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raspberriesoda · 4 hours

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round & round! ★ [ l.dh ]

{💭} hyuck : i suggested playing spin the bottle because i wanted to kiss you, but now everyone’s kissing you except me :/

[☆] pairing. haechan x reader, slight jaemin x reader ft. 00’ line, chaewon of lesserafim and sieun of stayc

[☆] genre. smut + fluff | stoner!nct, pwp bc it’s me

[☆] wc. 6.1k

[☆] warnings. explicit content (mdni), weed/marijuana use, lots of making out, slight choking, dirty talk, fingering, sexual stuff in a semi-public place, use of the word ‘slut’, very slight degradation, not very proofread, pretty tame tbh

[☆] notes. my first time writing again in like??? two years???? istg i didn’t mean to abandon this acc 😞 pls be nice i haven’t written in a while and this is not my most favourite work but i’m warming up for more stuff in da future i just wanted to post a lil self-indulgent smth abt hyuck bc bf☝️ idk how active i’ll be because of uni and other things but i missed u guys!!! any feedback is appreciated enjoy :p

even through the clouds of smoke engulfing the little living room of jeno and jaemin’s shared flat, your hooded eyes still met.

today was an important day amongst your friend group; it was chaewon’s first time smoking up with everyone. your friends weren’t really the type to pressure anyone into doing anything they weren’t sure about, but considering the astounding majority who enjoyed smoking some variation of weed, group sessions were a frequent occurrence. you either joined in or didn’t, chaewon being the latter until she decided of her own accord that she was going to try it with the people she trusted.

you sesh with jeno most often, seeing as he was the one who introduced you to weed and taught you everything you know about it. after weeks of listening to you complain about sleepless nights, jeno suggested you try smoking a joint before you go to bed, especially since it was starting to affect your attendance. (“i can’t keep attending these zoology classes without you, y/n. every time something stupid happens, i laugh and make a joke out loud because i forget you aren’t there, and now i’m pretty sure people think i’m either insane or just really fucking lonely”.)

now, smoking up has been a pretty regular occurrence, especially since jeno introduced you to a bunch of his friends and vice versa, all of you making up one big, happy group of stoners. chaewon and sieun were your friends who got along with everyone else just fine, and though they didn’t hang out with the others as much as you did, they were still welcome whenever.

presently, you are leaning back against the couch, all the way on the end, because jaemin is sprawled out alongside you, opting to rest his legs on your lap. haechan makes a joke that you don’t understand, but you laugh anyway along with everyone else, except renjun who covers up his laugh with cough.

“you can never let me have it, huh?”, hyuck scoffs, narrowing his eyes at renjun who’s mouth forms a thin line. “i know for a fact you find me funny.”

you hear that he makes a remark back at haechan but what he says doesn’t register in your head, everything sounding far away. remembering the special occasion, you turn to face chaewon and sieun, who are giggling away on the floor about something between the two of them. you don’t know what they said but you smile anyway. she clearly seemed like she was having a good trip, and so was everyone else.

swallowing nothing, you realise how dry your throat feels, and with that realisation came this undeniable desire for some form of liquid. “jen,”, you tilt your head back and call out to the boy who was already rolling another joint on the table behind you. “did you end up buying more coke?”

“check the fridge”, he mumbles without looking at you, tongue poking his cheek out of concentration as he focuses on what he was doing. with a groan, you heave jaemin’s legs off your lap, muttering a couple ‘sorry’s when he starts to complain about the change in position.

you all but float to the kitchen, heading straight for the fridge and spotting the fresh cans of coke placed neatly in the overcrowded appliance. the first gulp feels like heaven against your parched throat, taking a few more while standing there.

“you gonna share or no?”, a voice startles you, turning to find haechan’s figure looming right behind you with a dopey smile on his face.

“god, we need to get you a bell or something. i never hear you coming”, you roll your eyes before grabbing two glasses from the cabinet. you’re disappointed to see that there was no ice in their freezer, but you pour the drink into the glass anyway.

“why are you pouring it into a glass?”, haechan furrows his eyebrows, looking pointedly between the glass and the literal can in your hand. “now we have to wash two glasses when we could’ve just drank it from the can.”

he’s right, of course, but you’re not gonna tell him that. instead, you pretend that you were planning on adding some lemon juice to the drink because you saw it on instagram. while you figure he doesn’t believe you, he humours you anyway and tries your little concoction, which ends up being pretty damn good.

out of all of jeno’s friends, haechan definitely stood out to you. you didn’t really understand why, you were just drawn to him, even way back before you met him, when jeno used to tell you about his friends. “loud and annoying” were the words he used to describe him, but the smile that appeared on his face anyway let you know that he was someone special to jeno. this was not to say his other friends weren’t special, you got along incredibly well with all of them, meshing right in with their group.

as of right on cue, jaemin’s voice loudly sounds out from the living room, “are you guys fucking in there or what?”.

sighing, you pick up your glass and begin to walk out of the kitchen, but not before purposely knocking haechan’s shoulder when you walk past him, hearing him snort before following you out as you exit the room. perhaps if you had lingered in the kitchen for a couple seconds longer, you would’ve heard haechan muttering something along the lines of “i wish” under his breath.

“jeez, took you long enough, can i have some of that?”, renjun drawls, lifting himself off the armchair with a smile, to which you roll your eyes but pass him your glass anyway. you sit down on the floor opposite the couch and he looks as if he is about to compliment your drink-making skills before haechan cuts him off.

“dude, chaewon and sieun look like they’re about to fall asleep, let’s do something”, he half yawns out, opting to stroll over to your spot on the floor and sinking down next to you.

“not…sleepy…”, chaewon murmurs, but her voice is muffled because her cheek is pressed against sieun’s shoulder, both of them sprawled out on the floor like it was a comfortable bed.

“sure you aren’t…”, jeno chides with a smile, getting up from the table to walk over to where all of you were situated. he twirls his newly rolled joint between his fingers, finally holding it out in his palm as if it were some magical gadget, and if you were being fully honest, you were sold. “round 2? or 3, I can’t really remember…”

some words of agreement were muttered across the room, chaewon and sieun even groggily getting up from what looked like a very comfortable napping spot. another rotation began, and you made sure to blow out your smoke directly into an unsuspecting haechan’s face when it was your turn.

“let’s play a game or something”, jaemin suggests, taking a long puff and passing it to jeno who sat beside him, and soon the room was hazy once again, the smell of weed infiltrating your nostrils.

“like what?”, chaewon coughs weakly in between her hit and renjun pats her back before he hands her your coke that you hadn’t received back after you gave it to him. so long for that.

“monopoly?”, jeno offers with a shrug and haechan lets out an obnoxious snore as a reply, making you laugh but you cover it up with a cough when you meet jeno’s playfully narrowed eyes. “okay then, big guy, what’s your incredible idea?”

haechan appears to actually think about it for a moment, looking around the room for some sort of inspiration maybe, until his eyes land on you.

“okay jaemin, get that empty wine bottle from last week, we’re playing spin the bottle”, he is grinning from ear to ear, wiggling his eyebrows even though all his suggestion receives is a bunch of groans and sighs.

your eyebrows are raised however, and you try not to let your reaction show too much on your face. spin the bottle? you hadn’t played that since you were maybe fourteen, but that was the least of your concerns at the moment. haechan wanted to play spin the bottle? who was he hoping to kiss? or was it just a whimsical little suggestion that was more of a joke?

it didn’t fully seem like he meant it as a joke, judging by his expression as he awaited some actual responses from the group. “what are we, fourteen?”, renjun might as well have read your mind, but he soon joins you and haechan on the floor, the others following suit. jaemin presents the empty bottle and places it in the middle of the little circle you have formed, everyone seeming slightly more keen as the joint runs out.

maybe it was the thc talking, but it didn’t really seem like a bad idea to you anymore. you were all single, attractive and close enough that it wouldn’t make things weird, and most importantly, you wouldn’t mind getting more familiar with haechan’s lips.

you shocked your own self with the sudden lewd thoughts in your head about the male sitting next to you, squirming in your position slightly. he turns his head towards you like he could hear your thoughts (“shut up, y/n, he can’t hear your thoughts…right?”) and you swear his eyes soften a bit. “are you sure you wanna play?”, he asks softly, mistaking your tenseness for discomfort, but you shake your head a little too quickly for your liking.

“no, no, let’s play, it’s not like we have anything better to do, right?”, you feign indifference and after everyone else agrees, the bottle is spun for the first time by haechan.

much to renjun’s dismay, it lands on him, and it’s almost comical the way he looks at the bottle pointing at him before slowly looking up at haechan. “renjunnie, let me kiss you”, haechan whines in a high pitched tone while drawing out the “you”, puckering his lips expectantly. the next three minutes consist of renjun listing every single person he would rather kiss than haechan, and you’d have half the mind to volunteer yourself if you weren’t clutching at your sides laughing at the whole exchange, slapping at both jeno and sieun who tried and failed to dodge your waving hands.

renjun finally relents when chaewon suggests he lets him kiss his cheek instead, but haechan is no quitter so he makes sure that he plants the loudest, most wet kiss on his face before sighing in victory when he sits back down. renjun is not the most happy with this, and he tells jaemin to take his turn instead while he rushes off to the bathroom to wash his face. hyuck looks indignant, calling out behind renjun, asking if he wants another one.

taking the turn instead of renjun, jaemin spins the bottle harshly, and it spins and spins and spins for what seemed like an eternity. your eyes are so focused on the way the bottle looks as it spins that you don’t even notice that it has stopped, until jeno nudges you with his shoulder. it’s neck is pointed directly at you, and you finally look up from your trance at jaemin, who wears an undeniable smirk on his face.

while you didn’t exactly see him that way, there was absolutely no denying that jaemin was a very attractive man, and he was no different presently, the sleeves of his hoodie rolled up as he propped himself up with his arms, looking at you expectantly.

you don’t want to look at haechan right now, because you can see out of the corner of your eye that his face is looking straight forward, not at you or jaemin, just forward. you wonder what is going through his head, but your thoughts are cut short when jaemin scoots closer to you in the circle.

“are you okay with this?”

and when you think about, you are. “yeah, i mean it’s just a game”, you reply, not wanting to ruin the fun or raise any suspicions, to which jaemin agrees and inclines his head towards you.

he kisses you, more fully than you were expecting, but you had no complaints really as you kissed him back, titling your head in the opposite direction to slip your lips over his. you wonder if your lips were as dry as they felt, and in the back of your mind it registers that your friends are watching you kiss your other friend because they hoot and giggle, but you can’t really bring yourself to care.

jaemin’s lips taste sweet and he smells sweet, his touch soft as he brings a hand up to your cheek, gently holding it while he continues kissing you. it probably wasn’t as long as it felt, but jaemin finally pulls away, the remnants of his sweet chapstick lingering on your lips. you are aware of how hot your face feels when you pull away and return to your spot, tucking your hair behind your ears.

“dude, what chapstick do you use?”, you ask after clearing your throat, and jaemin rummages in his pant pocket for a moment before whipping out a cute pink tube, holding it out in front of him. “strawberry dream, baby”, he winks, reapplying it on his lips. “never go anywhere without it.”

renjun returns after god knows how long, stating that he had to re-do his skin care routine because haechan had completely thrown off his skin’s ph balance, and is saddened to hear that he missed witnessing you and jaemin.

the game continues in a steadfast manner for the next couple of rounds thanks to haechan insisting we play one more round, though it doesn’t exactly go in the manner you were hoping for. the group is practically in tears after watching jeno and jaemin share an awkward kiss, chaewon arguing that they can’t claim “no homo” because it was the most homo thing she’d seen in a while, and that was saying a lot because she was, in fact, gay.

you have now kissed sieun, jaemin once again and an especially endearing renjun, who’s cheeks and tips of his ears are painted a bright red after you plant a full peck on his waiting lips. haechan grumbles something about renjun not having kissed anyone besides his mom to explain his reaction, but jeno is quick to cut renjun off before another argument ensues.

“i don’t know about you guys, but i think that’s enough exchanging of saliva for one day”, he all but sighs, lying down on the floor dramatically. while you do agree, you’re disheartened, because not once has the bottle landed on you when spun by haechan, or the other way around. it feels like the universe is fucking with you, because really how many times can you spin a bottle between a group of seven people and not have it land on the one person you want to kiss even once.

haechan looks like he wants to say something, but appears to decide against it in the end, stretching and standing up. it is then mutually agreed by everyone that it was time to watch a movie.

“super bad?”, jaemin proposes, and even though most people had already watched the movie, no one argues against it and jeno starts setting up the movie on their big screen tv.

settling into the couch, you glance over at haechan and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t feeling a tad bit disappointed. this whole spin the bottle thing makes you wonder about all the other times where you could have had an opportunity to make a move on the brown-haired boy.

you’d gone on long drives together, gone partying, even drank with just each other a couple of times. the closest the two of you had ever come to crossing that line was while you where dancing at a party and his arms were looped around your waist from behind, slowly swaying to the beat. you’d danced with him tons of times before that but you recall thinking the air was a little different than normal, more heated, but you also recall mistaking renjun for your professor, so you didn’t trust yourself. the moment came and went, and neither of you ever had the balls to address it, and now it had been way too long since to bring it up.

“this seat taken?”, haechan snaps you out of your bitter thoughts, jerking his head towards the spot on the couch next to you. you clear your throat and shake your head, scooting over slightly so he could sink down next to you. “what’s up, y/n, you look a little…not present. you still high?”

it’s funny because your mind certainly wasn’t present, it was in the gutter, but you choose to blame the weed. “yeah, i’m still high”, you answered truthfully, and so was he, his red, hooded eyes a dead giveaway.

