cw. this post contains dark topics, reader discretion is advised. stepbrother!jeongin, dub/noncon (sort of... they're a mess), infidelity, jeongin has a big dick wc. 1800 minors dni.
note. the first drabble for my 7k event is here! using the prompts #56 "is this turning you on? that's disgusting", #71 "aww, it's too big? better get used to it then" & #73 "what would your boyfriend think if he could see you like this?"
the house is quiet.
it's well past midnight; two cancelled subways derailed your hopes of an easy ride home. you should probably avoid waking your family — avoid waking him —, but you ran out of patience long ago.
you can't wait to go back to campus after summer. you miss being able to walk around your own place carefree, even if you share it with your roommate. she's staying with her girlfriend most of the time anyway, and anything's better than… whatever this is.
the clasp on your left heel is stuck and you struggle to get it off, nearly toppling over in the process, when the overhead light flicks on. you hiss and squint against the brightness.
a dim figure comes into focus as your eyes adjust. you'd recognize the outline of those shoulders anywhere. you ignore him, feebly tugging at the strap and nearly snapping the leather.
jeongin leans against the doorframe, watching you fumble, a lazy smirk plastered on his face.
you curse and kick the other shoe into a corner.
"rough night?" jeongin asks, though you know it isn't a question. he takes in your mussed state, sharp eyes catching your swollen lips and the faint red smudges on your cheek.
"let me guess. he's got you all worked up again and then… nothing."
you swallow. you hate how he doesn't need to say his name to make you feel a twang of disappointment in the pit of your stomach. hate how easily he reads you. but the worst part is how your body reacts to the sound of his voice; to the low, confident tone which has become so familiar. inescapable.
there's the echo of all the things he's said to you: whispers, demands, orders, pleas. the sounds that never leave your mind.
it annoys you how he's always all up in your business like he owns you.
you move to push past him but his hand settles on your waist. it isn't forceful; just firm enough to stop you in your tracks.
"jeongin," you warn.
"what? i'm not touching you like that. not again. not unless you ask." his thumb strokes over your hip, mocking your restraint. "but i do wonder what your boyfriend would think if he could see you like this."
your pulse quickens. "like what?"
"like you know i would never leave you unsatisfied."
heat floods your chest and creeps up your neck. somehow, you two being the same age made things worse. there was no older brother and younger sister, or vice versa. no one to look up to. no one to take care of. just plain old sibling rivalry mixed with something undefined, something unnamed that should've stayed buried.
you wish you could say he was the one who'd unearthed it, but you weren't so sure.
"come, or you'll wake mum and dad."
he wraps his arm around your waist to steady you and guides you to your room. it feels ridiculous, letting him lead you like this, one foot still heeled and the other on your tiptoes.
he nudges you backward until your knees hit the edge of your bed. "sit," he says.
you do. too quickly. the glint in his eyes tells you he noticed, and your face starts burning again.
jeongin sinks to his knees in front of you, slow enough for the heat to spread through your whole body. his slender fingers loosen the strap on your remaining heel and he takes his time gently lifting it off. then his fingers are tracing up your calf, your knee, the inside of your thigh, and you can't stop your hips from twitching.
he chuckles. "is this turning you on? that's disgusting."
there's warmth laced in his mocking tone. he loves how disgusting you are — and he loves being the cause of it.
you try to close your legs but he catches your knee with casual, surprising strength.
"relax," he soothes. "i'm just checking something."
his hand slips higher now, brushing the edge of your clothes. testing the boundary between what you'll permit and what you'll beg him for.
when he finds it — the damp heat of your panties — he groans softly.
"so he really didn't take care of you." his thumb presses lightly and you gasp. "figures."
you bite your lip in an attempt to stay quiet. he leans in closer, lips brushing your knee as he speaks. "i told you to stop letting him disappoint you."
"please…" you say, not sure what you're asking for exactly.
"let me show you how it's supposed to feel."
he touches with more certainty now, and when he slips two fingers past your entrance you jolt forward, grabbing his shoulder for balance.
"he got you nice and ready, though," he grins. "or is all this for me?"
you avert your eyes. he doesn't need to hear the truth from your mouth. there's no need for words anyway; he already knows.
