprehensive motions, because he’s quick to clarify.
“Only if you want to obviously,” he coughs and reaches to scratch at the back of his neck in a shy demeanor you never imagined you’d see on his face, “you’re totally at liberty to tell me to fuck off, but you look like you need to talk.”
You whine without thinking, the small and weak noise pushing past your lips against your control as you stand just enough to crawl into the bed. He turns to lay flat on his back, and once he’s fully rested back, you curl into his side and lay your head on his stomach right below where his rib cage ends.
You feel the tension in your body subside when, the moment you finish shifting around to get comfortable, he reaches down and begins scraping his fingers gently against your scalp.
“You wanna tell me what you two argued about?” he asks cautiously, and honestly, the answer is yes. You’re more than a little upset that he even went and told her about your visit to the library, and you want to grill him about it even if it’s just a little bit. But you decide that can happen later, as now, laying here in the warmth and smell of his room, you feel calmer than venting would grant you at the moment.
“Do you know any poems off the top of your head?” you ask, choosing to answer his question with your own, knowing he’s smart enough to get the hint without needing a cut and dry answer.
“Maybe a few,” he lets out a quiet and tired laugh, moving his fingers down to knead gently into your temple and making your eyes flutter shut, “I can probably remember one or two, just for you.”
“Tell me one please.”
He hums, seemingly taking a moment to think of one to recite, but unknowingly to you, he’s grinning like a madman at the back of your head as his heart starts thumping in his chest at how polite you can manage to be.
“I have one I think you’ll like,” he clears his throat, both of you shifting a bit before he begins, and you even take a leap of faith and reach your hand to rest on the span of his stomach right in front of his face, your fingers pushing slightly under the soft fabric of his shirt.
I carry your heart
He starts, his voice still grumbling with sleep as he brushes his fingers softly against the side of your face.
I carry your heart with me (I carry it in
my heart) I am never without it (anywhere
I go you go, my dear; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing, my darling)
Your breathing deepens the more he speaks, your heart thudding picking up more and more and you fear he might be able to feel it if you move any closer.
I fear
no fate (for you are my fate, my sweet) I want
no world (for beautiful you are my world, my true)
and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you
You close your eyes as tightly as you can, your throat still lodged with what you can only assume is your heart trying to escape the cavity of your chest.
Here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows
higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that’s keeping the stars apart
Your nails dig gently into the skin of his hip, the quiet hiss between his words being the only thing he does to react. Even though the words aren’t his own, and you know it, something about every syllable that slips past his tongue makes it feel like a vice is wrapping tighter and tighter around you and your lungs.
I carry your heart (I carry it in my heart)
The silence of the room is blaring in your ears when he finishes speaking, your whole body becoming very aware of every particle that surrounds you in the room. You don’t want to talk about the poem, or what it means or what he thinks about it or the poet, but you’re terrified of every second that you two leave void of words and the idea of him saying something you’re too scared to hear.
“Can you tell me another?” you finally ask, hoping he’ll ignore the way your voice cracked slightly at the end and the way your body twitches with anxiety.
“Um okay sure,” he taps his fingers against the shell of your ear and down your jaw and neck as he thinks, and when he circles over the skin stretched across your jugular, you think you might pass out, “I think I got one.”
i like my body when it is with your
body.
You try not to gasp at the beginning words, or at the way his hand continues down the side of your neck until it’s resting against your shoulder and under the neck of your shirt.
It is so quite new a thing.
Muscles better and nerves more.
i like your body. i like what it does,
Instead you follow his lead. Matching his pace with your own hand as you move closer and closer to the band of his pants. His own hand taking your motions as encouragement to pull out from under your shirt, and trail down the fabric shielding him from your back.
i like its hows. i like to feel the spine
of your body and its bones, and the trembling
-firm-smooth ness and which i will
again and again and again
kiss,
He pairs the words that fill the room with his wandering hands slipping up the back of your shirt and his fingers gently trailing up the curve of your spine in a way that tickles you enough to make you shake and curl more onto your stomach, forcing your hand to dip deeper under the elastic that presses against your wrist. The feeling of wiry hairs brushing your fingers making your body flush as you find he doesn’t wear anything underneath.
i like kissing this and that of you,
i like, slowly stroking the, shocking fuzz
of your electric fur, and what-is-it comes
over parting flesh… And eyes big love-crumbs,
He says the words slowly, the same way he speaks filthy words when he knows you’re touching yourself to the thought of him. His own hand starts to brush against the entirety of your back, and when it curls over to brush the skin of your hip, you feel like your entire body is on fire.
and possibly i like the thrill
of under me you so quite new
The silence is there again, feeling suffocating and too real for you to face. The small bulge that’s formed underneath the thin fabric of his pants is unignorable, and you thank the universe and the human anatomy because as much as you love the next move you make, it’s also the perfect distraction.
You’re teasingly slow as your fingers brush softly over the base of his length, his labored breathing distracting you from the tension the words he poured into your mind.
His hand tenses against your skin, hesitantly brushing against your lower belly as his other hand reaches up and takes the job of brushing against your hairline. Your head moves with every breath he takes and as you scrape your nails against his sensitive skin, you feel like you’re almost seconds away from melting into one another.
“You don’t have to do that,” he reassures, but his voice pitches as he chooses the exact moment you wrap your hand around him to speak.
You don’t respond, not verbally as you're unsure of how to and afraid to break the shell the silence and his voice has created around you. Instead, you use your elbow to push yourself up, and you shift further down the span of his torso.
His hands don’t stop petting at your skin, eager and clearly unhappy with you moving farther away. His fingers twitch and curl around you without any thought from him, and when you pull him out and level with your mouth that’s begun to slightly water.
“Don’t start something you can’t finish,” he warns again, his tone tilting towards an air of arrogance against his will, and when you look up at him with your eyes wide, he lets out a deep groan, “you’re always ten steps ahead of yourself you know that?”
His hand falls as you start moving your hand against him, trying to hold back your shock at the size of him at what seems to only be half hardness as his thumb brushes over your bottom lip. You don’t think you have the total right to be shocked at his size, you’ve felt it more than a few dozen times at this point, but holding him in your hand and close to your waiting mouth feels worlds different than teasing him under the table.
“Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?” he starts to ramble, deep swears following the question as you brush your tongue softly against his tip.
This begins one of the few times you’ve felt any true power over the man. Sure you taunt and tease, but you know any glare hard enough, or a strong hand wrapped around your wrist or ankle, would have you backing down. But now, as you wrap your mouth around him, and start to slowly bob your head in tandem with your still moving hand, you’re sure you could ruin his life.
You turn until you're flat on your stomach, his hand losing the touch of your torso and instead joining the other in brushing against your temples and helping you guide your motions. Your own free hand finds its way trailing slowly up his stomach, and when your nails scrape along the taunt skin, you suppress a grin around him at the way he shivers.
You feel your spit pooling on your tongue, slipping past the way he fills your mouth, and trailing down until it hits your hand. The quiet wet noises that follow makes you shiver, and as you hold his eyes with yours, you feel as if you’re falling into your own universe.
You reluctantly drop your eyes, tilting your head down until your lips bump your fist and his tip presses towards the back of the roof of your mouth. The groan he lets out shakes you and the bed below you, and as you curl your tongue around him, you hope his brain is melting in his skull.
You lift up after a moment, releasing him from your lips with a soft pop, and when you look at him again his eyes are shut tightly and his head pushes back into his pillow.
“Mr. Suh,” you call out to catch his attention, and when he jerks to look up at you, you’re shaken by how dark his eyes and how flushed his skin has become.
He only hums in encouragement, telling you that you have his full attention, regardless of how your soft hand moves and your thumb rolling circles on his tip.
“Will you come in my mouth?” you ask as innocently as you had when you asked if you thought you were pretty, your eyes wide and lips forming in a pout, the only difference now is the small bead of saliva that trails down your chin and the way you tap him softly against your cheek and lips, “Mr. Suh, I want you so bad.”
“You have me,” he promises, his voice gruff and his eyes warm as he brushes his hand down the side of your face, and it takes more self control than you’d like to admit to not lean into his touch and start to purr, “I’ll do whatever you ask me.”
You tuck your bottom lip between your teeth, biting down on the soft flesh as you softly smile and bat your eyes up at him, but after a moment of giving him your best puppy eyes, you move down again to put him back into your waiting mouth.
He kneads at the muscles of your shoulders as you work him with your tongue and hand, brushing his fingers against your neck and scalp and it’s almost enough to lull you out if it wasn’t for the task at hand.
He tries to control his hips as you whine and moan around him, not wanting to gag or disrupt you, but the way you lean in hollow your mouth around him makes him jerk and twitch.
“Careful,” he warns, his words tense and his breathing short. It was meant as a way to tell you to slow down, that he was nearing his edge, and from the nights you’ve heard him through the door, you knew just as well as he did how close he was. And you didn’t care.
You feel your heartbeat pick up in your chest, your jaw aching and your fingers cramping just slightly as you move faster against him. His usually polite and jovial mouth turns vulgar and crude as you push him more and more, and before he can speak another warning, he finishes hot and messy on your greedy tongue.
You don’t slow down as his come slips down the back of your tongue, the bitter taste unfazed you as your brain and heart just revel in the long groan he lets out and his rough hands pushing as gently as possibly at the back of your head. It’s almost embarrassing how, the way he tries to stay gentlemanly even in a situation like this makes your chest blossom with heat.
Your heart thuds faster as you pull away from him, and as he tries to even out his breathing, you’re forced to acknowledge the slight wash of panic that’s filled your veins.
You let him fall from your hand, and try to ignore the way small drops of his come and your saliva that coats the length of him, before you place your mouth down on his pelvis and hips. You trail his heated skin in small kisses, trying to calm both him and yourself, and when he drapes his arm over his eyes and your heart and constricting chest don’t show interest in giving you a break, you take the moment to sit up as quickly as your wobbling limbs allow and dart back into your room.
Your body is still on auto pilot, but the pilot that steers your bones and flesh now is manic and scared. It’s also fully aware of the hiding spot you have that keeps the cheap bars you bought online that barricade your door.
It was a rash purchase you made after your mom barged in after a rather venomous argument, and up until now, they had only been used on her.
If you were working on a logical mind, you’d assume that Johnny was sympathetic enough to know that the running off and slamming door was enough of a hint that you’d want a moment alone, but as you shiver with worry and confusion, you don’t want to take any risk on him trying to talk it out.
So after both doors are successfully wedged shut, and tears of confused and bitter tears of frustration are slipping down your cheeks, you crawl into bed and curl as tightly as you can. Wondering and asking the universe what you’ve just done.
You wake up at about noon.
The house is quiet and your lack of alarm and your mom barging into your room made it a perfect breeding ground for sleeping in, and in your tired state you wonder how no one’s come to wake you, until you turn and see the bars shoved below the door nobs.
Every frame of the night before floods into your mind at once, and the dryness of your mouth makes you cringe. You feel like you’re only made of half of your soul, and your bones feel hollow and you dramatically flop with your face pressed into your sheets.
Unlike last night, you find yourself wanting to talk to the man you hear shuffling around in his room. His quiet hums to himself reminding you of how he sounded loud and clear without the door to block you from him. And the weight he left on your tongue sparks a fire in your belly that makes your thighs twitch and press together.
You hate the idea that starts to slip into your mind, you hate how on brand it is and how bratty it will make you seem, especially after your little episode. But you hate mostly, the fact that you choose to drag a friend into such a messy and confusing situation.
You don’t know what changed in you. What killed the panic, or maybe the panic wasn’t killed at all. Something has you vibrating with energy, like something shocked you in your sleep. And you need to get whatever reaction he was willing to dish out today if it only meant you could see his face again without the weight of a silent night and a heart cracked from an argument.
You don’t give yourself much time to mull over the moral implications the idea presents, you’re grabbing your phone and opening your contacts because you can talk yourself out of being too dramatic, and it’s ringing on speaker as you climb out of bed step over to the door to take away the barricade and lean your shoulder against the wall to its side.
“What?” your friend mutters when she hits answer, and from the quality of her tone, you fear she didn’t wake up much sooner than you.
“I have something important to tell you,” you clear your throat, keeping a neutral volume as you don’t need to tip off the man before it was necessary, “well, a few important things.”
She grumbles in annoyance, but you know she’s not going to deny you and she only means it to tease you, so you start the cliff notes of the night you experienced.
You tell her about your mother grilling you about your visit to the library, and she only interrupts to scoff and wonder aloud why your mother behaves like a jealous teenager. You stutter explaining why the idea of your mom thinking Johnny hates you stung so badly, when just the day before you were swearing up and down that hatred was the end goal, and she sighs in loving endearment while you ignore her playfully calling you a moron.
She’s the easiest person you’ve ever explained your confusing anxieties to, and this time is no different. She calls your rundown of how confused and panicked and incredibly turned on you felt with your mouth wrapped around him the “most worrying but entertaining hoe story” she ever heard, and it pulls a laugh from you that lifts the fog from your mind.
“So,” she starts when your rambling comes to a close, “you do like him and you’re not going to deny it because if you try I’ll reach through the phone and smack you.”
“And if I do?” you hesitate, your chest aching as you admit this to not only her, but also yourself, “am I a bad person?”
“Why would you be a bad person,” she scoffs, and you can perfectly form the mental image of her shaking her head, “he's just some guy. You're perfectly within your right to like him dude, especially with how handsome he is? Don’t let your mom or yourself get into your head. You might have been pissed when he first showed up, but your feelings are allowed to change.”
“Okay, thank you. Seriously,” you pause, chewing harshly on your lip as you think how to ask, “will you help me with getting him to talk to me?”
“Can you not just go talk to him,” she asks amongst the shuffling sound of whatever she does on the other end, “I mean you literally share a door.”
“I want him to initiate it,” you pout and whine, making her let out a dry laugh and most likely roll her eyes.
“Okay, live your life I guess,” she laughs again, and lets out a huff that tells you whatever she’s doing, she’s getting comfortable, “what do you need me to do?”
You sigh loudly, turning your face toward the seam of the door to help your voice carry into his room, and a wide smile pulls on your lips when you hear him pause while shuffling his papers.
“He’s all bark and no bite,” you speak as loud and clear as you can while still sounding casual, and you can only hope he’s listening as attentively as you know he can, “your think after everything, all I’ve done to provoke him, he’d do something about it.”
