#jisung dark | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

neocentral · 10 days

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Rating: 18+. mdni. Pairing: Park Jisung x Reader Synopsis: The night Jisung had longed for didn't go as planned, leaving him clueless and confused. Feeling desperate, Jisung decided to confront you. Word Count: 5.6k Trigger Warnings: noncon, manipulation, very brief self-harm mention (skin picking), recreational drug use (marijuana) Smut Warnings: unprotected sex, loss of virginity, biting, slight scent kink Warning: My tags are not exhaustive. Proceed at your own discretion. Note: I don't usually write full-length fics so feedback and comments are appreciated! Wonbin version (I am riizeblr!)

You weren’t answering.

It had been three days since he had seen you and all that came after was missed phone calls and text messages left on delivered. You couldn’t even be bothered to open them. Jisung didn’t get it. What had he done wrong? You were being so cruel to him, especially after he had bared his heart to you days ago, left himself vulnerable and at your mercy. And now, you were making Jisung feel unwanted.

You acted like it was unexpected, something Jisung also failed to understand. There was nothing unexpected about any of this. Jisung had been scattering hints left and right since he met you. Back when the two of you were experiencing the unfortunate changes of puberty, brace-faced and skin littered with blemishes. But even then Jisung knew there would never be anyone he would want more than you. And you had been reciprocating.

You had stuck by Jisung through everything. You complimented and consoled him when he was too afraid of his daily contacts and he walked around with his cracked lenses for weeks before he got his hands on new glasses that were just as unflattering. You defended him angrily, tripping the boy who had teased Jisung’s lanky stature during gym, making sure to laugh louder than anyone else on the field when his nose met the ground. You had jumped into his arms as he dropped his matching admissions letter onto your desk, your smile bigger than his while you expressed your excitement of experiencing the world alongside him.

That was why the lack of responses left Jisung in the dark, escaping into the depths of his mind trying to piece together what happened. The night was perfect for Jisung—all of it. The setbacks didn’t feel like much to him knowing that things had undoubtedly changed that night, outweighing the certain struggle that had occurred.

Clearly, you didn’t feel the same.

Jisung threw his head back, banging it against the plush headrest of his car, exasperated and exhausted. He hadn’t slept since that night. His bed suddenly felt much too big and his body felt much too cold without you. Jisung tossed and turned, rubbing his puffy eyes as he stared at the ceiling for hours until he couldn’t take it and he picked up his phone again to text you, hoping you’d finally respond.

He sighed, feeling his lip twitch while he opened his messages, staring back at only a fraction of his pathetic pleading for your attention.

Today 2:46AM

Jisung: are you feeling okay?

Missed Call (2) 2:58AM

Today 6:47AM

Jisung: you aren’t answering me…

Missed Call 9:17PM

Today 12:46PM

Jisung: love :(

Missed Call (3) 1:18PM

Today 1:27PM

Jisung: ???

Missed Call (6) 5:58PM

Today 6:14PM

Jisung: pick up the phone y/n

Today 7:24PM

Jisung: this is getting kinda old now, don’t you think?

Today 8:01PM

Jisung: hello???

Today 9:34PM

Jisung: 🙄

Delivered.

Jisung blinked at his screen, a thumb hovering over the keyboard again. His other hand sat on his steering wheel, fingers anxiously tapping. He looked up. All the lights in your apartment building were dimmed, but he knew you were awake. You never slept this early, growing paranoid as your neighbors slept. The silence made you anxious. The mental image of darkened hallways and the flickering lights in the elevator. The emergency door was broken too, left ajar and unwatched. Jisung had advised you to move out, sending link after link about vacant apartments in his building.

You’ll be safe near me… I won't let anything happen to you.

You always dismissed him. You couldn’t afford an apartment on his side of town on your own and he knew that, but something inside him wanted to tempt you into asking him to save you in some way. It’s not like you hadn’t asked him before. You used to call Jisung to keep you company over the phone. You would tell him how comforting his voice was, his steady breathing calming your heart. Jisung wondered if you were still scared. Who else would you call? Jisung didn’t like where his mind took him.