“okay, perfect, i wanted to show you this stupid tiktok i saw”, he’s pulling his phone out of his pocket and leaning closer to you to show you some video of a cat, or maybe a dog, you weren’t paying attention. he laughs at whatever the animal did, the corner of his eyes crinkling as he does so, and you observe him instead of watching. when he doesn’t hear you laugh, he peeks over at you but you’re quick to turn your head back to his phone, letting out a very late giggle at the video.

if he did catch you, he doesn’t mention it, continuing to scroll and show you more videos. jeno finally gets the movie set up and turns off the lights, taking up the final seat left on the couch. the movie begins, and everyone falls into a comfortable silence bar hyuck, who makes the occasional comment that earns him a snort from you each time.

at some point during the movie, haechan stretches his arms out behind him, placing his arm on the head of the couch directly behind you. glancing at him quickly, you can’t tell whether the action was purposeful or not, because if it was, he was doing a very good job of looking nonchalant. you try your best to ignore it, but his hand is resting directly above your shoulder, inches away from touching you- but it never does.

you had never noticed what nice hands haechan had before. long and slender, nails clipped short and clean, his middle, ring and index finger adorned with various silver rings. you note that he wears three rings on his left hand, but none on his right. his right hand sits on top of one of his thighs, two of his fingers drumming against it following some rhythm going on in his head. his fingers are long, and the only thing you can think about is just how nice they would feel inside–

no, no, no, stop it, since when are you this horny?

you realise stressing out about how horny you are all of a sudden is just going to lead to a bad trip and you don’t want that, and you want to clear your head. even though you’re feeling a different kind of thirsty, you figure a distraction for a couple minutes would be helpful, so you excuse yourself to go get some water, jumping up from the couch and walking towards the kitchen. unbeknownst to you, haechan’s watchful eyes follow your figure as you exit the room.

finally away and in the kitchen, you fill up a glass and lean over the sink, closing your eyes to collect yourself. you can finish the movie without driving yourself crazy over haechan, right? tonight is no different than any other hangout and you don’t want to weird haechan out with your unnecessary staring and poorly concealed thirsting. you just need to stop thinking about his stupid hands, his stupid thighs, his stupid hair and his stupid kissable lips. “kissable? lock in, y/n, lock in…”

“who are you talking to?”

you wince but don’t turn around, eyes screwed shut tightly. you’ve been gone for a couple minutes and you don’t know when he left the room, but you put down the glass and turn to face him.

“what’s got you so jumpy?”, he questions, leaning against the counter. his arms are folded and his gaze is piercing, face tilted slightly to the left as he observes you. this is the second time he’s startled you in the kitchen today and also happens to be the very reason you’ve been so jumpy.

“nothing, i just…god, you need to starting announcing your entry into a room, dude…”

he furrows his eyebrows but lets out a chuckle anyway, slowly sauntering over to where you stood. eyes never leaving yours, he now stands directly in front of you, caging you in between the sink and his body. the closer proximity and dim lighting isn’t helping your case in the slightest, feeling all hot and bothered as if there was a sudden change in temperature. “what’s happening? you’re usually never like this, we’ve smoked up together so many times. are you having a bad trip?”

you understand why he might think that, what with your jerky movements, dazed staring and just overall disconnected demeanour. while you were wound up a little tighter than usual, you weren’t having a bad trip, your mind was just very slightly preoccupied. “no, hyuck, i’m fine, i just…needed some water”, it’s a half-lie you tell, choosing to not tell him the full truth for the sake of your own pride.

“you just seem…off”, he seems to pick his words carefully, eyes roaming over the expanse of your face. “no, i just…”, you trail off to try and find the words to explain this situation away, but he’s just looking at you so intensely. it’s so silent in the room and the air feels all too still, and you swear you’re trying to speak coherently but haechan switches his weight to his other leg, wetting his lips with his tongue while he awaits an answer and you just freeze. “i…”

“‘i’ what? see? you’re doing it again”, he starts, running a hand through his hair, and the muted light that leaks in through the window illuminates only one half of his face, but you can see him so clearly that even the way his pretty eyelashes brush against his cheek when he blinks doesn’t go unnoticed by you. you’re subconsciously chewing on your bottom lip, feeling a little like a deer caught in headlights. “you have this look in your eye. like you wanna…”

“…what?”

everything is still and unmoving, until your eyes zero in on haechan’s hand as he raises it, slowly bringing it to graze his fingers over your cheek. his touch leaves a burning hot trail on your skin and using his thumb, he releases your bottom lip from under your teeth, hand lingering cautiously for a fleeting moment before he drops it.

“like what, haechan?”, you repeat yourself, urging him to just say whatever it is he has to say, getting tired of this back and forth. you could sell a kidney just to see what was going on in his mind right now, because he looks torn between speaking his mind and just staying silent.

“like you want to kiss me.”

a few beats of complete and utter silence pass, not even hearing the dull sound of the television in the living room anymore over the thudding of your heart in your ears. haechan takes a small and tentative step towards your frozen figure, gripping the counter you’re using to lean against with his right hand, effectively trapping you in your place. now you really are a deer caught in headlights, because he’s spoken what you’ve been thinking about for the past couple hours into existence and he is absolutely correct.

“am i wrong, pretty?”

judging by your sharp intake of breath and open-mouthed expression, you’d have to be a fool to think otherwise. he looks as if he’s waiting for you to answer him regardless, giving you a chance to get out of this, but your voice is no longer functioning, and it takes all the strength in your body to shake your head ‘no’.

his eyes flicker between your eyes and your lips, tongue peeking out to lick his lips again. “i suggested playing spin the bottle because i wanted to kiss you”, his voice is strained as he admits this, quiet and careful like he’s holding back while his eyes are trained on yours like he’s daring you to break eye contact. you don’t. “but then everyone else was kissing you but me.”

normally you would giggle at his little frown, but all you can muster up is a whisper of his name, finally breaking his all-consuming eye contact in favour of looking at his lips again. you don’t know who moves first, but the next thing you know is your lips are pressed together in a fierce kiss, your hands tangled in his soft, brown locks while he grip your waist and pull you into him.

he kisses you like a man starved and you do the same with equal fervour, not even being able to process that your little daydream is coming true. his hand comes up to caress your cheek, soon moving down your neck after stroking your face softly, using it to tilt your head for you. the position of his hand is very purposeful because his thumb presses into your throat ever so slightly, but his grip is still tight enough that you couldn’t break the kiss (not that you wanted to, anyway). the other hand snakes around your waist and pulls you impossibly closer, pressing his hips into yours.

you’re positively drunk off the feeling of haechan’s lips molding over yours and you think you might just ascend when he tugs on your bottom lip with his teeth, using the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. body on fire, you mewl against his lips, swirling your own tongue around his while he slowly but surely bucks his hips into yours.

no wards are spoken while your hands thread through his hair, pulling on it and letting out a sound of surprise into his mouth when his hand trails down to your ass and grips it harshly. he finally releases you from the searing kiss, but he doesn’t let you catch your breath, instead spinning you around in his hold so that his front presses tightly into your back, hands slipping around your waist from behind. this feels like a déjà vu kind of moment because you are reminded of the time when you both were dancing in this exact position, except this time you were getting exactly what you wanted.

“you know how bad i wanted this?”, his voice echoes your thoughts and breaks the silence, hands running up and down your front in a teasing manner. lifting your shirt up slightly, he trails his fingers over the exposed skin of your torso and the action makes you squirm in his hold a little, and much to your surprise, he groans lewdly against your ear. “fuck, i’ve been thinking of this for so long. kissing you, having my hands all over you…”

you get the sense he’s talking more to himself than you, but you revel in it nonetheless. his hand grips your jaw and squishes your cheeks together so your lips form a pout, forcing it to the side where he plants one, two, three kisses to your puckered mouth. his other hand slips further up your shirt where he brazenly cups your boob through your bra, fondling one of them while his tongue peeks out to flick at your bottom lip.

you’re putty in his arms, all gasps and squirms and whispered ‘haechan’s. “what, baby?”, he mumbles into your cheek, the hand gripping your jaw letting go in order to slink down to your hip where it lingers for a moment. “what do you want?”

your lack of answer doesn’t bode well with him, earning you a tight squeeze to your hip as a kind of warning. “need you to touch me”, you whisper out defeatedly, and you feel haechan laugh mockingly against your face.

“yeah? need me to touch you?”, he mimics your voice while tutting, letting his hand slip further down to where you needed him the most, but not letting you have it just yet. “think you can be a good girl and keep quiet for me? we don’t need everyone outside hearing what a little slut you’re being in here.”

everyone outside. the fact that you were just a room away from all your friends who were sat watching a fun little movie together had completely slipped your mind, but if you were being honest, you couldn’t find it in you to give a shit. everything about your current disposition was so dirty. one hand under your shirt, the other about two seconds away from fingering you right in the middle of your friends’ kitchen, while said friends were sat outside, unaware of the goings-on under their own roof.

though you didn’t think actually getting caught in this position would be the most pleasant experience, the idea of it dampened your panties and caused you to whine out loud, tilting your head back against haechan’s shoulder. you receive an immediate hand clamped over your mouth in return, haechan tutting in your ear condescendingly. “looks like the little slut can’t follow a simple request.”

even though he reprimands you, his hands begin fumbling with the button of your jeans anyway, undoing it and pulling the zipper down. one hand comes up to wrap around your front and rests on your shoulder, holding you in place, and the other he sticks down your pants and cups your heat but makes no effort to move, chuckling when you try to move yourself against it. his crotch ruts against the swell of your ass and for you, any friction is better than no friction at the moment. with one hand gipping the arm around your shoulder, you slip the other behind you to palm at his hard cock over his pants, making him let out a sound of approval.

“please, hyuck”, you shake your face free of his hand and turn to look him in the eye, and he grips your throat and presses a chaste kiss to your lips.

he seems to accept your plea, finally moving his hand against you and you breathe a sigh of relief, lost in the feeling of his fingers rubbing circles on your clit over your wet underwear. he’s quick to slip his hand inside your panties, cold fingers pressed directly on to your bare pussy, spreading your wetness all over you. when he ultimately slips a finger into your tight, waiting core, you moan but it’s cut short when he slaps his hand over your mouth again. “keep. quiet.”

if someone were to walk in, the two of you would be a sight to see. you writhing in his tight hold while his hand is stuffed in your pants, two fingers pistoning in and out of you at a fast pace as his forehead is pressed against the side of your face, releasing short breaths. you look positively fucked out, and you’re both in a state of complete bliss as you grind against each other in a timely rhythm.

“my pretty girl. if i had known you wanted this too, i would’ve just grabbed you and kissed you like i wanted, in front of everyone.”

his voice is honey-like and sultry, and his fingers are nothing short of heavenly. they pump in and out of you, and he still manages to use his thumb to toy with your clit in this position, leaving you breathless and on the edge. “can’t believe jaemin and renjun got to kiss you before me.”

you’re so wet that your cunt makes downright sinful noises as he fingers you and you’re hoping that it isn’t really as loud as it seems. “you’re so wet, angel. so this is what had you all jumpy today”, he laughs like he’s stating the obvious, and you’d have half the mind to feel shy if his ministrations didn’t feel so fucking good right now.

you’re aware that you’re close and so is he because you’re clenching around his fingers, so he quickens his pace both inside you and against your clit. “you gonna cum for me, baby? right here, in the middle of kitchen, while everyone’s outside?”, he purrs against your face and you grip the part of his arm that isn’t shoved in your pants, digging your nails into his skin in a way that’s sure to leave a mark. his words make you feel dirty in the best way, not even knowing you could feel this turned on.

he peppers kisses along your jaw and neck, sucking here and there, and through the pale moonlight bleeding into the room from the window, the red blemishes that begin to bloom on your skin are visible to hyuck, and he seems pleased with his artwork. “that’s it, sweetheart, let go for me.”

your moans are muffled against his palm when you finally come, the orgasm ripping through you so strongly that you go limp in his hands, legs almost buckling at the sensation. with the added boost of the weed you smoked earlier, your orgasm is immense, feeling it pulse through your body until it’s too much, whining and wriggling in haechan’s firm hold. he holds you still and helps you ride out your high, whispering utterances of “that’s right, baby” and “my good girl” into your ear while you throw your head back and try to regulate your breathing.

in a moment, his hand slips out of your pants, turning you back around so you’re now facing him, grinning down at you from ear to ear as if you both hadn’t just defiled jaemin and jeno’s kitchen. “you feeling okay?”, he mumbles, tucking your hair behind your ear with the hand that wasn’t soaked, pressing a number of kisses all over your face as you nod and giggled, trying to evade his attack. he lets you go just to wash his hands, and it’s when he dries his wet hands on the material of his pants that you notice his raging boner, immediately feeling bad.

“wait hyuck, let me–“

as if he’s reading your mind once again, he shakes his head and takes both of your hands into his, wrapping them around his own waist while pulling you into him. “we can save that for another time, pretty”, he insists, his expression turning shy when he realises the implications behind his words. “that is, i-if you want another time, of course–“

it’s your turn to cut him off this time, but you do so by leaning up and connecting your lips again, bring a hand up to stroke his cheek. “of course i want another time, hyuck. i want this. i want you.”

your assurances do good to bring a smile to his pretty face, taking ahold of the hand on his cheek and pressing his lips to your skin gently, lovingly. “so, so, perfect.”

taking note of the prolonged amount of time the two of you had been gone, you skulk back into the living, but this time, hand in hand.

the scene you’re greeted with is a surprising one, because you find every single one of your friends to be sound asleep, much to your amusement and hyuck’s dismay. “so you’re telling me i could’ve been hearing you moan the whole time and none of these idiots would have even known?”, he is appalled, a hand coming up to rub at his face out of frustration. “i did all that for nothing?”

“i wouldn’t say for nothing”, you reveal, biting your lip and smiling up at the boy shyly. “i might have woken them up.”

“oh yeah, well now you’re going to”, and with that, he’s dragging you back to the kitchen while you giggle, nearly tripping over your own feet before he all but scoops you up in his arms, muttering to himself about having left something in the kitchen that needed urgent fetching.

#eve you ATE with this 😵‍💫#ldh

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raspberriesoda · 5 hours

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hey judah! how are you? how’s your weekend been?

hi saraya! i’ve been doing okay, not like super great but i think i am starting to feel better so that’s good 🤍 my weekend has been full of work, unfortunately my actual weekend doesn’t start until tomorrow since i work thursday-sunday 😩 but at least i’m almost there lmao! how have you been? ☺️

#thank you for checking in ur so sweet!#judah.ask

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raspberriesoda · 8 hours

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he is everything to me

#im gojng crazy imso serious #jaemin PLEASE i would literally do anything fr u..#na jaemin #judah.txt

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raspberriesoda · 9 hours

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헐………..

#GULP 😳#what is he looking so babygirl for !!#i am this 🤏🏻 close to losing my mind #njm

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raspberriesoda · 9 hours

Text

LOOOK AT MY MAN ‼️‼️‼️

#HE SO 😵‍💫#hua u are so right emosung is everything to me 😩#pjs

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raspberriesoda · 16 hours

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texts with boyfriend!haechan ♡

warnings: fem!reader, marriage talk, hc tells yn to shut up but not in a mean way, pet names (for him: hyuck, babe, textbook evil ☠️ for y/n: angel, baby, wife)

while making this i randomly remembered the rumours of jungwoo being mariah carey’s vocal coach ☠️ so i had to throw him in here

#this is so fucking cute im going to pass away #ldh

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raspberriesoda · 1 day

Text

Stay

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. AGE MUST BE VISIBLE TO INTERACT.

summary: jisung and the reader get a third (jeno) before talking about their feelings

includes ... threesome (obviously), oral sex (m + f receiving), excessive use of pet names, double vaginal penetration, spanking, hair pulling, slight possessiveness, squirting (f), referenced over-sensitivity, fwb jisung, fwb jeno, etc.

word count: > 12k (lol)

minors + empty/inactive blogs do not interact. age must be visible.

minors get blocked AND REPORTED.