“Oh okay I see what you’re doing,” she says around a mouth full of whatever snack she’s gotten her hands on as she lets a rush of air out through her nose, “do you think he can hear me or do you want me to play along regardless.”
“Play along, he might be able to hear you but I want to be humored too,” you whisper.
“Okay cool,” she clears her throat, she’s always been one to get too far into her method acting, and when she speaks with a raised voice directly into the microphone of her phone, you know she’s into it, “yeah that’s pretty ridiculous, after you sucked his dick and let him hear you come and everything, you’d think he’d take a hint eventually.”
“That’s what I’m saying, ugh,” you kick the back of your foot back, to smack your sole against the wall in hopes of getting him to jump, “just, how much more am I going to have to do before he just takes the hint and fucks me?”
Your heart beat skyrockets when you hear him stand up, his footsteps heavy and slow as he gets closer to the door and the girl on the other end of the phone lets out delighted peels of laughter.
“He’s so hot dude,” she starts, and you know the words hold sincerity, “if I were you I’d just take matters into my own hands like you did last night. Let him know what he’s missing out on.”
“Maybe I will,” you stumble over your words when the door beside your swings open with more force than he probably intended as he might have assumed he was still locked out, “maybe I’ll just tell him to his face. I want you Mr. Suh and every second you don’t take the bait you look like a fool.”
Your chest is filled with white hot fire as the words fly off your tongue as you stare darkly into his eyes, and the blank and unamused glare he wears on his features is enough to stoke the warmth between your thighs.
“Oh fuck is that him, ah wait,” she blabbers without thinking, and your face almost breaks into a cringe when she clears her throat and almost speaks to the man directly, “you should. Give him the medicine he’s been refusing to take like some kind of toddler.”
You almost gape at her choice of words, but you force yourself to hold neutral, especially when you see the way his jaw clenches and his fingers impatiently tap against the door frame in response.
“Can I speak to you?” it's worded like a question, but it doesn’t feel like one when he spits it at you, and when he returns to his room with a slam of the door, your friend begins to giggle maniacally.
“Okay maybe that was harsh, but I’ve never spoken to him directly before so I kind of panicked,” she explains with slurred speech and a pitched tone, “but sounds like it worked. He sounded mad though, so have fun in the principal’s office I guess.”
“Ha ha,” you dryly respond, but the fluttering in your chest forces a smile on your face.
You say your goodbyes, and she wishes you good luck one last time, before you hang up and are faced with the taunting door shut in your face again.
You let out huffs and sighs, your stomach turning at the lack of sound he makes on the other side. You toss your phone back onto your bed, and take a minutes to pace around until you build up the confidence and most likely resting his nerves in the process, but you can’t help but feel that it will only make what’s to come more fun.
When you peek your head into the room, you get deja vu of the day you met him. He stands tall behind his desk, the papers on his desk just as cluttered as always, and the only difference is his longer hair and tense posture.
“Were you having fun with you and your friend’s little conversation?” he shows no hesitation in grilling you as slowly enter the room, and the pout that lands on your features is automatic, “is that all this is? Just you messing with me to have something to entertain your friends with?”
“No,” you snap at him, walking until you’re leaning the palms of your hands against his desk as you try to match his posture and irritation, “since when did you start thinking that lowly of me?”
“What else am I supposed to think,” he says your name, and for whatever reason the syllables pierce your heart and makes the air around you feel much too intimate, “especially after the way you ran out last night, and now talking like that to your friend? Please tell me what that was supposed to make me think.”
You scoff, rolling your eyes in a way that always visibly irritated him, “whatever,” you breath, tapping your nails against the wood below you, “you act like I killed someone. You initiated a lot of what happened last night, and you can’t act like you didn’t. Like did you hear the poems you told me or was that just my imagination?”
“I- listen,” he stutters and his eyes shut tightly as his shoulders pull towards his ears, “it doesn’t matter now. You’re right, I did start it but I shouldn’t have.”
“So you regret it?” you don’t mean to sound as broken as you do when you speak, but you can’t help it, and his eyes snap open in response.
“I didn’t say that.”
“Then what are you saying?” you came in for fun, but now find yourself getting hurt and just as irritated as him.
“I’m saying,” he leans forward, his hand ready to brush against your cheek, but he thinks twice and pulls away, “I’m the older one between the two of us. And as the older one, I can’t take advantage of you like that.”
Your mouth opens, but no noise comes out. You’re confused, and shocked, and then finally just annoyed.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” your eyes must be wild as you trace the features of his face because he only looks concerned in response, “Advantage? Johnny you’re not forty, you're a grad student and I’m in undergrad. What you think I’ve never fucked a grad student before?”
He stiffens, more than he already is and with a pout you realize you want nothing more than to reach out and help him relax. The look that dances across his face is the only indicator that you need to tell you he didn’t love the idea of you being with other people, and you take it as a good sign and cling on.
“I’m not a grad student any more,” he shoots you a slighted look, grasping at straws now to get an argument, ”I’m getting my doctorate.”
“Oh your doctorate ooo,” you taunt as you flick at the papers he had neatly stacked in front of you, “whatever you’re still a student stop acting like you’re middle aged. If you’re not interested, just tell me.”
“I can’t tell you that, because that’s not the truth,” he starts to try to explain, but your irritation and annoyance boils over.
“Then fucking tell me the truth John.”
“I just did,” he circles the desk, taking your shoulder in his hands and forcing you to look in his eyes as he speaks, “look at the scenario. I come in, claim my space in your house and just throw off your whole life. Letting you do what you do at dinner and what happened last night, I don’t want you to be making these reckless decisions just to get at me anymore.”
“You’re an idiot,” you speak bluntly, “you think this all just to fuck with you? You must be stupid as a rock, or maybe your brain is just to overfilled with poetry to form a coherent thought.”
You move your hands to wrap around his wrists, ready to push him off of you and rush back to your room, but the feeling of his skin and the warmth of his hands feels too nice and just makes you sulk.
“You’re so much of a brat,” he shakes his head and confuses your heart when he says it in such an endeared tone, “you amaze me with how much you can make me obsessed with you while just messing with my head. And now just standing here trying to say there’s no a power imbalance amazes me.”
“Johnny, I’m getting sick of this. I like you, and you’re not going to change that,” you’re too busy seething at him to notice his hands slowly moving to hold onto the side of your neck, but your own hands follow his every move, “There’s no power imbalance, you’re not my teacher and I’m a fucking adult. I can want to like and fuck whoever I want. It’s just up to you whether or not you want to do something about it.”
He doesn’t respond, his features fall to a rest and his shoulders sink as the gears turn in his head. The only other times you’ve seen him as deep in thought as he is now, is on the few occasions he’s let you in his office while he works on his thesis, and you get to see him analyze poetry and literature like it holds the secrets to the universe.
“John-“ you start to speak again, your body and soul shrinking as he stares down at you with such intense and unmoving eyes, but you don’t get another second to speak before his mouth is finally slotting against yours.
He doesn’t give you a moment to think before his tongue shoves itself into your mouth, flicking at the back of your teeth and brushing against yours as he steps around you until your tailbone pushes harshly into the edge of the desk.
You feel dizzy and your heart slams against your chest when he starts to press his thumbs into the sides of your neck and into your jugulars.
Your hands scramble behind you, shoving the papers you made a mess of out of the way to your best ability, until there's space for you to push yourself up to sit on the edge.
He groans into your open mouth in delight, his hips stuttering until they press into the crotch of your pajama shorts as they bunch up at the apex of your thighs. His hands fall from your neck, moving to wrap around your back and pull you to grind into him as yours reach to wind around his shoulders, keeping him pressed to your hungry mouth and tongue.
Kissing him had been a frequent daydream of yours. One you’d find yourself drooling and dazing over, until you’d catch yourself and huff at the idea of mooning over a man like that. But now that it’s happening and the taste of him is permanently burned into your mind, you never want it to end.
“I was so cruel to you last night,” he confesses between deep pulling kisses that he uses to silence your whines, and you grumble in confusion, “you were so pretty with your mouth wrapped around me and then you ran off. I didn’t even get to do the gentlemanly thing and return the favor.”
“You wanted to return the favor?” you whisper, almost afraid to speak out loud after how fired up you were just moments ago.
“Is that even a question,” his right hand trails up the outside of your thigh before wrapping around your knee and using it to pull you tighter against him, “it would be an honor to make and watch you come sweetheart.”
He dips his face into your neck after he breaks your last heated kiss, his mouth leaving only a few unassuming kisses to the side of your neck before his teeth sink into the sensitive skin until you yelp.
“Will you let me make you come baby?” he asks, and the way you gasp and moan at the way he punctuates the question by thrusting his growing bulge into you is enough of a response for him.
He shushes you quietly as he starts to guide you down to lay flat on the desk behind you, his own hand reaching behind you to clear more space and you can only anticipate the complaints you’ll have to hear later when he has to reorganize.
He tries to follow your neck with his lips, but once you're laying flat, the leaning starts to strain his back and he instead pacifies himself by trailing his tongue down the center of your collarbones and into the dip of your chest.
His hands push up the hem of your shirt as he bites and sucks small hickeys on your chest, his fingers calloused and rough as kneads the flesh of your hips and sides, and after he gets his fill of decorating your skin, he moves to lave his tongue flat against your stomach, dipping the end of it slightly into the dip of your belly button to tickle you and make you squirm.
The pace in which he pulls your shorts and underwear down your thighs is torture, but he seems unbothered by your whines, your fingers pulling at this hair, and your toes pressing into his sides as just continues to bite and suck on the skin of your hips and belly.
Once they’re past your knees though, they fall and pool in a pile on the floor, and your skin damp with arousal is exposed to the cool air circulating through the room. His hands move to both of your knees, and pulls your legs farther and farther apart to expose you more.
He lifts your knees, pushing them to your chest as he sinks down until he’s kneeling in front of you. Your thighs flex involuntarily as they try to close, but all that movement accomplishes is him biting harshly at the skin of your inner thigh.
“Don’t tease me please,” you beg with a pout as you lean up on one elbow to look down at him, and your chest burns in delight when he looks up at you with devious eyes and curled lips, “I didn’t tease you.”
His head jerks to a tilt at your words, “you didn’t?” he asks in disbelief, as if he wasn’t present for the moment you were referencing. His tongue clicks when you shake your head in response, “that sounds very out of character, are you sure that was you.”
“John,” you huff in protest, tugging on his head harshly enough to make him grunt, and fueled by the spark of irritation he feels at you, he leans forward and drags his tongue flat against your skin and collects the taste of you on his taste buds.
You stay propped up on your elbows to the best of your ability with the way your head falls back onto your shoulders. But when he crudely spits on your clit and mutters a vulgar comment of how pretty you are, you almost stumble and lose your support.
You mirror the motions he took last night, rolling your hips up towards his mouth as he dips his tongue shallowly into your entrance before wrapping his full lips around your clit. His tongue drags over the buzzing nerves every time he pulls at you and pops the skin out of his mouth, and you desperately want to guide him like he did you with your grip on his hair, but the way he leans into you, the muscles of his shoulder shifting under his shirt visibly with effort, makes it hard for you to keep up.
Your legs fall over his shoulders as he releases them from his hold, one hand trailing up to press into your lower belly while he wiggles the other between your thighs and his face until his middle and ring fingers start to prod at your dripping entrance.
You already were on the verge of losing your sanity from the feeling of his tongue, but as his fingers slowly start to sink into you and stretch you out around their girth, you think you might see heaven.
Your seconds away from swearing loudly without a thought, his fingers curling inside you and pushing you closer and closer much quicker than you ever could in your late night activities, when a knock rings out from the door and you both freeze.
There’s a beat of silence, his mouth detaching from your skin in this time but his fingers still slowly pushing and pulling inside you, before a shrill voice calls out to the man.
“John,” it was your mother, and if it wasn’t for his hand still pushing you down you would have scrambled away at the sound of her voice, “you had a call from some people in the English department dear.”
“Oh is that so,” he tries to reply in the most even tone he can muster as he stands to mutter something about not worrying because he put up his ‘do not disturb’ sign this morning, and that’s usually enough to keep her out, “um well, did they say what they needed?”
“Oh yes they did,” she raises her voice as she gauges now how far he is from the door, and if it wasn’t for her presence you’d probably scream at how he picks up the pace of his fingers and shows zero concern in giving you a break aside from wrapping his free arm around the back of your head until he can clasp his hand over your agape mouth, “they didn’t go into much detail, but they said something about an emergency meeting and you needing to get to campus as soon as you can if possible.”
“Ah okay,” he turns to nod at you with a smile, as if his curling fingers aren’t making you clench and squirm around him. His thumb joins in now to roll over you clit, and when you thrash and cry out under him, the smile only grows wider, “thank you so much for relaying the message ma’am, I’ll be out once I finish up with what I got laid out on my desk right now.”
You kick him, not hard enough to inflict any pain but enough to make him laugh and fuck you harder on his fingers. You can tell he loves every second of the situation from the mischievous glint that’s popped into his eyes and you can only start to try to form revenge plans as you try to hold off your orgasm in hopes you don’t hit it with your mom still within ear shot.
Thankfully, she lets out a content hum, and begins to walk away, and even when he moves his hand away from your mouth, you wait until you hear her hit the last step to begin to scold him.
“I can’t fucking believe you, you dirty old man,” you swat at him the best you can with shaking limbs, “I should just-“
You interrupt yourself with a pathetic whine when he gets fed up with your choice of words enough to reel back and land a stinging slap directly on your cunt. You thighs jump, and when he shoves his fingers back into you, you cling to the sleeve of his shirt and whimper.
“Would you believe, now who’s all bark and no bite now? Just like I thought. Just put your hands in the right place,” he pauses, for the dramatics mostly, but also to press the heel of his hand into your clit as he fingers you roughly, “and you just turn into the prettiest little puddle of come don’t you?”
“Please,” you plead without thinking, “please let me come before you leave.”
“It would be a crime against the universe to leave such a pretty little angel like you hanging. I could never do that to you my love.”
He pressed his mouth against yours one last time, his tongue pushing the taste of your skin onto your tastebuds and making you moan. He seems addicted to your lips and tongue, as he pulls away more than a few times, clearly intent on moving, before he has to dip in for one last taste.
