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raspberriesoda · 17 hours

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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 · 1 day

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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 · 1 day

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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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raspberriesoda · 1 day

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serious case of pretty face omfg ©️

#im WEEPING #why is he so adorable does he not care about my wellbeing #ldh

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raspberriesoda · 1 day

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sorry im so cute and stupid!! what are you going to do? fuck me about it?

#me @ jaemin

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raspberriesoda · 1 day

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240426 JAEMIN Weibo Update

"Selfi🤳"

#i feel myself slipping into insanity #njm

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raspberriesoda · 1 day

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240426 JAEMIN Weibo Update

"Selfi 🤳🏻"

#youre ! kidding ! me !#njm

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raspberriesoda · 1 day

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240426 RENJUN IG Update

"This is me"

#i adore him. ADORE HIM #hrj

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raspberriesoda · 1 day

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#im so in love with him please #hrj

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raspberriesoda · 2 days

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rewatching the last of us this show is so fucking good 😭

#i always think to myself hmm. au??#and then i never do it 💀#judah.txt

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raspberriesoda · 2 days

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JISUNG // MMA 2023 BEHIND

#beautiful beautiful booooy #pjs

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raspberriesoda · 3 days

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did anyone see renjuns ig update and just want to start crying ☹️

#my poor baby :((#i hope he knows that we love him so so so much #judah.txt

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raspberriesoda · 3 days

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i’m in a SLUMP 😭

#please i just want to write i had writers block for so many years #why are none of my wips calling to me 😭#judah.txt

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raspberriesoda · 3 days

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indica dreams | ldh

plug!hyuck x fem!reader ft. bestie jeno and cousin johnny

summary: when you finally decide to do something about your sleeping problem, your best friend suggests weed as a solution. he introduces you to donghyuck — a plug who makes it his personal mission to teach you everything there is to know about it.

wc: 11.7k 18+ mdni

cw: fluff, mild angst, smut, weed/marijuana use in multiple forms, unprotected penetrative sex (wrap it up!), creampie, oral (receiving), flirty down bad soft dom!hyuck who's highkey a simp, dirty talk + voice/praise kink, reader has sleep problems and is a chronic overthinker, reader has a bad trip on weed, tender loving and reassurance, baby/sunshine/my girl as petnames

you turn over in your bed for what feels like the hundredth time, eyes shut tight as you groan in frustration. you open your eyes and feel around for your phone, blinding yourself once the screen faces you. 4:23 a.m. great.

when your alarm set for work blares just a few hours later, you feel as though you shut your eyes for only a few minutes, reluctantly getting up to start your day.

this has been happening for a while now — maybe 1 or 2 months? you’re not sure when exactly it started, but you know the stress from work has been affecting your sleep schedule terribly.

you’ve tried melatonin — huge headache the morning after. other methods you tried led to something similar or didn’t work at all, and it frustrates you to no end. after another day of fighting to stay awake at work passes by painfully slow, you sit on your bed brainstorming with your best friend over the phone.

“i think we’ve gotta do something about the stress, then maybe the sleep will come with it?” jeno’s voice rings through the speaker. you can tell he’s just waking up, evident in his low voice and delayed responses.

“like what? quit my job?” you ask sarcastically. “you know i can’t do that.”

“i know, not that.” you can almost hear him shrug. jeno never has any problems sleeping, being able to sleep through the night and even take a nap or two throughout the day with his work from home job.

a lightbulb seems to flash in his head as he lets out a small gasp. “wait,” his voice sounds closer to the phone speaker, and a few seconds later, your phone buzzes with a new message.

6:06pm jenjen: dongfuck 010-xxxx-xxxx

“dongfuck?? who the hell is that?” you ask, confused and almost slightly irritated.

“oh shit, i forgot it sends the contact name and everything,” jeno laughs. “anyways, i think the answer to your problems is some good old weed.”

you pause. it’s not as if that never crossed your mind, in fact it has even before your sleep problem came about.

you never entertained the interest as no one in your friend circle knew enough about weed for you to feel comfortable trying it for the first time and you haven’t had the energy to go out as much, giving you no chance to meet someone who does.

“i could be down? but what do you know about weed, lee jeno?” you ask your friend suspiciously.

“no, not me,” you hear him tap on the phone for emphasis. “that’s where my buddy dongfuck comes in.”

you don’t know why, but your gut feeling tells you that you might be in for more than just a good night’s sleep.

lee donghyuck

the new contact in your phone apparently belonged to the resident stoner of his friend group who hustles as a local plug, and while jeno had his thoughts about the guy, quoting pain in the ass and corny flirt, he couldn’t deny that he knows more about weed than anyone he’s ever met. and as much as jeno talks shit, you know how he’d be if he actually hated the guy.

you had texted the new number nervously, asking if he could give you the basics on getting high, and he had responded with “it’s too much to text” and an address. jeno trusted the guy, so you did your best to brush aside your nerves.

it’s your saturday off when you arrive at the address he sent, triple checking that you are at the right place. your gps leads you to a building that looks like a 2-story house. it’s so lowkey that you probably would have walked right past it if you weren’t looking for it, but upon closer inspection it has a very minimal but aesthetic exterior, with vines running alongside the house’s entrance.

“NCTeaHouse” a sign reads right above the door, and you peek inside the small window in the door to see the interior. your mouth forms an o as you realize the house is in fact a store.

the front door opens suddenly, almost hitting you in the face as you step back in surprise. a dark haired man with rounded glasses peeks his head out from behind the door.

“oops, my bad. __ right?” he asks, a little unsure.

“yeah, and you’re donghyuck?” you ask, taking in the man who looks to be around the same age as you.

“just hyuck is okay, come on in!” he says cheerfully, opening the door fully. “i was wondering when you were gonna come in, saw you wandering around the entrance for a good 5 minutes,” he chuckles.

your face gets hot at the knowledge that he saw you like that. “i was making sure it was the right place, okay?”

he hums and leads you in, and you take in the view of the shop around you. it’s tiny, but warmly decorated, browns and earth tones dominating the space with boxes lined along the shelves and few displays in the middle of the shop. he goes behind the front counter, bent down as he rummages through a box.

you take a look at products at the register, finding that they are different tea bags. glancing back at the displays, you recognize the other boxes to also be different tea brands, and some other products you don’t recognize.

“is this where you sell?” you ask, seeing that he’s still looking for something.

“oh no, not here, this is my side job. we sell tea, coffee, and some other stuff.” he gets up with a smaller box in hand, leaving the register as he beckons you to a back room. “but it’s my cousin’s shop, i just help here when i can.”

the back room is also warmly decorated, simple with 2 couch chairs, a table with a coffee maker, and a tiny fridge with a small burner on top.

“you can sit in one of those chairs, do you want some tea?” he asks. you decline politely and sit as he places a kettle on the small burner, turning it on before sitting on the other chair.

“aren’t you working right now? i don’t want to take up too much of your time,” you ask worriedly, not expecting the address he sent to be his workplace. he shakes his head.

“nah, trust me, we barely get any customers, and if they do they’ll ring the bell out front,” he says, waving his hand. “anyways, jen told me you wanted to learn about weed? what do you want to know?”

you feel your face get hot again. you know quite literally nothing about weed, and to admit that to a friend of a friend is a little embarrassing. but again, if jeno trusts him, so do you.

“to be completely honest.. i know nothing about it. i just know i have trouble sleeping at night and jeno suggested it might help,” you tell him.

“so just for sleep?” he asks.

“well, yes.. and no,” you start. you finally have the opportunity to learn the ropes from someone who actually knows what they were doing, but would he be down knowing you were starting from ground zero? he peers at you, noting that your expression looks a little conflicted.

“hey, no need to feel shy about it. everyone has to start somewhere,” he assures.

his words have more of an effect on you than you would expect, feeling touched at the reassurance of someone you barely know. it’s crazy how one sentence can have you feeling like you can trust him with whatever, but you nod in response.

“i think.. i’d like to learn at least the basics about weed, or even more if you’re willing? i’ve always been interested but never had the chance to explore it, but something tells me that’s what you’re all about,” you let your inner thoughts spill. he noticeably lights up at your words.

“and you’re absolutely right! trust me, as long as you’re willing to learn, i’m more than willing to teach,” he chimes, excited for someone who could potentially be as into weed as he is.

like you, none of his close friends really indulge in the substance, and it’s not like he can smoke on the regular with his customers, so he feels genuine excitement at the prospect of a weed buddy.

the sight of his lit up face at your curiosity really reassures your decision to trust jeno’s recommendation. as if on cue, his kettle starts whistling and he gets up to turn off the burner.

you watch as he pours the water into a mug he had set to the side. your eyes trail over his outfit: a comfortable looking brown hoodie paired with some ripped jeans that hug his long legs just right.

your eyes move back up to his face, only to see him staring back at you with an eyebrow raised.