Jisung rarely shows up to your apartment unannounced. It happened maybe once or twice in the past, but usually, he schedules his booty calls, as to not throw you off and to keep his calendar organized. He even spent the last hour, in his car at the gym, debating over his messages - whether to actually text you or to just go through your most recent video; working out always makes him a hundred times hornier than normal.

When he finally gets to your apartment, on the third floor, you serendipitously open the door, before he has a chance to knock, wearing an unfamiliar oversized Demon Slayer t-shirt and sweatpants.

Jisung frowns.

He didn’t know you watched anime without him. It’s supposed to be your thing, the thing he shares with you. Just last week, you watched Suzume together, him leaning on your shoulder while you stole popcorn out of his lap.

“Oh.” You put a small trash bag behind the doorframe and draw your hands behind your back, pushing forward the design on your shirt. “Ji, what - what are you doing here?”

Jisung pushes your door open wider and steps one foot inside your apartment. Instantly, he grabs your upper arms, holding you still. You comply, pupils darting across his face, shoulders slumping into his hands.

“I’m going to kiss you,” he says, huskily, confidently. Then, he does it. He tilts you backward, down the entryway, and kisses you.

You falter a little bit, tripping on your heels, even though he moves slowly, muscles still controlled by his workout adrenaline. But you don’t stop him. So, he keeps going. Jisung walks you toward the wall, hands trickling down your sides to protect you from the furniture into which he accidentally bumps, and the media chest rocks on its legs.

“Ji,” you mumble.

He hums back (what?), licking the seam between your lips more broken.

“Jisung,” you repeat a little firmer, although still lax, barely gasping more air.

He doesn’t stop. Jisung moves down your jaw, to let you breathe again, tilting your chin up with his thumb for better access.

“Sung, I have company.”

“Don’t care.”

“Jisung,” you gasp, half-moaning, when he licks at your collarbone and mills a thigh between your legs. You shudder, entire body draping across his torso. And he thinks tonight will be easy or quick to make you cum, if you’re already so sensitive. “Jisung, I -”

“Jisung?”

A deep voice breaks him off you, and he sighs, head dropping to your shoulder. He lingers in the light citrus scent, both familiar and not. When he turns his head to your bedroom, Jisung’s jaw falls free:

“Jeno?”

“What are you doing here?”

“Me?” Jisung points at himself, eyebrows furrowing. “What are you doing here?”

“Wait.” You put a hand on Jisung’s chest, patting your fingers between his pecs. Both boys look at you, but it does something to Jisung’s heart, that you only look at him. He waits for you to continue, as does Jeno, probably, and slips his hands more chastely down your sides. You lick your lips tentatively, darting your eyes at Jisung, breath breaking before you say, “You two know each other?”

“He’s my roommate,” Jisung tells you, nodding. He rubs his thumb into your hip bone reassuringly, subconsciously nudging you deeper into his chest. You follow him, moving both your legs between his now.

“Roommate,” Jeno scoffs.

And Jisung looks up to find him with his arms crossed over his bare chest, pants hanging below the waistband of his Calvin Kleins. Oh, you do have … company.

“We’ve been friends for over nine years,” Jeno reminds him. He tilts his head to the side, frowning. “Are you two …?”

“Are you?” Jisung challenges. He wraps an arm down your waist, partially hiding you behind him, with him, in his jacket. It’s not the first time Jisung has fought with Jeno, a side effect of that nine year - bordering 10 years - friendship, but this feels extremely one-sided, the more Jeno keeps his composure.

You groan, burying your face in Jisung’s arms, hugging him tightly, apologetically. “I told you that I have company over,” you whisper, lips virtually pecking the folds of his jacket. He brushes away a few strands of hair from your face, and his fingers linger on your warming cheeks. “This is so embarrassing.”

“No, it’s not,” Jisung assuages, rubbing your sides.

Except, it is.

Embarrassing.

He feels embarrassed. You’re sleeping with one of his best friends. And he came over unannounced during said slumber party. And he engages in a one-sided argument with that best friend, over you.

“We’re not exclusive,” he reasons, as if that makes things better.

His fault, too, by the way, his brain reminds him. He told you that he wanted no strings attached, that he didn’t want a serious label. He even slept with other people! Well, not recently, but still, he cannot expect the same level of exclusivity from you when he has said nothing thus far.

Jisung turns to Jeno, who just stares at the both of you, now leaning on the hallway door frame.

“Neither are we, by the way,” Jeno says casually. He scrunches his nose.

“Cool.” Jisung nods shortly, dissipating the edge in his voice.

“Yeah, cool …” Jeno nods too, an eyebrow raised, and Jisung slowly turns back to you, stroking the longest parts of your hair. “So, are you here for …?”

“Are you?” Jisung bites, automatically.

Then, he winces.

He needs to let it go.

Like, yeah, obviously, Jeno is here sleeping with you, though neither of them articulate it. Why else would Jeno walk around your apartment shirtless?

Jisung bends his neck down and catches another glimpse of your anime shirt. Oh. It’s not unfamiliar; it’s just unfamiliar on you.

“I’ll go,” he says, starting to pull away, but you slip your arms around his waist, shifting your face into his chest.

“‘M sorry, Ji,” you mumble in his neck, leaning as tall as you can on your toes. Jisung can feel your breath under his jugular.

In the past, when you did this, you always dropped back into your heels and stammered something about trying to whisper a secret before complaining that he is too tall. Now, though, Jisung catches you, keeping you tighter against his chest just a second longer until he has to leave … to give you … and Jeno privacy.

“We can talk about it later?”

Your entire body freezes, breath stopping in your throat, then you nod.

“Yeah, ye - yeah, okay.”

You pull away even quicker, retreating to Jeno, who gives you both curious looks. The way you answer him makes Jisung swallow a thousand times, forcing his mouth slightly open in case he ends up word-vomiting it all back up. And he wants to say goodbye, properly, but you have company, as you told him, tried to warn him. So, Jisung takes an imperceptible step backwards, on his heels, closer to the door.

He watches Jeno open an arm for you to slide underneath, and you comply.

“I mean,” Jeno starts, and the both of you divert your attentions to his face, though he mostly looks at Jisung. “You don’t have to go.” Jeno clears his throat, massaging his larynx. Jisung shifts his weight to the tips of his toes, and you angle your neck just right at Jeno. “You could … stay.”

You grab his hand, threading your fingers through his. “Jeno,” you whisper, “I’m here with you.”

Everyone ignores the obvious that this is your apartment. If you wanted to kick either of them out, they would have to comply.

“No, I mean,” Jeno coughs, “Jisung could stay,” he tells you, eyebrows raising. Jisung cannot discern what that means, and he wants, so desperately, to be let into your bubble. “With us, he could stay.” Jeno turns to Jisung. “If you want.”

“You mean …” like join you?

“If you want.”

Jisung looks at you, and you bury your face in Jeno’s shoulder, covering your eyes with his arm. He knows that he got here too late, that he got here after Jeno, so he would feel even worse, kicking him out, especially if you just slept with him. Jisung bites his lip and shakes his bangs in front of his hair, which makes it look like he said no.

“I … I …” he pants, eyes darting between Jeno and you, lingering a little bit longer on you. “Can I join?” He swallows, taking a small step forward. “Please?”

Jisung kisses you first, but Jeno kisses you harder.

Jeno grabs you by the neck, his fingers sliding behind your nape, tearing you away from Jisung, physically taking all your breath across the half-tousled bed, another reminder that you slept with his best friend. “Mine,” he whispers.

And Jisung sighs, his hands falling to your hips. His thumbs crawl up your waist, pushing back Jeno’s t-shirt. “This is counterintuitive,” he mumbles, bitter taste leaving his lips. “It wasn’t even my suggestion.”

“N-no,” you stutter, agreeing with him. You pull off Jeno and slip back into Jisung’s lap, above his grey sweatpants. He repositions you into straddling his lap, your hands falling high on his shoulders, but you slide them back down, kneading the muscles. You also lean into his collar, pressing a compliant kiss there, and Jisung almost monopolizes you again. “You hate sharing,” you point out, drawing little zig zags under his jacket. And Jisung smiles. “Maybe we shouldn’t do this then,” you sigh, “if you’re both going to be so …”

“So what?” Jeno scoots closer to you two, nearly sandwiching you and kissing Jisung himself.

“So possessive.”

Jisung looks at Jeno, and Jeno stares back. Possessive is not a word that he would use to describe himself, to be honest. Jeno, yeah, a little … or a lot. It’s just that he has never done this before. There are so many logistics, and he wants you to be the most relaxed person here, since you will have to overcompensate for two people. Jisung feels you wrap your fingers around his wrist, gently circling your nail into the bone.

“Are you changing your mind?” he asks, eyes fluttering down.

You shake your head. “No, I - I want this, I promise.” You glance at Jeno briefly, over Jisung’s bicep, then back at Jisung. Your fingers stop tapping his skin, and he frowns. “I-if you still want this, I still want it, too.”

“I want it,” Jeno mumbles, stealing you into the pillows at the opposite end of the bed with him, your legs now tangled together. “I want you,” he mumbles, a hand cupping your face. His palm brings your lips even further away from Jisung, and Jisung looks away, twiddling his long, idle fingers.

Sometime between your kisses, your hands crawl into Jisung’s. He fumbles forward, chasing you before Jeno can pull you away again, and kisses your heartline, temporarily opening your palms, cupping his face. Jisung starts moving down your wrist, sucking where your blood thumps the hardest. He slowly flies higher and higher, brushing his lip low up your shoulders. You shudder, sliding into his arms.

“How are we going to do this?” Jisung whispers in your ear, before clearing his throat (or so he tells himself; it sounds like another groan). You just give him a blank look, pulling off Jeno only slightly, barely enough to blink at his face. Jisung pecks you reassuringly, bottom lip catching between your teeth, before he laughs and looks up at Jeno mouthing along the outer silhouette of your boobs.

To be honest, Jisung has a small idea of what he wants. He’s had it since he drove to your apartment, beelining past his own place: he wants to fuck you - which seems difficult, right now, as he tries to adjust for another person, for one of his best friends. Jeno finally meets his eye, and Jisung’s question reflects across his pupils, almost begging Jeno to say something, too. He doesn’t want to be the person who rushes the moment too fast.

“I don’t know,” Jeno rasps, also clearing his throat. He massages your waist, and Jisung looks down at you. Somewhere in the tangles, you tensed. And he didn’t notice. Neither of them noticed, really. But he didn’t notice, and he notices this, too.

A beat passes, temporarily fracturing the tension.

Then, another one, as Jisung and Jeno stare at each other, wordlessly coming up with a plan. Jeno dips his gaze at you, Jisung following, and you squirm again, bedsheets knotting your hair. You swallow thickly, once you see that their stares don’t waver.

“We can take it step-by-step,” Jisung says, more confidently than any of you feel. And eventually, met by little resistance, he resumes kissing your neck, turning you back into him.

Things pick back up pretty quickly; quicker than Jisung anticipated.

You react near immediate, straddling Jisung into the mattress, and Jeno helps you topple him, hands on your ass. Jisung, by contrast with his assurance, easily starts feeling overwhelmed. So many fingers keep brushing his body, despite him still wearing all his clothes - a simple hoodie and sweatpants, really, which makes him heat up effortlessly, too. You stare at Jisung for a second, slowly teetering on your knees, then kiss him, breathlessly, in the same way he entered your apartment.

And you, he thinks, look so pretty like this, kneeling above him, cradling his face, like you want to take care of him. Jisung crawls up the bed, on his elbows, until he leans fully against the headrest. Jeno moves, too, finding more purchase on your ass. And they kinda look like they just switched places, like they’re taking turns. But he is unwilling, right now, to relinquish your focus, so Jisung bypasses your hands, folding your neck backwards. Smoothly, he copies your position. His long fingers dip behind your ears, and he exhales sharply over your cheeks, restarting kisses every couple of seconds.

If one lasts too long, you might decide that his turn is over, so he presses his lips against yours in rapid succession, like he found a cheat code.

“Jisung,” you moan, even though he barely does anything. It makes him a bit curious, as to what Jeno is doing, especially since you start kneeling higher (not that it does much to his position, because his torso is so much taller than you).

“Hi,” he mumbles back, simply, cheekily, smirking, after you say nothing. He likes how you say his name. “Feel good, baby?” he asks, and your lips hum in return, closing off his tongue, making him smile wider.

Then, you start pulling away, slowing down your kisses into brief pecks. His tongue trails after you, hooking under your top lip to keep you here, with him.

Don’t go, he implies, tangling the tips of his fingers in the roots of your hair. Jisung slips his tongue even further inside your mouth, practically tying you to him. His hand falls down your curves and grabs the first thing he can, which is, incidentally, Jeno’s wrist. He doesn’t let go, though. Jisung actually holds on, squeezes, a minute longer, until you draw back completely. He stares at you, wide-eyed, through his lashes and licks his lips. Jeno, in front of him, behind you, watches, equally frozen as you wrap your fingers into Jisung’s palm.

You sit on your heels, retreating even more, sinking your ass into Jeno. “You’re not being fair, Ji,” you whisper, peeling him finger-by-finger. He watches you drop into Jeno’s waiting arms and mumble something to him too - something Jisung can’t hear. And he frowns.

Jeno laughs. “Relax, princess.” He smiles at you innocently. “We’ve got you.”

You whisper something else, again, exclusive just to Jeno, and Jisung frowns deeper. Jisung pulls his sleeve into his left palm, scratching the hem so tightly that he hears the microfibers break (not really; the sounds of you whimpering for Jeno envelope his ears). Jeno laughs again, his shoulders rising, and you bring him back down to your lips.

Jisung crawls up your lap while you continue making out with Jeno, whose hands support your boobs above his Demon Slayer shirt, keeping you locked on him. You whimper something incoherent, and Jisung follows you with his eyes, his ears, his body. Through his lashes, he bitterly watches Jeno swallow your tongue, flicking it inside his mouth. You turn your head to the side, hand falling onto Jeno’s waist, your leg brushing his dick, obviously, by the way Jeno twitches in his pants.

And Jisung frowns. Again. Jisung flips you on your stomach and smirks, lopsidedly, when you yelp, which makes Jeno yelp because you bite his lip. He created a small domino effect.

“You’re not being fair, baby,” Jisung mumbles, sliding up the black t-shirt, pressing vibrating kisses down your abdomen. His fingers accidentally graze Jeno’s thumb, and both boys tighten their grasps on you, jostling you closer between them.

“Ugh,” you groan throatily. And Jisung takes the momentary lapse to climb up your torso, indirectly driving your ass into Jeno’s dick. “It’s h-hard,” you stutter, “balancing you both. I don’t know who to pay attention to.”