Once he’s finally gotten his fill, he returns to his place kneeling on the floor. He pulls you open with his fingers, spreading your open for his tongue, before he pulls your clit between his lips and sucks and licks until your nails are scraping into the old wood.
You rock your hips gently against his mouth as your orgasm creeps closer and closer, and he only follows the motion with happy groans. If his mouth wasn’t occupied he’d be babbling about how sexy you look with your mouth hanging open and your eyes rolling back, so instead he tries to use his eyes and tongue to express himself.
You thought the first night you made yourself come to his voice was the most intense orgasm you’ve ever experienced, and up until now maybe that was true. But the smell and feel and taste of him surrounding you and how eager and unrelenting his tongue is against your skin has you reeling.
You’re panting fast, so fast you fear you might start to hyperventilate. You use his hand that lays on your stomach as an anchor, and when he flips it over to intertwine your fingers, you think your heart might stop.
The muscles in your back tense, your thighs shake around his head, and as you cry out and come around his fingers, he continues to lick at you until tears start to build on your waterline and the muscles of your stomach teeter on cramping.
He works you over until your brain is incapable of forming words, the aftershocks he delivers to your nervous system making you squeak and push at him until he finally relents.
You take in a rattling breath of air, filling your lungs until you have to let out a rough cough, and he stands up with a pleased smile as you slump back onto the palms of your hands.
“I’d do anything to fuck you right here right now,” his hands return to wrap around your thighs, tugging you to sit flush against him again, “if work didn’t interrupt your life at the worst possible times.”
“Go,” you huff, shoving your finger into the scruff of his hair and pulling him into a chaste kiss, “I’ll always be waiting here for you. Just like I do everyday.”
——
You feel like an anxious puppy waiting for him to get home.
Your nerves on fire and your skin burning as, surprisingly, the mind numbing orgasm he gave you before he left somehow ended up not being enough to calm the rabid animal that nested in your belly the day he showed up.
You expected to hear him walk through the front door, come immediately to your room, but when you look through your window and see him walk through the gate leading to your backyard and sitting down on the steps leading to your house, you jump up quickly and stumble down the staircase and out to where he sits.
When you walk up to him, you can tell he’s stressed from the way his shoulders are tensed. The smoke that billows up from the cigarette that he holds in his fingers adds to the context clues and makes your nose wrinkle.
You step quietly over to him, ignoring the way he looks up to go down a few steps below him to sit.
You think for a moment, hesitating before you lean your head and side into his leg, and you can’t help the content sigh you let out when he responds by reaching out to gently pat the top of your head.
“School sucks,” you blurt out without thinking, confused slightly at your choice of words regardless of the fact they came from your own mouth.
“Bold thing to say to a teacher,” he chuckles quietly in response, petting your head and temples gently as he speaks, “but I’d have to agree with you on that one kid.”
“Why’d they call you back to campus?” you tentatively ask, turning your head to rest your chin against his thigh, unsure if that’s something you can ask.
“Nothing too important,” he sighs, taking another drag of his cigarette in a way that tells you that he isn’t fully telling the truth, “there was some blips in the department’s budget and unimportant shit like that and…”
“And what?” you ask as your eyebrows pull together at the way he waves his hands as he speaks.
“And they’ve shortened the deadlines for some of the required materials for my thesis,” he finally admits with a groan, “which isn’t a huge deal, I was doing pretty well with staying ahead and finding good references in the library. It just feels like such a bullshit thing to spring on me.”
“I’m sorry,” you say with full sincerity, as you reach up to tug on the leg of his jeans, “that sounds annoying as hell.”
He looks down at you, and when you eyes meet, his features soften.
“You can ask me if you want,” he encourages, his eyebrows darting towards his hairline as he pushes the pad of his thumb between your furrowed brow.
“Ask what?”
“Whatever it is you’re wanting to ask,” he leans down for moment to snuff out his cigarette on the stone of the steps before sitting up to look at you again, “I can see it bouncing around in that cute little head of yours, and if it’s what I think it is, I can guarantee you’ll probably like the answer.”
You like the silence that surrounds you now. The rays of the setting sun shining down on you and the warm color making his eyes shine. You can’t suppress the soft smile that crawls onto your lips and your heart starts to flutter when he mirrors the look.
“Are we…” you hesitate, fumbling at the last moment and becoming weirdly shy as he stares at you, “are we cool?”
“Are we cool?” he repeats sarcastically, “damn you make it sound like you're a drinking buddy I had a falling out with or something. You know, instead of the person I’ve been falling in love with since the day I met you.”
“So we are cool,” you sit up as you speak, using a joking tone to smother the anxiety that’s attacking your heart.
“We’re cooler than cool,” he leans forward against, placing his lips softly against the tip of your nose and you can only sigh in content at the act, “baby we are fucking ice cold.”
——
Johnny sneaking into your room isn’t uncommon.
It’s more common for you to sneak into his, of course, but on the days you get home before him and you pass out after a stressful lecture, he’s quick to crawl into your bed and wrap you up until you feel like nothing in the world could hurt you.
It was the best you had, aside from the times he’d hang up the abused ‘do not disturb’ sign so your mother would leave you in peace as, for as far as she was concerned, you were still just annoying him.
She didn’t know you had him on a leash, had him dedicated and infatuated and just all together stupid with love for you. She didn’t know about tense feelings that led to wandering lips and tongues that happened in his room. And you both agreed that it was easier for both of your stress levels to keep it that way.
So sneaking between two rooms was common, and even a bit thrilling at times, but tonight you were so deeply sleeping, you didn’t hear him enter the room.
You don’t twitch when he pulls back your blankets, you don’t even stir when he pulls down your thin shorts down to your thighs and rolls you on your stomach with your legs falling apart.
What finally stirs you awake, is his rough fingers that have been coated in his saliva reach down and push between your thighs until they glide against your velvet skin.
Your back curves, pushing your hips towards him from muscle memory, and your arms stretch out like a napping cat.
He laughs quietly at your immediate response, regardless of the sleep that pulls heavy on your eyelids. The idea of stirring you awake by touching you was always running through his mind with excitement, and you’ve come to love just as much as him.
He doesn’t speak much, cooing in encouragement and spilling filthy pet names into your ear being the only thing he says as he sinks his fingers into you and pushes his other hand between your shoulder blades to keep you down.
You can feel that it doesn’t take long for you to start to gush around his fingers, you level of responsiveness to his touch being something that always inflated his ego and made him taunt you when you wanted to do nothing but come.
And he does that exact thing now. His voice is rough from a day full of his own lectures, and his hands equally rough from calluses and scars from his constantly gained and healing paper cuts. It takes more self control than you’d like to have to reach down and see if you can roll your clit fast enough to make you come, but you know he’d just swat you away and scold you if you did.
You whine when he pulls his fingers away, trying to push back into him, until he swings his leg over to straddle your thighs and shoves his hand into the center of your back to hold you down.
“John please,” you ask as sweetly as you can muster with your brain still trying to dip back into a half slumber, and he catches the shell of your ear between his teeth in retaliation.
You can hear the metallic clanking of his belt as he undoes his slacks, the pressure of him fully hard length pressing against the seam of your thighs make your feet kick up and hit him on the back of his thighs.
He shushes you, asks you to be good and stay quiet for him, and you’ll get exactly what you want from him.
He follows through with his promise when he starts to slowly sink himself into your drenched and fluttering walls, and when he’s only halfway in, and already stretching you enough to make your eyes roll, his now freed hand joins the other in pushing you down into your sheets and keeping you still as he starts to rock into you.
“Look at how pretty you are my love,” he’s in the moment enough that he starts to make sense again, forming sentences instead of just degrading and praising you with broken speech, “always ready and warm to take me aren’t you.”
“Yes, always,” your voice is airy and if it was for the way he tilts his head down towards you, he may have not heard at all.
“Yes, who?”
You back back into him at the question he asks, the words he’s asking you to speak making you delirious and hot.
“Yes Mr. Suh,” you cough the words with a hiccup and a sob, his thrusts picking up once the title is in the air and digging his tip directly into the spot that makes your vision blur.
He swears loudly at the state of you below him, and he’s sure he can come just from holding you down and having his way with you, but you learned quickly when you two finally started screwing around that he’s a suck for eye contact when he comes in you.
He makes this obvious when he pulls out with a frustrated ‘fuck’ and wraps his arm around your stomach beneath you. He only gives you a second to find grounding before he flips you over quickly, and shoves your hands into his hair.
You cling to him immediately, pulling him down to latch your mouth to his and he shoves you knees up his hips and pushes himself back inside of you.
He fucks you deep and quickly, his pelvis brushing against your clit as he leans his weight down into you until your chest is flush against his.
“Are you going to come for me?” he asks as if he doesn’t know every way your body twitches and turns.
“Yes, Mr. Suh, please, please don’t stop,” when you're out of the moment, you hate how he can make you beg for him, but when he’s surrounding every one of your senses with every inch of him, begging is the only thing you can muster.
“You’ll do anything I ask won’t you baby?” he asks, his teeth looking sharp as he lets go of one of your thighs to wrap his fingers around your throat until his fist pushes up your chin to force you to look into his eyes.
You can only nod frantically as he pushes you closer and closer with his body rocking yours up your mattress.
“Then run off with me.”
It takes more than a moment for the words to make sense in your clouded brain, but you’re still confused when they click. He repeats himself again, adding new pet names and rolls of his hips every time, and finally after a nip to your cheek, you nod frantically again.
“Yeah?” he asks, his excitement over whatever you agreed to enough to not need a verbal response, “of course you will. Now be good for me and come.”
You’ve told him a million times that he must have untapped super powers that he’s just blissfully unaware of, because every time he tells you to come, it’s as if your body is desperate to comply. Of course whenever you say this he adopts a shit eating grin and tells you that he doesn’t have super powers but rather, he’s “just that good.”
But regardless of how much you want to scold him for being cocky, he doesn’t seem to be wrong, and when the command slips his tongue, your legs lock around him to pull him close as the beginning of you orgasm starts to zip up your spine.
You fist at his hair as you back arches up into his torso, and the hiss he lets out in pain is muffled by his teeth latching harshly onto your jaw.
You destroy your bottom lip with your teeth as jumbled sounds escape your scratching throat. Your clenching walls lock around him as you come, and after only a few stubborn moments, he follows suit and pushes into you until he can’t go any deeper.
The feeling of him spilling into you makes your orgasm wash over you in more powerful ways, something you’ve tried to explain to him is a thing that happens, and even though he couldn’t fully understand, he was more than happy to comply.
His button up sticks to his clammy skin, and the thin t-shirt you stole from him so long ago does the same to yours.
You rock against each other as the aftershocks plague your cores, and he nuzzles his nose into your neck as he lays his full weight on top of you.
You sit in silence for a while, the only sounds being your panting breaths as you stare down at him to admire the way the string lights you use to decorate your room illuminate his skin.
You think for a moment that he’s fallen asleep. His eyelashes brushing against his cheeks, and his soft panting breath hitting your neck. So when he peeks one eye open to catch you in your admiration, your skin warms in embarrassment.
“Did you mean it?” he asks softly, but all you can do is hum back in confusion, “when you said runaway with me somewhere. I know it was in the heat of the moment and maybe you didn’t really know I was asking but y’know…”
“I’d go anywhere with you,” you reassure, reaching down to brush the hair from his eyes, “but what are you getting at?”
“My housing at the school is ready.”
If it wasn’t for the weight of his body on top of you, you would have probably sat up, the earlier question and the news not connecting fully in your brain and making a wash of panic come over you.
“And,” he continues quickly, noticing your confusion and concern, “I emailed the housing director, and he said it’s very common for the PhD students to live with their partners there.”
“So you’re saying…” you bait him into continuing, even though you start to understand what he’s asking you now.
“They’re offering me housing long enough for me to finish out my PhD and for you to finish your bachelors,” he pushes his hand under your shirt as he talks, his hand laying warm and flat as his drags up and down your back.
“Are you asking me to move in with you Mr. Suh?”
“Are you willing to move in with me?” he adds a taunting flare to the question by mocking the polite manner you use to refer to him, “I mean I can’t help but wonder. Finishing my PhD, publishing my research, and then maybe fucking off to New York with the most gorgeous and amazing person I’ve ever met.”
“New York?!” your mind is so blurred by your still subsiding orgasm, that you can’t help but lose your way a bit and cling onto the mention of the city.
“Is that a yes? Is that your way of telling me yes?”
“Johnny Suh,” you start, filling the space between you with intensity at the use of his full name, “I’d follow you to the end of the world.”
Another day, sitting across from your boyfriend. Awkward breakfasts after petty arguments becoming a reoccurring problem. Quick glances at your phone screen as messages with hidden previews pop up. Suspicious looks thrown your way from across the table. Turning your phone face down, ignoring the rush of excitement bursting in your chest.
Jeno grinds hips against your ass, panted breaths sounding in your ear. Muffled dirty words egging your arousal on between gasps of air. Reminders of why you’re here. Why you beg and cry, everything that draws you back to this spot on his bed.
Jeno used to fuck you with love. Now he only fucks you to leave a space for himself. Intention full of cruelty and possession.
“You know why you keep coming back?” Jeno’s venomous tone rings through your ear. “You love my cock. You love me.”
Silence in response only infuriates him further. Shoving your upper half down on his bed. Pulling out to the tip, thrusting forward with enough force to knock you off your knees. Jeno’s hands straining around your hips, veins rippling up his forearms. He couldn’t leave marks, but he never cared. Driving his cock far deep into you was Jeno’s only concern. Filling and stretching you to a maddening space. Getting you to the point of a blubbering nasty mess. Crying and begging for him to cum inside so you could keep him with you.
Jeno harshly tugs you back, arching off his chest. Hand wrapped in your hair pulling your head to the side, neck on full display. Gliding between your walls with precision of a man who knows your body all too well. Demanding thrusts loudly clapping around his dimly lit room. Dizzying familiar feeling coiling between your bodies. Hot chest shoving against your sweating back with every consistent thrust. Jeno driving you to your breaking point.
It was wrong, but it was right. Cum spilling past your tightened walls, dripping down your trembling thighs. He always gave you so much. Fucked you to the brim, leaving you empty and full in different ways.
Jeno peppers languid drawn out kisses up your spine. Hot lips searing along your skin. Everything about him tugging at your conscious. Cock numbly pulsating in your wrecked core. Already planning your excuses for later….”work was exhausting, I need to sleep baby.”
