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Jisung is so long. Long and lanky and loose-limbed. She’s got all the grace of a teenage boy, but it’s almost cute on her. Like a baby deer, taking its first steps on shaky legs. She’s so hesitant in all her movements. She thinks about everything she does at least twice, and then once she does it she sits back and thinks on it a third time.
Chenle’s trying to break her of the habit. She wants Jisung to take what she wants without any indecision, to reach out and touch without overthinking. To claim Chenle as hers without hesitation.
It’s easier said than done. Eight dates in, and Jisung still asks if it’s okay before she splays her (large, huge, ginormous) hands across the small of Chenle’s back. She asks before she opens doors for her and before she pays for their meal and before she kisses her cheek at the end of the night. It’s all very sweet. Saccharine and cute. Some part of Chenle appreciates that she’s being treated with so much care.
The other part of her just wants to get railed.
Jisung comes over again.
(Renjun had left a nasty little post-it note on the fridge that read, “ur girlfriend is over way too much for u to not be getting laid.” Chenle had texted her a middle finger and then left an equally nasty note that read, “and u get laid too much to still have that stick up ur ass.” After that, they’d both agreed to leave the subject be.)
“Come in, come in,” Chenle greets her at the door, her hair unwashed. It’s not quite long enough to put up, so half of it hangs limply from her scalp and the other half is secured in a messy bun. She’d barely gotten dressed before Jisung had asked to come over, just thrown on an old wifebeater sans bra and a frayed pair of basketball shorts.
Jisung’s eyes bug out of her skull as she takes in Chenle’s outfit. She’s dressed immaculately in comparison, a tall drink of water in her cute little mid-thigh black skirt and t-shirt, a flannel thrown over to match. Her long, dark hair is straight down her back. She’s wearing her glasses as always, even though she’d told Chenle three weeks ago that her vision is 20/20. It’s fine. It’s cute on her, anyways.
“Hi, Chenle,” Jisung says, stepping into the entryway. “Thanks for letting me come over. My roommates are the worst.”
“Aww, were you sexiled again?” Chenle asks and, at Jisung’s nod, continues, “You poor baby. Do you need to stay the night?”
She’s stayed over a few times now, but they haven’t done anything yet, much to Chenle’s chagrin. Just laid in bed next to each other while Chenle yearned for Jisung to reach out and touch her anywhere.
Jisung shrugs her shoulder and Chenle’s made aware of the bag she’s carrying. Ah. Her overnight bag. There’s one question answered.
“Yeah, I guess I’ll allow it,” Chenle says airily, waving her hand in the air.
Jisung crinkles her nose and steps further inside. “Thanks, Your Highness. It’s awesome when you allow me into your space,” she snorts, and then, more sincere: “Seriously, I do appreciate it.”
“You need better roommates, Jisungie,” is all Chenle says in response. For all that she wants Jisung to make herself vulnerable by way of wanting, she has trouble doing the same thing. Jisung shows an ounce of sincerity and Chenle’s quick to shut the doors on the conversation.
Jisung hums in reply and toes her shoes off, moving to drop her bag by the couch. She flops down onto the cushions without much preamble, throwing her head back and splaying her limbs.
“Have you eaten?” Chenle asks, in lieu of asking something more embarrassing, like “why don’t you touch me” or “do you even want me.” Safe, easy. Palatable.
Jisung nods and adjusts her (fake) glasses. “Yeah, I grabbed something before I left the house.”
Chenle snorts. “Yeah, and what was that? A protein bar? A bag of chips?”
Jisung looks appropriately shamed. She clears her throat. “A Nutrigrain bar.”
“Jesus Christ, Jisung. I’m making you a proper meal. Get up,” Chenle demands, and Jisung pops up from the couch like she’s attached to a spring. She follows her into the kitchen and leans back against the counter as Chenle starts to prepare something quick and easy. She’s got rice in the warmer from earlier and some kimchi she made last week in the fridge. Kimchi fried rice it is.
“Kimchi fried rice?” Jisung asks, peering at her. When Chenle nods, she cheers. “Nice.”
“What would you do if you didn’t have me to cook for you?”
“Starve, probably,” Jisung replies.
Chenle laughs once and then they both fall silent as Chenle prepares the familiar meal with ease, dancing to a rhythm in the kitchen only she can hear. It’s not long before she’s nudging Jisung to sit at the table and placing both of their plates in front of them.
Jisung moans as soon as the food touches her tongue, immediately coloring pink. She coughs. “‘S good. Your food always is, Chenle. You’re an amazing cook.”