“like what you see?” he asks with a teasing grin. you groan to hide your embarrassment, now seeing what jeno meant when he called him a corny flirt. but you really were checking him out, so you quickly try to come up with an excuse.

“i’m just thinking you don’t really look like you’d be a plug,” you redirect. he shakes his head.

“and what do you think a plug should look like?” he asks, face the tiniest bit more serious. the question surprises you.

“i guess, a little scarier?” you say quietly. you do imagine a plug being that way — quiet, intimidating, maybe a few tattoos. definitely not the man in front of you with his big brown eyes behind a pair of silver framed glasses, fluffy hair and even fluffier hoodie. he laughs at your answer.

“and that is where you are wrong,” he tuts at you, waving a finger. “stoners come in all shapes and sizes, and this plug of yours just happens to be incredibly charming and handsome.” he wiggles his eyebrows at you, and you can’t hold back your laughter.

aside from the last part, his words ring true, and you feel a little silly at your preconceived notion. one of the main things that has stuck out from him so far is his lack of judgement, and it’s something you admire. maybe this really is a good thing for you.

“anyways, when are we gonna start these lessons?” you ask, returning to your original goal.

“we can start now if you’ve got time,” he smiles, taking a sip of his tea. you check your phone, noting that not too long has passed since you arrived. you don’t have any plans besides trying to catch up on sleep, but you know that will probably be futile. why not?

“i’ve got time,” you let him know, and he meets you with a bright smile. he gets you some water, telling you to get comfy for his “weed 101” course.

“so let’s start with sativa vs. indica.” he types something in his phone, pulling up a slideshow. “all weed will fall into one of these two, or a combination of some sort.”

“you didn’t have to make an entire presentation??” you gasp. he must really be that eager to teach you.

“just let it happen, trust the process,” he insists. “anyways, you’ve got that sleeping problem, so anything indica would be your best friend,” he explains, showing you different examples on his phone.

“and what about sativa?” you ask, and he grins.

“that, my friend, is what you smoke when you want to have fun.”

you quickly realize that there is so much more to weed than you initially thought.

he jumps from topic to topic on different strains, smoking vs. edibles, joints vs. blunts, pipes vs. bongs — it was a lot. your head spins as you try to recall all the information he’s given you, and he takes notice at the shift in your demeanor, even if you try to feign the same eagerness you had coming into it.

“is it too much? we can take it slower, break it into sessions maybe,” he offers. you’re really wowed at how down he actually is to do this, and if you’re being completely honest, hanging out with an attractive guy while learning about and potentially indulging in some weed plus hopefully getting a good night’s sleep out of it? it sounds too good to be true.

“won’t that be taking too much of your time?” you ask worriedly.

“i’m true to my word, as long as you’re willing to learn, sunshine, i’m all yours,” he says, mouth pulled into his same grin as he downs the last bit of his tea, probably cold now after hours of talking. “plus the next few times you come, i’ll bring my stuff so you can try it out.”

you know you aren’t immune to his charms, and your face warms at the affectionate words. despite the corniness jeno complained about, hyuck had a way of keeping you on your toes while giving you an odd feeling of ease.

“i think i’d like that a lot, thank you hyuck,” you beam. an alarm on his phone rings, and his eyes widen.

“it’s already time to close? time flies,” he says getting up from the seat to start closing up shop. you get up too, ready to head home. “wait,” his voice halts you.

“are you hungry?” he asks a little timidly, a stark contrast for how casual he’s been this entire time.

you’ve been there for a while, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t starving at that point. “yeah definitely, my last meal was breakfast,” you recall.

“okay sit tight, then. dinner’s on me, let me close up really quick,” he smiles, and before you can protest, he’s rushing through the break room door. a smile rests on your own face. you pull out your phone to check the time, seeing messages from jeno.

4:29pm jenjen: u ok? he didn’t eat you did he

5:50pm jenjen: dude wait are u ok neither of you are responding to me 5:50pm jenjen: don’t replace me ):

7:15pm you: stop you big baby we were just having a good conversation 7:16pm you: ngl i’m glad you introduced us, i have a good feeling about this jen (:

even after you insist you pay for your own and treat him as thanks for his lessons, hyuck stubbornly refuses and pays for the entire dinner bill. as he pulls up to your apartment to drop you off at home, he places a box in your lap before you exit his car.

“tea?” you ask, eyeing the box. reaching over to your lap again he taps on the box, punctuating his words.

“this right here is something i mixed up a while ago. i’m not the biggest edible person, so when i don’t feel like smoking, i’ll drink some of this. there’s barely any weed in it, but steep it for like a minute and try some an hour or two before you sleep.”

he looks incredibly proud of his own creation, but you’re a bit conflicted. it’s difficult to meet his energy when you’re nervous at the thought of trying weed for the first time on your own.

you don’t voice your nerves, not wanting to dampen his excitement. he’s already given you a lot and you just met the guy.

“thank you hyuck, i appreciate it.” you open his car door, getting down with the box in hand. “see you next week?”

“no problem at all, try that and let me know how it goes okay? i’m kinda not the biggest texter, so call for anything,” he says softly. “i’ll see you next week, sunshine.”

with the nickname sending a buzz through you, you close his car door, padding up to the front of your apartment complex before turning to wave. he waves back, flashing his headlights, and he doesn’t leave until you’re completely inside.

you go into your kitchen, placing the box on your counter. you open it, pulling out a paper accompanied by little tied sachets containing an assortment of dried leaves.

steep for two minutes with boiling water, can steep longer if you want a stronger tea.

-h

you smile to yourself. lifting a sachet to your nose, you note that it smells like a regular bag of tea. he did say there was barely any weed in there, so maybe it wouldn’t hurt to try?

you double back on that thought. you really don’t know how you’re gonna react to it, and the anxieties crawl back up your throat. what if it doesn’t turn out well, and you’re all by yourself with no way of getting the substance out of you?

you don’t want to risk it. you put the contents back in the box and place it in one of your cabinets. maybe you’ll invite jeno over to try it with you so at least you’d have someone with you if it all goes wrong.

you get ready for bed, hoping that the night brings you even a little sleep.

your hopes are unfounded when you wake up to a call from your manager, begging you to come into work to help fix an urgent problem. she promises you double pay and breakfast, and reluctantly, you accept.

you head to work with only the idea of some extra money in your pocket keeping you going, but you know already the second you step foot into your work building that you will be fighting for your life for the next few hours.

by the time the sun has set, you’re dragging yourself through your apartment door, wanting nothing more than to sleep for the next 24 hours. you change out of your work clothes, hopping straight into bed and closing your eyes in hopes that sleep will take you.

when your eyes open an hour later, frustration bubbling at your throat from an hour of tossing and turning despite your utter exhaustion, you rip your sheets off, heading to your kitchen.

you open a cabinet, taking out a familiar little box. you’re willing to give this a try — anything to get some good sleep. but anxieties still run through you as you take out your phone to text your best friend.

8:35pm you: jen wyd?

you wait for a few minutes staring tiredly at your phone until a message pops up.

8:41pm jenjen: out with jaem what’s up?

you sigh, letting your friend know to forget it, and open the box. there sits a familiar note, and you trace over the neat handwritng.

call for anything. hyuck’s words ring in your ears. before you know it, you’re moving on autopilot and repeated ringing sounds through your speaker, his name displayed on the screen.

rrrring. rrrring. with every ring you feel more anxious, debating on just hanging up and resorting to melatonin, and when it reaches his voicemail, your heart sinks.

you end the call, placing your phone in your pocket and deciding to look for your forgotten sleep supplements. you don’t even take more than a couple of steps when your phone starts buzzing. you answer without even checking the id.

“__? what’s up?” his voice rings through the speakers and relief floods your system.

“hyuck, sorry to bother, but are you busy right now?” you ask.

“free for you, and not a bother, don’t apologize,” he says, and you can hear the smile on his voice. your cheeks twitch into a slight smile at his sweet words, but the tiredness seeps into your words.

“i’m gonna try your tea.. i’m so exhausted and i can’t sleep but i’m just so nervous about trying this by myself — oh and i called jeno but he’s busy — i’m sorry i ju-” your sleepy spiel is interrupted by his voice.

“woah, woah, sunshine, let’s slow it down a bit. no need to apologize for anything, really,” he assures.

you feel as though you could cry from the combination of relief and sheer exhaustion, now a little calmer explaining your circumstances and nerves at your first time having any sort of weed.

“hey, go ahead and try it, and i’ll stay on the phone until you fall asleep, okay? you can tell me if you’re feeling bad or weird or anything and i’ll be right here.”