Jeno reaches your ear, tongue licking up from your jaw. Catching your lobe with a mean suck. Spitting out vile words between sweet soft kisses- “You come back cause he’ll never fuck you like I fuck you.”
————————————————————————-
“You know I saw your ex-boyfriend yesterday.”
Your back stiffens on the metal chair. Sat outside the cafe your boyfriend suggested for breakfast today. Clicking your phone shut, eyes quickly reading Jeno’s text wishing he’d never fucked you in the first place.
“Oh..” you take interests in your coffee, stirring around the small silver spoon. Watching the white cream blend into dark brown.
“Can’t believe you dated that asshole Jeno for so long. What’d you even see in him?”
With a shrug you change the subject. No need to further threaten and upset your boyfriend over his alpha male superiority complex. Always texting you photos from Jeno’s socials of past times when you dated. Questioning why he hasn’t deleted or at least hid posts featuring you in them. You yourself could not pin point the answer to that question. Maybe Jeno was hopeful you’d end things and take him back, officially..
9 new text message waiting!
Jeno: “You know I didn’t mean that.”
Jeno: “Come over when he goes to work.”
You swipe past emails ignoring Jeno’s text message notifications popping up. Your boyfriend far too engrossed in his breakfast burrito to observe your body language. Caving when you see Jeno’s idea of an apology show up in the little bar at the top of your screen. You’d always be weak for him, that was the problem. Jeno wasn’t the problem, you were.
Jeno: “I’m serious. I need to be inside you.”
Jeno: “You say the nastiest shit in bed and it’s fucking awesome.”
a/n: omg is this a drabble🐒 heavily inspired: Heartbeat by Childish Gambino
☆ genre: smut, a bit of fluff at the end, bestfriend au
☆ word count: 1.6k+
☆ warnings: DNI MINORS, thigh riding, handjob, fingering, some pussy slapping???, alot of tongue action lol, kissing, cum eating, yeeaa gets pretty nasty, jus filfth, a lil dirty talk methinks????, oh yeah marijuana usage, they’re high!
YALL IM SO SORRY whats wrong w me… i said i’d post before work but i was in such a rush i forgot…. Anyways im off now so here it is.. SORRY 4 ANYONE WHO WAS WAITING! I hope u enjoy n feedback always appreciated <3
a/n: none of this is dubcon. don’t read if you skipped the intro please. Jeno was always going to stick it in the butt, get over it😙
Pacing around the parking lot, chewing at your fake nails wasn’t the best way to start your day. Anxiety had you awake most of the night rereading the note. You looked through every alphas employee profile once you arrived home. ‘J’ could be anyone.
Was it Jaemin? He was pretty weird already.. always watching you. Waiting for you to melt under his gaze. Turn you into a mess before even touching you.
Looking through each alphas resumes and accolades only stressed you further. Jungwoo.. Jaehyun.. Jeno.. even Xiaojun often went by ‘Jun’ around the office. It had to be Jaemin right? He was too strange, a sadists from miles away.
Ah but what could he want? The rules said no alpha may try to meet you in private. Everything had to be done in pairs to avoid feelings. The logic behind that made little to no sense to you. With a final glance at your wrist, it was time to head up the elevator, 7:59am. Two hours away from learning who ‘J’ could be and what he wants.
As soon as you enter the office, Xiaojun perks up. Beckoning you over with a snap of his fingers. A smaller alpha sat perched on his desks. Who you recognized now as Ten after hours of staring at every alpha profile.
“Our lovely omega whore.” Xiaojun laughs, pulling you between his legs. Hands squeezing your hips roughly. “I skipped breakfast today, just for you.”
Ten smiles at you kindly, fingers tickling along your exposed neck. Standing there like a doll letting them do whatever they wished for. That was your purpose here after all. Act as nothing but a mere hole to be used and abused willingly.
Xiaojun drags your skirt up, lips mumbling over your mound— “Alphas starving baby.”
——————————————————————————
It should have been enjoyable, sitting spread open on Xiaojun’s desk with his face buried between your thighs. He wasn’t hungry, he was starving. Ten even all the more pleasurable pressed against your back. Fingers tormenting your nipples till they were swollen, filled with blood. Breasts aching under his cruel tweaks and pinches. Both of them serving you different sensations from opposing ends. Typically enough to make you cum, but all you could concentrate on was the clock ticking. With each minute passing you only grew more distracted. 9:48am, you had to get this over with already.
“Alpha…ah…oh! I’m cu-cumming!” with a strong squeeze of your eyes. Neck loosened wailing out for the entire office to hear. Some alphas passing by, you jerk up. Hips rolling against Xiaojun’s mouth. Gripping a clump of hair, panting with extra exaggeration. You hiss through crunching teeth, pulling harder- “Ah, no more alpha! No more!!”
Xiaojun’s head lifts, wiping the mess you’ve left behind on his sleeve. With a wink and another kiss to your core, he sits up. Arms stretched out, neck popping side to side. “Better than coffee in the morning.”
Ten helps you adjusts back into your clothing, hands smoothing down any wrinkles in your bunched up blouse. Closing up just enough buttons to leave the majority of your chest exposed. “If only I didn’t have a meeting..”
9:57am
You drew up the fakest smile, the alpha leaving you with a whisper along your neck for ‘another time’. The clock ticks faster, 9:58am. Standing up from Xiaojun’s desk with a quick cordial bow, you thank the alphas. Turning away in no rush, acting as casual as possible. Passing your desk area, grabbing whatever folder was visible.
9:59am, each step toward the copy room felt like walking through quicksand. Feet heavily dragging across the floor. Deep breaths exhaling like loud speakers in your ears. Too many “what if’s” scattering your brain. The door handle even feeling hot to touch as you opened the door. Pressing against it with a swift turn inside. You let out a sigh of relief, relief for what still not sure. Laying back against the shut door, licking over your drying lips.
“You really do listen well.” That certainly was not Jaemin’s voice. A broad figure moving toward you from the dark corner.
Jeno.
One of the younger alphas. A very attractive alpha.. been with the company less than a year from what you recall reading. Finished his masters, top of his class, hired fresh out of school. Why would he..
“Enjoyed that little show you put on just now huh? Don’t you have any shame?” Jeno approaches in a few strides. The room small, suffocating. Lights turned off, large copy machine taking up most of the floor space.
“I…” your voice cracks, swallowing thickly. Jeno’s presence fierce, powerful. A natural alpha, commanding your attention in any room he steps into. “I don’t.. know what.. you mean alpha..”
Jeno huffs out full of sarcasm, hand lifting to your face. Instinctively flinching back in fear. Gentle fingers smoothing your hair, skimming down your jaw.
“So pretty and useless. Willing to sell yourself like a whore. Degrade yourself strutting around here covered in cum from who knows where. Any dick near you good enough huh?” Jeno inquires, slowly pulling apart the buttons of your blouse.
“Alpha… I don’t think we’re supposed to be alone like this.. I don’t want to risk my job..” you turn frantic. Stumbling words spilling out as Jeno shoves the top off yours arms. Falling behind your feet, cold shivers stroking at your spine against the metal door.
“Risk your job..” Jeno sneers. Hands feeling all over your heating skin. Taking time to memorize every dip and crevice, digging in where your stomach muscles sink. “Johnny’s stupid fucking rules. That bullshit excuse that only he gets to fuck you alone, because he’s mated. What a piece of shit.”
“That’s..” your voice lowers, mumbling under your breath. “None of my business..”
Jeno’s eyes lift in amazement, lips parting open in disbelief. “You have no morals do you?..”
Jeno’s head shakes, nose scrunching disdainfully. Forehead wrinkling with creases rethinking his choice of words. “It’s because you’re unmated. That has to be it. I knew unmated omegas could be sluts, but you’re something else aren’t you? I’ll fix that.”
“W-what…I….what are you saying?” Now your head shakes, growing more tired and confused. Jeno degrading you without stuffing you full of cock felt wrong- somehow.
“I’m telling you that I like you.” The alpha sneers. Hands grippping your hips.
“What??” Your shocked vocals sound around the small copy room. The alpha shushing you with three fingers against your lips.
“I said I like you and I’m tired of watching you fuck all of these other alphas.” Jeno dips in, fingers sliding away. Lips pressing against yours all too passionately. A kiss full of lust and.. love? Sending a message through meeting lips. Tongue asking for entrance instead of barging in. He was being too soft, it was disgusting. Mouth sucking your bottom lip, trying to make you feel it, absorb every sensation. You shove at his shoulders, arms flexing pushing Jeno’s much larger body off of you. Stepping back with a messy stumble. Glossed pink lips already swelling from the heated kiss.
“What?!” Jeno lunges forward, your back landing on the door with a bang. Hand finding it’s way through the back of your hair, gathering strands up in a fist. Harshly tugging your neck to the side with a nasty crack. “You’re going to make this difficult are you now omega? Are you that much of Johnny’s weak sniveling bitch already?”
“This isn’t allowed Jeno!” You snap back, hands slapping his clothed chest. Jeno growls deeply, tongue dragging up your scent gland. Mouth pressed on your ear, releasing his deep unforgiving alpha voice.
“I’ll teach you manners omega. Properly fuck you into submission. I’m your alpha, don’t ever call me by my name again slut.” Jeno’s teeth scrape your ear lobe. Rough harsh voice instantly turning your mind into a fogged up haze. Alpha voice on an omega was highly frowned upon by societal norms. Alphas ability to render omegas helpless, pitiful under their command seen as unjust. A move of a desperate alpha, an alpha willing to do anything to get what he wants. Too lost in the induced arousal, rules fuzzy and all too unclear now. “Get on your fucking knees. Stupid omega bitch.”
Pliant at Jeno’s will, falling to your knees so willingly. Alpha moving behind you on his, pulling your bottoms up with a mean slap across your ass. A surprised yelp jumping from your mouth, falling forward on your elbows. Cheek burning in a drag against the carpeted floor. Jeno leans in, nose inhaling your slick coated core. Face sucking in with disgust. “Dirty pussy smells like another alpha. Can’t have that now can I?”
You whimper out weakly, arms losing balance as loud smacks to your ass reach yours ears. Jeno’s strong hands hurt so painfully good. Stinging wounds surfacing over your skin with each land. “I’m sorry alpha!”
Jeno never stops using his alpha voice on you. You’d have been willing to let him use you regardless, that was your job after all. He left you with no choice either way. Cock hardening to full length with speed the more you caved to his words.
“You let Johnny fuck your ass?” Jeno’s thumb circles your rim. Spit dribbling from his lips at a slothful pace. Reaching your asshole, hot, turning you into a convulsing mess beneath him.
“No alpha… you, only you please!” tears rush to the rims of your eyes. Threatening to spill in any second. Wailing out when Jeno’s tongue licks a long stripe up your hole. Flicking around the sensitive skin turning you into a begging sloppy omega. Spatting out filthy words, fingers digging into the meat of your ass. Tongue working at your hole forcing it to relax and give. Finally able to press in, the ring of muscle, squeezing around him so deliciously. Fucking in and out of your asshole until you’re trembling.
“Alpha!! My alpha! Please please! Need you inside!” Jeno groans in your hole. Pathetic plea’s making his cock jump between his legs. Finger circling his tongue, prodding your entrance. Pulling his mouth away, shooting a large glob of spit. Finger pushing in earning a guttural whiny moan from you. Jeno quickly makes move, releasing his throbbing cock. Smearing precum around, gathering slick from your cunt with his other fingers. Pulling out, smearing your ass in the heavy amounts of liquid glow.
“Perfect little ass all for me. All for alpha, isn’t it?” Jeno grunts. Tip of his cock dipping inside your barely stretched hole. Knows you don’t have time to waste. Aware of the risk he’s taking right now, eyeing the minutes tick by on his wrist watch. Had no choice but to use his alpha voice, maybe not ideal- too late to have a conscious now.
“All yours alpha. Please need you to fuck me, pleaseee..” your voice breaks off in a high pitched moan. Jeno shoving in past your entrance. Screaming out curse through pursed lips. He leans over, large hand gripping the back of your neck. Cutting out any more shouted words that could get you caught.
“You’re so fucking tight. What the fuck. How’s a despicable whore like you so fucking tight!” Jeno’s eyes roll back exclaiming his words. Body draping over yours heavily. Sweat sucking off your skin into the fabric of your blouse. Memories of nearly busting the first minute he entered an omega rushing through his mind. Knew you were beyond perfect, made to be his omega and his alone.
Jeno’s balls slap against your core, entrance crying for attention. Hips rolling back, circling forward. Cock brushing against every crevice in your ass. Reaching far inside the depths of your body like nothing you’d ever experienced before. Choked sobs between deep inhales of air slipping from your spit slicked mouth. Cheek no doubt marked up by now the harder Jeno fucked your ass into the floor.
The stretch was overwhelming, drawing different, better, sensations from your gut. Spine tingling with every thrust inside, fat cock head hitting something so good.
“Jen…Jeno… oh please” your mind spins. Drunk off alpha cock, submitted to the voice used to bring you to this point. Dizzying heat taking over your body. Stomach spiraling from the pressure. Loud sounds of grunts, clothed hips meeting in rough snaps together. All of it weakening you, unable to even lift a finger.
“Alpha! I’m your fucking alpha!” Jeno loses it. Pistoning in all the way, pulling back into a brutal debilitating pace. Fucking you to form around his cock. Fingers dug in your jugular, cutting off your air passage. Choking breaths, hips pounding into your ass making your head so heavy. Hot face boiling, eyes rolled up from the pleasure surging inside.
“A..al..alpha..” you croak out. Completely under Jeno’s hold. Anything he wants from you, it’s all his. Your knees ache, cut up against the rug. Giving in with another powerful thrust from Jeno. Collapsing against the ground as Jeno chases his climax. Another look at the time- 10:47am. If he knotted you now, you’d be in here for another hour impaled off his girth.
“Fuck…ugh… fuck I’m…” veins on the sides of Jeno’s forehead pulsate. Ass clapping back against him so fucking good. Gliding into you with ease, slick dripping into the carpet below you. Your silent cry reaches his ears, like air kissing at his lobes. Hand finally letting go of your neck. Letting your broken sobs wash over him. Ass squeezing his length ferociously as you cum. Crying like a wallowing sad baby. Balls clenching up tightly, drilling past your clamped rim.