“I know,” Chenle replies, but she’s preening nonetheless. She watches with clear intent as Jisung eats every last bit and even cleans her spoon with her tongue when she’s done.
“Thanks, Chenle,” Jisung says. She looks like she wants to reach out, take Chenle’s hand in her own, but something stops her. Chenle wants to grab her and shake. She wants to peel her head open and feel around until she finds whatever mental block is keeping Jisung from touching her and rip it out. “You always take care of me.”
Chenle flushes so fast she goes a little dizzy. She collects both of their plates and dumps them in the sink, sure Jisung can see how red the nape of her neck is, can hear how shaky her breathing’s become. So fucking embarrassing. Jisung spends all day consumed by anxiety over the smallest tasks (she’d watched a week ago as Jisung spent 15 minutes trying to decide on a smoothie flavor), but she can bare her heart without a second thought. She feels like Chenle’s exact opposite sometimes. Chenle’s quick to take what she wants, but getting her to admit to anything is like pulling teeth.
“Do you wanna watch a movie?” Chenle asks once she’s settled down and her flush has faded.
“Not really,” Jisung shrugs.
Chenle furrows her eyebrow. “Okay, what do you want to do?”
“I don’t know.”
“Okay,” Chenle says, barely suppressing the urge to strangle her girlfriend. “Do you wanna just sit here in silence, then?”
“We can’t talk?” Jisung asks.
“You’re the one who doesn’t know what they want to do!” Chenle cries, throwing her hands up, exasperated.
Jisung rises out of her chair and moves towards Chenle, who’s still standing by the sink, clutching the counter for dear life. God, she dwarfs Chenle. Towers over her. Looms above her. If Chenle didn’t know any better, she’d almost be scared of Jisung. “Is Renjun home?”
“Just us tonight,” Chenle says. She waggles her eyebrows at Jisung, suggestive, and Jisung goes red but doesn’t drop eye contact.
Jisung wraps a hand around her wrist and pulls her closer. Chenle follows easily, folding herself into Jisung’s arms and snaking a hand around her waist. “Can I kiss you?”
Chenle scoffs and looks up at Jisung. There’s a solid eight inches of height between them. “I’ve told you before that you don’t have to ask.”
“I just wanna make sure.” Jisung frowns. Cute. “What if one day the answer is no?”
“If the answer is ever no, Jisung, I’ll tell you. I promise. Now, please kiss me,” Chenle demands. She’s not begging. She never begs. But she gets pretty close.
Jisung’s still frowning, but she draws Chenle in and cups her face. She leans down and presses a kiss to her mouth, soft and chaste. It only lasts a second before she’s pulling off.
Chenle doesn’t whine, but it’s a near thing. “Jisung. You can kiss me harder. I’m not made of glass.”
“I’m just nervous,” Jisung says, biting her lip. “I don’t wanna hurt you.”
“You’re not going to hurt me, Jisung,” Chenle replies, firm. She splays her fingers across Jisung’s tiny waist and strokes in circles with her thumb. “Seriously. You need to stop worrying so much.”
“I can’t help it,” Jisung says, but she tugs Chenle in for another kiss, longer this time. A full, uninterrupted ten seconds. When she pulls off, Chenle makes a strangled noise in the back of her throat and curses God for giving her such a kind, understanding girlfriend. She’s fighting the stupidest fucking battle of all time. She knows Jisung wants her. She’s seen the way Jisung’s eyes follow her when she walks into a room, the way Jisung’s fingers curl out like she longs to touch. Jisung’s care for her is written into everything she does. Chenle just needs to give her the final push, because if she goes any longer without Jisung’s long, lean fingers inside her she’ll lose her fucking mind. “Was that better?”
“My God,” Chenle snaps, yanking her hand out from around her waist. She snatches Jisung by the shoulders and steers her to a seat, then forces her down into it. “It’s like you don’t even want me.”
“I always want you,” Jisung says, forever honest, like her heart’s a compass and Chenle is her true north. There’s a confused line to her brow. "I just didn’t know how to bring it up.”
“Then just bring it up! We can talk about it!” Chenle gripes, like she hasn’t been dancing around doing the exact same thing.
“You didn’t bring it up either. How was I supposed to know what you were thinking? I’m not a mind reader,” Jisung protests.
“Well, you should be!” Chenle cries, taking Jisung’s hand in her own and shaking it vigorously. Jisung tries to wrench her fingers out of Chenle’s hold, but Chenle tightens her grip and doesn’t let Jisung run from this, too. “God, we both make everything so complicated.”