“Oh, princess,” Jeno calls softly, running the back of his hand down your cheek. Jisung feels compelled to look away, and he focuses on the waistband of your sweatpants. They are your sweatpants, he concludes. You spilled gochujang on the floor and your knees while making tteokbokki, that one time he visited you before work; you both decided, then, to not cook anymore. Jeno gives you another kiss, presumably, by the way silence seeps back into the bedroom. “Just pay attention to how you feel. You’ll feel so good,” he promises.

At that, Jisung drops down your thighs and folds your waistband lower. Instinctively, you lift your hips, giving him permission to take them off - which he does. Just the sweatpants. He stares at your underwear: a light coverage thong. The wide back string disappears between your ass. He slips one finger through both leg holes, briefly tugging the entire thing up. And you whine. You squirm into Jeno, grabbing his shoulder, gripping him tightly. Jisung pulls again, then slides his fingers down your panties, freeing your pussy completely. His knuckles skim your labia, and he feels you drool into his palm.

“Last chance, baby,” Jisung says loudly, one a few inches from your cunt. “One word, and I stop.”

You give him two: “Don’t stop.”

Jisung pushes your thighs more open, hooking them over Jeno’s legs. And Jeno, attached to your back, helps him, holding one of your knees firmly, his other hand closing under your chin, fisting your neck. Jisung pants on your pussy, his tongue flopping outside his mouth, drooling saliva onto your fluttering hole, too dazed in his admiration to taste you just yet. You should be used to this treatment - the way he makes you wait, makes you want him more, because he does it on purpose; he tells you that he does it on purpose because he likes your full attention. Jisung wetly kisses your inner thigh, where some of your pussy drool sticks. You kept squeezing your legs together and, now, you keep rocking up Jeno’s hard-on, spreading the dampness.

“Jisung,” you choke on Jeno’s lips, syllables chopped as you fight another moan to beg. He slurps your labia, kneading apart your ass cheeks. You paw his hair, fingers petting his scalp as you struggle to grasp him. Jeno drops his hands on your hips, massaging your sides. Eventually, he pulls his shirt up, exposing your tits. Jisung feels you tremble when Jeno pinches your nipples, and he licks your pussy harder. “Jeno,” you moan, rolling your hips. Your clit finds Jisung’s pretty nose, and he tilts his head to the side, spitting more saliva in your hole.

“Pretty girl,” Jisung mumbles. He kisses your pussy, then laps his tongue inside, rolling it into a little cup that can hold your clit, flicking the tip from behind. “Greedy girl.” Jisung sucks one last time before he stands up. And you whine, instantly grabbing him by the hair, weakly guiding him back to your legs. “Baby, I’m so hot -”

“Yeah,” you agree, moaning. Jisung watches Jeno’s fingers slowly replace him, touching just outside your pussy. You mewl, so high-pitched, and turn into him.

“Are you going to let me leave a mark, princess?” Jeno asks, your mouths breathing on each other. Jisung can hear the way his breath hitches, and he works faster to take off his clothes. “Hmm?” Jeno nurses your neck, behind your ear. “Gonna look so pretty covered in me?” He slowly straddles you, kissing you impatiently. “Princess, answer me,” Jeno mumbles, “Otherwise, I’ll stop.”

“No,” you sob, in protest, not an answer, Jisung assumes, as you claw Jeno’s bare shoulder. “You - you can leave a mark.”

Jisung pauses, at the foot of your bed, where he stands, hoodie in hand, shirtless. He meets your eye, over Jeno’s shoulder, the latter caging you, as disproportionately naked as him, to the bed. You gulp, blinking away from Jisung. He tilts his head to see you better, scanning your face. You always let him mark you. He’s left tiny hickeys and bruises along your collarbone, thighs, hips, any place, really, that you would let him. Granted, they’re superficial, but still, Jisung frowns, you let him mark you all the time. He tucks his own hair behind his ear, puffing his cheeks before he joins you again.

Jisung’s knee dips into the bed, as you and Jeno brush each other’s hair away from your faces, smiling at each other. Intimate. Jisung looks at his giant hands. Sex is intimate. Obviously. He knows. You may not be his first (or last; he slept with Yooyeon a couple weeks ago), but Jisung knows how intimate sex is. This moment, though, between you and Jeno keeps his attention on the ground. He doesn’t want to be the first person to strip completely naked. It would accelerate the mood, would insert him in your moment. and he’s not sure whether you want that. Even though he wants things to move along. He wants to touch you, too, again. Things go faster when he has you alone; mostly because he has to leave almost just as quickly. Not always, but most of the time.

He wonders if this is how you and Jeno set your pace, or if he is just the outlier.

“S-sung,” you hiccup, cutting him off before he gets too far in his head. You took off your shirt, too, while he wasn’t looking. Your free hand slides down the bedsheets, fumbling through the folds for him, while your other hand holds Jeno steady at bay. And automatically, Jisung threads his fingers into yours, pressing a kiss where your thumbs meet. “You’re so far away,” you whisper, tugging him into the mix. “Come here.”

Jisung falls next to your sides and kisses the skin under your boobs. He slips his hand between you and Jeno, gently repositioning you in the middle. It breaks you two apart (you and Jeno), and you both stare up at him, again, as if he knows what to do, just because he said to take this step-by-step.

And maybe he does.

“Can you start taking us, baby?” Jisung whispers, softly, voice small. He pulls down your lip with his thumb, and before he can take it back, you swallow it, nodding down to his web.

“Ye-yeah.”

“Princess?” Jeno asks between a kiss, his eyes closed. “Do you think you can take two cocks in your mouth?”

Jisung snaps his neck up, but Jeno just stares at you intently. He … His dick twitches. Jisung didn’t think beyond the logistics, to be honest. He knew that you would work overtime, to accommodate him and Jeno, that your holes would be filled at any given time, but both of them? Simultaneously? Jisung had to train your esophagus, for weeks, just to take half his cock, then another couple sleepovers to take the rest. Nevermind actual penetration, which seemed to take longer, your pussy suffocating the both of you.

“Jen, I don’t think -”

“I can do it,” you interrupt, shaking your head. Both boys widen their eyes, and you sit up, rubbing their arms. You give Jisung a longer squeeze, convincing him that you’ll be okay, then push them both on their backs. Jeno crashes into the mattress first, fast, but Jisung … He falls slower, walking on his elbows to read your body language. You wobble tall, on your knees, and your hands shake a little, so Jisung holds one - the one on his chest. He rubs tiny circles into the back of your hand, just staring at you, making sure you know that he notices you. “I can do it,” you reassure Jisung.

And Jeno briefly looks at him too, when you go to untie their pants. “This’ll make it easier, la-later,” he explains, “when we both - fuck - fuck her - Mmmh.”

You push your fingers into Jeno’s mouth, restraining his tongue. Then, you nod at Jisung, direct with eye contact, and they realize that he mouthed ‘quiet’. Inversely, Jeno hollows his cheeks around your hand, trapping your fingers when you try to pull away. You scrunch your nose at him and push him harder into the mattress.

It’s impossible, Jisung thinks, not to catch Jeno’s dick, even out the corner of his eye. He might even believe that his body has a built-in echolocation with the way you slobber down Jeno’s dick first. You barely managed to get their pants off, discarding them over the edge of your bed (Jisung didn’t even realize when you finished undressing them) before you grease Jeno’s dick with your saliva and dry rub Jisung. He feels you work him slowly, slower than you move on Jeno, maybe even gentler. Any thoughts he had about yours and Jeno’s pace goes in one ear, out the other, and he almost recants it completely. You might just be slower with him, because he’s fast to get you naked.

You pull off of Jeno, with a hoarse groan, mouth open. Your lips glisten under the ceiling light, too, swollen. And Jeno is first to compliment you. Jisung thinks he sounds so far away, even though their elbows nearly touch. Your index finger ruffles Jisung’s slit, tracing the outline with the pad of your finger. His hole twitches, and the entire length throbs, then you swallow him, only partially, choking a little less than halfway down. You offset the rest of his cock by playing with his balls, fondling them like large Baoding balls.

“H-how are you going to take us both, baby?” Jisung stutters, half-still apprehensive. “You can’t even take me all the way.”

“‘M cam doom it,” you mumble, indignantly, almost telling him to stop doubting you. “‘M wamt to doom mit so bad.”

Jisung just thinks you look cute like this: small and defiant, mouth wide and throat destroyed, squeezing your legs together and milling your own clit between your thighs.

And he wants to ruin you.

You take Jeno’s cock first, sucking tightly on just the tip. And Jeno groans, throwing his head into the blankets with an audible thud. He screws his eyes tight, fists accidentally bumping into Jisung’s hip. It takes Jisung less than a second to realize that Jeno is trying not to face fuck you, which is honestly more control than he would have in the same position - which is also saying something because his entire body currently burns.

You stick to three easy moves: head bobbing up and down; tongue keeping the tip inside your mouth; wrists jerking back and forth. And Jisung knows them all so well. Jisung has cum from them all, on multiple occasions. Jisung could cum again, right now, from all of them.

You pull off Jeno, slowly, sizing up his penis with slightly narrowed eyes. Jisung almost asks again, this time more concerned, if you’re sure, before you bump their dicks, together, on your lips, trailing their precum across the vermillion. You feed them into your mouth, just the tips, stretching out the corners. Jisung feels the veins in Jeno’s cock graze his own tip, as you shake your head down both of them. You unintentionally swallow more of Jeno, nearly pushing Jisung out of your mouth, but you slowly push him back in, and they both groan again.

“Careful, princess,” Jeno grunts, when your teeth graze their dicks. You purr, obediently, and Jisung feels your tongue soothe the lines in their cocks. “Fuck, shit, yeah, like that.”

Jisung bites his lip, turning it white. His fingers itch to touch you, and he almost reaches forward, but Jeno, by his side, keeps fisting the blankets, so he keeps his hands to himself, letting you jerk them off. Your mouth squeezes their dicks together. You try to keep them separate, even licking a gap between their tips, but Jeno thrusts forward, bulging your cheeks with both of them. Jisung wipes a tear from the corner of your eye and cradles your face as you noisily swallow more, choking once they hit your breaking point. You continue gagging on their tips, barely a quarter of their cocks (more of Jeno’s) filling your mouth, before you take them out, holding them in one hand. Your fingers don’t close properly, like an adjustable bracelet, or cock ring if Jisung were luckier. Jeno’s dick rests higher than Jisung’s, looking half an inch longer, and you realign them more equally, their tips stacked Jisung on top of Jeno. You stroke them, tightly, together, and Jisung could cum like this, with both loads pointing to your face, Jeno’s cock throbbing above his.

But Jeno stops you.

And Jisung whines, like a kicked puppy, his pouty eyes fluttering to him.

“I want to cum inside you,” Jeno clarifies, staring at you.

It makes Jisung question Jeno’s refractory period, then he considers that this might just be awkward for all of you, more than anyone is revealing, or this might be Jeno’s way of taking it easy on you - Jisung can’t decide. He does remember liking the prospect of Jeno’s initial proposition though: the both of them fucking you. And he decides to prep you. But the moment Jisung splits your legs open, tired of you squeezing your thighs together emptily, without them, you start rutting your cunt over his fingers, piercing whines ascending.

“Jisung,” you cry, voice cracking in the middle. “Jisung, please, gimme.” He almost laughs. Cute. You roll your hips in wide circles, trying to slip his fingers past your pussy lips - a tactic you have used on him recently. Just the other day, actually, when he had to answer some texts from his friends on their discord server. He should have been paying attention to you, honestly, hence why he went over, not to completely ignore you in your own bed. So, now, he lets your pussy swallow two of his long fingers (his middle and ring fingers), but he pulls his palm down, not letting you cum so fast. A little bit of payback, even though Jeno stopped the double blow job.

You turn your face into the pillow and fist the meat of it, suppressing even more of your whines. The bed dips in front of you, and you screw your ass into the mattress.

“Jeno?” You look up at him. And Jisung flings his eyes with you, mouth a hair away from your cunt. “Jeno?” you ask again, as if he would give you the relief. Your tongue pokes above your bottom lip as you pant, entirely breathless, your forehead sweating.

But Jisung draws your attention, curling his long fingers. They bend awkwardly, knuckles pointed in opposite directions, and you arch your back off the bed. “Can you cum like this, baby?” Jisung asks, mostly curious, half-teasingly.

You stare at him wide-eyed, biting your lip nervously, then shake your head. No.

Jeno pulls one of your legs to the side, lifting in the air to cut off the friction that Jisung gives you. He sucks a tiny, little circle behind your knee, and you whine again. And Jisung groans. Your thighs felt so good around his ears, goading him further into your pussy. He dives even deeper, adding his lips on your clit. Jisung pushes the pads of his fingers downward, completely twisting his wrist 180-degrees. Then, he takes away his fingers and suckles your clit, his jaw moving obnoxiously wide to devour your pussy whole.

“Can you try, princess?” Jeno mumbles into your flesh, nipping around the skin. “You’re doing so well, right now. I’m so fucking hard.” He puts your leg back down and slips his cock in the crevice behind your knee, now soaked with his saliva and your pre-cum. Jisung, too, is equally hard, if not harder, as he languidly jerks off, pointing his slick cock in your blankets. “Can you cum like this?”

“No,” you object, though Jisung feels otherwise. “I wan - I want to cum on your cocks.”

Cocks.

Plural.

Jisung sucks harder, accidentally, choking on his own gasp, and you shriek, cumming all over his lips.

“Fu - ah - ck,” you shriek, breaking the single syllable in half.

Jisung keeps going, cleaning your pussy. It clenches around his tongue, and you have to yank his hair, pulling him on your stomach, to stop him. He gives you another kiss, around your belly button, praising your body for cumming so well.

“She’s a liar, Ji,” Jeno grunts, pushing his cock all the way through your knee.

“Mmhmm,” Jisung agrees, feeding his dick into your loose hand. “Begged for two cocks in her mouth, then came with an empty hole.”

“Is that it? Hm?” Jeno replaces Jisung between your legs, circling the tip of his cock around your entrance. Jisung looks down at your glistening folds, pulsing around nothing. So, this is how your pussy looks, he thinks, when you beg him fuck you. It’s so wet and sticky, and your labia flanks outward, exposing your swollen clit like a diamond setting. “You don’t need to be filled, princess? Is that it?”

You lift your hips up, in the same manner that you took Jisung’s fingers, and slip Jeno’s cock inside your pussy, a little more than halfway. “Ah, Jeno, no, please, please,” you whine. Jisung would cave, almost caves. And he thrusts even faster in your hand. “I want you so bad.” You prop yourself on your elbows, incidentally squeezing the middle of Jisung’s dick, which makes him groan. “I want you both so bad.”