Is this how you felt? All those nights alone in your rundown home, alone and surrounded by silence. Jisung wondered what it would feel like to be comforted by you, this time. After the words exchanged that night you should be more than willing. But then again, he wouldn’t be feeling this way if it weren’t for you.

Slender fingers hovered over his keyboard.

Today 10:33PM

Jisung: pick up the pho|

Jisung: I’m serious y/n|

Jisung: I’m running out of patie|

No.

Jisung: you won’t like what I’m about to do|

Jisung bit his lip, eyeing the words he typed without hesitation. What would he do? He blinked as an idea flashed in his mind.

No. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t.

Jisung: please don’t make me|

Jisung: please don’t ma|

Jisung: please d|

Jisung: ple|

Jisung swallowed. Would he?

Today 10:34PM

Jisung: you’re being incredibly immature.

Minutes passed and Jisung felt ridiculous for feeling dejected at the unchanging delivered. He didn’t know what he was expecting. He sighed again and slipped out of his car, kicking loose gravel and glancing over his shoulder as he pressed a button on his keys, watching the headlights flash as the doors locked. Once. Twice. He sniffled, the freezing wind making his nose run, catching him off-guard despite seeing the condensation fogging his windows throughout the hours he spent in his car.

The metal box of the keypad was even colder. He hurried as he entered the code on the keypad to let himself inside. He doubted it would take much to enter even if he didn’t have the passcode. Jisung paused, shaking his hair out of his eyes, what if something had happened to you? What if you were right the entire time and there truly was something lurking in the halls? A farfetched theory, but he still found himself feeling guilty for growing frustrated by you.

The trek up to your door was familiar. The walk that would leave him feeling giddy whenever you decided phone calls weren’t enough, but this time, his heart clenched. Each step he took made him feel like he was walking closer and closer to something he wasn’t prepared for.

The wood on the edges of your front door was chipped and the layer of paint thrown on top was streaky and thin. Jisung raised his fist, three confident knocks placed to the center. Jisung took a deep breath, rolling his shoulders as he waited for the rattle of your weathered copper doorknob.

Nothing.

Today 10:58PM

Jisung: I’m outside

Read 10:58PM

Jisung’s breath hitched in his throat. The desperation to speak to you, and clarify the events of that night amplified. He tapped his foot.

Jisung: open the door

Read 10:59PM

Jisung sighed, eyes flickering from the dim screen of his phone to the peeling paint of your front door.

Jisung: please?

Jisung: ?

If it weren’t for the breath caught in his throat, Jisung wouldn’t have heard the light padding of socked feet against the wooden floors. He doesn’t know how you do it. It was impressive that you had adapted to the subpar condition until you learned how to navigate your apartment in total silence, avoiding every loose wooden panel, light on your feet that were never missing cutely patterned socks. Jisung can see the thick fluffy socks in his mind, their lining protecting your precious feet from the cold ground.

Jisung was the opposite. It was like he couldn’t get away from the weak spots. His feet made an ugly creak bounce off the walls as he gave you a sheepish look. You smiled and told him you didn’t mind, unafraid of a little noise with him around. It made Jisung feel good to hear you say that. Each time, his heart swelled even bigger.

“I can hear you,” Jisung said, cheek hovering next to the door. “C’mon… let me in.”

He knew you could hear the pout in his words. You knew him well enough to know what he was feeling without him needing to tell you. He knew you just as well, at least, he thought he did. He was still baffled by this entire situation, lost and confused.

Jisung waited and still, nothing.

Jisung felt his eyes narrow and a thump in his heart. “Open the goddamn door, y/n.” He scoffed, “don’t you think I deserve some sort of explanation? At least give me that much.”

“Jisung?” you said, nothing above a whisper.

Jisung felt his breath leave his lungs. Your voice. God, he missed your sweet voice. “Yeah,” a small smile of relief lifted the corners of his lips, “it’s me… open up so we can talk, okay?”