"we're just playing. it's not like we're having sex." he curls his fingers, drawing another involuntary moan from you. "besides, you love my hands. i always catch you looking at them when you think no one's paying attention."
his thumb toys with your swollen clit, fingers pressing in deep until your legs start trembling. then he pulls away. you whine as he teases your hole, running the back of his knuckles over your slit, kissing the inside of your knee before standing up and stripping himself of his clothes.
"don't you want to have fun? it'll feel good, i promise." he's still grinning, looking almost innocent with his bright smile and crinkled eyes despite the hard lines of his body.
he's changed so much since the first day you met. he's grown from a lanky teen into this man your friends fawn over. you can't pinpoint the exact moment it happened — all you know is he was your annoying brother one day, and then suddenly the tension shifted into something unspeakable.
you've seen him naked before. seen his cock. you've touched it once, felt the weight of it in your palm. dreamed about the taste of it on your lips. but now, standing before you, he feels too real. the veins on his forearms. the trimmed patch of dark hair leading up to his bellybutton. the citrus-y scent of his body wash, the one you lie about stealing all the time.
he helps you out of your dress until you're left in only your flimsy lace bra and panties. he hovers above you and strokes his cock over your clothed slit, groaning low and rough, and you commit the sound to memory; file it away in the mental collection of things you touch yourself to.
his gaze drops down to the mess between your legs — precum soiling your soaked panties, the outline of your pussy visible through the sheer white lace, lips already puffy and sensitive.
it feels so good in every way it shouldn't. the weight of him on top of you, his arm trapped between your bodies and guiding his tip against your clit with every jerk of his hips. you barely notice him slipping underneath your panties until the soft skin of his cock touches your mound.
then his hips pull back and forward again, cock sliding down and pressing against your hole.
"jeong — n-no!" your eyes widen in panic. up until now you've been able to pretend — to lie to yourself — that none of this counts. it's not real sex when it's just wandering hands and mouths. when it's just make-believe, the two of you playing, not fucking.
but nothing prepared you for the way his cock throbs against your cunt. your core clenches, begging for him.
he backs off and relief washes over you. it's short lived, however, because on the next stroke you feel that same pressure again, your body already starting to open up for him.
"stop, w-we can't," you plead. "what if they hear us?"
it's a stupid excuse, and you know it. jeongin pauses and shakes his head.
"dad went out late, came home a little before you did, drunk off his ass as usual. he won't even hear you scream," he chuckles, and you don't know if his words are reassurance or a threat. "didn't you hear him when you came in? there's no way your mom isn't wearing her earplugs. he snores like a lion."
you're reminded of your earlier conversation, when he'd warned you about waking your parents. the stillness. the soft buzz of the hallway light.
you're not sure what to believe anymore.
"come on, sis," his smile widens as your expression sours at the word, "stop pretending you don't want this."
he kisses your open mouth, feels your arch up into him in response. the subtle tilt of your hips chasing his. he presses in deeper, the stretch making you gasp against his lips.
he laughs. "guess that answers it."
your hands fly to his shoulders. he's much bigger than anyone you've taken before, and he seems to be aware of it: taking his time to push in inch by inch, relishing in the way your cunt flutters around him.
"shit, you're tiny."
you frown, trying to breathe through the feeling. "'s not me, it's you."
jeongin shakes his head, but there's a faint smile around his lips. "so argumentative." he grabs your wrists and pins them above your head. "always needing to have the last word."
he pulls back, waits for you to gather your thoughts — and slams into you the moment your mouth opens, knocking the air out of your lungs.
"not today, though. all the sounds you'll make will be mine."
your own voice is distant to your ears. you hear yourself plead, mumbling something between moans. you've never felt this full — never thought it could feel like this, somewhere on the border of pain and pleasure and burning shame.
"aww, it's too big? better get used to it then." he mocks. "i'll work you open every day until my cock's all your pussy remembers."
you know he'll deliver on his promise. there's no going back now, not when he's fucking you deeper into the mattress with every thrust.
but the worst part is the familiarity of it. how, despite his tight grip and taunting words, you know he needs this as much as you do.
"j-jeongin…" your voice breaks, and he releases your wrists, wraps his hands around the back of your thighs instead. presses them up against your chest. there's an urgency to his movements now, sweat beading on his forehead.
"that's it. come on, let go for me."
his mouth find yours and you fall apart, giving him every sound he works out of you.
"now," he says, kissing the salt off your cheeks as he slows down to let you breathe, "tell me again how he's good enough for you?"