“That’s right! You. Fucking. Whore!..” A whimper escapes Jeno, pulling out against his will. Tugging at his cock vigorously, thumb rubbing his wet slit. Another cry falls from gritted teeth, tip plunging in your hole. Hot white ropes of cum painting your insides. Not how he’d wish to breed you, but something to pacify the urgent need that’s kept him on edge since your first day in the office.
He lays out on your back, panting against your ear. “You’re my mate.. I know you’re my mate.”
Mind clearing up for a moment post orgasm. Thoughts wrapped in Jeno’s noisy panting. He’s insane.. has to be insane. Tongue licking across your scent gland, drool covering the burning skin.
“Need to mark you.” You stiffen only momentarily at his words. Alpha voice returning your sense to a deluded submissive doll.
Jeno sits up, squeezing your ass open and shut. Watching his cum bubble over your swollen rim with satisfaction.
“No one will suspect a bite on your ass..” Jeno whispers. Hunching in, canines sinking into the perked mound of your meaty flesh. A trapped yelp travels to the back of your throat. Jeno slapping at your other cheek, digging teeth in further. Tongue lapping at droplets of blood dripping from the marks. “I’m gonna get you out of here. Both of us. You’re my omega. No one else can have you.”
——————————————————————————
Stumbling your way out of the copy room in search of your personal restroom. Another alpha snatches you up before you can reach the door. The smile on Jaemin’s face one of a villain. Bile and evil, sadism on full display. Fingers trace dried tear streaks down your burning cheeks. Eyes shining in a terrifying type of victory. The alpha pinches your chin between two fingers forcing you to keep your eyes placed on him.
His other hand finds space between your thighs. Timidly you swallow, fingers swiping past your slit. Jaemin’s eyes never leave yours. Curiosity peaking his interest as fingers feel between your folds.
“He didn’t breed you huh?” He questions with a lifted brow. Circling your entrance, one finger slipping in past your neglected needy hole. Eliciting a moan to draw from your swollen lips. Corners of his mouth taunt you in a small lift. “Tell me the truth. Did Jeno fuck your filthy used omega pussy full of cum?”
With an immediate shake of your head clearly expressing ‘no’, his finger leaves your core. A groveling whimper flowing from your mouth as each inch exits. Jaemin’s smirk turning full size the more pathetic you become. The alphas thigh budges your legs further apart. Hand scooping past your center, reaching between your spreading ass. With a soft release of shaky breath, cum spills from your asshole. Jaemin’s expression changing into something or annoyance when it hits his hand.
“He took your ass?..” he quips, brows furrowing. Defintion of his jaw becoming more pronounced. Finger diving into your abused used rim. A louder dry tearful cry passing through the air surrounding you both. His mouth shifting to one side in thought. Circling around inside your tender hole for a minute. Slipping out with a lewd wet pop echoing throughout the hallway, no alpha seems to linger around- except Jaemin.
“Whatever his reasons were don’t matter anyway.” Jaemin lifts his hand. Disgust twitching at his nose. Jeno’s cum shining on his palm as office lights reflect above. “Either way, he broke the rules. Ah….Jeno. Stupid stupid Jeno..”
Your head shakes again, this time in desperation. Sick urge to protect the alpha… your? Alpha- bursting hotly inside you. You begin to stutter, teeth chattering with every word—“He didn’t! It’s…it…I…my..f-faul…”
“Don’t lie..” Jaemin steps further in. Feet stepping backward until your back meets wall. His head ducked lower, half lidded eyes glinting with warning. “The punishments much worse when you lie little omega.”
“P-pun-punish? P-punishment??” he’s turned you into stuttering mess. Intimidating you with little to no effort. Your figure cowering, head lowering further to meet yours. Eyes burning into yours hard enough to draw fresh tears back up.
“That’s what happens when you break rules puppy.” His hand pets you, emphasizing the magnitude of his words. “Just like when your new puppy won’t stop pissing everywhere, and you have to make them look at it. Sniff it until they learn that’s what bad puppies do. We have rules here for a reason. Do you break rules, puppy?”
“N-no….alpha..no..” vehemently shaking your head, shaking all over. Jaemin’s aura striking a nerve. Stomach quivering as tears find way to your chin again.
“Good puppy.”
—————————————————————————-
“Ah Jeno..” Johnny lifts his glasses, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. The start of a headache inducing topic already wearing him down. “Why can’t you all ever just stick to the rules. We have these rules for a reason.”
“I can handle it boss” Jaemin sits across from him in the large leather seat before his desk. Silver handcuffs shining as he spins them around a finger noisily.
“He’s your best friend.. I wouldn’t feel right making you do this.” Johnny rests against his seat. Looking Jaemin in the eyes. Suspecting he may be offering his service to let Jeno off easily.
“That’s why it’s only right if I do this. Jeno and I always say- anyone can stab you in the back. Only a real friend will stab you in the front, face to face.” Jaemin smiles to himself. Unlocking the handcuffs, excitement surging through his thoughts. “I’d expect the same of him if I was in his shoes.”
“That’s an interesting take..” Johnny sighs out loud thinking it over. “I have to deal with his leave of absence and HR. He didn’t technically break more than one rule. Breeding her would have led to termination.”
“He’s not as dumb as he looks” Jaemin shrugs in response. “Let me handle this boss. You have enough on your plate already.”
“Floors all yours” Johnny leans over his desk. Fingers tapping the wood with intent. Eyes shrinking into a hateful glare. “Make him suffer.”
2nd a/n: this was pwop but you know what- I got bored🙄 I guess I like plot😒 this piece is my smutty experiment, I don’t want to get bored! the ending of this story came to me the other day and- now I’m more motivated to continue.
Warnings: established relationship, pet/kitten play, use of the terms ‘kitty’ and ‘kitten’, kink discussion, anal play, sub space?, Jeno flips from soft and hard dom pretty frequently, and just the usual stuff (afraid to say anything too descriptive don’t wanna get flagged :/)
Note: please let me know if there are any typos or just awkward sentences. I’m trying to get better at editing but I read so fast I can miss things.
“Why does he treat you like that?”
“Like what?”
“Like you’re a cat?”
It was one of the few times you felt yourself physically freeze frame. Your body still curled awkwardly as Mark had decided to drop the question on you right as you were adjusting after Jeno had gotten up to grab a charger from his room. His words ran circles around your mind over and over until they connected enough for you to throw a confused and unflattering look at the boy sitting across from you.
“Mark what are you even on about?” you finally cough out as you settle back into the couch, your shoulders shimmying down until they were sunk into the soft fabric and a content huff leaving you before you speak again.
“You think Jeno treats me like a cat?” it’s more a question to the universe, slipping from your mouth out of pure bewilderment as to how he could have come to such a thought.
“I mean yeah, are you like being purposefully dense and ignoring it or are you just that oblivious to how your own boyfriend treats you,” he scoffs, and is clearly just messing with you, but you can’t help but pout at his choice of words, “I mean I always knew Jeno would be cute and fluffy when he got into a relationship but he literally treats you like you’re his newborn kitten.”
“I don’t know Mark, maybe you’re just a freak and you’re projecting what you want to see,” you shrug and grin at him in such a petulant and condescending way that he can't help but scrunch his face up the exact same way to throw back.
“Anyways,” you start, your voice lower to a mutter as you hear the creek of Jeno’s bedroom door reopening and his socked feet shuffling back towards you two, “Jeno doesn’t treat me any other way than the way he’s supposed to, which is like the human being I am, duh.”
-
-
You’re sure Mark would have had another snarky comment to throw your way if it wouldn’t have been for the man in question landing roughly with a grunt next to you, his shoulder pressing tightly against your own as he mirrors the way you sit.
“What are you two talking about?” he asks innocently, glancing over at the phone you hold in your hand and grinning when all he sees is a photo of you two that you use as your lock screen.
“Nothing important,” you answer before Mark can, afraid that if he had the gall to ask you such a weirdo question, that he definitely would not have hesitated with Jeno.
“Hmm boring,” he teases, gently jabbing you in the side with the sharp bone of his elbow, “hey, let’s go to the room, I wanna take a nap.”
He’s standing before you can respond, and you slowly begin to sit up, letting your stiff muscles stretch out before you stand. For someone who claims to needing to be unconscious, Jeno starts to bounce slightly where he stands, clearly eager for you to follow him to the room he just got out of, and it’s in you watching him with endearment that you notice he didn’t even bother grabbing the charger.
“Come on, the longer you take the less time we have to nap,” he finally reaches out in impatience, and instead of reaching for your hand as you assumed he would, his fingers land on the soft skin on the underside of your chin. Again, you’d stiffen, thankfully this time though it reads as just you continuing to stretch because as soon as you do, Jeno begins gently scratching at the delicate skin and playfully cooing at you.
You hate two things. One, you hate how the action fills your belly with butterflies and makes your heart start to pick up as you lean into him. Something about his habit of petting at you always got you all swirly, pulling you soft and making you slightly dizzy and warm, but this happening now in front of Mark leads you to the second thing you hate.
You hate that after your eyes flutter closed as you’re put slightly in a trance, they snap open and quickly dart over to where Mark sits. The bastard in question is looking at his phone, but the evil grin he wears and the way his ears seem more perked than usual, you know he’s mentally swimming in a pool of self proclaimed victory.
“Okay let’s go,” you say, your voice a bit shaky and rushed as you stand on wobbly legs. Your hand wraps tightly around his wrist, tugging it down so his arm falls back to his side, and all you can do to mask the weirdly rough action is by pushing his shoulders to turn him towards the room and forcing him to walk, “I’m sleepy now too.”
A lie. That’s exactly what that was. You were the opposite of sleepy at what just happened among you, a boy who was just proven perfectly right, and another boy who was just grinning with oblivion. You weren’t sure if the small flare of anger you felt towards Mark was fully warranted, but you felt it regardless, and just from pure spite of being proved wrong with just one little action you throw a stern middle finger to the boy who’s desperately trying to muffle a laugh into his hand and start to weakly tell yourself that what had conspired was just a interestingly timed coincidence.
Even with the repeating mantra you’ve stuck in your mind of ‘it was just a fluke, Jeno doesn’t treat you like a cat,’ you had to admit your ego was just a bit bruised. And this bruising you took showed through in your actions probably a bit more than you intended as you toss yourself into the softness of his mattress and bedding with a whiny huff.
Jeno seems to hear your theatrics even with his back turned towards you, his quiet but entertained chuckle shaking his shoulders as he stands slumped over, working on lighting the candle he knew smelled the best to you and connecting his now charging phone to the bluetooth speaker to play the playlist he had so meticulously put together for the times like this. The quiet but heavy bass that spills from the speakers is enough to make you sink into the the pillow that's drenched in the smell of him, and you can feel the adrenaline spike you had felt subsiding and letting your eyes get droopy, but it all only adds to the pout that’s glued to your face.
You learn that this is the face you’re sporting when he turns back to you and his eyebrows immediately stitch together with concern, “heeeeey,” he draws the word out as he climbs on to the bed and begins to crawl towards you, sinking down into the sheets himself and curling his arms around your frame to pull you into his chest.
“What’s with the sour look, my pouty baby,” you don’t absolutely love how condescending the words would have sounded out of context, but the way he says it, the way he holds you and brushes his fingers across the bridge of your nose and swell of your cheekbone and presses his mouth against your forehead, has you melting into him. Your arms winding around his waist and your legs tangle up with his, and if he wasn’t expecting an explanation for your huffy mood, you could have easily closed your eyes and passed out against his chest within seconds.
“Mark is a dweeb,” it's all you can think to say, the insult carrying zero venom behind it and only makes the chest below you shake with amusement.
“That he is,” Jeno coolly agrees, sinking deeper into the bed as he anticipates the exaggerated story of whatever happened between you and his friend while he wasn’t in the room, his eyes sliding shut before he speaks again, “but what could he have done to pull such harsh words from such a sweet little thing like you hm?”
You almost scoff at his words, because you and him both know that you had every capability of not being his sweet little thing, but you're too loopy from the comforting environment around you, that your mind can’t help but turn mushy as you play along.
“You’re also a dweeb,” you say, remembering that while Mark was the one that brought it up, Jeno was the one who fucked around and gave him proof only moments after his claim.
Jeno involuntarily lets out a jumbled sound of confusion and his eyes shoot back open, an amused but slightly baffled laugh coming out as a rush of air from his nose and he’s reaching to pinch the shell of your ear in faux offense.
“What did I do to be a dweeb? I’m just sitting here.”
“Sitting here now yeah,” you prop up on your elbow next to him, his arms still holding tightly around you to not let you move too far from him, “but earlier when you left Mark decided to mouth off and say you treat me like a stinkin’ cat or something.”
“Stinking? Hey, you like cats!”
You ignore his comment, and the fact that that was the most important part of the sentence to him for whatever reason, and continue, “and it that wasn’t bad enough, then you waltz in and start scratching at my chin and baby talking me, and you just made him think he was right or something.”
You land back onto his chest with a sigh and scowl, reaching over to pinch his bicep to punctuate your grumpiness. The yelp you let out when he grabs at your waist in retaliation only makes him laugh more and you grimace harder.
“You like when I scratch at your chin,” he says with so much sureness and pride it makes you feel very seen even if he is your boyfriend, “I can tell, you turn into this little puddle of jelly and I’m surprised you don’t start purring sometimes.”
“Hey-“ you try to sit up again, but he tightens his hold to keep you against him, and he keeps speaking.
“Anyways what does it matter what someone else thinks of our relationship,” he speaks with such an assured tone it calms you down if only a little, “and even if I do treat you like a cat, I still treat you well.”
He mutters the second part in a way that emulates the intention of you not hearing, but he wanted you to hear perfectly clear, and that you did. If it wasn’t for the strong hold he has on you, you would have most likely tried to sit up again, but all you can do is crawl up his chest until your face is right in front of his own. The tip of your nose pressing into his own and your legs shifting to straddle on each side of him as you stare down at him suspiciously.
“Are you admitting that you treat me like a cat right now?” you ask him, desperately trying to not lose your stern glare as his eyes cross slightly in such a cute way that it makes your chest warm and your throat tighten, “please tell me you’re not saying Mark was right because I don’t know if I can take that.”
“Can’t take what? Being wrong for once?” you collapse back into his body, your face smashing into the pillow beside his head, using the fabric to muffle the long and whiny cry of his name you let out.