“promise?” you ask hopefully. it’s not ideal to be asking someone you’ve known for literally a day to stay on the phone with you, but your tired mind and body scream sleep over shame.

he laughs. “you’re so cute, yes i promise.” you try not to show how much of an effect his words have on you, masking your stirring feelings by warming some water.

in the next 20 minutes, you’re sitting in bed with a cup of hot tea, taking small sips and letting the aroma waft as you chat over the phone. he’s right, the tea tastes nothing like the pungent scent of weed you are familiar with. his tea is calming and herbal.

“tell me about your day,” he requests, and you start from the call from your manager in the morning, explaining how some intern almost cost your company a client under your project, and you had to save their ass.

“you’re too good for them,” he says smugly.

“you’re just saying that, but thank you,” you reply, and he denies it, whining slightly.

“i would never say anything i don’t mean,” he asserts. he acts offended that you would even insinuate he was only flattering you, and you try not to read too much into his words, now halfway through your cup of tea.

“how about you tell me about your day, hyuck?” you ask, changing the subject.

he’s happy to talk about his day, lamenting spending his entire weekend at the shop, but explains how there were a group of unique customers today.

“this guy came in with a few friends, asking us if we have anything that could calm animals?? i honestly don’t know shit about pets but i don’t think tea and coffee are safe.” you chuckle at his animated telling of the story. “he had reeaaally nice eyebrows, though.”

your cup now sits empty on your nightstand, your head resting heavily on your pillow as you listen to him. he’s so expressive, and you hum in response to his ramblings. you have no thoughts besides how pleasing his voice is to your ears.

your eyes feel heavier and heavier as his voice sounds more and more distant.

when you wake up to your alarm set for work chiming the next morning, you feel the most rested you have in months. checking your phone, you see a missed message notification.

10:48pm hyuck =) : sleep tight, sunshine

a while has passed since your first go at the tea, and it’s three weeks until you are able to see hyuck again. at the beginning of those three weeks, you found that every couple of days hyuck would call, checking in on you. the first few calls never lasted as long as your first did, but soon you found yourself wanting to hear more of his voice.

you started to ask him how his day was before he could hang up, and after a few times of sharing back and forth, nightly calls to talk about your days became a routine.

in all honesty, you wanted to see him sooner, but the work days kicked your ass and different friends made plans on your days off. despite the chaos in other parts of your life, it felt like your nightly calls were what got you through the tiring days.

you were almost out of tea, and resorted to having the tea every other day to save. something must have shifted when you met hyuck, as even without the tea, sleep came much easier with the exception of a few days.

when you call hyuck on a friday night after work, hoping to restock and spend some time with him over the weekend, he meets your request with enthusiasm.

“didn’t realize you missed my lessons so much, my #1 student,” his teasing rings over the speakers.

“actually, youtube is sounding really good right about now,” you reply, putting up a flat tone at his remarks.

“i’m kiddinggggg jeez, come to the shop around 6 tomorrow? dress warm, we’ll try something new,” he instructs, and you agree.

sitting in your living room, you take a sip of the usual tea, noting that you’re down to your last bag. you drift off to sleep that night, and instead of the anxieties you had felt the night before the first time you met him, excitement floods your system at the thought of seeing him.

the next day’s lesson brings you to a new location, still NCTeaHouse, but the cozy back patio behind the store. strung up hanging lights are already lit, given how the sun has started to set, and the lounge couch makes it look like an ideal hangout spot.

“if you see me napping back here one of these days, you better not say anything,” you joke with hyuck.

“you’re always free to, as long as i’m invited,” he winks and you’re shaking your head at his unabashed self. you’ve gotten a lot more used to his flirty words, coming to expect at least a line or two during your nightly conversations.

“anyways, you’re probably wondering why we came out here tonight.” you nod, and he lays the contents of his pockets on the small table in front of the two of you.

“i thought we could try smoking today, if you’re comfortable,” he grins, arranging everything on the table, and you’re impressed by the assortment.

he’s got different bags of weed, wrapping papers, lighters, and little tins. he gets right into explaining, pulling out the contents of the tins. he holds up two rolls, one a little thicker than the other.

“this right here is a joint, it’s just weed. this thicker one is a blunt. it’s got nicotine in the paper so the high is a little different.” he hands them to you to look at and continues. “i prefer blunts, but depending on what you put in them, a regular joint would probably be better for someone who hasn’t smoked before.”

you never doubted jeno’s words, but hyuck really is living up to your friend’s praise of his weed knowledge. you nod in understanding at his clear explanations, handing them both back to him. he sets aside the joint and starts to put away the blunt until you stop him.

“let’s do the blunt,” you quickly interject. despite wanting to go with the more beginner-friendly option, something in you wanted to do what he liked. maybe that way you could get a little taste of his world.

“wait, are you sure? it might be a bit harsh,” he warns.

“trust me, i can take it,” you say stubbornly. he pauses almost unnoticeably with an unreadable expression at your words before it shifts into a dubious look.

“if you say soooo,” he teases. you slap his arm lightly, huffing as he laughs before getting up to grab some water before you begin. he settles back into the couch once he’s back. he picks out a blunt and his lighter, turning to you with a more serious expression.

“this high will probably feel a bit more intense than anything the tea could do, so just take it easy okay? if you start feeling bad, please tell me,” he emphasizes. “promise?” he holds out his pinky.

you nod, linking your own pinky around his. he tightens the hold and you feel your heart tighten a bit in turn. the emotions whirling in you are too complex to decipher, ranging from slight anxiety at the thought of actually being high to gratitude for hyuck’s reassurance.

“just watch, okay?” he places the blunt between his lips, lighter flicking at its edge as he inhales for a few seconds. he holds the smoke in, rotating the blunt a few times before straining his neck up to exhale a hefty cloud of smoke.

the sight leaves you breathless. hyuck is attractive, and of that you have been sure since the day you met.

but this hyuck, sitting next to you in his black leather jacket and dark jeans on the baggier side stirs something inside of you. it’s just one hit, but you’re outright entranced by his movements. he brings the blunt back to his mouth for another hit, and flicks it on an ash tray sitting on the table as he holds in the smoke.

your eyes don’t leave his hands, adorned in a few simple rings as he moves as if it’s just muscle memory, smooth and rehearsed. he again lifts his head to release the smoke, and this time you can see a vein that trails down his thick neck as it comes into full view.

what is likely not even half a minute feels like an eternity to you, and it takes a couple calls of your name to snap you out of your trance.

“earth to __? wanna try now?” hyuck waves his hand in front of you, offering the freshly ashed blunt.

“just a couple seconds, and not too strong of a pull. hold it in for a few seconds before releasing the smoke,” he instructs as you pick it out of his grasp. you nod, bringing it to your mouth.

you do as he says, pulling only for a few seconds before passing it back to him, intending to hold the smoke in. you don’t get to that point though, for as soon as the two second mark hits, your throat constricts as you involuntarily cough up the smoke you pulled from the blunt.

curses leave hyuck’s mouth as he quickly puts out the blunt, scrambling to hand you the water he brought earlier. you take it quickly, letting the water soothe your throat as you continue coughing between sips.

“are you okay?” he asks, worried expression on his face.

“i-i’m good, i thought i was gonna do better than that for my first one though,” you admit sheepishly.

“hey, we’ve got a lot of time to practice,” he reassures.

you’re not sure if the weed is already hitting you, but the warm hanging lights seem to illuminate his face even more. his fingers play with a silver chain laying on his white shirt.

“do you want to try another? or are you good?” he asks, peering into your face to check for any signs of dicomfort.

“i’ll try one more time,” you resolve, and he grins, firing the lighter back up. he holds the blunt up in front of you, and your hand moves to grab it, but he doesn’t let go, keeping it steady in front of your mouth.

“go for it, sunshine,” he gives you the go ahead, still holding it for you as your mind screams at the intimacy. you lean forward a bit to take a small hit of the blunt, trying to ignore his eyes burning into you. you make sure to inhale a little less than the first time.

“goood, just like that, now hold it in for a bit.”

you lean back into the chair as hyuck brings the blunt to his own lips, taking a drag out of it as he watches you carefully. this time, your throat doesn’t constrict, and you blow the smoke upwards emulating his earlier movements.

“that’s my girl,” he praises, smile stretched wide. you were doing so well, but his praise catches you at the very last bit of smoke leaving your throat, causing a hitch in your throat as you lightly cough.

he hands you the water again, patting your back as you curse under your breath.