Chenle brings their joined hands to her mouth and presses a single kiss to Jisung’s palm. Jisung watches, slack-jawed and starry-eyed with lust. Chenle sucks the tip of her thumb into her mouth and Jisung makes a dumb noise, like her lungs are rebooting inside her body.
She drops her thumb and seats herself on Jisung’s thigh. Jisung’s eyes are so far bugged out of her head that Chenle’s half worried they might stick there. “Since you apparently don’t want me,” Chenle sniffs, ignoring as Jisung mumbles a “not true.” “You can’t touch me until I come.”
“Seriously?” Jisung whines. “I’ve been dreaming about you for weeks. Not even your waist?” She blinks. Her glasses are lopsided on her face, her bangs disheveled. Her skirt’s ridden up her thigh and Chenle can only see smooth, milky skin.
“These are called ‘consequences,’ Jisungie,” Chenle chides, reaching out to grab onto Jisung’s shoulders. “You should get used to them.”
“You’re such a dick,” Jisung groans, but she’s tucking her hands behind her back like she’s worried she won’t be able to hold herself back. Cute. So, so cute. Chenle just manages to hide her grin.
Chenle’s wet. It’s her curse; she goes through life with a hair trigger for horniness. On their second date, Jisung tilted her head and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and Chenle excused herself to the bathroom to make sure that the sudden wetness in her underwear wasn’t her period.
She gasps as she starts to move. She’s still in her basketball shorts (she'd forgone underwear, because she'll be damned if she's not comfortable in her own home), but even through the layer of fabric the friction feels good. She gyrates her hips, slow and steady, biting her lip every time her clit brushes up against the seam of her shorts. Jisung is still frozen beneath her, unable to touch and clearly unhappy about it.
“Chenle, please,” Jisung whines. “You're so hot. I'm gonna die.”
“Not my problem,” Chenle says, swallowing a moan as she works her core. Every brush, every pass, every movement feels so good on her cunt. She's so wet she can feel it leaking out onto her thighs and between her cheeks. “Learn to read my mind and you wouldn't be in this situation.”
“You suck.” Jisung's pouting, and Chenle laughs and pinches her cheek before she can turn away from the affection, still grinding up against Jisung's thigh.
“So cute, Jisungie,” she coos. Her nipples are standing at attention, so hard they're probably visible through the thin fabric of her tank top. Chenle weighs the pros and cons of taking her shirt off.
Pros: letting the girls fly free, watching as Jisung's eyes bug out of her head again like she's in a cartoon.
Cons: it's kind of cold in the apartment.
There's no contest. Chenle uses a hand to tug the tank top over her head and flings it to the kitchen floor, then cups a breast in her head and gasps when she circles her own nipple.
Jisung makes a noise like she's been stabbed, something awful and strangled. It's in a pitch only dogs can hear. “You're evil,” she says through gritted teeth. “Down to your bones.”
Chenle huffs out a laugh and pinches her nipple hard, her hips stuttering as a sudden wave of pleasure hits her. She's so wet that she's sure she's soaked through her shorts. She hopes she’s leaving a mess of slick on Jisung's thigh, shiny and glistening. Almost like her very own snail trail.
She's getting close now. Her eyes flutter closed and she chases her high single mindedly, rutting against Jisung's thigh like her life depends on it. It certainly feels like it does. She's desperate in the way she grinds against her, desperate in the way she grips her shoulder.
She breathes out a sweet “oh” as she orgasms. It starts in her core and fans outwards through her body, little rocking waves of pleasure that sweep through her. She grinds down on Jisung's thigh harder through the aftershocks, barely aware of the pinched little ah noises she's making through her nose. She slumps down onto Jisung when she’s finally done, spent.
“Chenle,” Jisung says, her breath warm on Chenle's ears. “You're so hot.”
“Jisungie,” Chenle whines, tucking her nose into Jisung's collarbones and pressing a kiss there. “Need your fingers inside me. Now.”
“You can come again?” Jisung asks, sounding awed.
“Yeah,” Chenle says, only a little bit smug.
There's a pause. Chenle's all too aware of her heavy breathing, the way her chest heaves as her lungs fight to take in air. Then Jisung says, “Do you want me to finger you here, or…?”
Chenle's brow furrows. “In the kitchen? Don't be gross, Jisung.”
“But. We just. You just,” Jisung stammers.
“Take me to my bedroom. Or at least the couch. Have some class, Jisungie, seriously.”