His arms curl tightly around you, taking you into a hug that’s tighter than he’s probably aware of and knocking the wind from you as he sways you side to side.
“I’m sorry, you’re just my little kitty, I can’t help it,” he finally admits in a singing tone. The truth in the air as he admits that, yes Mark was right, your boyfriend treats you like a cat, and he apparently does it with complete awareness as well.
“Okay but you could have at least told me that that’s what you were doing,” now you’re just pulling at straws trying to find something to whine about, because realistically if he is treating you like he would a cat, it’s not that you dislike it. Jeno, from day one, had been your dream boy. He treated you like a perfect gentleman when you first started being around one another, and as feelings started to develop the only thing that really changed was he had gotten more comfortable and more playful with you.
You do admit that now that you’re aware of this view he has of you, you do see the little things that have come along with it.
Jeno praises you for even the smallest of things, his eyes lighting up just as much as your own when you accomplish something and feel pride within yourself. His hand was practically glued to the top of your head because of this, petting you gently as he tells you how smart and good you are at the things you do.
His love for the chokers you like to wear makes a bit more sense now. As well as the way he likes to tease you by dangling the things you want above your face until you reach to grab them. And even what you’re doing now, curling around him to take a nap almost every time you spend time with him. You always wrote it off as him being a textbook Taurus, but now you realize you get droopy eyed and dreamy almost as soon as you enter the warm atmosphere of his room and anytime he pairs it with scratching at your scalp and back, it surprises you sometimes that you don’t just start drooling in happiness.
The final realization you make is more embarrassing, but now you see how far his treatment bleeds. His praise doesn’t stop once you’re behind closed doors, almost getting more frequent as he calls you his perfect little angel any chance he gets whether you’re pleasing him or receiving pleasure yourself. You had definitely noticed how heated and prideful he gets when you get on your knees to crawl to him or look up at him with shining eyes when you kneel between his legs. And you would have to be just totally and willfully ignorant to not notice his love for having your face pressed into the sheets and your back curved almost painfully as he keeps your ass high in the air and pressed against his crotch.
As you reminisce you find that the only thing you disliked about this realization is the fact that you have to admit Mark was right, because everything else to you were things you loved. You just wished you had known sooner.
“How deep does this even go?” you ask, partially to him and partially to yourself as he turns to his side and pulls you to his chest like a stuffed toy, “like is it just habits or do you really like to look at me like I’m a cat?”
He at least has the decency to look sheepish at your questioning, his ears warming until they burn a bright red and his lips curling in between his teeth as his thoughts begin to almost visibly swirl in his brain.
“I know you’re not a cat,” he starts, as if you genuinely needed that as a reassurance, “but, I don’t know. I love cats, and you're so cute and soft just like one, I couldn’t help but want to treat you like my little baby. I just want to take care of you and dote on you every time I see you and god when you look at me with those pretty eyes…”
You don’t have time to worry about whether or not he can hear or even feel the way your heart thuds against your chest with every quickened beat, all you can do as he babbles on is curl into him and try to not start vibrating with excitement and happiness from how cute he could be.
“I’d lock you in this room if I could,” he admits, and the soft tone he holds somehow makes what he said one of the least intimidating things you’ve heard in your life as he slides his warm hands up the back of your shirt, “just keep you here as my little pet. Have you all warm and happy for me to come home to every day, and just pamper and love you all the time.”
“Jenooo,” you quietly howl, nuzzling your face into the bend of his shoulder, your lips trailing over the skin with kisses and nips.
“And god I’d just make you come until you couldn’t even think, just my mindless little pet.”
“Jeno!” you yelp in shock, the adrenaline that runs back through you as his words string together in your mind has you shooting up again, your eyes wild in surprise at such a scandalous thought coming from your sweet and golden hearted boyfriend.
“What?” he matches your tone almost perfectly, pulling you back to his chest one last time with a devilish grin.
“So its a sex thing too?”
“Of course its a sex thing,” he says as if its the most obvious thing in the world, his confidence slowly wearing off when the realization of the situation finally starts to hit him, and the next thing he says is tinged in an apologetic and worried tone, “I mean unless you don’t want it to be. Fuck, actually forget I said any of that, I understand if you’re not into it like that, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or anything. It’s just… I don’t know, I know it’s not something that everyone is really into so just pretend I didn’t bring it up.”
You unfortunately don’t have the capacity to tell him to calm down, instead you have to use his panicked rambling to think. Think about what he just admitted, and this whole fantasy that, from the way he worded it, seemed to be something he’s thought about in depth. Obviously staying locked in his room wasn’t realistic, you had to be a functioning human outside of your relationship, but playing the part wouldn’t hurt in the slightest would it? You already admitted to yourself that you liked the nonsexual aspect of the scenario, what would stop you from liking it when you take it a step further?
“I don’t want to forget it,” you finally cut into his stressed mumbling, moving your hands to thread your fingers through his hair and press your mouth to the beauty mark that rests beneath his eye, “that’s probably the last thing I want to forget right now actually. You’ll just have to explain it a little more for me and I'm down for anything, well I mean I am after we take that nap.“
The way his shoulders slouch in relief, and the smile that spreads across his pretty face makes your belly warm and your pattering heart happy. And as he pulls the blanket over your shoulders and brings you in to use his shoulder as a pillow, you can’t help but think maybe being his “little kitty” won’t be bad at all.
——
Every time a new package came, Jeno would tell you.
You’d get a text along the lines of ‘guess what just came?’ followed by a few silly cat emojis but you could never fully guess. You knew it was all pertaining to the conversation you had had that day, and the conversation that followed when you two had woken up. You already had established safe words and hard passes when you first started fooling around, so there wasn’t a whole lot more for him to tell you except that he wanted you to have a few pretty things to add to the fantasy. And with the fact that you trusted him with your life and then some, you didn’t feel the need to ask many further questions.
He said he’d take care of the preparations himself, and all you had to do was “stay pretty and do what you’re told.” And to you, that seemed easy enough.
So when the last package arrived, he told you, and surprisingly, you felt slightly more lost than you did in the beginning. Okay, he has everything he needs, so now what? It just happens or?
The answer was no. You saw him again, and again, and again, and nothing happened. Well, nothing in the sense of you playing kitten, aside from how he already treats you, but you fooled around and he made you come more times than you could probably count. But ultimately you saw nothing of what he has been ordering in the past few weeks.
It wasn’t until you two decided to have a night in.
The other boys had their own things to do, leaving you alone and at peace to do whatever you two pleased. And logically, it was a perfect time to delve into Jeno’s newly announced interest, but at this point it had almost completely slipped your mind.
The last package had arrived at least two weeks ago at this point, so Jeno no longer had a way to drop little reminders, and honestly that’s probably the way he wanted it. Your ability to look a little vulnerable, ditzy and lost was something you knew got him going, a desire to corrupt and defile you when you’re oh so willing hiding well behind his kind eyes, but you could see it clear as day, even if no one else could.
And you were about as oblivious as you could get at the moment, sitting on the edge of his bed, humming and toeing off your shoes as you scroll mindlessly through your phone. His back once again turned towards you as he lights the wick on a warm and woodsy candle and clicks on a new playlist he had been secretly crafting for the past few days.
You were again under the impression that in the next few minutes, the only thing you two would be getting up to would be a nice cuddly nap, your body already melting and getting pliant as you lean further and further back until your flush against his blankets and wrapped in the smell of his cologne, detergent, and skin. You were only about three posts deep into twitter when your lost the last bit of strength in your hand and your phone was landing with a thump against the mattress, your eyes fluttering closed soon after as you soak up the atmosphere of the room you’ve come to love so much.
Not even the feeling of his calloused hands wrapping around the soft skin of your thighs was enough to stir you from your relaxed state, the only sign of life you grant him is the small hum of content you let out from the back of your throat when his fingers knead at the tense muscle and start to travel upwards.
Your thighs part with little to no thought. Your legs falling open to let his hips press towards you, your sock clad feet locking behind him when he's close enough for your taste. He curves his fingers around the back of your thighs to fold you and bring himself closer, and once you're wrapped around him in a way that can only be described as koala-like, his hands move to trail up your sides towards your ribs that expand and collapse with every one of your deep breaths.
“Hmm you’re so warm,” he finally speaks as he presses his nose into the dip below your jaw, your arms crawling and winding around his wide shoulders as you hum again in response and your spine arches closer to his chest, “all warm and soft and pretty. My perfect little kitten.”
The last word that leaves his lips makes your whole body tense, your eyelashes fluttering rapidly as your eyes decide whether or not they want to pop open. You try to form a response in your mind, something coherent and well thought as to not let him know how easy he’s gotten you flustered, but as your head tilts and your neck curves as a result of his lips and tongue mapping across the burning skin of your throat, you accept that you’re fighting a losing battle when he begins to speak again.
“If you’re not in the mood I get it,” he actions contradict his words though as he teeth sink into the sensitive skin pulled over your jugular, and the shiver that rocks through your body is most likely enough to prove that you in fact are, “but I can’t pretend that I’m not impatient as hell to see you in what I got.”
“You’re the one who’s been avoiding it,” you remind, laughing quietly and squirming around when he starts to playfully nip at you and even letting out a small growling groan.
“I’m… nervous,” he finally admits, his voice hushed and shy in a way that makes your
heart flutter in your chest hard enough that you’re sure he can feel it with him pressed against you, “all this had been mostly just in theory, I’ve never really had the right person or opportunity to put it into practice. I don’t want to scare you off.”
“You’re not going to scare me off,” you lay out immediately, wanting zero confusion or miscommunication between you, “I’d be lying if I said I haven’t been bouncing off the walls thinking about it since you first brought it up, and you can trust me to speak up if I’m not loving what’s happening.”
“Fucking thank god,” he huff a warm breath of air against you neck, making you twitch and sigh, his hands moving almost immediately after to slip under your shirt at push at the fabric until it bunches under your armpits, “you have no idea how long ive been wanting to get you all dressed up and pretty for me.”
He pushes himself up after a particularly harsh bite to the side of your neck, and his hold on your shirt forces you to sit up with him as he tugs it up and over your head, the sound of it landing on the floor behind him is an unceremonious flop.
“Take your pants and underwear off for me please,” he asks in such a polite tone that one could assume he was asking you a completely different question, but you comply regardless with a smile.
He has a moment of pause when you remove you fabric from your chest, his mind momentarily blanking when he takes in the sight of your bare chest, before he shakes himself out of his stupor and turns to walk to his closet. Once he has it open and is kneeling down to dig around in the things he has cluttered on its floor, you catch a glimpse of a small black box that you’ve never seen before.
You finally tear your eyes away from him to tug at both the shorts and pair of underwear you wear until they fall to a pile around your ankles, your hand quickly dipping between your thighs as you step out of them to see that he did in fact get you slightly wet just from his work against your neck and you can’t help the way your chest warms in anticipation for what he could do to you next.
“Hey,” his fingers are rough as they wrap around your wrist, tugging at your wandering hand with a grunt and push to get you seated back on the bed, “I didn’t say you could start causing trouble did I? We’ve barely gotten started.”
You throw him a pouty frown and watch the hand that moves away once you comply to him join the other in digging through the matte black box that now sits on the far corner of the bed, your curiosity gnawing at you as he mentally debates on what thing to pull out first.
“Last chance to back out,” he mutters only barely audible as he’s become almost totally confident that you’re just as ready as him.
He glances over in expectation though when you fail to respond, his eyebrow tugging up and his eyes so dark you can't help but pull your knees closer to curl into yourself with shyness. All you can do in response is quickly nod and lean closer to where he stands until his face smooths back into his soft and reassuring smile.
“First thing,” he starts, pulling the first item from the box. Its base is a thin headband, clearly made to stay snug against your skull, and on top are two identical fluffy fabric cat ears. The majority of them are made from soft white fur, the inside a light baby pink and they have small bows and ribbons that decorate both sides of each ear. They look as if they fit into the palm of your hand and you can't even for a second imagine how cute they look resting on your head.
You’re not given the time to imagine though, as after a quick glance of an examination, Jeno is moving to stand in front of your again and guiding you to sit up straight in front of him, your back aching just the smallest amount as you try to sit up nice and straight for him with a soft smile and eager eyes.
“There,” he murmurs to himself along with a some other words you can’t make out, as he places the ears as gently on your head as humanly possible, making sure they sit perfectly straight and flatter you the exact way he knows you would like, “now would you look at that. You’re somehow a million times prettier than I could ever imagine.”
His hands smooth over the back of your head until the rest folded together at the base of your skull, his praising words making your chest tighten and your thighs tighten as the doting shoots straight to your warming belly. The way he holds you forces your head to tilt back and use his fingers as a head rest as you look up at him with shining eyes and it takes everything in your soul to not whimper out when he says ‘my pretty little kitten.’ But all hope is lost when his thumbs curve around and dig into the bone of your jaw.
You feel every last ounce of air escape your lungs when he leans down and presses his mouth against yours. Your body has a mind of its own as he pushes his tongue into the space of your mouth, moving to sit on your knees to get just the smallest amount closer to his rough lips as your hands grab at his wrists in a desperate attempt to gain some stability.
The way his tongue swipes against your own has a bead of drool slipping down your chin and your arousal mirrors it as you create a mess against the inside of your thighs. Your eyes are shut so tight you fear that it might bring on a headache, but you can’t do anything but make that a problem for future you as current you is much too invested in getting every flavor of him imprinted on your tongue for the rest of your life.
It's not until you start to feel the smallest amount light headed do you realize his thumbs have started to push into the arteries on both sides of your neck, blocking the blood flow to your head to make you more malleable in his hold.
The only reason you are able to take gasping breaths in his hold is the way he pulls away to bite and tug on your bottom lip and drag the tip of his tongue across your cheek and across your jaw, and its in this moment you know he’s just as addicted to the taste of you as you are to him.
There’s so much hesitation in his movements when he finally pulls away, taking a few failed attempts of ‘one last kiss’ before he gains enough self control to return to the box that still sits open next to you, and the way you somehow find a way to remain sitting perfectly and patient with your hands now folded in your lap and your newly adorned kitten ears has him wondering how he doesn’t come in his jeans right then and there.
“Next,” he says, his voice clearly shaken and airy with only just one word. His patience has clearly dwindled now as his shaky hands pull the next object from the box and immediately stands to hold it directly in your line of vision.