“Fuck.” Jeno puts a hand on your stomach and fills you in one thrust. “You always clench my cock so nicely.”

“God,” Jisung groans, copying Jeno’s hips. “I need to be inside you, soon, baby.” He screws his eyes shut tightly, willing himself not to cum, because he could. He could cum like this. He actually could have cum at any point today, so far, if you and Jeno would let him, but also, “I want you, too, baby. I want you.”

Jisung opens his eyes, instantly, when you squeak, and finds you already staring at him. “You … you can …” You bite your lip, and Jeno stops thrusting, slowing down; he also grabs your boobs to still the moment.

“Go ahead, baby,” Jisung encourages you, breath winded, voice hoarse.

“You can both fuck me,” you whisper, then bat your lashes, innocently toward Jisung. "At the same time, please?"

Jeno squeezes your ass. “Mm, you liked having two cocks in your mouth that much?” He groans, and Jisung looks at where Jeno buries himself inside you. “Fuck, you’re clenching so much.”

“You need to be filled, huh?” Jisung licks his lips. He watches Jeno lift your ass up, arching your lower back, adjusting his entire cock inside your pussy. You almost look like the videos he takes of you sitting on his cock. “Turn her around, Jen.” He wants to see you, but more importantly, he wants to prep you.

Jeno obeys (after three more quick thrusts) and slides his dick into your pussy from behind, the shaft skimming the curves of your ass. He lays on his back, taking you with him, and Jisung spreads your legs, again hooking them over Jeno’s before descending on your heavenly pussy again.

“Won’t take too long,” Jisung promises, even though he flicks your clit with his tongue. It tempts him to lie. But then, he catches a small taste of Jeno’s dick and readjusts taller. He would rather not get hit in the chin by Jeno's balls.

“S-sensitive,” you squeal, the moment Jisung’s lips retouch your pussy. He retracts a second, mouth parted, but you dissolve into staccato moans as Jeno steadily fucks you slower. “Mmhmm,” you answer nothing, “Feels so good.”

Jisung goes back to your pussy and sucks your clit on time, hard, cheeks hollowed, as Jeno carries your legs in the air, his entire cock fed to the base inside your hole. You whimper again, thighs shaking, knees twitching toward Jisung’s ears. And Jisung pushes his fingers in your cunt, three at once. His knuckles hit your labia, grazing beside Jeno’s dick, almost slipping out again, but your hole squeezes the both of them, forcing Jisung’s palm up, his three long digits curling into the tight space. And, shit, you’re still throbbing. Jeno is throbbing. Jisung looks at his own cock, flopping between his legs, aching, and he humps the air.

He is so hot, so warm right now, that if anyone touched his dick, he would cum on the spot.

“Jisung, I -” you choke, letting him know what he found. Incidentally, he pushed his fingers all the way inside your cunt, pressing the pads of his fingers down. He can feel Jeno’s cock skid on his knuckles, and he has to inhale deeper.

“Hnn, princess,” Jeno heaves, tightening his hands on your legs, lifting you higher. You instinctively grab Jisung with your feet, keeping some attachment to the ground. “It’s my cock. Inside you. Say my name too.”

“Jeno,” you moan.

And Jisung feels your cunt suck him closer, which pulls him toward your clit again. He sucks it, of course. His mouth pushes apart your lips, making your clit stand out, and Jisung closes around it, tongue flicking the hard underside.

“Jeno, Jeno,” you chant as both boys fill you to the brim.

Jisung hunches over your pussy, adding more pressure on your stomach, essentially driving Jeno’s cock even further up your cervix.

“Ah, ah, ah,” you whine, voice breaking higher and higher. You start shaking your head and biting your lip. “Jisung, fu- shit.” You close your eyes, fisting the sheets. “Jisung, I’m ready, you can - shit, shit -“ Your boobs bounce widely. “You can fuck me now, too.”

Jisung kisses your pussy one more time, and Jeno graduates down to a pause. They glance at each other a second, before Jisung grabs his dick, stroking it a few times with your pussy drool. Yeah, they’re really going to do this. No going back. Jisung slides the tip of his dick above Jeno’s, pushing through the initial resistance. All three of you moan, and Jisung has to anchor himself on your waist, panting a few times before continuing. He feeds a full inch inside your pussy, then another, and another. When he gets a third of the way inside, his dick bends under Jeno’s. Neither of them realize it until their cocks curve into each other like pretzels.

“Oh, fuck, there - you - it’s so much,” you babble, biting back high pitched squeaks. “You’re so big,” you say to no one in particular. Jisung knows they’re both above average.

“God,” Jeno is the first to say after your pussy gets filled completely.

Jisung stumbles on the last thrust, accidentally pulling out an inch, dragging Jeno with him, before he shoves them both back inside you. The double helix makes it hard for any of you to move, minus the rapid twitching from your hips.

Every time Jeno pulls out, he has to slam back up, balls slapping, just to bottom out again. He ends up catching your ass, spreading both cheeks for a wider hole. And every time Jisung starts thrusting, he can’t commit to one fluid movement, stuttering between two pairs of legs. He pushes one of your thighs into your chest, biting light kisses around your ankle like little charms.

You clench around them, and Jisung spanks you.

“Don’t clench, baby,” he whimpers. “I want to fuck you for a long time.”

You try to release, wiggling your ass down Jeno’s abs, and Jeno moans. Jeno brushes your hair off your shoulder, biting rough kisses around your carotid. Jisung feels their tips bump each other, your cervix nearly tying them together. He keeps thrusting, tracing the outline of Jeno’s dick into your pussy walls. Jisung grunts and plants his arms around you and Jeno, snapping his hips deeper.

“Fuck, Jisung,” Jeno moans, “When did you get so good at this?”

Jisung doesn’t really have an answer - that he wants to share. He just knows how to please you. Well, he knows how to please a lot of different people, but he keeps that to himself. Neither you nor Jeno need to hear all the ways he practices his techniques. You, though, are his favorite guinea pig, for the obvious reasons.

“You both just feel so good,” Jisung praises.

And much to his surprise, Jeno whimpers. Jeno bites his lip and digs his fingers into your waist, lifting you easily, like a simple fleshlight. You yelp, with the first thrust, then relax into his neck, moaning hotly.

“‘M gonna cum,” Jeno breathes, open mouthed, driving his head into the pillows for better leverage. He roots his feet in the mattress and lifts his hips, trying to match Jisung. “Just like that,” he moans, “Yeah, eung, hnn, so c-close.” Jeno thrusts faster and faster, getting faster than Jisung, who sticks with long, sharp movements to keep both cocks buried inside your pussy.

“Je-Jen, S-sung,” you gargle, twisting and turning.

Jisung pins you onto Jeno, crunching over you. He smashes his lips onto yours, feeling you and Jeno get closer and closer to your orgasms. Your pussy squeezes and squeezes without relief; Jeno starts shaking, slowing down his thrusts, which has Jisung overcompensating for the lapse (so that he can cum too; there is something so intimate about everyone cumming together, and he doesn’t know if he can handle being left out, especially by you).

Jisung kisses you again. He feels Jeno’s cock swell through the base, but Jisung kisses you again. You reciprocate, as much as you can, given that two boys fill your pussy to the brim, moments after your first orgasm, after edging you for half an hour, and Jisung accepts every bit. He savors it.

Jeno cums first, then you, a millisecond after, as if triggered by it. And the way you pant into his mouth, breathless, choking on your own moan, has Jisung grunting quickly to join you. He kitten licks a small part of your tongue back into your mouth, then slams your lips together, nearly bruising himself on your teeth as his orgasm rushes full force. Jisung didn’t even realize it had been building, too enraptured by the taste of your kiss. But his abdomen tightened and his hips popped, and he feels himself slowly release all the tension in each muscle. His sore cock splatters all over your cunt, the tip bouncing on Jeno’s dick.

Jisung pecks you once, twice, chastely, incessantly, thrice. You mumble an mmm, smothered by his repetitive embraces, and he lifts your chin, too, for easier access, with his index finger and thumb.

“You did so good, baby,” Jisung whispers, his lips resonating. “So good.” He blinks at you, brushing away your hair. “So pretty.” Then, he gets up. But you stop him, a hand on his strong bicep, and he laughs. “Someone needs to clean you two,” he nags lightly. And Jisung usually works through his exhaustion anyways. He goes to sleep at 1 or 3 AM, eventually waking up a few hours later for his early schedules. Plus, you and Jeno look like you could collapse. This … activity might not have been his idea, but he still feels inclined to repay you both for letting him into your intimate moment.

Jisung grabs both his and Jeno’s cocks in one hand, enveloping their dwindling shafts easily. He accidentally jerks them off, and Jeno grunts - to which he apologizes repeatedly. Cum follows them, mixed together in one giant puddle, absolutely drooling down your gaping hole. Cautiously, Jisung bows his head, between yours and Jeno’s legs, pushing all four a little bit wider. He uses Jeno’s dick - just the tip - to catch some cum, wiping it away and licks the excess. Both of you whine. Jisung apologizes, quietly, but still his two fingers push the cum back inside you. He feels your pussy squeeze around him again, and he feels the pool of cum just resting in your throbbing cervix.

Jisung licks his fingers clean a moment after, not completely ready for another round, then tugs on his pants and goes into the hallway bathroom. He blinks, rapidly, after he flicks on the lights, and examines himself in the mirror.

You left a few marks, as you usually do, but it reminds him that Jeno asked for permission to mark you. And Jisung frowns. He stopped asking around the fifth consecutive day that you slept together. Maybe he should start asking again, he thinks while running a washcloth under the tap. Jisung catches himself in the mirror again, then, without turning off the water just yet, he touches the bruises and scratches adorning his clavicle. One of them resembles a cloud. He thought of you, the other day, when he saw one, but just like a cloud, the thought passed after Renjun messaged their discord server.

“Okay, this isn’t too hot, but -” Jisung walks back to your room, but he stops outside the door frame and hides behind it.

“You did so good, baby,” Jeno commends lazily, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. While Jisung was gone, you shifted into Jeno’s arms, burying your face in his chest too. “Baby?” Jisung frowns. He calls you ‘baby’. Jeno calls you ‘princess’. Or, at least, that was the unspoken agreement today, especially since Jisung claimed it first. Jisung strains his ears as Jeno hums; you must have said something, incoherently.

“I asked -” You lift your head, enunciating more clearly, though your voice sounds hoarse. “- if you’re going to leave, too." Your voice get clearer, "Jen?"

Jisung frowns. He also used that nickname with Jeno. It makes him wonder if you interchangeably used nicknames between the two of them, or anyone else with whom you sleep. Not that Jisung can complain.

“What? No, of course not, princess.”

When silence permeates the room again, Jisung walks inside. Jeno catches him first and presses a single finger to his lips. Shh. He pulls back your hair, showing off your closed eyes and steady breathing, and Jisung nods. You fell asleep. Jeno looks two steps away from falling asleep, too. Jisung sucks in a breath, then wipes down your thighs. He innocently kisses the spot around your knee, no intention behind it, and slips a shirt onto you, briefly taking you away from Jeno for a second. You stir, making him cradle you a second. He waits for you to slip back deeper into sleep and traces little circles in your arms, then hands you off to Jeno.

Jisung ignores Jeno’s curious stare and retreats into the kitchen, making sure to grab his hoodie and phone on his way out.

“Hey, so - Relax. It’s just me.”

Jisung jumps, drawing a ceramic cup toward his chest to avoid dropping it in your kitchen … again. He broke one, the first time he slept over at your apartment, after accidentally bumping his hip on the island. You cleaned it up for him that time, but he made a point to never do it again by getting to know your kitchen - hence why he uses the ceramic cups, not the slippery glass ones. Jisung turns around slowly, also careful not to spill water on the tile.

Jeno stands behind him. “Do you like her?”

Jisung’s tongue rolls down his jaw, head pausing on half a nod. But he stops. He stops to scan Jeno’s expression.

“Why are you asking?” he counters tentatively, loudly enunciating each syllable. He puts the cup on the counter and crosses his arms over his hoodie, forearms exposed ever since he rolled up his sleeves. The vulnerability from the last few hours wore off when he left the bed, and he desperately needed a cover after seeing Jeno tuck you in the duvet.

Jeno shrugs. “It seemed like you did.” Do. “Back there.”

Jisung licks the seam between his lips, drawing a quick breath. “Do you?”

“Eh, not really.” Jeno moves around the cabinets. He goes to the bottom drawer, the one with the Tupperware, then closes it and opens another. Jisung watches him rifle through a few more cabinets before finding the honey butter chips you keep on a shelf under the island. Jeno stares at Jisung a hard second, fingers peeling the bag open, before he retracts, “Not like that.” Jeno opens the bag and eats a fist full of chips. “We just sleep together occasionally.”

Yeah, but … Jisung puffs his cheeks and brushes his hair through the middle. What does ‘occasionally’ even mean? “I’ve never heard you call anyone ‘princess’ before,” he mumbles, suddenly searching for his water.

It’s right next to him.

“I’ve never heard you call anyone ‘baby’ before,” Jeno mocks, muffled by a chip - which is a lie by the way. Jisung frequently uses the term of endearment with anyone he wants on his arm. And Jeno has seen it, or been the victim of it. Plus, “baby” is arguably the most common nickname between couples. Not that you and he are a couple; you’re not exclusive. He said that earlier.

Jisung frowns. “Are you sure?”

“Am I sure about what? That I’ve never heard you call anyone ‘baby’?” Jeno wipes his hand on his pants and folds the bag closed. “No, I think you called that bartender ‘baby’ a couple weeks ago when we went out for Haechan’s birthday.” Right, and Jisung left your apartment early that day, too.

“N …” Are you sure you don’t like her? Jisung stops himself, again. He’s not sure whether or not he can handle the answer. “Then why do you think I like her? Because of a nickname?”

“No, Jisung,” Jeno sighs, brushing his hair away from his forehead. His defined biceps flex along with his pecs, and Jisung tugs on his own sleeves, covering his palms. “That was you. I was just teasing.” Jeno purses his lips, scanning Jisung.

“Then what?”

Jisung leans on the tops of his toes, a quiet fist resting on the counter. He always wears his heart on his sleeve, wiping away every emotion off his face, because he never actually says it out loud. He doesn’t even think he’s mentioned you to his friends, not even to Renjun, the one who helps him organize his thoughts the most. Jisung keeps his sex life relatively private from everyone, much to their annoyance as they swap sex stories on occasion. He sighs. Evidently, he kept it too private, given the intimate way he just unintentionally introduced you to his group.

“The way you lo -”

“You know,” you grumble, walking pants-less into the kitchen, only Jeno’s stupid Demon Slayer shirt covering your legs, “aftercare if allegedly important.” You rub your eyes and slowly blink them open, staring first at Jisung, who quickly averts his gaze.