His teeth caught his bottom lip as he waited, trying to calm his nerves. This time, the familiar rattle met his ears. The copper doorknob began to twist after a few harsh pulls. Jisung used to joke about you getting locked in, a teasing grin directed at you as he told you that not all monsters lurk outside.

Jisung saw your hands first. Your nails were coated with chipped nail polish, the same color you had been wearing the last time he saw you. They were a soft pink, the shade doing wonders for the melanin in your skin. But, you had been anxiously picking at the skin around your fingernails, some bits pulled too far, leaving your fingers littered with sore, exposed flesh. It was one of your worst habits, one that Jisung actively tried to control. When his usual tactics failed to work, he would sometimes offer his own hands. He let you pick and pull on his sensitive skin just so you wouldn’t hurt your precious digits. Jisung grazed his fingertips, feeling nothing but unharmed skin.

His eyes followed the trail of your arm as it came into view, covered in the material of an old long-sleeve that you wore almost daily in high school. Jisung had fond memories of the time. Dimmed lights and hushed voices late into the night at weekly sleepovers, secrets shared beneath blankets, or morning strolls to school with a warm cup of hot chocolate Jisung had prepared held in your gloved hands.

Jisung almost gasped when he saw your face. His heart clenched, his hands itching to reach for you and pull you close. He wanted to pull you against his chest, letting you hear the steady beat of his heart to soothe you until you finally hugged him back, gripping his shirt like he would slip away. Jisung would never dream of doing such a thing.

Jisung observed your under-eyes, the skin weighted and dark in color. Even the shade of your irises looked dulled. It was clear you hadn’t gotten any rest, much like Jisung. You probably sat awake all night, brain wandering to Jisung’s skin like his did yours. You looked at him, pupils flickering around his face that didn’t look any better than yours. The effects of being apart were apparent. You needed Jisung as much as he needed you. Perhaps this time apart made you realize that.

You blinked slowly, lashes fluttering and brushing against your swollen cheeks. Your lips puckered, teeth beginning to nibble on the inside of your cheek. Another terrible habit. Jisung wanted to kiss you, distract your restless mouth with his tongue. He wouldn’t mind, already feeling deprived of the taste of your tongue.

He lifted his hand, ghosting it over your chin. You recoiled immediately, moving your face from reach. Jisung swallowed. “You’ll hurt yourself, love.”

“I know,” you said. “I’m sorry.”

Jisung knew what you were apologizing for. You were apologizing for gnawing on your cheek, not for all the pain you had caused him. That is what you should be remorseful about. His tears, his stress, his confusion.

“It’s okay,” his voice was soft, movements slow as he stepped into your home. “The last few days have been hard for both of us.” Jisung kicked off his shoes, gaze fixed on your face that held an unfamiliar expression. “Things will be better now that we’re together.” He approached you slowly, hands lifted to show that he was no harm to you. Jisung would never hurt you.

You looked down, fiddling with your harmed fingers. Jisung heard you draw a breath. “I don’t want to see you anymore.”

Jisung’s mouth felt dry, his heart felt heavy in his chest, and his brain paused, “what?”

Your lips wobbled, the breaths through your nose short and rough. “I can’t… I don’t,” you exhaled through your mouth, soothing yourself this time. “I don't want to see you anymore.”

It was Jisung’s turn to be silent. What do you mean? Why don’t you want to see him? What had he done wrong? What had changed? Aside from the obvious inevitable progression of your relationship. It was bound to happen, surely you knew that.

“Love,” Jisung began.

“Stop calling me that!” you snapped.

Jisung tutted. He had always called you “love,” it was nothing new. It was second nature to him and you had never commented on it before, you simply responded like he had called you by your name. To Jisung you were love. You were his love.

“Okay. Y/n,” he emphasized, “I don’t understand what you’re trying to say here. What do you mean you don’t want to see me anymore?”

Your eyes turned glossy when you looked at him, voice shaky, “you hurt me.”

Jisung frowned, “no, I didn’t. I would never. You know that.”

Your next words were hardly audible but your eyes were blazing. “I didn’t want you.”