Its the same baby pink as the inside of your ears, a collar a little under an inch wide and decorated with what looks like small diamonds. It’s so pretty it could easily pass as just a lovely little choker if it wasn’t for the threaded clasp and the perfectly polished heart shaped tag that has been lovingly engraved with the name of the boy that stands in front of you now.
“You already know you’re mine right?” it’s a question that is as rhetorical as it could get, cause you and him both know that you’ve belonged to one another since day one, “but now you have this. Just to make it a little more official.”
You tilt your head immediately and without question to help him thread it around your neck, his fingers dipping underneath after it’s been clasped on to make sure it’s not too snug and shifting it around until the name tag dangles perfectly in the center of your neck.
He takes a step back once it's perfect, his shoulders sinking slightly and his head slowly shaking as he looks at you in disbelief. His eyes are wide and curious and they dart around every inch of your form and you almost feel like he can see everything from your physical being all the way down to your soul.
“Do you have any idea how perfect you are,” he asks, reaching forward to take your chin between his index finger’s knuckle and thumb, using the strength of the digits to tilt your head side to side, “a perfect little angel. All for me to play with and destroy aren’t ya?”
You don’t stop the whine that leaves you this time, instead pairing it with pleading and watery eyes as you wrap both hands tightly around his wrist again and using his slight shock to guide his thumb between your lips and laving over it with your curling tongue.
“Fuck,” he curses louder than you know he intended, his lips curling in between his teeth as he tries to pull himself back to earth before he throws his entire plan out the window and just runs you into the mattress without a second thought, “now don’t go trying to start something before I finish my work you little brat.”
His tone doesn’t hold any of the malice that he had probably intended, and when he finally tugs his hand from your greedy mouth and lands a gentle but stinging smack to the side of your face you can only grin in a devious wave of victory.
You watch in a confused curiosity when he steps away and bypasses the box at your side, instead he walks to the other side of his bed towards the small table he has to house all his little things. And with a strained neck and furrowed brow, you don’t even have time to question what he’s up to before he’s reaching in and pulling out a familiar small clear bottle.
He pays you and your curiously scrunched face no mind as he makes a stop at the box to pull out what looks like just a thick rope of the same fur fabric that rests on your head, and when he steps back in front of you and you see the small metal bulb that is attached to the end do you connect what he holds.
Its not that you never done anything relating to anal play in your life, especially when it came to being with Jeno. His hands were more than guilty to go wandering, and when you never felt the need to protest it became more common than not that he ended up playing with more of your body than you had ever anticipated, but you’d be a fool to deny him or complain.
So no, the addition of the toy he holds now shouldn’t be a total surprise, you knew such things existed way before now but never really thought about having one used on you until now. And you can’t say you aren’t more than a little excited.
“Can you lie on your stomach for me, kitten?” He asks in a way that means what he said literally but also a way of asking if you’re still on board with what's happening.
You shift off your knees, landing leaning on your hip and hand with a heavy sigh and smile. The desperate need you have to tease him is more than evident in the way your eyes glitter and he can only stand in bewilderment at how he found someone as perfect as you.
You turn slowly, turning your head quickly to keep your eyes locked with his, before you’re bowing your chest to the bed and curving your back down until your belly rests flat against the blankets and your feet are swinging sweetly in the air in a way that you know will drive him wild.
He growls at the new sight your slightly parted thighs give his hungry eyes, the glittering wetness that coats your skin makes his mouth water and his patience shrink thinner and thinner.
He does it without thinking, placing the plug and bottle of lube down next to your twitchy form before he’s climbing onto the bed to loom over you and out of your field of vision.
You don’t have time to question him again before he’s leaning down and latching his mouth to one of your shoulder blade with a harsh and burning bite to distract you from his hands wrapping around your hips to pull your bare ass tight against his jean clad crotch, the scrape of the denim against your skin making you push back against him in a desperate search for friction.
He all but devours the skin of your back and neck, leaving burning and bruising skin everywhere his rough teeth touch. And he shows no intent on letting up on the damage he does to your skin until he’s pulled back and licking at the dimples in your lower back.
You feel your face warm in embarrassment when he grabs at the flesh of your ass and pulls you open for his eyes to examine. The way he just stares and uses his hold on you to move your hips side to side makes you squirm and whine, but he shows no interest in giving you any sympathy.
You hear him spit vulgarly before you feel it, his saliva landing just below your tailbone and slipping down in a way that makes you shiver in his hold. He wastes no time before he’s dipping his thumb into the puddle he’s created on you before pressing the digit into you and forcing a gasp from your throat.
“Shhh,” he lets out the shushing sound with a proud and evil grin, his free hand moving to smooth up your spine and force you harder against the mattress, “nothing you’re not used to, so be a good kitty and take it.”
You petulantly thrash on the bed, pressing back against him once again, only to earn a cracking smack against the back of your thigh and a dark laugh from your usually sweet and loving boyfriend.
You let out another whine when he pulls his hands away, but knowing better than to move from your position, so all you can do is pout and wait.
The cracking pop of the bottle's lid as he opens it has your belly drawing in along with your other muscles tensing in anticipation. The lube is cool when it touches your skin, making you jump just the smallest bit and pulling a gasp from your chest. It joins his spit that remains on your skin, and before you have time to collect your thoughts, you can feel the metal plug begin to prod at you.
“Can I have a color?” he says the words less like a question and more of a command, and before you can fully run the entire scenario through your brain, you feel your body pressing into him as you whine out the word ‘green.’
He hums in appreciation, his free hand going to run comfortingly up and down your back once again before he starts to slowly push the toy inside.
The first hint of stretch is smooth but still makes you gasp and turns your breathing labored. He’s teasing as he eases it in, pressing it about halfway before twisting it and pulling it back out only to repeat the process again and again.
You can feel tears welling up in your eyes. The process isn’t painful, but it’s definitely foreign. But it’s foreign in a way that you know that you’ll enjoy it and most likely ask for it again in the near future and you just wish he’d get on with it right now.
“Jeno, please,” if he couldn’t see the tears that had started to gather along your waterline, he could definitely hear it in your voice. The way you speak, your voice cracked and broken as you speak the only words your foggy brain you form and the way he only laughs and repeats his process in response makes your vision start to blur.
“You act like you can’t take some teasing, we both know you're stronger than this,” he clicks his tongue in faux disappointment, before leaning over to press a kiss against your ear, “but since you asked so politely.”
You take the opportunity of him being pressed against you now to lay your head back against his shoulder as he pushes the plug all the way in. Aside from one or two of his wandering fingers, this is the first time you’ve been so full like this and you’d be lying to say you didn’t like it and it wasn’t making your brain turn to swirls.
With both hands free now, he reaches around your torso to pull your back flush against his chest, his other hand moving to wrap around your exposed throat, his index and middle finger subtly slipping under the collar on your neck to check the tightness one more time.
“Now you’re all ready,” he mutters in your ear, his voice dropping octaves lower than his usual as he speaks and it only adds to waves that crash at your core. Your thighs clamp together violently, giving you a lot less relief than the action usually does now with a toy seated inside you, but you can’t stop the subconscious action, “a perfectly made up little kitten just for me to play with hm?”
All you can offer in response is clinging hands that grab onto his forearms as he squeezes once again at your bruising throat and a long whine of his name as you squirm in his hold, you feel like you’re going delirious from every touch he lays against your skin and you can think of anything else but the need for release.
“You’ve been such a good kitty for me, you always are,” his praise goes straight to your gut the way it always does, but it feels like this time your senses have been turned up a million notches. And when he reaches up to harshly pinch one of your nipples between strong and unforgiving fingers all you can do in response is sob, “it’s time for a little treat don’t you think?”
You nod frantically, using as much mobility that you can with his hand still holding you tight, and the way he kisses your temple and nuzzles into the side of your face makes you feel like you’re being the perfect angel just for him.
You’re thankful for the bed in front of you, as when he suddenly lets go of you completely, you crash weakly onto the mattress. Your nails scrape at the blankets as you try to sit up, and once you’re again leaning awkwardly against one hip to avoid torturing yourself with pushing on the plug more than necessary, you see that he’s moved to sit propped up against the headboard.
“Come here my little kitten,” he follows the words with a patronizing clicking of his tongue and his fingers reaching out to coax you towards him. You feel your head tilt just slightly to the side without thinking and you swear the wind is knocked from his chest as he witnesses the movement, “c’mon, stop being so cute and come sit with me.”
You tentatively move to your hands and knees, making long and slow strides to move the small space between you. He meets you halfway with an outstretched hand and you lean the side of your face into his palm without a second thought.
The moment you get to him, you curl into his chest with a content sigh. Your face pushes into the side of his neck and his other arm winds around your shoulders as his thumb brushes over your cheekbone.
“You’d stay like this all day if I’d let you wouldnt you?” he rhetorically asks, smiling into the kiss he places on your forehead when you purr in confirmation, “I’d let you if you weren’t driving me wild right now.”
And he does let you, probably for a moment longer than he had initially planned, but he’s basking in the comforting warmth of your bare body curled into his with so much security, just about as much as you are, and it takes all his willpower to urge you into the position that he wants.
“Turn around for me little one,” he speaks so softly but commanding in a way that makes your body shift without any thought, his hands shifting around your body to help and guide you until your leaning back into his chest, the brush of the fuzzy ears on your head when they touch his chin and cheek making a wide smile take over his face.
After pushing his hand under you to adjust the tail, he pulls your legs to lay over his bent knees, laying you open and spread to his burning hands as they smooth across your chest and down your belly.
He quietly shushes and clicks his tongue at you as you tense and grumble at his touch, your hips tilting up towards his fingers as the tips of them push into your flesh.
His hands bypass the place you’d like them the most, moving instead to squeeze and knead at the taut muscle of your thighs. He bites gently at your neck as he starts to tease you, moving his palms along your skin but stopping just short of dipping into your arousal.
You feel like your patience is wearing thin as his right hand moves back up towards your chest, brushing and circling his fingers over your nipples just slightly, enough to make you thump the base of your skull against his shoulder.
You small tantrum is cut short though, when he wraps his fingers around your throat again, using the hold he has on your neck to turn you head to face him, his soft smile and the glittering look he holds in his eyes makes you pout almost immediately, hoping to exploit the soft nature he’s taken on for once.
He ignores your puppy eyed pout, instead he digs his thumb and index finger harshly under your jaw and tilts your head at the perfect angle to press his mouth against yours.
He licks slowly at your lips, his tongue just barely dipping past your teeth when his head tilts and moves and the teasing action makes a small bead of saliva roll down the center of your chin.
You’ve lost the sense of focus you had on his free and still moving hand as he deprives you of a deeper kiss, and it’s too late to gather your bearings before he’s sinking his ring and middle fingers deep into your entrance, coating them in your dripping arousal.
The sudden intrusion, and the way he curls the digits into the spot that makes your belly fill with writhing nerves, makes you gasp loudly into his mouth. The sound escapes at full volume, regardless of his lips smothering over your own, but is quickly interrupted when he takes advantage of your agape mouth and pushes his tongue inside.
He shows no interest in allowing you a moment to adjust, his wrist moving quickly to thrust his fingers into you deep and fast. You feel the muscles of his arm tense tighter as it’s wrapped around your shoulder, his grip on your neck becoming tighter to keep you flush and close to him as you start to squirm at the sudden pleasure that rips up your spine. The muscles of his thighs are doing the same as they work to keep your thighs open wide as they desperately try to shut around his hand.
The amount of pleasure you feel in such a short period is overwhelming, and you can feel tears welling up on your waterline as your toes curl almost painfully.
Once he’s satisfied with how drenched your body has made his fingers, he drags them up and out until they completely cover your swollen clit. Your body flutters and clenches at the sudden emptiness he leaves in you, and when he pulls his mouth away from yours to bite at the shell of your ear the sounds you’ve been holding back come spilling out in the form of delirious gibberish.
The feeling of your first orgasm comes on too fast as his fingers take on the same speed as they circle over your clit, and the way you yelp and swear makes that more than evident to the boy that is pressed into your back, but he shows no intention of slowing his movements. He only half heartedly shushes you and kisses your temple as he pinches the hypersensitive nerves between his calloused fingers.
You feel your chest start to burn as if you’ve been overcome with a fever, your throat feeling dry and scratchy from the way he tightens his fist around your neck and the broken cries that crawl out of your mouth. Your eyes feel blurry from the way his hold manipulates the blood flow to your head, and in a desperate attempt to ground yourself on one thing, you notice that the nails of your right hand are sunk deep into the flesh of his forearm, and your left had reached up to fist tightly at the hair on the back of his head. If any of the ways you hold onto Jeno cause him any discomfort, he shows no evidence of it, and you're thankful for this as you're not sure you could have let go if you had even wanted to.
When it hits you, your orgasm feels overwhelming. With your thighs unable to shut in the way your muscles beg for, your left open to his unrelenting hand as he keeps moving his fingers against you to prolong the borderline painful feeling. The muscles of your stomach flex, you whole being trying to curl into itself as you whimper and moan in his hold, and from the soft smile and quiet incoherent words he murmurs in your ear, you can tell he enjoys every second of it.
His fingers slow, still keeping a steady pace as the roll against you but not enough to overwhelm you anymore. The fingers on his other hand follow suit as the loosen the hold on you, and the feeling of the sudden head rush you get makes a shiver rock your entire body and gives you a momentary drunk feeling.
He finally pulls away from the space between your thighs to curl his arm underneath your bending knees as you finally gather the mobility to pull them together and towards your chest, and with his words of praise still coming out like a broken faucet, you return to your earlier curled up position against his chest.
“You have no idea how much you’re driving me crazy right now,” he admits with a deep sigh while pushing his nose against your temple to nuzzle and kiss at you as if he hadn’t just had full control over your body moments ago.
“Me driving you insane?” you ask with as much attitude as you can muster as your eyes flutter closed and you rest against his chest, “I feel like I just got off a train that was going a thousand miles a minute.”
He laughs quietly, running his still damp fingers against your bottom lip before you take them into your mouth to suck on like a pacifier.
There’s a moment of calm as you lay against one another, your breathing settling as you keep his fingers pressed comfortingly against your tongue, when he finally speaks again.
“Can I have a color?” he asks cautiously, and you're surprised you hear him in your tired state.