His water is really interesting.

“Only a couple minutes,” Jeno answers, voice initially pointed at Jisung, curious, before he slowly turns to you. “Sorry, did we wake you?”

“No,” you reply, faster, slipping onto the stool closest to Jisung. He passes you his water, and you take a small sip, holding it in both hands an extra second before giving it back. “I was just wondering where you went. I might have been offended if you just hit it and quit it.”

“If you wanted another round, princess, you could’ve just waited,” Jeno laughs. “We’d be back in a second.” His voice tells you not to worry, incidentally soothing Jisung, too, because it ends the previous conversation and Jisung won’t have to concern himself with whether or not Jeno lied to him about having feelings for you. If he does, Jisung will back off and stop sleeping with you. If he doesn’t, then … Jisung has to cope with the consequences of his actions.

Jisung reaches his hand across the table and rubs the back of your palm with his thumb. “When have we ever done that?” Jeno is right. They would have gone back to bed with you, just out of sheer fatigue. Or, Jisung might have laid in the living room. Your couch is incredibly comfortable, and he’s spent a night or two there before today.

“You haven’t,” you answer him, before inhaling sharply and withdrawing your hands into your lap. “Not recently.” Not anymore! (mostly). “You did when we …” You glance at Jeno, then whisper, “when we first started sleeping together.”

Jisung winces. Yeah. He also catches Jeno’s darting eyes. Yeah. It was mostly before he had to work or when he had to meet up with his friends, not willing to take you with him. Although, that turned out so well. Jisung chews his inner lip. He hasn’t left before you woke up in a long time, but maybe friends with benefits is a bad thing without exclusivity. Jisung doesn’t regret the threeway - it was hot; ten out of ten would do it again. It’s just that some unspoken secret now hangs over all of you.

“Should we do it again?”

You and Jisung look at Jeno, then at each other, then back at Jeno, who raises his arms like white flags.

“We don’t have to,” he says smoothly. “It was just an offer, since it seems like no one is going anywhere anytime soon, and we don’t have much to talk about right now.”

Right now.

Jisung’s breath catches in his throat, and he glances at your side profile, waiting for you to say something first.

“Yeah, sure, I don’t have plans today.”

Jisung kisses the shell of your ear while rutting just outside your pussy.

You whined something, just before he pushed you onto the bed, about them needing to take care of you because you still felt sore from earlier. He complies, of course, simply giving you tiny massages: his dick rubs your labia; his hands knead your sides; his lips mouth along your jaw.

“You’re so …” Jisung’s voice dies in his throat. And he glances across the other half of your bed, where Jeno is folding his pants onto a chair. He could praise you, in this isolated moment of privacy. He could call you pretty and baby, like he does when you’re alone, like he praised you the last few hours, but somehow, that, now, feels more intimate than his best friend getting to know him this well. So, he settles elsewhere, falling on his hips. Jisung tucks your hair behind your ear (it slips out easily) then pulls your back against his chest, the hem of Jeno’s shirt riding up your ass. He lifts one of your legs above his waist and slides his dick over your folds again, the tip catching your hole each time up. “Still sensitive?”

You nod, a little too absentmindedly, and lully your head into the crevice of his neck, your jugular now exposed with a soft moan.

Jisung calls your name. It’s a bit impossible, from this angle, to whisper in your ear, so he doesn’t try. Your shoulders roll forward, and your hips dig deeper into the mattress, all just a second, before you relax in his arms. Jisung catches Jeno during the moment though, and Jeno raises an eyebrow, which Jisung ignores.

He just says your name again, instead, asking, “Do you need a break?”

“No,” you mumble. You shake your head, leaning more on the mattress than him now, burying your face in the blankets. “Just …” You sigh. Jisung feels it through your entire chest. He pulls your hair away from your cheeks and kisses up your shoulder, to your neck, to your ear, nearly folding your legs in half. You stop him, pulling your legs together and dragging his arm across your stomach, under the t-shirt. “Just go slow,” you ask, “For now?”

Jeno kneels onto the bed now too, only wearing his boxers. He lifts your face with his index finger, saying:

“Of course, princess, whatever you want.”

He kisses you, deeply, slotting his mouth around your bottom lips, audibly sucking. Jisung feels you relax, slightly, and he pecks the back of your neck to be part of the ensemble too.

“You took a lot,” Jeno says softly, “Earlier. Let us take care of you now.” He glances at Jisung, and Jisung nods, singularly.

“We got you,” Jisung agrees. He cranes down to your nipples, sucking and biting. And you gasp into Jeno’s mouth, Jisung’s name, broken, on your lips. He travels up your neck, gently plucking you away from Jeno (which is fine, since you started jerking him off).

“I’m right here, baby,” Jisung mumbles.

He’s not going anywhere. Still though, you thread five fingers in his hair and yank.

“Shit,” Jisung moans.

“I like it when you swear,” you tell him, eyes half-lidded.

“Mmm, you’re so fucking good for me.” Jisung rarely swears. He prefers to praise you. But sometimes, you catch him off guard, and it’s the only thing he remembers to say. “‘M gonna fuck you now, okay?”

You nod. Okay.

Jisung inhales and grabs his hard dick. He strokes it once, twice, sliding it over your wet cunt, drenching himself in your natural lubricant. You exhale shakily, anticipatorily. Jisung feels you shake your hips, so he holds you down again then enters your pussy in one fluid motion, and you clench around him instantly, wrapping your legs around his tiny waist.

“Fuck, baby,” Jisung whines, shallowly thrusting half his cock toward your cervix. “Je-Jen, how many times did she cum today? She’s so - shit, shit - sensitive.”

“I don’t know,” Jeno babbles, and Jisung turns his head to him. You swallowed his cock, laying there pliantly while both guys wreck your holes. This is what Jisung had in mind, to be honest, earlier when Jeno first suggested that he stay - one of them pounding your pussy and the other bruising your esophagus.

“Maybe six,” Jeno guesses, raising his brows even though he screwed his eyes shut.

“Six? Jesus.” Jisung straightens his back and brushes his hair backwards. No wonder you and Jeno were putty in his hands.

“Do I need to catch up, baby?”

Jisung stacks your legs together, and his thighs slam into your ass. You’ve felt prepped all afternoon, a byproduct of having slept with Jeno already, but shit, Jisung still struggles to bottom out completely, as if your pussy resizes to the perfect, most snug fit. Even your hands find his and perfectly clasp your fingers under his.

“You’re so -” Jisung moans your name, then he bites his lip, slowing down again, his hips making sharp punctures.

“Mmmm,” you blubber, choking on Jeno’s dick.

Your eyes roll back and your tongue pushes Jeno out of your mouth. Everyone moves too fast for Jisung, in contrast with what he wanted earlier, so he angles his dick away from your spongey, little G-spot.

“Jiji,” you whine, slightly muffled. Jeno’s dick hangs on your tongue like a lollipop, the tip as equally glossy from your spit. You hold him by the base, and the shaft involuntarily bobs in and out of your mouth. “Ji, n-no, harder, harder, please.” Your nails claw into his carpal bones, painting his veins more prominently.

Jisung kisses the junction between your boobs.

“I’m going slow,” he tells you, like you asked. He kisses you again, in the same place, loitering another moment. “Let me take care of you.” Jisung flickers his eyes and tongue up your neck, missing the way you looked at him.

“Seems like you enjoy slow,” you mumble, taking Jeno’s cock back in your mouth, gargling again.

Jisung frowns. “Is that a bad thing?”

You shake your head, no.

Before you can answer him, Jeno moans, loudly - because you still suckle his cock.

“Ba - Princess,” he coughs. “I’m gonna cum.”

You purl something incomprehensible, so Jisung has to look up one more time: Jeno flimsily pushes half his dick in your mouth, and you squeeze the base. He could thrust more, if he wanted, because you can take it, but given the way you came six times already, nevermind how many he did, Jisung guesses that Jeno might be overly sensitive, too.

And he’s proven right, another moment when Jeno cums again today.

“Fuck,” Jeno groans, flopping down on the bed almost a foot away, “I don’t think I have anymore cum in me, princess.”

You swallow, audibly though not very thickly and crawl your torso toward him to plant a kiss on his shoulder. Jisung looks away. He pokes out his tongue to lick his lips, but you stop him. You climb into his lap, almost toppling him over, had his core strength not been as firm. He steadies you, at your waist, and simply scans your face; he can’t read you. Jisung likes to think that knows you well enough to decipher all your emotions, but all he can do now is stare. And you stare back, slowly sinking into his arms. You slide your arms down his shoulders, clasping your hands behind his neck. Jisung parts his lips again, tongue hanging on his bottom lip. You lap it back into his mouth.

“You’re gonna get dry, sweetheart,” you whisper, lips vibrating, “and I like it when you’re wet.”

“Mmm,” Jisung mumbles, unwilling to fight back.

Your knees dip into the mattress, on both sides of his tiny waist, as you steadily rock into him. Jisung’s hands meet your hips, guiding you down all the way, harder. He claws at your ass, both cheeks, dragging you into a stable pace that doesn’t disturb the other half of your queen-sized bed. You yank his hair back and slot your lips together in tune with the tempo at which your hips move.

“Feels so fucking good,” Jisung groans lowly. His deep voice resonates through his own ears. “Really, really good, baby,” he repeats. You whine, quietly, breathily, hotly. And he feels your hips twitch. Jisung smirks. He knows how much you love his raspy voice. Sometimes, he teases you over the phone, asking if you can cum just from hearing him. It might also feed your dirty praise kink (that you vehemently deny). Jisung cups the side of your face and puckers his lips prematurely, before drawing you closer. “I need you to cum, baby. Can you cum for me, hmm?”

“Y-you can cum first,” you tell him, almost trying to convince him. You even swirl your hips in his tight grip. He keeps you locked in his arms, barely letting your ass leave his lap. And when your pussy clenches, getting tighter and tighter around his tip, Jisung groans in your neck. His biceps flex and squeeze you equally hard, and you run a single hand down his chest, pausing on his pecs, giving his nipple a little brush. And Jisung cums.

He cums so hard with your permission, slamming up into your cervix, just the once, until he empties his balls. Jisung kisses your shoulder, longly, repeating gentle pecks along your trapezius before slowly rocking his heavy cock between the ridges of your pussy walls. His thighs flutter, spanking your ass. He feels his cock still reach the back of your cunt, shaft thumping, pulsing, on your sensitive, squishy little spot. You pinch his pecs even harder, nails scratching toward his shoulders, and whine in his ears.

“Sung, sweetheart, babe, oh, my God, fuck,” you whimper, syllables chopped into shrill squeaks, eyes rolling to the back of your head. “Jisung, right there, yeah, fuck, fuck, Ji -” You cut yourself off on a moan and hug him around the neck, as tight as your orgasm rushes over you.

“Mmm, baby, shit,” Jisung moans, too. Your cunt throbs around him, wringing out the last of his cum. You teeter a little bit taller over him, slipping some of his cock out, and he feels your pussy drool down his thighs. “You squirt, baby?” You bite your lip and nod through your lashes. And Jisung kisses you again. He scanned your face first, blazing through the euphoria, then kissed you again, palm cupping your face, thumb drawing hearts in your cheek, lips closing around yours in long successions. “You’re so -” Jisung swallows, then pecks you quick. “You did so good, baby.”

“Mmm.” You kiss Jisung this time, holding him tight. “Jisungie, too. You are so perfect.”

You and Jisung stare at each other for a moment, probably a few seconds, before you break it to fix his hair. His after-sex hair usually looks worse, when you’re alone, because of all the times you pull his hair and all the times he twists his head in the sheets while you ride him. But now, he doesn’t know what it looks like, so he just trusts your judgement. You needlessly wipe your fingers in the blankets (he’ll clean it up later, he swears) and pluck his bangs perfectly into place.

“Do you think you can make it to the bathroom?” you ask. Jisung nods. “I’ll clean you up. Come on.”

True to your word, you run a small washcloth on Jisung’s most sensitive parts in your narrow bathroom. It was made to fit two people max, but he’s so tall, having gone (and still going) through so many growth spurts that you both have to bend into more ridiculous poses just to tend to each other. Jisung thinks you could have cleaned up independently, especially since you work in silence, but he didn’t want to share you again today (tonight?), not even with yourself.

Unfortunately, you left the room first, breaking the silence to talk about Jeno, who passed out in the other room (Jisung doesn’t blame him; if you came seven times today, half from the both of them, he can’t imagine what Jeno and his fragile refractory period went through). Jisung stayed, mostly to examine himself in the mirror and take one breath of fresh air. His eyes traced all the red lines in his skin. Some of them disappeared pretty quickly, but he found a hickey or two after lifting his arms.

You ultimately meet him in the kitchen, once he slips back into his hoodie and sweatpants, minus the t-shirt and boxers. Unlike Jeno though, you don’t scare him.

“Jisung?” you call, despite the direct eye contact. He tilts his cup of water at you, offering, but you raise your hand. “No, thanks.” You slide your hands up your hips, tucking them into the waistband of your athletic shirt, incidentally lifting your shirt - his shirt. Well, it looks like one of his missing Adidas shirts, just based on the length bunching behind your waist; he has to buy larger shirts to accommodate for his height. You inhale sharply.

“What’s … what’s up?” Jisung drinks more of his water.

“Can we talk?”

He purses his lips and stops himself from saying the obvious: that you’re already talking. Then, he remembers that Jeno could wake up at any second, and he puts his water back down.

“Ye - yeah.” Jisung approaches you, cautiously, his hands bringing your elbows down.

You fold, instantly, nuzzling your nose in his chest. Jisung can’t imagine how he smells, not having showered fully since the early morning. You, though, smell nice, smell sweet, as he accepts your hug, sinking into your hair.

“Don’t go,” you whisper, “this time. Please?”

Jisung glances at your bedroom. “You have Jeno,” he says cryptically. He has no intention of leaving just yet. “I don’t … “ Jisung sighs. You wait for him, while he finds the right words, trying to physically pull them into his mouth, and you’re first to pull away from the hug, staring at him. “I don’t leave.” Anymore hangs in the air - which doesn’t make it any less true. He stays, now; has stayed, after sex, for the last few months. But still, he left, in the beginning. “Hi,” Jisung whispers, like it can erase all the times he did leave. He smoothes the lines around your eyes.

“Hi,” you whisper back, albeit a little louder.

“Is … is that all?”

“No, I -” And it’s your turn to physically drag the right words into conversation.

Jisung wishes you both could be more direct. But it’s hard. He certainly can’t ask you for exclusivity, not after what just happened, not after predicating this … arrangement on a lack of exclusivity. And even worse, Jisung has an idea of what you want to ask him. He wants the same thing, hopefully. Some (a lot) doubt lingers, scratching the right part of his amygdala.

