#dark!jaemin

so, you wouldn’t make a sound when he’d wiggle the doorknob, twisting it just right to pop the lock and let himself inside. you wouldn’t make a sound as he rolled his sleeves up and dipped his hands into the thick layer of scented bubbles, his soft fingertips roaming down your slick skin, kneading the tender flesh of your intimate areas.

you thought thinks would be different now. that your voice your discomfort as he groped your tits, his fingers gliding over your nipples, occasionally tweaking and tugging on the pebbled buds until you squirmed. you thought you’d push his hands away as he pushed his hands between your thighs, his fingers pushing against your folds but never delving between them.

but you don’t. you simply sit there like you used to, attempting to keep your eyes from tearing up because you have been able to get used to the inappropriate behavior. you let him guide you out of the porcelain tub and pat a towel along your skin, focusing on your delicate areas for far too long. you let him slather a coat of moisturizer on along your body, groping and savoring the feeling of your supple flesh before he slides a pair of panties up your legs and drapes a pretty nightgown over your frame. you let him kiss your forehead tenderly before sauntering out of your bedroom as if nothing ever happened.

your appearance catches your attention again, black streaks painting your cheeks as tears roll down the surface. your hair is ruined, gone was the hairstyle you had spent so long working on. you're grateful you hadn't put lipstick on yet when jeno shoved his way into your bedroom for the third consecutive night. each night was worse than the last, pushing your boundaries further and further.

the notification that falls from the top of jeno's phone screen, draws a gasp from you.

jaem

you on your way?

your eyes widen, the words replaced by jeno's blissed out face as the notification slides back up the screen. "j-" is all you can manage to say before you're cut off by another involuntary whimper.

jeno ignores you, continuing his actions.

jaem

?

another broken syllable of jeno's name bubbles from your throat dies in the air, overshadowed by the squeaks of wood, low groans, and slapping of skin.

seconds pass before the screen flashes, ending the recording as a picture of your brothers face replaces yours. you shut your eyes, trying to rid your mind of your brothers name flashing on the screen and the vibrations that come with it.

the rhythmic vibrations catch jeno's attention. "give it me," jeno breathes. you shake your head. jeno gives your ass a harsh smack, "i said give it to me."

you whimper as he continues thrusting, reaching shakily for the cellphone. you squeeze tears from your eyes as you start to reach behind your back. jeno yanks it from you, removing one hand from your hips to press the green answer button. he adjusts the phone between his ear and his shoulders.

"hey," he grunts.

you hear nothing, jaemin's voice drowned in the lewd noises filling your bedroom.

you watch jeno's eyebrows furrow as he grinds his hips against yours, "huh?"

more silence.

"fucking some slut," jeno says between his teeth. "she loves it. squeezing me so tight."

jeno lets out a short laugh through his nose. "you'd like that wouldn't you?" he teases. dark eyes lock with yours and a smirk slowly grows on his face at your panicked expression, "you want to?"

jeno's eyes stay on yours as he pulls his phone from his ear, tapping one single button before holding the device out to you. "take it." your lips quiver. "jaemin wants to listen." you can hear the amusement in his voice and you frantically shake your head, eyes pleading. you hear noise coming from the phone but jaemin doesn't speak.

please, you mouth with a single shake of your head again.

jeno rolls his eyes, tossing the phone in your direction. it lands beside your ear. you look away from it, crying at the fact that jaemin can hear you so clearly, the speaker mere inches from your heaving mouth.

"jeno," jaemin finally says, "don't think you're doing it right. i can't hear a thing."

jeno takes it as a challenge, adding pressure to the middle of your back, arching it. you can't contain a string of lewd moans as your eyes flutter shut and your body goes stiff.