“don’t worry, it’s still your first time, and i’ve heard coughing after smoking gets you even higher,” he coos, pats turning into gentle circles on your back.

you feel hyperaware of his touch, but when his hand separates from your form a piece of you longs to have it back. you glance at him as he takes another hit. you might not necessarily know what feeling high feels like yet, but whatever you’re feeling right now might just be it.

the anxiety and gratitude you felt coming into the smoke session has melted into something else — a desire of some sort that you can’t put your finger on. you know that’s not from the substance now in your system.

all you know is that the fuzzy feeling in your body and mind along with the dark-haired man next to you is something you could get used to.

after that day, something definitely shifted. you see hyuck a lot more, and every time he comes more than excited to teach you something new.

the next time you see him it’s pipes. he came prepared with two — one for you and him, and sent you home with the one you were using once you got the hang of it, insisting it liked you better.

another time is bongs. this one was pretty hard for you to get a hang of, and his hands guided yours on how to hold the bong and when to take out the bowl. it was hard to stay focused on the steps with his casual physical contact, so you’d have to revisit that.

one of the days, he even brings his dab rig set up to show you. you were completely lost with this one, and he didn’t force it, just assuring you that you could always come to him and he’d have it all ready and set for you.

he takes pride in showing you his creations, and is always quick to affirm you as you learn. while he never explicitly said he was doing it, you could tell after the first time you smoked that he wanted to find ways to make smoking a little easier on you.

you recall a specific day you came over to the shop, promised the “hyuckie special” by its namesake over the phone the night before. you were surprised to see someone other than hyuck in the shop once you arrived, especially since it was after hours.

“are you the one donghyuck’s been bringing around here?” a tall man with ashy brown hair tucked behind his ears stood behind the counter. he was really handsome, but also slightly intimidating. the tattoos on his exposed arms reminded you of your initial idea of what a plug looked like.

you muttered a timid yes as you approached the man. he definitely looked a little older than you and hyuck.

“johnny, i’m the owner of your little love nest,” he joked, hand reached out to shake yours.

you shook his hand, introducing yourself as you tried to tell him you’re just friends. before you could, hyuck busted through the front door, eyes going to your joined hands.

he stomped up to you, throwing an arm around your shoulder as you stepped back from the counter.

“what are we talking about?” he asked, pointed look at johnny. johnny just laughed loudly, clutching his stomach as you stood there, confused.

“relax lover boy,” he regained composure, turning to you. “thanks for keeping him busy, i should’ve known something was up when he stopped texting me every week whining about the shop.”

hyuck’s hand tightened around your shoulder, and he started tugging you around the back.

“don’t listen to him, bye,” he called not even looking back. johnny just waved, trying to keep down another laugh at his cousin’s erratic behavior.

“bye, __, see you around!” he waved, you returning it as best you could as hyuck pushed you through the door. as soon as you reached the back patio, a sulky hyuck started grumbling.

“you won’t be seeing him, he’s barely at his own shop anyways.” he plopped down on the couch, emptying his pockets as usual.

a lilac colored tin stuck out among his materials, and you picked it up to see what it was. his familiar neat handwriting spelled out your name.

“made that one for you, think you’d really like it,” he noticed you observing it, sulkiness gone.

a floral, herbal scent wafted to your senses once you opened it, and inside you saw a few joints.

“that’s the hyuckie special — or should i say the __ special?” he pondered, taking them from you to show them off. “i know you secretly prefer joints so don’t argue with me, but this one is a custom blend of a hybrid strain and dried lavender, you know, for your sleeping problem.”

you didn’t know what to say besides thank you over and over, touched at his consideration and the fact that he made a blend just for you. only for you.

from then on, that special blend quickly became your favorite as it really did help you relax a bit more. he would have his blunts of choice while you settled on the special formula made just for you.

your time with hyuck definitely shifted, but it wasn’t the only thing — something in you shifted as well.

that desire you felt that first night you smoked only burns brighter and hotter — the phone calls aren’t ever enough anymore, you need to see him, to be with him. even with a busy schedule with work and other friends, you make time, because being with him feels like nothing you have ever felt before.

somewhere along the routine of monotony in your life, maybe you subconsciously pushed yourself to the back of your priorities. but with hyuck, the way he takes care of you just makes you feel so prioritized, so seen.

he remembers your favorites and preferences even if mentioned only in passing, teases you with inside jokes only he could know, follows up on any gossip or worries you share, picks you up and drops you off at home, and never lets you pay for anything — food or weed alike.

you’ve never had an easier time falling asleep, with or without weed, and you can only assume that this connection with hyuck gave you a way of navigating the anxieties and negative feelings that plagued you. he felt like your person.

you could swear jeno’s eyes could fall out of his head from how wide-eyed he stares at you as you tell him all of this, from the generous lessons to the custom blend to your complex feelings growing by the day.

“you better not tell him any of this,” you warn, but jeno’s expression is still in shock. “what is it?”

“are you sure we’re talking about the same guy? hyuck? like lee donghyuck??” jeno asks in disbelief.

“yes?? who else would i be talking about?” you’re confused by your best friend’s reaction.

“no fucking way, because the hyuck i know would never do any of that. i don’t even think he knows when my birthday is,” he says.

“to be fair, i don’t think he knows when mine is either?” you offer. jeno looks straight into your eyes, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“no i mean to say — he doesn’t pay anyone that much attention, even his friends, and i know he’d never willingly shell out his weed money, let alone every single time you’re together,” he explains. “i thought the weed lesson was gonna be a one- or two-time thing, not a whole series.”

you didn’t think so either. the time you spend together isn’t even lesson-like anymore, with it just being smoke or tea sessions with endless conversation. there’s no clear definitions, but you know you need to ask jeno’s opinion.

“do you think he likes me? like likes me?” you ask your best friend. it feels silly to ask like that, to have feelings that makes you unable to think of anyone else.

but you ask even though you think you know. you’d be blind to not notice his actions, the look in his eyes, and johnny’s insinuations. jeno’s surprise at his special treatment of you is just further confirmation.

“honestly, in my eyes he’s down bad, but do you like him?” jeno asks, unsure if he’s liking where your conversation is going.

you’d be a liar if you said you didn’t. somewhere along the course of this whole thing, that desire that planted the first time you ever met him grew every time afterward and bloomed into something you could no longer contain.

you never tried to deny it, but you’re realizing this is your first time actually admitting it. you look down, suddenly shy under the focused gaze of your best friend.

“jen, i do. i really do like him,” you confess, entire body warming at the quiet declaration.

jeno’s quiet for a second before letting out a groan in response. you look up to see him with a hand over his face.

“what’s wrong?” you’re slightly offended at that response, but jeno just shakes his head.

“nothing, just always knew he was a corny flirt, just never thought you’d eat that up,” he muses. “he’s annoying, but he’s not a bad guy.”

“should i tell him?” you ask, hoping for advice. jeno shrugs.

“that’s up to you, i don’t know what your relationship with him looks like besides what you’ve told me,” he replies, not giving you an answer you so desperately want. “what i do know is i’ll kick his ass if he ever hurts you, and you can never replace me. got it?”

you lunge at your best friend, squeezing him affectionately and barraging him with promises of unchanging friendship.

you sit at your dining table reading the label of a little bag.

“a friend left this at mine the other day and told me to keep it, but i don’t fuck with weed so you can have it, little miss stoner,” jeno had said, giving you a bag of gummy edibles before dropping you off at home after dinner.

you thanked him for it at the time, taking it with you inside. edibles are the form of weed you are least experienced with. hyuck had explained them briefly, but you’ve never done them with him since he doesn’t really like them too much. he reasoned that smoking helps him control his intake better.

you’re feeling a little daring tonight, however. you have a lot more experience with weed now, and your tolerance has definitely risen.

though you’re a little nervous about trying them without hyuck, it’s too late to call and you feel a bit more confident at your weed capabilities. the you from the beginning of this weed journey would be surprised at how much you’ve changed.

it’s just a little gummy, how bad could it be? plus you have the next day off, kicking that worry. you pull out a single pineapple gummy, splitting it into halves before eating one. you settle into your couch, turning on your tv to let the edible kick in.

when an hour passes and you still don’t feel anything, you’re confused. you look up how long it takes for an edible to hit and check the package for an expiration date, but everything seems fine. has your tolerance risen that much?

you pick up the other half of the gummy, looking at it carefully before deciding it wouldn’t hurt to have a little more. the dosage per piece is not anything concerning, so you eat the other half without thinking too much.

when your eyes start to blur in the next 5 minutes, you know you’ve made a mistake.

you’re glued to your couch, staring at the ceiling as the high runs through your body, feeling a slight tingle from the top of your head to the tips of your toes, coming and going in intense waves. your thoughts race, and 99% of your thoughts are consumed by hyuck, hyuck, and hyuck. **

an uncertain amount of time has passed, your phone forgotten somewhere in your apartment, but you feel like you’re in an endless cycle of a million thoughts turning into no thoughts at all, all while your body is experiencing such a new, yet heavy feeling.