Your eyelashes flutter against your cheeks as your brain processes the question and its meaning, before they snap open. Its now you notice the way he presses hard and warm against the underside of your thigh, his chest heaving slightly from his lack of relief and your heartbeat picks up again at the idea of what he could do to you after such an intense but short moment.
“Green,” you answer quickly, but the way your thighs clamp shoots a spark of aftershocks up your spine and you notice that your legs are still shaky, “but like a green with just the smallest amount of yellow in it. I want to be able to walk tomorrow.”
He laughs again, murmuring about how he loves you and will take care of you as his hands knead your tensed muscles and move you until you're lying flat on your back and staring up at the ceiling.
You can hear the shuffling of his clothes as he undresses, and even though watching him undress is one of your preferred past times, you can't muster the strength to sit up to sneak a glance. Instead, when you hear the metallic clank of his belt hitting the floor, you reach out your hands with a needy whine as you wordlessly beg for his touch.
“My poor little baby,” he mocks, but the tone he uses warms your heart too much for you to complain. And when he starts to sink his hips between your open thighs, scolding him is the last of your concerns.
You feel his damp tip bump against the inside of your thigh, his precome smearing against your clammy skin and makes your brain start to run every memory it holds of the feeling of him coming inside of you all at once.
He doesn’t have a chance to pull a cheesy line when your eyes lock and his chest presses against your own, because the second you have sight of him again you attach your mouth against his. Biting harshly at his bottom lip as your legs and arms curl around him and trap him against you the way he did to you.
“Hey,” he playfully yelps when you move to roll your tongue over his adam’s apple, your teeth following immediately after as you try to litter his skin with deep bruises, “just because you're playing kitten tonight doesn’t mean you have to bite like one.”
“Yes it does,” you take just a beat to respond, your voice drenched in sass and petulance, before you solidify your response with a particularly harsh bite to the skin of his jaw.
“This and the damage you did to my arm kitten, you're about to make me look like I was attacked by an alley cat.”
“You’re the one who wanted to treat me like a cat in the first place mister, so don’t act surprised that I’m giving you what you want.”
“Okay now you want to act like a brat,” he rolls his eyes playfully before he reaches to grab your wrists and pushes them into the mattress by your head, “then I’ll just fuck you like a brat okay?”
He lets go of one of your wrists to reach between your bodies, his fingers dipping into you again quickly to gather your arousal, before he’s wrapping his fist around himself and tugging a few times before he’s pressing into you only an inch.
He hesitates moving any further until his hand is back to pinning your wrist down, and regardless of the ache between your thighs and in your muscles, you start to push your hips and tighten your legs to pull him closer.
“You are unbelievable,” he says in awe, his words tense though as he now speaks between clenched teeth. His eyes scan over your entire face, darting to the ears that still sit snugly on your head and the collar that decorates the delicate skin of your neck. He looks so hungry as he stares down at you, you’re surprised he doesn’t start drooling, and its not until you whine and clench around him does he snap back.
All he does is hum, pushing his face into the dip of your shoulder to lick and kiss along the top of the collar as he finally starts sinking slowly into you inch by inch.
The plug sitting in you makes the stretch of him feel so foreign regardless of how many times he’s done it, and your head digs into the sheets as you moan and pant at the pleasure the combination causes in your gut.
The hold he has on your wrists is short lived when he starts rocking his hips against you. His strong but tentative fingers crawl up your wrist and palms until they start to thread with yours, and when he’s properly holding both of your hands in his, you swear the fluttering of your heart and the blossom of pleasure in your belly meet in the middle and make you see stars.
Your brain is mush at this point, and all you can see, feel, and think about is the boy that’s pressed against you. Your legs tighten around him again and again as your muscles work with a mind of their own and try to get him as close to you as humanly possible. And when you hike your thighs up on his hips at just the right angle, that his lower belly digs into your clit, you shake against him.
Your hips don’t have full mobility with how close he lays against you, but that doesn’t stop them from rocking up and trying to meet his deep and slow thrusts. The way his length drags against your walls makes you feel like you're falling apart as he’s sinking into your skin, and when you taste the promise of your incoming orgasm on the back of your tongue, you think there’s nothing more that you love than being his little kitten.
His thrusts get sloppier as you flutter around him, his thrusts slowly just the smallest amount from how tight you’ve clamped around him, and a deep growling grown leaves his chest when he feels your back arch with the beginnings of you coming.
Your nails dig into the backs of his hands as overwhelming pleasure runs up your spine. Your mouth feels dry and the arches of your feet ache again with your toes curling for the second time. You can feel your eyes fluttering wildly and your head even begins to ache slightly at how far your eyes roll back into your skull. It feels like you’ve been washed with a heavy wave of water that pulls the air from your lungs, but it feels and smells like the familiarity of your loving boyfriend, so every second of it feels like heaven.
You’re still weak and your muscles lax when you feel his hands slip from yours to grab onto your hips. His fingers are rougher than he probably intended as he turns you over and onto your stomach, but the relief of sinking your face into the warm blankets is enough for you to brush off any harshness.
You can only gasp and whine when he sinks back into you, his pace quicker than you’re sure you can handle as he chases his high, but when he pulls the tail that connects to the plug in you to lay into across the curve of your ass and lower back and it’s tugging hits you with enough stimulation to make you push back into him, you’re sure you’d take anything he’d give. Today and any day.
His hands push into the small of your back, keeping you curved perfectly to plague your body with aftershocks of pleasure as he gets closer and closer to the edge.
He almost collapses into you when it happens. His teeth latching back onto the same spot on your shoulder blade as earlier, and the feeling of him filling your body to the brim and the deep growl he lets out around the mouthful he has of your flesh has you coming weakly around him in response.
You shake against each other as he calms and turns to his side, pulling you with him as he fears pulling out too soon would disrupt the moment for the both of you.
You’re sure you’re half asleep, or maybe half dead at this point, when he starts to sit up and adjust your rag doll-like body. The feeling of him slipping himself from your body makes you hiss and groan, and you're halfway through turning into a more comfortable position when you feel that the plug that still rests in you hinders you from getting full relief.
He pushes you onto your stomach for the last time, kissing the deep bite marks he's left in your skin as he carefully pulls the toy from your body.
Once you're empty, he leans down to press his mouth against your tailbone in appreciation as his hand kneads gently at your hip and thigh, before he moves back to the box that still, surprisingly, sits at the foot of the bed. Once the toy is wiped with one of the baby wipes he keeps in the mysteriously large box, he puts it away and returns to your side.
“Come on,” his hands curl under your ribs as he pulls you to stand on shaky legs, the proud grin he wears from the way he’s worn out your entire being would be visible from miles away, and if you had any strength left in your arms, you’d probably smack him.
You groan in protest uselessly, him being much stronger than you at this moment and the need to get cleaned up being just as strong as him. But with the ears and collar still decorating you from the neck up, you can't help but still want to hold onto the petulant attitude they instilled on you.
“Come on my little sex kitten. You were so amazing for me, the most you can do is let me pamper and clean you up.”
“Can we nap afterward?” Your words slur more than you thought they would, but with the inability to keep your eyes even the smallest amount open, you can’t say you're surprised.
“Of course,” he replies in disbelief and with an endeared laugh as he walks you to the shower as he messes with the clasp on your collar, “sleep the day away if you want my little kitty.”
⇢ Synopsis: You and Haechan have been enemies ever since highschool, when debates between you in class would get heated. Now, you’re in a sorority and he’s in your brother frat, NCT House. Trivia nights are supposed to be fun at the campus bar but you and Haechan always take it personally, and your friends see the the sexual tension, even if you and Haechan don’t. Johnny and Jaehyun concoct plans to force you and Haechan interact, frat boys lie, and even if Haechan gets you on your back, you’re never going to stop calling him the nickname he hates so much: “baby face”.
⇢ Pairing: frat!Haechan x fem!reader
⇢ Genre: smut, comedy, slow burn
⇢ Warnings: lots of competition, high key GAMER HYUCK, dom leaning switch Haechan, oral (f/r receiving), pet names, slight degradation, angst, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it ya’ll), fingering, BIG DICK HAECHAN, dumbification, body worship, he reffers to himself as daddy once or twice, etc..
⇢ Word Count: 14.4k
⇢ Tropes/AU’s: frat nct, enemies to lovers, childhood enemies, etc…
Frat NCT Au Masterlist HERE
“So then we get back to his room-”
“Is he still rooming with Johnny?”
“Yeah!”
“Fuck, I’d climb that guy like a tree.”
“I know right? But we get back there, and he throws me on the bed-”
You close your book loudly with a sigh, drawing the eyes of your sorority sisters who hadn’t even noticed you sitting in the living room by the window, the drapes half obscuring you and shutting you in with the beautiful morning sunlight- which you had been enjoying.
“Oh, hi Y/N.” One says awkwardly.
The man they’re talking about is Lee Donghyuck, notorious roommate of Johnny Suh and renowned “lady killer” of the frat system. Almost as well known as his reputation, or yours for that matter, is the fact that you both hate each other- and you have since high school, where you made a point to personally pick fights with each other in debate team.
“Don’t let me stop the story.” you wave your hand as you head towards the stairs leading up to the second floor of your sorority house, “Ryujin told me her version of it last Saturday,” you wink at the two girls, “and I hear the ending where he kicks you out at two am before Johnny gets home is the best part.”
Fucking Lee Donghyuck, you think to yourself as you head up to your bedroom. When are the girls in your sorority ever going to learn that he’s the worst of the worst?
Desperate. That’s how you felt. Insane, hungry, however you called it. Your blood was rushing red and hot in your veins, fingers unable to sit still, twitching ever so often with the overwhelming urge to just curl around his dark locks.
Your eyes flit down to Yunho’s thighs, bouncing every now and then out of pure boredom, his fingers tapping on the fabric of the couch’s armrests. His eyes roam around the room in search of something, anything to catch his attention. Then they land on you, perched on top of a kitchen stool, elbows leaned against the marble island and eyes trained on his bouncing leg.
The dark haired man raises a brow at you, one that you don’t seem to catch sight of since you’re too busy ogling his firm thighs. Your lips part to release a small whimper as your thoughts wander into r rated territory. Such as setting yourself on top of his thick, muscular thighs and fuck yourself dumb on them. Rubbing your cunt all over the fabric of his cargo pants and soaking them with your juices.
You find yourself regretting it when you pretend to be sick to avoid your chores.
Dom!Jaemin x Sub!Female Reader
Rating: 18+
Content: use of a sex toy, daddy kink, humiliation, implied-ish dacryphilia, implied overstimulation, light praising, degradation, slight bimbofication, bratty reader in the beginning, established relationship
Disclaimer: None of this writing depicts real life/reality and is strictly a work of fiction.
[5:45 p.m.]
Jaemin wasn't happy, but he wasn't livid either. He was rather just very disappointed at your sudden change in attitude. Snapping at him when he asked what you wanted for dinner was the final straw after a slew of disrespectful acts that you pulled.
For most of the week you'd been ignoring him, displaying a permanent sour expression on your face.
"What the fuck's gotten into you?" He angrily confronted. His brows knit in pure frustration, tension rising as he stood parallel to your sitting form. With your arms crossed and your feet planted on the coffee table, you rolled your eyes.
"I already told you, I'm sick," you grumbled.
With that, Jaemin scoffed. "We went to the doctor three times, and we even checked with another one and they both said you're better. Don't pull that bullshit with me, Y/N."
The apartment was filled with pregnant silence as you struggled to find the words to reply. You knew he knew that you were lying through your teeth, and you just wanted to get out of doing your share of chores for awhile. The knowledge of your boyfriend being able to look past your antics had you bottled up with annoyance, so you opted to ignore him.
Now, when he looked down at you as he waited for a response, shame grew in your chest.
"Well?" He asked.
But your pride prevailed in this battle.
"Can you just fuck off?"
Guilt arose in your haughty form as you were confronted by Jaemin's blank face. In a flash, you were suddenly hoisted up from the couch, and it dawned on you that you pushed it too far.
You sniffled, shaking on the cold wooden floor of your bedroom as you left a puddle of your juices beneath you. "D—ah, daddy please, turn it off!" You sobbed.
Jaemin observed as you shook pathetically, whining with tears as the toy vibrated in your cunt and mercilessly sucked on your clit. He sat at the edge of the bed, his pants tightening with every plea you cried out. You'd came twice prior, and he wasn't planning on making you stop anytime soon unless you uttered the safeword.
"All of this because you didn't wanna do your chores—don't like doing anything? Well, if you want me, you gotta do some work."
Tears continued pouring down your cheeks at his cruel tone. Your boyfriend was relaxed, quite opposite to how you were at the moment. His jet black hair only accentuated the sinister smile glued to his face as he watched you fix yourself on all fours. You began crawling across the room, shaking like a leaf. It felt like eternity as you struggled to move, stopping in your tracks every so often as the sensation spiked.
"C'mon baby, you can do it—crawl to daddy... show me how good my little whore can be," he taunted. In return, you shook your head with a pout.
"Daddy, please, please, please—turn it off... I-I won't misbehave, ah! I won't... I won't disres—"
You paused in between your begs, mouth agape and allowing drool to escape to the floor.
"'Lost your words, sweetheart?" He cooed in fake pity. "You had a lot of words to say to me before—too dumb to think of anything when you're cumming all over the floor like a little slut. When daddy says to crawl, you do it. I'm not repeating myself again," he said, glowering.
A wave of embarrassment washed over you as you nodded, pitifully continuing your movements. Your boyfriend's face softened when you finally reached his legs, feeble fingers gripping his knees. Your face immediately collapsed into his familiar hands, jerking in his touch when you finally came again.
Jaemin ran his fingers through your hair, massaging your scalp thoroughly and tugging at the roots. "There's my girl... my baby's such a hard worker..." he hummed.
You could only let out a dazed whimper, head still lacking the capacity to utter any words. Using his stable arms, he hiked you onto his lap and tugged the toy out. Underneath the façade of the tender smile he gave, you knew he had other intentions.
Your boyfriend planted benign kisses all over your face before landing a final one on your lips. Soon after, he lightly smushed your cheeks in his hand, the sinister expression melting into place again. "Gonna cum all over my fingers for me?"
"Yes, daddy..." you mumbled.
He gave you one last chuckle before sliding his digits into your abused cunt, instantly soaking them in the process.