Jisung couldn’t deny that it stung to hear you say that. That night had been so beautiful. Perfect. An unforgettable memory Jisung’s entire being wished to recreate.

The stars were high in the sky that night, and the noises of the city were inaudible as endless trees surrounded Jisung’s car. You were huddled in the backseat– together like you always had been and always will be– giggling uncontrollably with a stolen blunt in between his slender fingers. Jisung liked you best when you laughed. When you didn’t hold back the cheerful shifts of your face, when you didn’t cover your mouth to withhold your precious laughter.

Jisung held the blunt to your plush lips, raising a dark eyebrow to signal you to inhale the burning plant. You giggled one final time, placing your hand atop his knee as you leaned in, red-tinted pout wrapping around it. Jisung tried to look away from your lips but he was only met with the sight of your hazy eyes and heavy lids blinking up at him. You inhaled deeply, fingers pushing into his knee as you pulled away. Your fingers pushed into his leg as you held the smoke in your lungs, releasing a slow, teasing stream into his face. Jisung coughed, waving his hand in front of his face as you continued to laugh, face still close to his.

He wanted to kiss you so badly. You looked ethereal under the faint stereo light, a golden cast lighting one side of your pretty face as the other was painted with a starry blue hue. It was quiet aside from the instrumental buzz of Jisung’s playlist and the sizzle of burning bud. Then, Jisung’s breath as his heart began to thump. The longer he stared at your mouth the more his lips craved to touch yours that hovered so closely.

Before he knew it, his lips pressed against yours. It was nothing more than a fleeting peck, a graze of pouty lips against one another. Still, Jisung felt his heart flip, the drug-induced weightlessness flowing through his body made worse by his vibrating lips.

He couldn’t pinpoint the expression on your face when he finally managed to open his eyes but Jisung swears your eyes were conveying the same burning lust as his. What else could it be?

Cupping your face, Jisung pulled you flush to his puckered lips. He savored the feeling of your soft lips against his, every dry crack, and tasting remnants of strawberry lip balm. You had gifted Jisung the extra that came in the pack of two, playfully pinching his lips as you handed it to him. You need it, you’d said. You go around kissing girls like that? Jisung only laughed, keeping his head in place for you to hold for as long as you wanted. He never used it, leaving it in the center console for you to use when you got in his car as if you owned it, like everything that was his was yours. Jisung liked seeing the way you applied it, carefully circling your mouth with precision.

Jisung’s tongue carefully flicked your lip, thumb brushing your cheek as he did so. He still felt your hand on his knee, so close yet so far from where he craved your touch.

He caught your tongue when you began to speak. Words Jisung will never hear were swallowed by his eager mouth that took the opportunity to roam the inside of yours. He could taste it all, saliva tainted with the flavor of weed and the unfinished package of gummy worms you had carelessly thrown behind you after Jisung offered you another hit.

He moaned against your lips as he moved his touch to your hips, desperation getting the best of him. He yanked on your sides until you rested on his thighs, warm and soft and weighted. His hands roamed your sides, slipping up and down your frame as you tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling experimentally. Jisung whined, pleased with the sharp pain.

The sound seemed to take you out of whatever mindset you were in as you began to pull away from his kiss. Jisung, however, couldn’t get himself to stop. His lips traveled along your jaw and down the line of your neck, licking away the salty sweat caused by the heater Jisung had forgotten to turn off. He moaned against you, nosing at the wet kisses he left behind, hoping that by inhaling deep enough, he could smell himself on your skin.

You whimpered when Jisung nibbled on your collarbone. Your hands found his hair again, “Ji…”

Jisung shivered, cock slowly filling with blood after hearing the shake in your voice. Unable to control himself, Jisung sank his teeth into the side of your throat.

You jumped, pulling away from him. “Ouch,” you frowned, delicate fingertips ghosting over the area.

“I’m sorry, my love,” he breathed. Your lips were puffy and Jisung felt his dick pulse. “C’mere,” he mumbled, running his fingers along the hem of your shirt.