the smoking high is definitely different from this edible high, and you start to understand why hyuck prefers the former.

you don’t feel like you’re in control of yourself at all, and the feeling is entirely too overwhelming. the second half of that edible hits, with the high intensifying and your thoughts jumping yet again.

a feeling of dread runs through you.

you had been doing well keeping a general positive/neutral train of thought on that first half of the edible, but the second a single negative thought hits you, you find yourself unable to stop the spiral.

why did you do this to yourself? don’t you need to focus on other things? are you going to let this be another thing that drags you down? what does hyuck really think of you? do you really think he feels the same way as you?

you fight back against your own thoughts, wrestling to tell yourself that everything with him has been nothing with good, but the intensity of this high brings an entirely new side to all of this — paranoia.

hyuck had explained before that paranoia could come with being high, but you had overtime forgotten the possibility. being high has given nothing but good times and relaxation, but all of that could probably be attributed to the company you had getting there.

you don’t even realize you have tears streaming out of your eyes until your hand comes back wet after rubbing your face.

it’s all too much, and more than anything your mind screams that you need hyuck.

you force yourself to get up, hazy eyes looking for your phone, spotting it on the dining table.

12:27am. hyuck should still be awake gaming, and you can only hope that he is. you crumple to the floor as you quickly find his contact and call him.

only one ring passes when he picks up.

“what’s up, sunshine?” his voice rings through the speaker and you can hear the click of his mouse and keyboard in the background. immediately a sense of relief washes through your body, slightly breaking through the high and has the tears flowing harder than before.

“h-hyuck,” you sob, and immediately the sound of clicking stops.

“are you crying? what’s wrong? are you okay?” his concern makes you want to cry even more, but more than that you want him here with you.

“hyuck, i-i took an edible and i think i took too much and i’m so overwhelmed right now — i can’t stop thinking and crying and i’m just so scared,” you weep, and you hear rustling coming from the phone and the clinking of keys before you’re even done with your sentence.

“stay on the phone with me, baby, i’ll be right there, what’s your apartment number?”

he really knows you like the back of his hand. somehow, he knows that what you need most is him. even if he didn’t know that, the fact that he’s rushing over without you even having to ask helps you shut down the voices that tell you he doesn’t care.

10 minutes of affirmations and sweet words come as you cry, trying so desperately to hold back from telling him everything you’ve been feeling, including what you feel about him.

when his call cuts off with a knock at your front door, you stumble over to let him in, legs having fallen asleep from your position on the floor as you called him.

as soon as you open the door and see him, hair freshly washed and in a hoodie and sweats, the anxiety leaves you like a spell. his glasses are slightly fogged, and he’s catching his breath from rushing up here.

the second he gets a glimpse of your puffy eyes and tear streaked face, he comes in, enveloping you in the warmest, tightest hug.

you immediately melt into him, wrapping your arms around him as he leans back against the front door. you stay there for a few minutes, emptying your eyes out as he comforts you.

“hey, why is my pretty girl crying? what are you so scared of? i’m right here,” he coos as one arm remains securely around you as the other hand alternates between patting your head and massaging the back of your neck.

when the tears seem to have subsided, he waddles over with you still in his arms to your living room couch, and you remain firmly attached to him. he checks your face for anymore tears, and when he finds none, sits you on the couch to get you some water.

“where are your cups?” he asks, checking the cabinets, and you tell him there’s bottles in the fridge. you look at him from your spot on the couch, and immediately feel your heart pang.

this is the first time he’s actually been inside your apartment, but you can’t help but think that he looks so perfect here — that your living space somehow feels more complete than it ever has.

when he sits down with you, handing you tissues and water, he has a hand on your arm, rubbing up and down as you gulp down some water, only now realizing how dry your mouth is.

“so you wanna tell me what’s going through that pretty head of yours? and who you got these edibles from? because i know it wasn’t fucking me.” some agitation peeks through his otherwise neutral tone, but his eyes are serious as he waits for your answer.

you tell him about how jeno gave it to you, and hand him the package as he reads the label.

“you had one piece right? that should be fine, but it looks like you might be a bit more sensitive to this since it’s your first time with edibles.” he scolds you lightly, tapping your forehead. “still, i wish you would have called me to at least be on the phone with you when you tried it.”

“i-i wanted to, trust me. but it was late and i thought i could handle it,” you explain.

“that’s why i hate those things, only take them when i really want to feel high as shit, but look what they’ve done to you, baby,” he frowns, going back to rubbing your arms up and down. “any weed needs, you come to me, okay? don’t need my girl going to others for that when i’ve got more than enough.”

my girl.

you realize in your hazy state that his usual “sunshine” has been replaced with other, more endearing, names — my girl, my pretty girl, baby. the sound of his voice has always been addicting to you, but the affectionate names leaving his mouth take it a step further.

you want to hear more. with a boldness that could only be fueled by the weed still running its course through your system, you lean into him, laying your head on his shoulder.

“can you call me that again?” you murmur into his shoulder.

“what?” his voice right next to your ear sends chills all over your body.

“you know.. your girl.. i really like how that sounds.” immediately he’s separated from you, hands holding you at the upper arms as he looks at you with wide eyes.

“what?” he repeats again, and you could almost laugh at how shocked he looks at you mentioning a name he called you.

“your girl.. or baby too..” you say, dazed. you are definitely coming down from your high, but the ensuing sleepiness is making you even more honest. but more than anything, you want to be honest with him right now.

“wanna be your baby, hyuck.”

he lets out a pained groan at your words, running a hand over his face.

“__, you’re high as fuck. you don’t know what you’re saying,” he says, bottom lip between his teeth.

“i know what i’m saying,” you hook your finger around his chain, tugging him a little closer. “i want you to be my baby, too.”

you lean in, closing the distance between you as your faces hover just centimeters from each other. hyuck holds his breath, eyes darting from your glossy eyes down to your lips. he can’t help it, eyes getting hazy as you close the distance, kissing him.

he returns your energy, pressing closer to you with his hands grasping your waist. he moves to deepen the kiss, but after a few seconds the pressure on your waist increases, shutting his eyes tighter before pushing you back slightly.

“i hope you still mean this in the morning, because i want to be yours too,” he has a slightly pained smile. “but you’re so high right now, i don’t want to do anything you’d regret once you’re sober.” you whine at him trying to kiss him again while he stops you, holding your shoulders.

“don’t tempt me, you don’t know how hard you’re making this for me, baby.” he gets up, tugging you up along with him. “let’s get you to bed, sunshine.” he lets you lead him to your bedroom, his hands set on your shoulders, and you plop down on your bed, eyes already heavy.

you hold out your arms to him.

“sleep here tonight?” you ask, and he groans after slapping a hand over his eyes.

“you’re testing me,” he chokes out. you jut out your lower lip, but your eyes threaten to shut any moment.

“i’m not testing you, i just want to wake up to you, is that too much to ask?” in his eyes, you look so cute cuddled up in your bed, eyes begging him to stay. his heart soars as he realizes the sight he’s seen in his dreams could be a reality, starting now.

“i really can’t win against you, just give me a second.” he leaves for a little while, turning off the lights throughout your apartment and making sure the front door is locked before sliding into bed with you.

he immediately pulls you by the waist closer to him, and you, drifting to sleep, cuddle into his chest.

“i won’t do anything okay? don’t worry about anything,” he promises sincerely.

“thank you hyuck.. thank you..” you mumble a bit, nuzzling into him further, sleep taking over. he just holds you tighter.

“sleep tight, sunshine.”

that’s the last thing you hear before you enter into a deep, deep sleep, feeling secure and warm wrapped up in hyuck’s arms.

you wake up to soft snoring and long arms wrapped around you, and as you rub the sleep from your eyes his face comes into full view.

hyuck is sleeping so peacefully in front of you, and if one thing remains from your raging high last night, it’s that hyuck just fits perfectly in your space, it feels overwhelmingly good in his arms, and you want him here always.

“i like you,” the words come out as a whisper as you brush some hair from his forehead. he pops one eye open, elliciting a gasp from you.

“all good, sunshine?” he asks, and you nod. in a second he’s closing the distance between you two, laying a tender kiss on your lips. his arms tighten around you as you lean into him, letting yourself indulge in his warm kisses.

“this isn’t a dream right?” you ask sleepily, and he chuckles at the way you open and close your eyes to see if he’s still there.

“you dream about me?” he grins, and you hide your face back in his chest, nodding slowly. “good, because i dream about you too.”

any sleepiness you had has dissipated completely, and you feel like your heart would explode if you met his eyes right now. his hand, however, meets your chin to tilt your head back up.