“Right, my bad,” Jisung says, not sounding very sorry at all. Chenle can hear her rolling her eyes. “Do you think I can carry you?”
“Let’s not find out.” Chenle rises from her position on Jisung's thigh and grimaces at how wet she is. God, she really did soak through her shorts. Jisung's thigh is glistening, slick from Chenle's ministrations. She fetches her shirt from the floor and stands up, pretending not to notice how Jisung's eyes are glued to her tits. She can't blame her. She's got a pretty nice set. “C'mon, Jisung.”
Jisung nearly trips over herself in her haste to get to the bedroom. She lets Chenle lead the way, but keeps a reassuring hand on her waist and even closes the door behind them. It's sweet. Cute. Earnest. Everything Chenle likes about Jisung.
Chenle slips her shorts off and arranges herself on the bed, her legs spread open, her pussy on full display. Jisung looks stupid, like a cartoonish anvil has fallen from the sky onto her head. Struck dumb by want, by desire. It's all Chenle's wanted from her the whole time.
“You can touch me now,” Chenle says, lifting her chin, and Jisung drops her skirt and yanks her shirt over her head in haste. She scrambles onto the bed and cages Chenle in with her arms, looming above her in just her bra and panties (both black, exactly what Chenle expected). Her eyes are wide when she pulls Chenle into a kiss, deeper and longer than ever before. It's like Chenle's finally unlocked something inside her, like the dam holding back Jisung's want has finally cracked and her desire is pouring through. It's a heady feeling.
“Chenle,” Jisung says as they separate. “I'm gonna finger you now, okay?”
“Stop asking permission and just take it,” Chenle whines, spreading her legs even further. “I want it all. I promise.”
“Okay,” Jisung breathes, her fingers trailing their way up Chenle's leg, brushing through the untrimmed patch of pubic hair. She presses a thumb to Chenle's clit and Chenle jolts. “Cute.”
“Not cute,” Chenle says, resolute. “Try hot. Sexy. Breathtaking.”
“You can be all of those things and also cute,” Jisung replies, suddenly shameless as she presses a single finger inside of Chenle. Chenle bites back a moan at the intrusion, cursing the fact that she's so easy for it. Jisung's going to get a big head.
“You're hot too, though,” Jisung adds, crooking her finger and stroking her inner walls. Chenle's eyes flutter. “And sexy. And breathtaking. But cute most of all.”
“Please stop calling me cute when you've got a finger inside of me,” Chenle pleads, and Jisung laughs and adds another.
God, Jisung's fingers feel as good as she always imagined. Even before they'd gone on their first date, Chenle would see her around campus and her eyes would zero in on her fingers, elegant and beautiful. Jisung's got big hands. Thank God she knows how to use them.
Jisung's pace is slow to start. Chenle's so wet that her fingers slip in and out easily with a wet noise. She pets at Chenle's walls, scissoring once, before she pulls out again. She spreads her fingers and gapes at the way Chenle's slick webs across them. “Do you always get this wet?”
“Yeah,” Chenle grunts, hot with embarrassment out of nowhere. She turns her head and tries to hide it in the pillow.
“That's hot as fuck,” Jisung says, candid as can be. It startles a laugh out of Chenle. “No, I'm serious, Chenle. You're so hot.”
“I know.”
“No,” Jisung cuts her off. “I don't think you do. God, Chenle, I think about you all the time. I think about you when I wake up and when I go to bed. When I shower and when I'm eating and especially when I'm getting off. I'm obsessed with you.”
Chenle squirms. How Jisung says this shit with a straight face is beyond her. She feels the same way—of course she does, how could she not?—but the thought of verbalizing it stops her in her tracks. “You're so embarrassing.”
“There's nothing embarrassing about how I feel for you,” Jisung shrugs. She pushes three fingers inside of Chenle and starts to fuck her in earnest. Her other hand pins Chenle to the bed, her fingers wrapped around her wrist. Chenle can do nothing but sit there and moan as Jisung finally does what she's been begging her to do all this time: take it.
Jisung strokes inside her, feeling around and brushing past that one spot that always has Chenle seeing stars. “There,” Chenle breathes, and Jisung feels around until she finds it again, then presses down hard. Chenle wheezes as a sudden rush of pleasure fans through her body, not quite an orgasm but getting there.
Jisung presses a thumb to her clit and Chenle grinds down onto it, panting like she's just run a marathon. Jisung carries her to her orgasm with ease, gesturing her through the finish line with a crook of her fingers and another hard press on her g-spot. Her hips stutter on her hand and she moans the loudest she has all night, her eyes closed and her neck flushed.