You placed your hands on his, “I don’t think this is a good idea…”

Jisung hummed, leaning in until his nose touched your chest, “yes, it is. C’mon, baby.” He inhaled your scent, “kiss me just a little bit.”

“No,” you squirmed, “we’re friends, Ji.”

“Friends like us kiss,” he reasoned absentmindedly. “Friends like us kiss and touch each other,” his touch slipped under your top, “make each other feel good. Make me feel better… I’ve waited so long.”

Jisung’s fingers reached the wire of your bra, pulling it up so he could slip his hand underneath. He cupped your breasts, groaning while pushing his face deeper into your chest, “so long.”

You shivered, “stop.”

Jisung didn’t, instead, he pulled your shirt up and over your tits, yanking on your bra until it stretched above your chest. Jisung finally opened his eyes, shaking his hair from his face as he stared at the swells of your chest, watching your nipples harden, aimed at his mouth like they were asking him to kiss and suck and pinch.

You gasped as his warm mouth wrapped around one of the stiffened buds, gently sucking. You weakly pushed at his shoulder, “too far… this is too far.”

Jisung felt his pants tighten further, cock straining in his underwear. You writhed on his lap, unsure if you wanted to pull your chest away from his lips or press yourself against his pretty face.

He pulled on the string of his sweats, untying the loose fabric and pushing it down his thighs hurriedly. “No,” he said, leaving a wet kiss on the valley between your tits while his fingers crept closer to your skirt, “not too far. It’s not too far. It’s okay, okay?”

You jolted, recoiling at the sensation of his dripping head against your clothed folds. “No! Too far. Let me go.”

Jisung made a sound, pained and slightly hurt by your resistance. “I can’t. I need you. Look…” You didn’t. You couldn’t. You couldn’t face the dim sight of Jisung’s cock standing tall against his toned stomach, leaking and ready to push inside your velvet walls as his eager fingers worked to push your thin panties to the side, exposing you to the warm air.

You shook your head, weak from the marijuana coursing through your veins. “I’m not ready,” you whimpered.

Jisung hadn’t thought much about the comment at the time, too focused on aligning his cock to your hole. You were too sensitive, dripping from brief nipple stimulation. You clung to Jisung as he pushed inside you, tense and shaking your head against his long hair, whimpering. You hissed, nails pushing into his shirt, mumbling in pain. But Jisung couldn’t bring himself to care, too entranced by the tight squeeze around his dick, your body pressed against his, your searing breath, whimpers, and whines brushing past his ear.

Jisung should have known. A part of him feels guilty, but another feels smug, proud, and satisfied knowing that he was the first to defile you. Tucked into the backseat of his car, warm, high, and loving.

He hoped you could feel it. The love in the help he offered as he made you ride him, the love in every thrust when he couldn’t take the slow pace and he laid you down, fixing your messy hair until it left your pretty face. Your wet face. Jisung told himself it was sweat that covered it. It was tears from feeling too good. Tears of joy. Anything but what he knew it was.

Though, none of that mattered now.

Now you stood in front of him, a fiery film over your devastated gaze. You crossed your arms over your chest, holding onto your shoulders, concealing yourself. Your hair was out of place, your face was devoid of makeup and weighed down by dark circles, and your lips were bitten raw. The same lips that wrapped around every syllable of the statement Jisung can’t get himself to believe.

I didn’t want you.

Jisung chuckled, the noise devoid of amusement. “Sure, you didn’t.”

Jisung watched your chest inflate as you inhaled, glancing at the wall behind his head and avoiding his eyes as they looked for yours. “I told you I wasn’t ready. You just took it from me.”

Jisung paused. It. You couldn’t even say the word of what he had claimed. Not taken. Claimed. It had always belonged to Jisung. Your virginity. Your innocence. Purity. Whatever you wanted to call it. It all meant the same thing. Jisung had gotten the prize he craved for years, shooting his spent into your clean cunt, cream reaching far inside you, filled to the brim with him. Your precious cunt had received him so well, too. Your body knew what your mind didn’t. You wanted him.