"there you go," jaemin murmurs, "that's it, baby."

the pet name makes you nauseous, jeno's brutal pace adding to the feeling settling in your stomach, "s-top, jeno, please."

jaemin pauses, "y/n?"

jeno's body reacts to the static call of your name, a heady moan tumbling from his throat, "shit."

you sniffle, glancing at the man fucking you while trying to distract yourself from jaemin's realization that it's you he's listening to. "jeno," you whisper in his ear, cringing at way it comes out sounding like a moan, "p-lease."

jeno seems to think the same, growling as he ruts into you. "you like it? you like that he can hear you getting fucked by me? y'want me to fuck you harder, huh?"

jaemin says your name again, "s'that you?" you can't place his tone, too fucked out to analyze it. "you're letting my best friend fuck you? with me on the phone?" you wish you had the strength to tell him of the unrelenting grip jeno used to hold you down but all that comes out is a sob of embarrassment and shame. "you slut."

you clench around jeno, making him laugh as he groans, "she's so fucking tight right now, jaem. keep talking."

"if she's reacting like this from just my voice," jaemin's low voice mumbles, "imagine if i was watching. looking her in the eyes as you fuck her slutty pussy. do you want that?"

"no," you force out, pushing back on jeno's hands as you try to move away from the phone, "don't want."

jeno grips your hair, making you yelp as he pulls you towards his chest. "don't lie," he grits, "you're getting tighter. are you close? are you gonna cum?"

you muffle your noises by biting your lip, swallowing your whines and whimpers. a squeak sounds through the room at a particular thrust and you meet his eyes as he lifts his head from where it hovered near your ear.

"i told you," he says, his finger slides down your cheek, "if you wake her up, she'll take your place," he mumbles, tone sweet and soft despite his words. "you don't want that."

you shake your head, whispering a broken, "no."

jaemin took you along one night under the guise of another 'date'. the masks had come out and he could almost taste the panic that exuded from you in the form of a gasp and hand over your mouth but it only met the material of the matching mask your boyfriend had delicately placed over your face. jaemin's hand was wrapped tightly around a weapon, a knife shining bright and silver, the dark handle covered by his hand, knuckles white and splattered with crimson blood.

breathing of his victim turned from rapid and rough, spitting up thick blood to slow and ragged, and finally, nothing. an exhale and the man’s chest never puffed up again. you began to sob, pulling the mask off and crumbling to the ground. your hands covered your face, gloved hands shaking.

jaemin rushed over to you, cradling your wet face as he moved his face to attempt to catch your eyes. "hey, hey," he whispered, "it's okay. don't cry, pretty girl. it's over now."

that only seemed to make you cry more, and you pulled your face away from him and dropped it between your knees. you flinched away from him when he placed a gentle hand atop your knee. he released a breath, "baby, look at me, please."

you shook your head, wrapping your arms around your thighs to keep them closed. he huffed again, louder.

"look at me."

you did so with hesitance, the white of your eyes now red and the surrounding flesh puffed. your eyes fell to his mouth, slight horror surfacing in your eyes as you spotted his victim's blood that dotted his pink lips. jaemin grabbed your face again, fingers grasping your chin as he pulled you in. you whimpered as his warmth reached yours but he kept on and watched how tightly you shut your eyes and the way your eyebrows cinched.

but here he is. with crystal beads trickle down his soaked eyelashes and puffy eyelids, his inflated, ruby-colored cheeks, and quivering pout. still, he shakes his head from side to side. once. twice.

jaemin laughs, his own face flushing as he examines the scene in front of him. a blubbering jisung painted crimson, lean muscles stiff, glossy and sticky all over. you, a similar glistening sheen, trembling hands covering your swollen face.

“jisungie,” jaemin coos, “why are you crying?”

jaemin swipes a hand across jisung’s back. jisung ignores it, a light hiccup leaving his throat, unable to muster enough energy to slap the scathing touch away from him as he finds himself stuck in his head again.

he isn’t being forced. jaemin isn’t holding him down like jisung is hold you. he isn’t pushing on jisung’s hips, making him thrust in and out of you repeatedly. jisung is doing it all himself, actively choosing to keep you beneath him when all he has to do is let go of your arms, slip his cock out of your strained hole, lift his weight from your body, and you’d be free to go.

but he isn’t. he won’t. he can’t.