“i like you too, by the way, if it wasn’t already obvious,” and with his own confession he meets your lips once more.

it takes a while for the two of you to get out of bed, with both of you dozing off and on, sharing lazy kisses and cuddles until hyuck’s stomach starts rumbling.

“maybe we should get something to eat?” you suggest, starting to slip off the blanket. he’s quick to try and stop you, but before he can catch you you’ve stood up, tugging hyuck by the arm.

“5 more minutes, pleaaaase,” he whines, arm going limp at your efforts to get him up.

“it’s already almost dinnertime, hyuck,” you check your phone, surprised at how much time has passed. his glasses sit next to your phone on the nightstand. while you’re distracted, he sits up at the edge of the bed, looking at you with a darker expression.

his hands trail down your waist, squeezing lightly once he reaches your hips. you drop your phone to be met with his hooded eyes trained on your lips. his eyes meet yours, and your breath hitches as he tightens his grip on your hips.

“i think i’d like to eat something else,” he whispers, leaning into your neck, peppering kisses from the bottom of your chin down your throat. you let out a surprised whimper at the sensation, chills running down your arms.

you move your head down, wanting to kiss him, and as if he reads your mind, his lips meet yours with a passion mirroring the one from the night before.

“lay down, let me get my fill, sunshine,” he urges, feeling himself already incredibly hard at the thought of himself between your legs.

“we’ve been in bed all day, we should take showers and eat first or something,” you start, but you’re cut off with a sharp tug, hyuck pulling you beside him. he sinks to his knees by your legs hanging off the bed.

“later, i need you so bad, you have no idea.” his hands move under your shirt as he loops his hands in the waistband of your sleep shorts.

“do you want this, baby?” he asks as you lean back on your arms, meeting his pleading eyes from his spot between your legs. you gnaw on your lip, already feeling the dampness on your panties. you do want this. so bad.

“i want you, hyuck,” you give him the go ahead. he’s more than willing to give you everything you want and more. he pulls your shorts down your legs, groaning at the sight of the wet patch on your underwear.

he pulls that off as well, spreading your lips with his pointer and middle fingers as he admires your core.

“stop staring, it’s embarrassing,” you look away, hips shifting as you feel yourself getting more and more turned on by the second.

“just admiring, baby,” he states warmly, glancing up at your embarrassed expression as he wraps his arms around your legs, hands digging in as he grabs at the flesh of your thighs.

he leans in, licking a stripe from your entrance up to your clit, ending his trail with a swirl of your bud. you moan out at the sensation, clutching at your sheets as he really gets his fill.

he’s messy, tongue going from prodding at your entrance to his face moving side to side over your clit. a growl leaves his throat as he feels your hands move to grip his hair.

“you don’t even know what you were doing to me last night, baby,” he groans into your cunt. “had me going fucking crazy.”

one of his arms unwraps from your thigh, hand pushing at your legs to keep them spread as his long fingers prod at your entrance, one entering you slowly as you grip his hair even tighter. he drags it in and out of you in time with the circles he licks around your clit.

“you’re my baby, right?” he asks, voice sending vibrations through you. he inserts another finger into your entrance and curls them into you, feeling around for a spot that will get you moving just right. he’s stretching you out so well, getting you prepared, wanting you to feel good.

you can’t even respond, already feeling your mind start to wander off, feeling a high so different from every other one he’s shown you. he finds a spot that makes you squeal just a bit higher, and he pistons his fingers in and out to hit that spot just right.

“where’s my sunshine from last night? the one hanging on to me, cute as fuck,” he recalls your high state, how you just melted into him in a different way from how he had you now.

“come on, one more time, don’t you remember? wanna be your baby, hyuck,” raising his voice to a teasing tone in a half-hearted imitation of you. his fingers don’t falter in the slightest.

“please sunshine, let me hear that again?” your mouth, open from the cries leaving you, can’t form any words. he leans down to lay a hard suck on your clit, sending you over the edge as you cry out, legs clamping down on his head as he rides out your orgasm.

he detaches from you as your legs drop, and he stands up between them to get a full view of you fucked out for him.

“fuck, baby, you look so fucking good right now. straight out of my dreams.” he palms himself over his sweats, feeling like he could burst any second, before ripping off his hoodie.

the sight of him standing over you, silver chain lying on his bare chest, is also something out your own dreams. you can feel yourself clench seeing his cock straining through his sweats. you catch your breath, mustering the energy squeeze him between your thighs.

in a second he’s pulling his sweats down, hard member slapping his stomach as he lays it on top of your core, admiring how it looks on your body.

“does my pretty girl need to be filled up?” he teases, pushing your legs up as he starts to tease at your entrance with his tip. you want it so bad, need it.

“then let me hear it, you’re my baby, right?” he lets his tip catch onto your entrance as you gasp.

“f-fuck, hyuck, i’m your baby! i’m your ba-” the second half of the word comes out as a shriek at the feeling of him entering you, bottoming out right away thanks to his prep. the feeling of being so full winds you, stealing the air from your lungs.

he hisses as your pussy grips him, throwing his head up. you can see the vein on his neck protruding, thick neck strained as he tries to get himself in check.

“relax for me, please baby,” he pleads through gritted teeth, circling your clit. “can’t move like this, i’ll cum too soon.”

you breathe in and out as the two of you try to reel it in, and his hips start to move slowly as he feels you adjust to him.

“you’ve been my baby since the day we met,” he breathes out. “since the time you told me you could take it.”

his voice has always been addicting, over the phone, in person, sober or high, but the way he talks to you in this moment just stirs something in your gut. you can’t stop yourself from clenching at his words.

“oh, you like when i talk to you like that?” he pulls out to push you up so your legs are no longer hanging off the bed, making his way to hover above you as he re-enters you.

“you’ve always been so good for me, always so eager to learn, always so willing to take everything i give you,” he lowers himself as he says this straight into your ear. his hips pick up the pace again, hissing at the clench from his words.

“can you, f-fuck, can you take it now?” he breathes out as he feels himself reaching you deeper and deeper.

“i-i can take it, hyuck, i can take it,” you moan out, tears pricking at your eyes as you shut them tight. he’s fucking you so well, and you can only moan as you do just that — take everything he’s giving you.

“you know ’d never do any of this for anyone else, o-only you baby, just wanna make my girl happy,” your heart clenches at his words along with your pussy.

“thought m-my heart was gonna stop when, shit, w-when you called me crying,” his words come out more choked as his hips rut against yours more desperately, starting to feel his own high coming.

“need to be with you a-always, be the only reason you’re crying.” you can only chant his name and yes as you feel the band in your stomach start to get tighter and tighter.

“i’d fucking do anything for you, i’m yours,” he chokes out, and your nails dig into his back.

“i’m your baby, i’m yours, i’m yours,” you repeat, brain unable to form anything else. his kisses your neck before moving his head back above you, his chain swinging against your face as his pelvic bone slaps against your clit harshly.

he moves his head up to kiss you deeply, messy remnants of your own arousal still on his toungue. the bed is creaking under the harsh movements as you get closer and closer.

tears stream down the sides of your face as the band snaps, sending you hurling over the edge as your back arches, gripping onto him tightly.

he curses under his breath repeatedly, hips stuttering to push through the tightness as he cums inside with a loud groan, pushing his head into your neck as he fills you up completely.

he goes limp on top of you, lying there for a bit as you both catch your breath. his softening cock is still inside of you, and you can feel yourself getting drowzy until his stomach rumbles.

he hisses as he pulls out, rolling over to lie down next to you. you turn your head to look at him, entire body spent. your eyes meet his, so soft and full of awe. he looks just as worn, but little do you know, he’s just getting started.

“round 2 after dinner?”

the next morning, a half-asleep hyuck nuzzles you to wake you up, having set an alarm for your work shift.

“sleep okay, sunshine?” his morning voice is deep and groggy, and it’s taking everything in you to not call out for the day.

you feel pretty well rested until you realize how sore your entire body is as soon as you try to wiggle out of his bear hug. his arms wrapped around you are unmoving as he tries unsuccessfully to fully wake himself up as well.

forcing yourself to sit up, you rub your sore back. his hands are still stubbornly attached to your form.

“like a baby,” you reply. you grab your phone, checking your schedule for today, concluding that it’s flexible enough to take a sick day. you text your manager, settling back into hyuck’s arms as you tell him you’re staying home. eyes still half-closed, he presses kisses into every part of your face his lips can find.

