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⟢ make me feel better with love .ᐟ
juhan’s voice is low, smooth like the drag of silk across skin- and just as cold. his fingers tangle in your hair, guiding you down until your lips barely graze the head of his cock, already flushed and heavy with weight.
“you wanted to learn,” he says, tilting your chin up with two fingers until your gaze meets his. “so pay attention.”
you try, but everything’s so much. his scent, his heat, the way he barely holds back the sounds you know would ruin you if he let them slip. you wrap your lips around him, nervous, unsure, and his grip in your hair tightens immediately.
“too soft,” he murmurs, leaning forward slightly. “it’s like you’re scared of it. again.”
you do it again. firmer this time. he hums in approval, hips rolling forward the slightest inch- just enough to make you whimper around him. he laughs. laughs, like he hasn’t just short-circuited your brain with a single motion.
“there you go. learning quick,” he praises, tone mockingly sweet. “guess you’re not completely useless.”
you whine as he uses your mouth like it’s his, dragging you deeper, forcing you to feel how thick he is on your tongue- how no one else will ever compare. his free hand cradles your cheek, thumb brushing just below your eye as you struggle to take him, teary and overwhelmed.
he’s been trying to be patient.
he really has. guiding your mouth with a firm hand, correcting every messy lick and lazy suck with sharp words and tighter grips in your hair. every time you do it wrong, he makes you start over- slower, deeper, with your eyes on his the whole time.
and you try. god, you try so hard. tongue flat, jaw relaxed, throat open just like he taught you. he even praises you a little when you get it right.
but it still isn’t enough.
“you’re too fucking slow,” he growls suddenly, pulling you off with a harsh tug to your hair. “still thinking too much. still trying to please me instead of just letting me use you.”
you try to correct it, desperate to satisfy him, but your jaw’s already starting to ache and your rhythm falters. he hisses, more annoyed now than anything else, and pulls you off again with a wet pop.
then- smack. not hard enough to really hurt, but sharp enough to sting. a quick slap to your cheek, just enough to make you gasp and freeze in place.
“behave,” he mutters, cupping your jaw after like he didn’t just slap you. his thumb runs over the spot he hit, slow and possessive.
you whimper, breathless and drooling, lips red and swollen. but there’s no space for pleading, not when he grabs your face in both hands and angles it just right.
“sit up. we’re trying again,” he says, guiding you back down.
your tongue starts to move again, mimicking what he taught you- wide at the base, circling the head at the top. you hollow your cheeks, use your hands the way he showed you. and when you finally manage to take him halfway without choking, you feel his grip loosen just a little, his hips twitch just slightly forward.
“see?” he mutters, breath hitching. “knew you could learn. just needed a little discipline.”
but it’s still not enough.
he pulls you off once more, spit connecting your swollen lips to his cock, and looks down at you with narrowed eyes and a twitch in his jaw.
“not good enough,” he mutters. “guess i’ll have to do it myself.”
before you can respond, he grabs you by the hair and shoves you back down- no warning, no patience this time. his cock hits the back of your throat, and you gag, hands flying up to grab his thighs, but he doesn’t let up.
he’s face fucking you now, unrelenting, using your mouth like it’s a toy made for him. each thrust is rough and calculated. not enough to hurt, but enough to tell you who’s in control. tears spill freely now, and he moans when he sees them, head tilting back just slightly before locking eyes with you again.
“look at you,” he groans, voice rough with pleasure. “that’s what your mouth is for.”
you whimper, drool pooling at the corners of your mouth, slick running down your thighs from how desperate he’s made you.
“gonna ruin you,” he pants. “gonna have this mouth trained perfect, baby. so even thinking about someone else won’t do shit for you.”
he pulls out with a gasp, fist stroking his cock fast as he looks down at your flushed face, chest heaving. “open up, dollface.”
hot, sticky ropes land across your chest- your collarbones, your tits, even your throat- and he watches every second of it, gaze dark and satisfied as your chest rises and falls under the weight of it all.
he exhales slowly, still holding your chin as you try to catch your breath, lips parted and trembling. and he leans in just enough to tap his thumb against your wet bottom lip.
your eyes wide slightly, but he tilts your chin up with two fingers, calm and commanding.
“you made a mess,” he says, voice low and taunting. “use that mouth and fix it.”
you swallow hard. then, obediently, slowly, you lower your head. tongue flicking out first, tentative, tasting the salt of him on your collarbone. he watches like it’s a performance, eyes fixed, arms crossed as you drag your tongue up the curve of your chest, collecting everything you can reach.
“no hands,” he adds lazily, just as you start to move your hands to lift your tits. “only that pretty little mouth you’re so desperate to prove useful.”
you nod and keep going- shaky, half-dazed, licking up every drop like it’s the most natural thing in the world. your cheeks flush deeper with every swipe of your tongue, humiliated but burning for his approval.
he reaches down, brushes your hair from your face, and lifts your chin once more when you’ve finally cleaned the last bit within your reach off your skin.
he looks at you. ruined. panting. tongue peeking out like you’re begging for more.
“better,” he murmurs. “maybe next time you’ll earn it in your mouth.”