“You don’t have to say it,” Jisung tells you, his thumbs rubbing into your sides again. “We can always talk another time. I’m - I’m sorry,” he chokes, “that I came here unannounced. I’ll let you know in advance, in the future, so that we don’t … you don’t have overlapping … people at your apartment again.”

“Jisung …”

“Unless you want to do it again,” he rectifies, cutting you off. You always relinquish the floor to him, he noticed, and he takes advantage of it now. “I don’t mind sharing,” he lies, not so smoothly. “What - whatever you want.”

“Jisung.” You grab him by the face, making him look you in the eye. He does. Jisung freezes, hunching his shoulders to make it easier for you to hold him. “Can … can I say something, and you won’t …?” Jisung nods; he won’t leave, no matter what you say. “I … oh, God. I hate this.” You swallow once, then lick your lips and swallow again. “I want you.”

“You’re not tired?”

“No, Ji, I -” You sigh, and he feels it in your chest, the way your pulse quivers. “God, this is so embarrassing.”

“You don’t have to be embarrassed. Not with me.”

You take a deep breath and wince at the thought. Then you whisper something, incoherent, that he’s not sure anyone could hear or read off your lips, and he has to encourage you again.

“Jisung, I like you. So much.”

He stares at you, blinking so slow that his lashes might fall off. He barely registers when you start pulling away, and he scrambles to return you into his arms. You let him manhandle you, falling pliantly over his forearms. Jisung scans your face again, too. His hand creeps onto your cheeks, and you rest into his palm. Gradually, he leans down, without breaking eye contact. He connects your lips, tasting the light bitter taste from this afternoon, only briefly.

“Me, too,” Jisung breathes. “I like you so, so very much.” He presses a singular, chaste, long kiss to your mouth. “I wasn’t going to confess like this,” he admits, tongue breaking the spit on the seam of his lips. “I - I wanted to tell you, but I wasn’t sure how.” He swallows, nervously, but you alleviate it, smiling at him. “I thought it would be more romantic than this, to be honest.”

“You didn’t think about confessing to me with another guy watching?” you giggle, almost jumping into his arms to kiss him again, evidently not expecting a real answer. You do, by the way. You kiss him, this time, pecking to the tempo of Morse code. “So, you’ll stay?”

“Yeah,” Jisung nods, matching your smile. “We can even kick Jeno out, if you want.”

You slap his chest and scrunch your nose cutely. “Don’t be mean, Sung.”

“You’re right,” he concedes. “There’s always the couch.”

#im gonna be late for work because i NEEDED to finish this #i love this so much #the confession at the end is so sweet oh my god 😭#pjs #ljn

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raspberriesoda · 2 days

Text

paranoia » njm + ljn

genre | smut (mdni!!) jaemin x afab!reader x jeno

word count | 3k

summary | an innocent game of paranoia with your friends while on a ski trip makes you realize that maybe you never knew you wanted to fuck your boyfriend jaemin’s best friend. and maybe, your boyfriend is okay with that.

warnings | smut, swearing, alcohol consumption, threesome, unprotected sex but he pulls out, established relationship with jaemin, jeno is shy and a little bit of a perv ig?, dom!jaem sub!jen basically, cuckolding, lots of pet names from jaemin he’s a sweetie pie

a.n | this fic was purely self indulgent lmaoo, when i would go on choir ski trips in high school we would always play paranoia in the hot tub at the resort (no nomin threesome though unfortunately ugh unfair) and my bestie and i had major brainrot one day a few years later and uhh this was born!

also if anyone doesn’t know what paranoia is, basically you get a group of friends and sit in a circle, one person whispers a “who in the group is most likely to” type question to the person next to them so the rest of the group doesn’t hear it, and then they answer it out loud. if the person who asked wins rock paper scissors the other person has to reveal what the question was, but if they lose then the question remains a secret (i added the caveat that if you lose and you really don’t want to tell you can take a shot as a safety)

“ooohhh,” haechan muses, his hand scratching at his chin. he glances around the circle of his friends surrounding him in the hot tub, eyeing everyone very intently and contemplating the question ningning had just whispered in his ear.

“probably renjun,” he answers after some thought.

“renjun??” ningning gapes. “my money was totally on mark.”

“shut up! you’ll give it away!” haechan hisses.

the pair turn to each other and present their fists. after three slaps to their hands, ninging lets out a ‘ha!’ when her two fingers snip at haechan’s open palm.

without missing a beat, haechan reaches into the middle of the circle, snatching one of the pre-prepared shots sitting in a slot in a little yellow floaty.

“you loser!” ningning yells. “was it not you who said you’re a pussy if you chicken out when i took a shot?”

“cry about it.” haechan throws the shot back down his throat and tosses the little plastic cup behind him to clatter on the wet tile. suddenly ningning grabs haechan by his shoulders and in one swift motion his head is completely underwater. his arm holds his fruity blue cocktail high in the air so as to not spill it, but it still sloshes around as he flails, frantic bubbles rising up to the surface. jisung reaches forward and grabs the floaty to pull it away from the chaos and keep the shots from dancing across the water.

haechan resurfaces when ningning lets him go, coughing dramatically and wiping the water away from his eyes. “my drink! my drink!” he sputters.

you giggle at the antics of your drunken friends, but its difficult to give them your full attention when jaemin is pressed against your left side. his right hand glides across your thigh under the hot water, dangerously close to the bottom of your white bikini.

he’s paying no mind to the game. his nose is pressed against your neck, his breath feeling cold against your skin in comparison to the hot air around you. you swat at his hand when his thumb brushes against the fabric between your thighs; jaemin has never been one to shy away from public affection, especially when he’s tipsy, so you’re the one tasked with keeping him under control. you find that it's hard to care that much though, considering that even before the game began you were already three shots deep. jaemin just chuckles, lifting his free hand to brush your wet hair from your shoulder and places a hot kiss behind your ear.

you turn to look over at him, your head tilting back and to the side so your lips brush lightly against his own as you move. it's snowing, the night sky completely clouded over, but the heat from the hot tub makes the puffy white flakes dissolve in the air before they can touch the water, and they fizzle away as you watch them land in his hair. jaemin catches his bottom lip between his teeth, a dazed and loving smile matching the way his glossy eyes look at you in the winter air. you lean forward just a bit to meet him in a kiss. he sighs happily, leaning in closer to deepen it.

the game has made its way down the circle and someone grabs your attention by telling jaemin that it’s his turn. he chases your lips when you pull away, your face flushed upon remembering you aren’t alone, all the while he seems unphased.

without looking away from you he hums in thought, watching as the condensation clinging to your skin rolls down your chest. he brings a hand up to cup your ear and whispers his question.

“who’s most likely to fuck you better than me?”

even in the steamy air, the blush that rises to your face is unmistakable. your eyes widen, making a devilish smile appear on his lips.

“ohhh look at her face!” karina says coyly. “must have been a spicy question!”

you’re too stunned to speak. you’d never been conscious of it, but apparently you knew the answer to this question before even being presented with it.

your eyes then flicker over to scan your group of friends; everyone’s eyes are on you and all of a sudden you feel like you’re a second from overheating.

“you’ve gotta answer, baby. its part of the game,” jaemin teases, snapping you out of your thoughts. the smirk playing his features is mischievous; his hand slyly finds its way between your legs again, and when his fingers slip under the band of your swimsuit and press roughly against you, you blurt out your answer without being able to stop yourself.

“jeno!”

its clear everyone was under the impression that the question presented to you was intimate, and a series of surprised and boisterous hoots and hollers erupt all around you. jeno laughs nervously from a few spots down the circle, rubbing a hand across the back of his neck. you swallow hard. it's too late now to wonder if you should have just kept your mouth shut.

jaemin pulls your attention back to him. your eyes are apprehensive when they meet his; he immediately takes notice of your change in demeanor, and he gives you a sweet, reassuring smile. when you smack your hands down in sync, he waits just a second to see your fist still clenched, and he slips two fingers out of his to let you win.

“that’s cheating!!” haechan whines from across the hot tub. “you saw her play!”

jaemin just presses a soft kiss to your wet cheek and drapes his arm around your shoulders. “cry about it.”

the next morning, you wake up to the sounds and smells of breakfast being made. through the dehydration and dull headache of your small hangover, what you’d said the night prior runs rampant in your head.

you feel a strange sense of guilt gnawing at you. jaemin acted no differently than normal following your confession, but you can't shake the feeling that you’d upset him. it was his best friend's name you’d said after all, so you aren’t quite sure why he hasn't at least brought it up again.

the dream you’d just awoken from involving said best friend didn't help settle your nerves either.

you shuffle out of the sheets and walk into the kitchen of the small condo you and your boyfriend are sharing for the weekend. you take a seat on one of the barstools surrounding the kitchen island, tapping your fingers on the marble countertop as you watch jaemin from behind him. he hums to himself, dropping ingredients into a sizzling pan.

“jaem?” you start. he spins around, and he grins at you.

“good morning, my love,” he greets you, crossing the space and leaning down to kiss you.

“are you mad at me?”

in retrospect, it's a stupid question; he hadn’t given any indication that he was upset with you at all, but your worried conscience outweighs your common sense.

jaemin’s smile falls, a look of confusion replacing it. “of course not, baby, why would i be?”

“because of last night,” you mutter, your shoulders slumped.

jaemin takes a seat on a stool across from you and pauses to think. “i don’t remember you doing anything last night to make me upset, babydoll.”

“i mean, like, what i said in the hot tub.”

he blinks at you. after a second, his face lights up in realization. “what, about jeno?”

you nod, lowering your head in shame. jaemin chuckles, placing a warm hand under your jaw to bring your eyes back up. his thumb brushes against your burning skin.

“baby, why would i be mad about that? i asked you the question in the first place.”

“because he's your best friend.”

“so? as his best friend, i know better than most that he’s attractive,” he jokes. you’re honestly confused as to why he's so casual about it.

“i um- i had a dream about him last night.”

when he lifts a brow and tilts his head, you reach up to tightly squeeze his hand that still lays on your face and scramble to clarify. “but it didn't mean anything jaem, i promise! please don’t be mad, please, i really would never do anything like that-“

“baby, shh, its okay,” he cups your face in his hands, squishing your cheeks together. heavy, anxious breathing fills your chest. “i love you and i trust you, i promise i’m not upset with you, sweetheart.”

a sigh falls, your worries dissolving into the warm air. jaemin presses a kiss to your forehead. an idea seems to pop into his head just then, and he smirks.

“besides, there's no one i'd rather share my girl with than my best friend anyway.”

heat rushes up your neck again. “share?”

“well yeah, if you’re comfortable with that. i’d love to help my pretty baby bring that dream to life for a night.”

there's snow piling on the sill just outside the bedroom window, but jeno’s forehead still glimmers with a light sheen of sweat in the soft glow of the bedside lamp.

as you and the girls were on the slopes earlier in the day, jaemin pulled jeno aside to talk to him once he knew you were on board with his idea. jaemin had always known jeno thought you were pretty, it was in the way he looked at you and spoke a little softer to you than most. but it didn't bother jaemin; after all, who could really blame him? jaemin had fallen in love with you for a reason.

needless to say though, jaemin’s proposal left jeno completely shocked. he really tried to hide his crush on you so as to not upset anyone; losing his best friend over it wasn't worth the risk and he saw how in love you were, he would feel like a monster if he did anything to ruin that. so learning about your little crush on him made his heart flutter in his chest.

he would have to be an insane man to decline this offer.

so now, you kneel in front of him on yours and jaemin’s bed, your bare knees digging into the plush of the mattress. you’d just showered after your long day of skiing, and the lingering scent of vanilla has jeno reeling already.

“are you nervous?” you ask him. your shorts are riding up, disappearing behind the hem of your thin white tshirt. your hair is still damp, and the wetness seeps through the fabric, making the top of your chest slightly more visible.

jeno gives a hesitant nod, a quiet laugh slipping through his shy smile.

“me too,” you admit, matching his timid demeanor.

jaemin catches your eye from his spot by the window, the ice clinking in his frosted glass as he stands between the sheer curtains.

“she's a good girl, jen. she’ll do what you tell her, right baby?”

you turn back towards jeno and give him an innocent nod. jeno feels embarrassed by how hard he already is just from your sweet doe eyes and the way you puff your lips up in a little pout. you lean forward on your knees, your fingers gripping the sheets. your elbows push your chest forward and jeno has to remind himself he doesn't have to force his gaze away this time.

“tell me what you want, nono,” you coo. jeno swallows hard.

“show me what happened in your dream.”

you obey immediately, crawling forward and situating yourself on his lap. your fingers trace ever so delicately up his abdomen and chest; you can feel how his muscles are tense under his shirt, but when you dip down to press warm, feathery kisses to the side of his neck, the strain fades away almost instantly. you grip his shoulders and rock yourself against him. his fingers dig into your hips and he shudders at the soft, slow friction.

jaemin watches you intently, leaning his weight on his arm against the perch of the window, and he lifts his glass to take a sip. this brand new view of you absolutely captivates him; you look so.. so pretty it makes him twitch in his sweat pants.

with your lips still attached to jeno’s neck your hands find their way down his waistband. you tug at the elastic of his basketball shorts, reaching in to palm him over his boxers, eliciting a low groan that vibrates against your lips. his head falls back and his eyes flutter closed.

pulling away you scoot back enough to pull the fabric away from his waist, watching as his cock springs up and out of his shorts. you keep your gaze locked with his as you grab him by the base and drag your hand slowly up the shaft. jeno whimpers as you pump your fist up and down, squeezing every time your fingers reach the tip.

you lift yourself up and stand on your knees that sit on either side of jeno’s lap, your chest almost pressing against his face as you use his shoulders for balance. he has to suppress the moan that rises in this throat when you shove your shorts and panties off your legs and sink down onto him without warning.

your wet hair sways in front of your face as you bounce slowly up and down on him, adjusting to his length. you’re so warm and soft and you grip around him so well that jeno feels delirious; he might not be able to last long.

your lips suddenly mesh with his and he feels like he's on cloud nine. jeno’s tongue flicks into your mouth and he feels you dig your nails into the back of his neck, tugging at his hair. you whimper into his mouth as jeno kisses you like his life depends on it.

suddenly your hair is tangled in jaemin’s grip and your head is yanked back, your lips pulling away from jeno’s with a wet smack and a loud cry is ripped from your throat. your head falls back onto jaemin’s shoulder and an earth shattering whine echoes through the room. jeno feels embarrassed by the heavy groan he can't help but let out, until jaemin looks at him with a knowing smirk.

“you like that, jen? she’s very vocal.” jaemin’s free hand reaches up to squeeze the base of your neck. “isn’t that right, baby girl? you make such pretty noises when you feel good, yeah?” you nod, reaching a shaky arm up and behind you to scratch at jaemin’s shoulder. you let out a trembling whimper.