Jisung's staring at her when her eyes flutter open again, hungry and wanting. “Can you come a third time?” She asks, sliding her fingers out of Chenle. She wipes the slick on Chenle's thigh. Chenle feels trapped under her gaze. “I wanna eat you out.”
“I feel like I've awakened a monster,” Chenle laughs.
“Can you?” Jisung repeats.
“Y-yeah, I can,” Chenle manages. It's hard to string words together after two back-to-back orgasms, much less when Jisung is looking at her like this, open and dark.
“Awesome,” Jisung says, sliding down the bed so she's face to face with Chenle's pussy, red and swollen. She's still got her dumbass glasses on, so Chenle reaches down to snatch them off her face and set them on the bedside table.
“Can't let those get ruined,” she teases.
Jisung tucks another strand of hair behind her ear and smiles up at her. There's a cheeky edge to it. “Thanks, Chenle. Now I can't see.”
“You don't need to see anything beyond what's right in front of you.”
“So bossy,” Jisung says, but she's leaning in to press a kiss to Chenle's thigh, like butterfly wings in how gentle she is.
“You like it,” Chenle shoots back.
“Yeah,” Jisung replies with a crooked smile, “I do. I told you.”
Her tongue touches Chenle's clit without warning, sending sparks flying down her spine. Chenle jerks in place on the bed, and Jisung's (big, large, capable, sexy) hands reach up to her hips to bracket her in place. The way Jisung looks up at her through her lashes is devastating. Chenle instantly decides she wants to keep Jisung between her thighs forever.
Jisung brushes past her clit again and then flattens her tongue against her pussy, licking a line up it. Chenle bites back a yelp. One of her hands flies to Jisung's hair and the other to Jisung's grip on her hips. Jisung smiles—Chenle can feel it in the way her tongue shifts and can see it in the way her eyes crinkle—and presses in further, dipping down into Chenle's cunt.
It feels heavenly. Even two orgasms deep, Chenle's still just as turned on as she was before she rode Jisung's thigh. She's like a teenage boy in how ready she always is for it, how she's raring to go at any moment.
Jisung's tongue, muscular and lithe, works its way in and out, up and down. She traces the alphabet onto Chenle's cunt. She swirls it around in circles, draws shapes with every movement. She alternates between sucking and licking on her clit. All through it, she keeps a steady grip on Chenle's hips, holding her in place with a strength Chenle wasn't aware she possessed.
“Jisung,” Chenle says, feeling that telltale tingle in her toes as her next orgasm nears like a tidal wave. “‘M close.”
Jisung hums in acknowledgment and keeps licking, slow and steady. Her nose brushes against Chenle's patch of pubic hair as she sucks at her clit again, fucking her tongue in and out.
Chenle's third orgasm of the night is mellower. It soothes her as it passes through her, her moans bubbling out of her mouth. Jisung fucks her through it until her face is damp with slick, her bangs sticky with sweat.
Jisung pulls off. “Was that good?” She asks. “For a first time?”
“Everything I dreamed,” Chenle admits. She tugs at Jisung's wrist to get her to clamber up the bed. It's time to return the favor. “Get up here so I can finger you.”
Jisung flushes. “Oh. Um. I already came,” she says sheepishly, but she crawls up the bed nonetheless to lay next to Chenle.
“You came untouched?” Chenle asks, awestruck. “When?”
“While I was eating you out,” she confesses. Her cheeks are so red. Chenle wants to eat her whole.
“You're so cute,” Chenle squeals, wrapping her arms around Jisung's lanky torso and squeezing her as tight as she can. “Next time, you're coming first.”
“Oh,” Jisung flushes. “Okay. I liked taking care of you, though. It was nice.”
“You're so…” Chenle trails off. She's unable to find the right word. Shameless, embarrassing, honest, earnest. None of them fit.
“Next time,” Jisung asks, her eyes dark when they meet Chenle's, her big hand splayed on Chenle's belly. “Can I fuck you properly?”
“Jisung, I already told you,” Chenle says, feeling her neck color. “I want it all. I promise.”
“You're so cute when you're embarrassed,” Jisung says, clearly gleeful. Chenle scowls. “It's okay. I can do the talking for both of us.”
“You're so annoying,” Chenle whines, throwing an arm over her eyes.
“Annoying enough that you don't want a round four?”
Chenle coughs. “Well, I never said that.”
Jisung's grin is sly, her eyes wanting.
Now, she doesn't ask if it's okay to kiss Chenle. She just reaches out to take it.