“good.” his response is simple as he speaks with his actions, pulling you in closer as the two of you drift back into sleep.

you’re content knowing that your mission to get rid of your sleeping problem was a 100% success, in more ways than just through weed, and that it’s ending with you having more than you could have asked for.

end.

a/n: if you got to the end, thank you so much for reading!!! i know i say this about every fic i've written, but this one was truly truly self-indulgent. it's my first full fic for my ult, longest fic yet, and a birthday present to myself :')

i really appreciate all the support for everything even though i have long gaps between releases. i have had sm fun, and i hope you all enjoy!! this one's more plot than porn but it's def getting a pt2 that's the opposite (it's already planned). thank you again, feedback always loved and appreciated!!

disclaimer: know your limits when consuming weed of any kind. also not all edibles are bad and can be so chill, just for my personal experience my own tolerance of edibles is low compared to smoking 😭 reactions/tolerances vary among people (edibles work better than smoking for many!) but pls be in safe place or with trusted people if you are trying weed for the first time !!!

-coco ♡

#finally got around to reading this!#its hard for me to have the energy to read longfics but ive been wanting to read this one for a long time #and im glad i did!! hyuck is soo fucking cute and hes so sweet 😭#immediately rushing over to yns house while shes having a bad trip is such a green flag #i had a bad experience with smoking waaay too much too fast once and it was one of the worst feelings ive ever experienced #and you captured the feeling of paranoia and not having control over your thoughts so so well #if i had a sweet hyuckie to comfort me i would have felt so much better 🥺#ldh

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raspberriesoda · 3 days

Text

thlut era (M)

pairing. nerd Jeno x female reader

genre. why did I write this AU, crack, fluff, can this even be considered smut, Jeno uses retainer head gear

wc. 3000

warnings. messy kisses, drool, virgin vibes, frottage, writer knows nothing about retainers💙

“You can’t push it back just one more day?!”

Jeno’s pacing back and forth ripping at wet clumps of freshly shampooed hair. The scowl between his brows deepening the longer he continues to beg for his best friend to reconsider for a new date.

“Dude, no one wants to party on a Sunday night! Can’t you reschedule your appointment?” Jaemin says, annoyed but sympathetic nonetheless.

“Reschedule my appointment and go another week with this contraption in my mouth?!”

“Listen Jeno, everyone’s excited about tomorrow night, and you better come. I won’t forgive you if you miss my Birthday because of your stupid retainer.”

Jeno grunts, pouting and ending the call after shouting “Fine!”

What’s one more day of suffering going to hurt anyway, it’s not as if everyone doesn’t already badger him and call him a freak over something beyond his control.

He nods, pep talking to his reflection while combing through his disheveled hair. It’s going to be his time finally, no more dumb metal distracting everyone from getting to know him better. He flexes, grinning to himself already able to imagine how many girls would throw themselves at his feet soon enough.

With a proud beam Jeno shoots finger guns at himself, tonguing his retainer securely into place. “Thlut era.”

“You guys look so cool.” Jeno’s not necessarily complimenting his friends, he’s annoyed. Why hadn’t anyone informed him to wear all black?

“I mean,” Haechan gives his friend the up and down, whistling air out from the side of his mouth. “It’s a party man, why the hell are you wearing suspenders?!?”

Jeno’s jaw pops open, jutting out his hip with an offended expression. “None of my pants fit me right now! You know I’ve been cutting mass and leaning out!”

“You look great!” Jaemin interrupts, slapping Renjun and Haechan across their chests. “He looks great! DOESN’T HE LOOK GREAT?!”

Haechan groans, rubbing his chest with a wide-eyed childish pout. “You know my nipples are extra sensitive right now!”

“No yeah, you look cool. Suspenders are totally in again, like I saw Tiktoks about how they’re in season just the other day.” Renjun nods, coining up a lie fast enough to seem convincing.

Jaemin’s eyebrow arches up impressed, nodding along with the story. “Oh right! All the rage at New York Fashion week. See dude, you’re good!”

“For sure?!” Jeno slurps saliva gathering at the corners of his lips, a habit after wearing the most ridiculous headgear for years now to prevent his teeth from growing in colliding with each other.

Jaemin sighs, tugging his sleeve down to pat off a trail of drool from his best friend’s chin. “Yeah.. for sure.”

He’d never break Jeno’s heart by telling him the truth. Jaemin’s glow up struck faster, but his friend would get there.. soon, he hopes. Besides, other than the suspenders, the loose fitted somehow still flooded above his ankles wrinkled church pants, and that God awful retainer.. Jeno wasn’t even a bad looking guy.

His jaw had come in nicely, cheekbones prominent, and for some reason he was able to pull off that gelled down dweeby hairstyle.

Jaemin sighs, shoving a can of beer toward his bestie. “Act casual, if you pretend that thing isn’t attached to your head like some sort of celibacy trap, I’m sure no one will notice.”

“It’s time for spin-the-bottle!” A chorus of giggles and girlish shrieks interrupt the four boys' conversation, twisting to catch a group of attractive girls break out from the throng of partygoers.

“Who wants to play?!” The captain of the girls wrestling team shakes an empty bottle of wine above her head like a trophy, shooting Jaemin a wink with her index finger directing him to come closer. “Birthday boy?”

Jaemin grins, blinking rapidly to moisten his eyes. The contacts he’s been trying out haven’t been the best for his allergies, but he kept mentioning something about girls loving his new look..

“Yeah, we’ll play!” He pipes up, motioning to the three guys at his side.

“Ugh, someone’s gonna have to makeout with brace face.”

Jeno’s heart flutters, his eyelids sticking together from looking up too fast. He’d know that voice anywhere, his crush since middle school stood there with a sneer on her face, positioning herself behind a few others to avoid his pathetic obsessive gaze.

“Leave him alone.” You mutter, rolling your eyes.

She scoffs, flicking your chin. “If he lands on me, you’re taking one for the team then. I refuse to touch that thing.”

“You’re such a bitch,” mumbling under your breath, you take in Jeno’s appearance.

He’s hopeless, from his heavy mouth breathing to his visible uneven mismatched socks. Not helping his appeal as he stands there licking into the mouth piece of his retainer. Small chunks of gummy snacks were always stuck between his teeth, the pack of treats in his left pocket everyday never empty. He sat across from you in class for years, popping little candy gummies into his mouth each time he’d successfully answered another question before anyone else could. Not that anyone even bothered to.

He could be worse.. it’s not like Jaemin became the new ‘it boy’ overnight.

Getting trapped in a closet with Jeno wouldn’t be terrible, he’s always been nice. Much too easy to pick on, but not much of a bother. He keeps to himself and his group nerds, interrupts professors when they try to target you to answer pop quiz questions you were clearly not paying attention to.

“Look at you, feeling pity for that nerd.” Your friend jeers, pinching your arm to sit near her.

Jeno’s trying to smooth his eyebrows down with spit on his fingers from across where he sits. Covering his mouth to huff breath in his palm, poorly attempting to be discreet as he gives his underarms a quick sniff.

He’s utterly painful, clearly crossing his fingers in his lap each time the bottle spins and cheers roar around the room as more and more partygoers exit to kiss in different closets around the house. The circle grows smaller and smaller with each spin, many excited to land on anyone while Jeno continues his silent chant before his turn.

“God, why me.” Your friend mumbles under her breath at your side, shifting away to set a space between your bodies. Her stern gaze informing you once again that she means it— if that bottle lands on her, you are taking one for the team.

“Hurry up Jeno!” The prayer he says to himself gets interrupted by Jeno’s booming vocals shouting out. Patting his friends back while giving him a thumbs up.

The wine bottle tingles under the tips of his fingers, calculating just how fast he would have to spin to land on the lips he’s dreamt of kissing for years. Another reassuring nod to himself has him spinning the glass finally, watching as the room stills, his breath evaporates, lost in the slow motion like way the bottle twists over and over again for what feels like hours.

The way it lands almost makes you laugh, sitting on your legs with the bottle's rim pointed directly at you. The enormous sigh of relief at your side too loud to even hear your own thoughts as Jeno’s eyes meet yours.

“You two can use my room since the closets are occupied!” Jaemin pipes up, patting his friend on the back. “You know the way.”

Jeno moves like a zombie to stand, flexing and unflexing his hands without giving you much more than a nod of his chin to follow him.

He’s silent up the stairs, walking to the beat of the music vibrating through the walls; the sound of hoots and hollers coming up from the small group of people left playing.

“We don’t have to do this Jeno, I know I wasn’t your ideal choice.”

The door clicks shut echoing throughout the bedroom you’ve followed him into. Everything tidy and organized as you would imagine for Jaemin’s bedroom to be, wall to wall covered in bookshelves lined with textbooks and non-fictional literature. The pristine atmosphere only adds more tension to your limbs while you glanced about.