“I know that’s what you said, but-”

Your eyes snapped towards him, looking at Jisung incredulously. “So you did hear me? You just chose to ignore me? To…” you paused, the roll of an “r” dying on your tongue. “You chose to take advantage of me?”

Jisung frowned.

Your lips wobbled, “I was scared.”

“Maybe at first.”

“Excuse me?”

Jisung sighed, “you creamed around me, baby. You squeezed me so tight I could hardly move. You cried for me. Milked me dry.” Jisung licked his lips, the memory flashing behind his eyes as he blinked, “you wanted me.”

Your lips parted, closed, then parted again. Jisung could see the way your brain turned as you looked at him, but again, he couldn’t figure out what thoughts went through your mind.

Jisung took slow steps towards you, wood creaking beneath his feet, “I know you still think about it.” He reached for your face, “how good it felt to be so full.”

You turned your face, removing Jisung’s touch. He reached for your hair instead, pushing it over your shoulder. “My cock fit inside you perfectly, didn’t it?” he tilted his head, slowly inching close to the crook of your neck, nose brushing against the surface. Jisung inhaled deeply, your scent made his eyes flutter shut. Your damp skin dripping with the smell of your sweet musk and body wash.

You said nothing, breath hitching as Jisung’s tongue flattened against your neck, licking. You squirmed, raising your shoulder towards the side of your face, hands ghosting over his chest, but your intention was clear. “Jisung, please.”

Glancing away from you, Jisung huffed. His eyes found the pictures lining your walls, stagnant memories framed for all to see. Most of them featured Jisung. His favorite picture was meticulously arranged in the middle – Jisung’s doing, of course – the first picture to capture the attention of all who observed the crowded wall.

Jisung’s arms were wrapped around your middle, his head rested on your shoulder. His hair was longer then, tangled with yours as the wind blew ruthlessly. Jisung remembered how cold it was, the ocean sending cold air in waves that made bumps rise along your skin. Your smile was as wide as his, eyes bright and beaming as you looked into the camera.

“I love you.”

Jisung kept his eyes on the picture as he waited.

“I do, too, Jisung.”

“No,” he shook his head. He faced you, cradling your face between his hands again. “I love you.”

“Jisung,” Your shoulders sag, your gaze dropping to the floor, “please don’t make me say it.”

“Then don’t.” A lump rose to Jisung’s throat, “Don’t. Because you do.”

“I don’t,” you whispered, a tear slipping from the corner of your eye. “I’m sorry but I don’t.”

Jisung felt his heart drop, “you do. I can prove it.”

His plump lips moved towards yours, his hold on your face lifting it. Your lips wobbled as he inched closer, scorching breath fanning his face, “please, don’t do this again.”

The words made Jisung pause. You knew his intentions. The act of love was on your mind too. Only now, Jisung knew it wasn’t in the way he would have hoped. What was a tarnished memory in your mind was one close to perfection in his. Your mind still betrayed you, telling you that none of this was supposed to happen. Jisung was meant to sit on the sidelines, watching as you stomped all over his heart until his last dying breath because you were unable to see what was there. The comforting and magnetic air that flowed between you and him, uniting you.

Jisung had only done something about it. It was unintentional, truly. Jisung hadn’t meant for any of it to happen but it still had. Everything worked in favor of your unbreakable bond. Your bodies had fit together like puzzle pieces, perfectly made for one another. Jisung would be damned if he let that get away. Especially now when it was inevitable that you would never want to see him again. You already told him so. What you and Jisung had would be thrown away, discarded like none of it ever mattered.

Jisung had to show you how great it would be. No matter what lengths he had to go through to do it.

He had never thought of hurting you before. He never wanted to. But a sick part of his mind knew he had to. His body moved on autopilot like he subconsciously knew what he had to do. He was capable of what he never thought was possible.

Unlike the first time, the kiss Jisung placed on your lips was anything but gentle. His insatiable hunger led his lips as they moved against yours. He pushed himself against you, trailing his fingers down your shoulders. Your teeth clashed with his, desperation consuming him as he grazed your tits. His tongue slithered into your mouth, running across your teeth as his hands cupped your chest. Your mouth fell open as you gasped, giving Jisung access. His pink muscle slid against yours, the sensation making you recoil as you attempted to get away. A small whimper sounded through the room when your head thudded against the wall behind your head. Jisung chased your mouth, a moan muffled by your connected lips.