“you wanna show jen how good i can make you feel, huh?”

your swollen lips press together; a strangled ‘mhm’ is all you can manage.

jaemin then pulls your hips towards him, a sticky wet sound making you blush as jeno slips out of your folds. the empty feeling doesn't linger for long, however. jaemin replaces him immediately, slamming his hips up into you and hitting the spot that makes you crumble every time.

your face looks so beautiful to jeno in this moment, scrunched up in pleasure. jaemin’s hand still grips your hair to tilt your head back as he rams into you, his face buried in your neck leaving messy purple bruises across your skin.

jeno thinks he might just cum untouched from the sight.

one of your hands reaches out to grip jeno’s cock again in an attempt to aid him in just that, but jaemin is fucking into you so mercilessly that you can’t manage to keep up a steady pace. so jeno grips your hand in his, guiding your arm up and down. tears begin to spill through your lashes and you see stars behind your closed eyes. jeno kisses up your jaw on the side opposite jaemin, making his way up to lock his lips with your own once again.

“ah, a-ahh hah.” you begin to babble and whine and your kiss becomes sloppy. jeno knows you’re close. he begins to pump faster to reach the height you’re at, and as you clench around jaemin’s cock and scream out through your orgasm your head falls forward to rest on jeno’s shoulder. with a humiliatingly loud moan jeno cums with you, sticky thick ropes shooting out and painting your thighs a milky white.

jaemin rides you through your orgasm, and when you start to whine from overstimulation, he pulls out and let’s you fall back on his chest. your vision is blurry, your breath is labored. in jaemin’s warm arms you decide that staying completely conscious would be entirely too difficult, so you allow yourself to drift off.

later that night, you lay in bed between both jaemin and jeno, your exhausted body having been cleaned up and taken care of by the pair of boys. jeno is out cold behind you, snuggled up into your back and snoring softly.

jaemin is settled in front of you. your arms wrap around his neck as you kiss him, pressed up against his bare chest. his fingers trace along your side as he hums on your lips, moving slowly and tenderly along with you.

he grabs your chin softly in his fingers, pulling away from the kiss gently. you smile dreamily as his thumb brushes your bottom lip.

“did your dream come true, baby?” he asks, his voice breathy.

you sigh. “it was even better.”

“better?”

“of course, you were there.”

its rare that you fluster jaemin, but his eyes light up at your words and you swear you see him blush in the dim light. he grins at you, leaning down to connect your lips again.

“wait,” you say suddenly, stopping him. though its only been a short while your memory is foggy, and you realize you don't remember jaemin reaching his own high. “jaem, did you not-“

somehow, jaemin reads your mind. “don't worry about that, baby girl. i wanted you to feel good tonight.”

“noo jaem that’s not fair to you,” you whine, beginning to slide your hand down, but he catches it.

“we’ll wake jeno up if you do that, baby,” he whispers. you glace over your shoulder, noticing how jeno is basically spooning you, his face buried in the fabric of your sweatshirt between your shoulders and his arms circling your waist.

you smirk, turning back around.

“why not let him help, then?”

#srb #i feel like the pacing of this could have been a little better but i still like this one a lot #na jaemin #na jaemin smut

339 notes · View notes

raspberriesoda · 2 days

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fall from grace �� ljn

genre | angel!jeno x human!reader; fluff, slight angst at the very end

word count | 2.3k

summary | your guardian angel has always blurred the line he’s never supposed to cross, and one night he unintentionally takes that leap into territory he’s not meant to be in

a.n | this will most likely have a part two! (pt2 will be much more angsty, and possibly smutty i haven’t decided yet) also if you see something extremely similar to this on ao3 no you don’t (i wrote this as a nomin fic a few years ago and posted it there but dreamscape angel propaganda made me want to revamp it and post it again)

he hadn’t expected to end up here. or, at least that’s what he tried to convince himself. he really wasn’t supposed to be here. none of this was ever supposed to happen.

but, how could he not fall in love with you?

the way that you snort when you laugh a little too hard at something you know isn’t really that funny. the pout that cutely displays on your lips when you give something your full focus. the little noises you make in your sleep when you’re dreaming. the way that you almost always trip on the crack in the sidewalk right outside your apartment building, despite living there long enough to be mindful of it.

jeno thinks about it more and more day by day; not that he even pays mind to the passage of time anymore. there was no way out, he was doomed from the start.

but, instead of the lighthearted feeling that would normally come hand in hand with love, jeno feels a weight. in any other circumstance he’d likely be considered a stalker by the way he knows every little thing about you, but that’s his obligation. jeno’s sole task is to watch over you, to keep you safe, to make you his number one priority above all else.

you aren’t supposed to know. you’re supposed to be blissfully unaware of jeno’s existence and his presence in your life, as well as any others like him.

and jeno was never supposed to fall in love.

lately- and he couldn’t tell if it was on purpose- jeno had become admittedly sloppy with keeping a safe enough space between you and him. he knows it’s no excuse, and he knows the consequences of the risk he’s taking, but the pull is just too strong. his one responsibility is to protect you, but what was the point of that if he couldn’t make you comfortable and happy? if he couldn’t love you in the way only he knows you deserve to be? he’s just fulfilling his duties, right?

how unfair, he thinks. how unfair it is that he’s forced to be so close to you, yet just far enough away that you’ll never even know.

jeno stands on your balcony, three floors up, three hours past midnight.

there’s only a wall separating you from him, and though there is the perk that you can't exactly feel his presence like you might with another human, there stands the possibility of you finding him all the same. he’s more than aware of how dangerous this is for him, to have this little of a distance between you; a relationship between a human and their guardian is never allowed to be physical or emotional in any way. he asks himself how far he is from crossing that line, how close he is from falling off of that tight rope. realistically he already has, but he finds it difficult to care.

ironically, jeno wonders if he’s been cursed or blessed. maybe both, he thinks- blessed with the fact he’s always with the human he loves oh so deeply; cursed with the fact that though he knows just how to make you smile, that smile will never really be for him.

he’s willing, though- more than willing to take that chance, despite the better part of himself advising against it (or that had been the better part of him, long long ago). if he just gets to see your surprised, sleepy little smile early the next morning when you step out to check on your favorite flowers and notice they’ve bloomed way ahead of schedule, then to jeno, its worth it.

as jeno tends to the soft peach colored petals, you sit inside, your legs tucked under you on the kitchen counter, sipping peach flavored tea and watching old cartoons on your computer. you couldn’t sleep, and tossing and turning in bed was finally out of the question after a few too many hours of dreamless silence.

your bare feet make a soft thud on the kitchen tiles when you uncross your legs and leap from the counter, making your way to grab more honey for your tea. the sound makes jeno glance up from the petals sitting between his fingers. this signals to him that you’re now on the move and that he should go, but again, the voice in his head is muted when it comes to you.

jeno takes another bud in his hands and watches as it spreads open right before his eyes at his touch. he rearranges the flowers and stems and pats down the soil as if to make it look a bit more lively, and with this, he decides he should depart before you have the chance to notice he’s here. he turns, preparing to hop the banister, but he bumps the patio table, sending an unused pot of dry dirt falling to the ground. it shatters into large shards of clay that scatter across the wood, and jeno stills.

you almost drop the glass jar at the unexpected calamity, adrenaline shooting through your body like a shockwave. a heavy spoonful of honey is frozen in the air as you hold it above your mug; it drizzles down the side of the ceramic and makes a sticky puddle on your counter. a few moments of painfully eerie silence pass and you try your best to catch your breath.

jeno stoops down to clean the mess he’s made, making certain to be as silent and quick as possible before you arrive to investigate. after your mind has time to form a theory that doesn’t involve something you’d seen in a horror film, you come to the hopeful conclusion that it must have been the wind knocking around your gardening supplies. for your peace of mind, you round the counter to pull open the curtain draped glass doors.

what you see makes you think that maybe you had fallen asleep earlier after all.

jeno looks up, stunned, frigid, crouched down with his hands full of rocks and clay and dirt. he can only imagine how he appears to you in this moment; he must look like he’s just been caught committing a crime- and it likely would be in any other set of means.

millions of worries should be swarming his head, but the only thing on his mind right now is you. your tangled hair, your fluffy pajama pants, your eyes twinkling in the moonlight and looking at him with wonder- not toward him or past him, but directly at him. it was something he’d never had the pleasure of witnessing.

your urge to cry out is suppressed by the peculiar calm feeling that settles over you the moment your eyes lock with jeno’s. even in the shadows the strange boy’s eyes seem to shine, and any thought of ill intent is sent away as quickly as it came. your brain has no time to question the unusual level headedness you feel before you start to connect the dots.

weirdly, you recognize him, but your mind blanks when you try recalling from where. though, you really figured that you’d remember something like this if you’d seen it before. it takes jeno standing, letting the soft starlight paint his nervous face and his shimmering wings for you to be able to connect him to any sort of a tangible memory.

you’d never actually known his name, or from where he came, but you did know of him.

the boy you’d spotted leaving the cafe after the barista had told you that your coffee was already paid for on the morning you were running late for your psychology lecture. the boy you’d seen scanning shelves in the campus library when you saw your favorite novel sat next to your course work upon returning from the counter to ask if they had it in yet. the boy you’d seen walking down the pavement when you’d whipped your tipsy head around after being yanked back by your hoodie just before you stepped into the street, a blaring car horn and a rush of wind whisking your hair up as all you could do was stare at his figure as he strolled away from you.

other instances that you’d had no concrete explanations for began to surface in your mind the longer you studied him. the closed window and extra blanket the night you’d accidentally fallen asleep before a severe thunderstorm. the carton of fresh milk in your fridge you could’ve sworn you’d forgotten to pick up from the market. your favorite white sweater miraculously being completely unharmed after a pink sock snuck its way into the wash.

you knew all of these occurrences and the same boy being present could be purely coincidental, but something about that was just too hard to believe. you always meant to approach him when you saw him in your day to day life, but the courage to make the move and close the distance between you never arose.

‘what an angel,’ you’d always said to yourself when you’d see him. you never would’ve guessed you were right.

when jeno finally snaps out of his trance, remembering the predicament he’s gotten himself into, he turns to really leave before he lands himself in any more trouble. he spreads his huge white wings, the ones that had always been hidden when you were near, and flaps them once to lift himself into the air. a gust of chilled wind flutters your pajamas and pulls the breath from your lungs as you gawk at him.

you try to speak, to tell him not to go, but your voice won’t come out. before jeno can get too far, and before you can think of something less hazardous, you run forward and hoist yourself up on the railing to grab jeno’s ankle in an attempt to stop him from fleeing. at that same moment jeno flaps his wings again, not thinking that the sudden weight on his leg could be you, and as a result you’re pulled from the rail and out into the open, three stories above solid ground.

a strangled yelp jumps from your throat as you dangle in peril. jeno’s head snaps down, and his eyes widen as they meet your figure, clinging to him and flailing wildly. your grip rapidly begins to slip from jeno’s body. your mind races around the realization that this could very well be the end; in an instant you feel the cold night wind rushing up around you, whisking your hair towards the sky, blurring the buildings and skyline together and your breath is caught in your lungs as all you can do is fall.

just as soon as it happened, you collapse into jeno’s open arms with an ‘oomph’ when he catches you before you can meet any harm. you immediately wrap your entire body around him and squeeze your eyes shut, letting out a trembling and fearful cry into his neck. hot tears threaten to spill down your cheeks and the height makes you lightheaded. you’re shivering as jeno lifts you both up to the balcony once again.

it’s bittersweet for jeno to see you this close. you’re so stunningly beautiful, more so than jeno could have ever imagined. your eyes finally open to meet jeno’s when you feel yourself safely sitting on your balcony, curled up under jeno’s kneeling figure. they glisten with tears and your soft face appears to glow in the moonlight. jeno’s heart grows wings of its own to soar through his chest; he may be the angel, but you are angelic.

a very nervous laugh bubbles out of you, your face blooming with a deep red at the sudden realization of your very close proximity to one another, and the embarrassment of the stunt you’d just pulled. one of your arms still drapes around the back of jeno’s neck, the other hand pressed to his chest, revealing jeno’s rapid heartbeat that matches that of yours. jeno’s arms are still wrapped around your waist. he never wants to let go.

“i-mh,” you stutter a bit, and gulp. “i’m sorry,” a sheepish smile pulls at your lips. your voice is much breathier than you’d wanted it to come out.

jeno’s features are sharp, but his expression is soft. tufts of his silvery white hair flit around in the crisp breeze and he looks at you, admires you, his gentle eyes flickering across your face like he’s committing you to memory. his fingers comb gingerly through your windswept hair, pushing it away from your flushed neck and tucking it behind your ear.

his eyes suddenly shift down when your hand meets his jaw, the tips of your fingers ghosting over his cheek. his skin tingles under your timid touch.

you’ve never seen anything like him.

“you’re.. so pretty.”

“thank you,” jeno breathes out through a dazed smile. as you relax a bit, jeno feels your fingers brush delicately against the indents you had made on his shoulders; your grip is softer now, but no less fervent.

“i’m jeno,” he tells you. your eyes meet his again. his heart skips a beat when you cup his face fully, your thumb smoothing over the expanse of his cheek; its warm under your touch.

“thank you, jeno.”

a short beat of time passes, and in a sudden surge of bravery, you lean forward to connect your lips in a kiss. jeno’s heart stops then, his feathers standing and his eyes wide, utterly overwhelmed with the cordial feeling of the one he loves so suddenly embracing him.

jeno decides to throw all caution to the wind. he wastes no time in sliding his hands up your neck to cradle both sides of your jaw, turning his head to let the kiss deepen. his eyes flutter closed and his wings relax, and the sigh he lets out sends hot air onto the peaks of your blushing face, making you melt into his hold. you can’t tell if the warmth that spreads through your body as your lips move in perfect sync is from jeno’s celestial form, but you’ve never felt such a rush from just a single kiss.

but it’s not otherworldly, because jeno feels it, too.

all of a sudden jeno feels the crushing sense of his time running short. he reluctantly pulls away from the kiss; you chase his lips as he leans back.

“i’m sorry, i’m not supposed to be here.”

your fingers grip his shoulders again. a wave of sadness crashes over him when he sees the somber look in your eyes.

“don’t go,” you whimper. jeno’s heart throbs. he would consider it a moment of weakness, only that's all he ever felt when it came to you. he kisses you once more, quick this time, and he feels himself ready to break.

“i’ll come back. i promise.”

with that, he’s gone.

you didn’t end up sleeping that night.

the tea in the mug that hangs loosely in your grip has gone cold by now. you sit in the same spot on your balcony, staring longingly up at the star speckled night sky.

#srb #lee jeno #lee jeno fluff #lee jeno angst

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