“Huh? What do you mean?” Jeno’s voice cracks mid-question. Sweaty palms rub up and down the sides of his pants, gulping as he looks over your figure from the back. The realization setting in that he was about to have his second kiss.. his first had been with his next door neighbor in 8th grade; she bursted into tears shouting ‘gross’ after running off.

“I mean, don’t feel obligated to follow through on this stupid game.” Turning back to face Jeno, you notice how he shifts in place from foot to foot. His throat bobs up and down, the upper row of his teeth continuously visible even under dim street lighting flowing in through Jaemin’s bedroom window. The metal brackets on his teeth gleam, bouncing off droplets of sweat near his hairline, a few pouring down to his high-cut cheekbones.

“I don’t feel obligated!” Jeno sputters, licking his lips that feel endlessly dry for the thousandth time. “Do you feel obligated??”

“Not at all.” You say confidently, crossing your arms over your chest to study the small ways he twitches and fiddles nervously. “I just know you didn’t want to kiss me.”

“I do want to kiss you!” Jeno blurts, clearing his throat to speak up. “I would be lucky to kiss you.”

“Is that so?” A coy smile takes over your lips, taking slow steps forward that have Jeno’s eyes bulging wide open. With each movement closer, he shakily treds back until colliding with a wall. The breath he’s ready to take catches in his throat when you stop before him fixing him with a heavy gaze. “How do you kiss with that thing anyway?”

Jeno’s dark round eyes follow your fingers motioning to his headgear, innocently blinking as he wonders himself. It’s been years since his first kiss, one that didn’t include the contraption currently on his head. The memory of crashing teeth together before accidentally biting too hard on his neighbor's upper lip flashes across his thoughts, shivering to the tips of his fingers recalling the event as if it just happened yesterday.

“Jeno?”

“Yeah yeah, I’m fine!” Jeno squeaks, muttering under his breath to himself to be cool.

“You don’t have to be nervous, it’s just a kiss.” You reassure, only to receive a look of terror in return.

It’s just a kiss, to you, Jeno thinks as he licks the backs of his teeth to gather moisture in his mouth. His brain feels foggy, palms sweaty, pants tighter, stomach twitching at a rapid pace the more he takes in your features; spending more time than he should to admire your glossy coated lips. Lips that look soft, probably feel softer, taste like cherry, something sweet and girly.

“We have five minutes left now.”

Jeno’s eyes flitter up at your voice breaking his daze, quickly nodding to himself with another mental reminder that he can’t fuck this up. He lunges forward too fast, burying bony fingers past your neck to grip your hair. Unintentionally his hips slam into yours rolling your ankles in your heels, losing balance while Jeno attempts to keep you in place by clutching the hair along the back of your scalp.

“Shit! I’m sorry!” Panic fills his tone, jerking your head up, painfully ripping strands of hair out in the process.

“Jeno! God! At least buy me dinner before you start pulling on my hair like this!”

“Sorry! Fuck I’m so so sorry!” Jeno sighs, moreso groans, gently tugging himself free from your tender scalp to fall against the wall once more. Wrinkles cover the corners of his eyes, face turning side to side, emitting miserable sounds of mortification.

“It’s okay, you’re anxious. You really must be excited about this.”

Jeno’s too cute ducking his chin into his shoulder to hide the fierce blush he can feel taking over his cheeks. The redness swelling down to the tip of his nose, inflating his pink lips with blood that still appears tempting despite the way his retainer leaves him with no choice but to leave his lips parted open and breathe out of his mouth.

“Jeno?” Sliding in close, you gasp, pressing against his pelvic bone with your palms sliding up his waist. “Oh my God, you’re already?..”

Hinting with your gaze, you nod toward the top of your thigh nestled against a round bulge near his crotch. Furrowed eyebrows meet your line of sight, patting his pocket with confusion.

“Oh! My gummies!”

The smile on your lips drags down, following Jeno whip out a bag of chewy candy from his pocket. A mouth full of metal lighting up bright as he offers you a piece.

“You want some??”

Trying to not grimace, you let out a sigh, mildly annoyed by how endearing he is despite being the epitome of an awkward fool. “I’ll pass….. now we have two minutes.”

“Oh right, I’m sorry. I’m really dropping the ball here, right?” With a frown he pops a candy, pocketing the rest to weep into later when he tries to erase this moment from his memories.

“It’s kind of..” rolling your eyes, you shrug, squeezing his trim waist firmly. “It’s kind of cute..”

“Did you just call me cute??” Jeno’s lips part comically, blinking furiously in amazement. A small smile tugging at the corners of his lips, leaning back, he grins proudly. “You think I’m cute?? Like really?!”

“Ah, you’re making it weird now.” You can’t help but laugh, covering your mouth shyly because of the close proximity you’re still in. “Yes! You’re cute Jeno!”

Surprised and elated, he’s not sure what overcomes him. Smoothly pushing off the wall, Jeno cups your face, brushing the end of his nose against yours. Soft skin lifts your eyes curiously, eyeing him up close between shared breaths. The combination of your fruity lip gloss and his sugary gummies feels dizzying. It’s syrupy sweet, reminiscent of leaving a candy store with a bag filled to the brim with sour belts and lolli’s that leave your tongue stained for hours.

“Can I kiss you now?” Even his whisper tastes sweet breathily brushing against your lips. The hands cupping your face noticeably tremble, still sweaty where his palms connect to your warm skin. A silent nod is enough to encourage him, leaning close enough just to graze and consume the second you make contact. The lightest of touch and yet still enough to confirm what he already knew. Lips soft like silk match his next move, slotting together slowly, kissing in a way you’ve never experienced before.

Jeno kisses with lack of knowledge, he’s messy, eager to slip his tongue inside to get a taste and feel of every crevice of you. He knocks against your nose, teeth clink, breath’s pass between your mouths too loudly. It’s sloppy, but it’s perfect, egging your need to feel more. The hold on him turns powerful as you slot a leg between his.

The broken whine that rises from the back of his throat upon pressing your thigh on his groin only boosts your confidence, pushing onto your toes to create further friction against his groin. Jeno’s neck bends back, sucking in a deep breath, drool pours from the corners of his lips messily, mouth hung open from the pleasure overtaking his senses. Unable to control himself, his hips roll down to glide the ache between his legs against your thigh.

“Fuck Jeno..” heat swarms between your bodies, licking the path of drool working way down his neck. It’s nasty, but sweet and tangy like his tongue had been lapping against yours. The amount of drool spilling out of his lips only makes his lost gaze more obscene. “You’re so hard already.”

Jeno can’t even respond, letting out muffled moans. His tongue feels too thick, head too heavy, eyelids lowered by the weight of heat and sweat gathering in the slight crease. Even the ceiling spins as his head drops back smacking the wall behind him. The pain feels numb, too absorbed by the fire that's lit up in his gut.

He’s panting like a dog despite the short amount of time, rocking against your thigh desperately. The sensation nearly feels better than a tight fisted palm wrapped around himself, especially when your teeth gnaw at his chin and jaw, trying your best on your toes to kiss the corners of his mouth.

“Ughh, I c—can’t..” Jeno’s voice cracks again, the entirety of his face shriveling as his nose scrunches up. Grinding harder and faster on your thigh, his lips lock with yours once again, losing the shattered cry he lets out between your feverish mouth fighting for dominance.

Dampness on your thigh splits your kiss, breathing harshly while reaching up to sweep away Jeno’s ruined hair from his forehead. A guilty shame hides his gaze, avoiding yours with concentration on the ground as he composes his thoughts.

“Jeno, did you?..”

“Stopppp!” It’s more of a whine than a shout, again breaking off at the end with a crack. His palms lifting to his face to hide the intense heat consuming his cheeks that he knows must look beat red even in the dark.

“Aww, baby it’s okay. You were really excited.” A flush of heat hits your skin upon realizing Jeno really came in his pants off light touching. The bulge protruding from his pants thick and heavy against the now damp area on your thigh. “I’m sure Jaemin has something in here you can change into.”

Jeno nods shamefully, still embarrassed but grateful that you haven’t let out any sign of laughter.

“Want me to wait outside?”

Thanking you for being understanding, Jeno still feels dizzy when you make your way back to the party together. Sharing a look before separating back to your friends. The game led many to hooking up and parting ways with the friends they came with.

Demure glances from across the room become inevitable, even brushing your hair behind your hair when you catch him watching you with eyes as wide as saucers.

The guy with the retainer had to smile to himself before exiting the restroom after talking himself up to ask for your phone number. Licking across the metal adorned with blue strings across his teeth, he clicks his tongue, stiffening his back to broaden his shoulders.

“Thlut era.”

#ohhhh loser jeno 🫨#ljn

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