Jisung sank his teeth into your lower lip as he pulled away, moving his attention to your neck. “Jisung, please. We can talk about it,” your words were shaky and he felt the hitch in your throat under his lips.

“We already did,” he sighed, leaving pecks on your throat. “You won’t listen.”

“I will!” you said. “I promise I will! I’ll hear you out this time just please,” you flinched as Jisung groped your breasts, “don’t touch me again.”

“You won’t understand,” he mumbled, nosing at your shoulder, “but your body knows.”

His touch inched toward your pants, pulling the elastic as he slipped his hands inside. Your cunt was as warm as he remembered, soft and puffy against his palm as the pads of his digits dragged along your slit. Sticky wetness leaked from your hole. Jisung groaned deeply, nibbling at your clothed shoulder, “you’re so wet for me.”

You sniffled, thighs pressing together as he tried to insert a long finger. You shook your head, the action ruffling his hair. Jisung moved his knee, lodging it between yours. Your legs opened, giving him the freedom to move his hands the way he pleased. Your hole fluttered against his knuckle as he shoved it inside you, your gummy walls sucking him in.

“That hurts, Ji, please,” your chest heaved with every word.

“I know,” he whispered, “but I have to stretch you out first. You’ll be okay, my love, I promise.”

Jisung sucked on your neck as he inserted another finger, using light nibbles to distract you from the stretch in your core. He slid them in and out, pulling them apart to stretch you further. Your pussy clenched around his fingers, sucking him deeper. Jisung felt his cock jump against his pants, reminding him of the fire in his stomach and the desperation to feel you squeezing his hard dick.

Your sweatpants fell off easily, hitting the floor with a dull thud. Jisung was quick with his pants, shoving them down his thighs just as he had the first time, only this time, they also fell to the ground, his belt buckle loud against the wooden floor.

He caught your eyes, seeing the way they widened as he pumped his cock, his intention clear in his features as he watched you. Resistance followed, pushes and squirms against him only serving to make him harder. Your chest rubbed against his, fabric still between you but Jisung didn’t care. Your pelvis curved forward in an attempt to push him away but instead, your bare cunt slid along his shaft.

Jisung hissed, gripping your hips with one of his hands, pushing you into the wall behind you. His cock dripped with precum, the substance allowing Jisung’s fist to easily glide up and down his length.

Eager, he guided his cock towards your heat, using his leaking head to circle your swollen clit. A moan wrestled its way out of your throat, your arms stopping their flailing as he pushed his cock between your folds, quickly finding your fluttering hole that called for him.

“Stop it,” you said, attempting to sound firm but your voice still shook.

Jisung simply shook his head, forcing the head of his cock inside you. He moaned loudly, bliss surging through his being with every inch he pushed into you. You cried out, the muscles of your thighs shaking in exertion around his hips. He kissed your neck again, biting harshly as he began to thrust in and out.

Your fighting picked up, punches and scratches landing on his back but they all went ignored as Jisung lost himself in the feeling he had missed and craved so deeply. Your head banged against the wall in frustration, and helplessness as Jisung rutted into you. The sounds that left his mouth were animalistic, his mental clarity making the euphoric squeeze even better.

Jisung couldn’t resist nosing at the sore flesh that you scrubbed raw the second you stepped into your apartment again. Despair and frustration fueled the aggressive drags of a washcloth along your skin. The scent had begun to fade, melting into the aroma of natural musk and slight neglect. Jisung relished in it, unknowingly making his thrusts pick up speed.

Finally, your body seized beneath him, the muscles along your body tightening. Your legs finally stopped kicking, your nails dragging across his back until they fell limp at your sides. Jisung lifted his face, hips stilling as he leaned towards you until his nose touched yours. “Keep cumming sweet girl,” He grinned, eyes fixed on your face. “See?”