#jeno fanfic

[neogotmycookie]

it's not that deep | l.jn

summary: in the midst of jeno trying to help you pass a statistics class, you become friends, and eventually, that friendship turns into something neither of you can define. you say he fucks around too much. he says you're not his type. and as far as you're both concerned, it's not that deep anyway. pairing: fuckboy student!jeno x f!reader.       genre: university!au, fluff, crack, angst, friends(ish) to lovers, smut! mdni! woop woop   word count: ~25k    warnings: oh boy… jeno and oc are both warnings in this, emotional constipation, a lil toxicity but it's all love, jealousy, they fuck obvs, kissing, spitting, fingering, dry humping, oral (fem receiving), he eats it from the back, multiple orgasms, overstim, dirty talk, praise, possessiveness, light choking, lots of teasing, nipple play, his dicc is big bc…cmon, he's a hard dom but the tables do turn a couple times, rough sex, he alters her brain chem, sweet sex also, multiple positions, jen goes through it in one scene(you'll see), angst!!!!, same page!hae makes a few appearances (yes, that's a warning), alcohol consumption, there's a lot more tbh but im so tired rn  a/n: happy gooning!!! that’s it. that’s the tea. also pls send me love im a desperate whore. i'll get a girl boner for each note/ask. ALSO!!! im now officially an unemployed international postgrad student so pls support me on ko-fi (if you can), it would mean the world to little old me👉🏼👈🏼 i genuinely hope you love this fic. i almost went mental writing it - pls excuse any typos. thank u love u bai :’)  masterlist | ko-fi

Jeno isn’t supposed to be upstairs.  

Jaemin’s party has already tipped into chaos — music too loud, bodies packed too close, laughter spilling into corners it doesn’t belong — and Jeno feels detached from all of it. He’s tried to lean into it, tried to drink past the restless feeling sitting heavy in his chest, but it hasn’t worked. 

Someone mentions his room being occupied offhandedly, like it’s a joke. Jeno barely reacts at first. People drift in and out of rooms at parties all the time. It shouldn’t matter. 

Still, his feet carry him upstairs. 

The hallway is quieter, the noise dulling with every step, and when he stops in front of his bedroom door, something feels… off. There’s no grim moans bleeding through the walls. No laughter. Just a silence that doesn’t quite fit with the rest of the house. 

He hesitates, fingers curling around the handle before he pushes the door open, and his eyes land on you: lying back on the bed with your legs dangling over the edge, one arm resting across your stomach, hair falling loosely around your face. Even from the doorway, you look… different. 

“Y/N?” His voice comes out tentative, cautious. 

His suspicions of you being asleep disappear when your head quickly raises. Your wide eyes show surprise.  

“Jen? Hi.” You sit up quickly, as though you’ve been caught red handed. “Is this your room?”  

“Yeah.” He nods, taking in the perplexed expression on your face. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?” His words come out rushed as he shuts the door behind him, giving you both privacy and all of a sudden, he feels like he’s intruding, even though you’re in his room.  

“Yeah, sorry, just needed some privacy.” You shake your head. “I can go.” You rush to get up and he instantly feels guilt wash over him. 

“No, no. You’re fine.” He cuts you off, his hand waving defensively and you settle back on his bed with a sigh. “Did something happen?” He asks carefully, somewhat worried now. He’s never seen you like this before. Not that he sees you much outside your tutoring sessions, but the times he does, you’re all chirpy and playful, always cracking jokes. He doesn’t know you well but it’s evident that you’re not your usual self.  

“Um, not really.” You scoff, an exasperated laugh leaving you. “It’s silly, don’t worry about it.” Your eyes stay on your hands as you play with your rings and he realises he’s never noticed them before. Pretty, he thinks. 

He moves to sit on the carpeted floor, leaning his head on the foot of the bed, next to where your legs are dangling off the edge. He’s now decided that this situation is a lot more interesting than the chaotic party Jaemin decided to throw downstairs. Half his friends are drunk off their faces, the other half busy getting there, while Haechan and his girlfriend have already disappeared to god knows where. And you? You seem somewhat sober and definitely in need of some company.  

“What’s up, Y/N? You’re clearly upset.” He presses, not happy with your vague answer. Jeno is a nosy guy and he knows that about himself, but in this case, he’s also worried and for some reason, he can’t seem to be able to let this go.  

“I’m not upset.” You defend, making clear that he’s touched a nerve. “I’m pissed off.” Oh? He can’t help but crane his neck sideways to look up at you. Your eyes meet for a split second and it’s clear as daylight now, you really are pissed off. But there’s something else behind your eyes, he can’t quite decipher. Embarrassment maybe? 

“Shit.” He turns to look in front of him again, legs crossing to make himself comfortable. “Who’s the culprit?”  

“Classic shitty ex with his shitty new girlfriend, you know the drill.” You explain, sounding like you hate yourself for even talking about this. Jeno gets it.  

“Ah. I assume they’re here showing off their happiness?”  

“You assume correct.” You confirm and Jeno can’t see you, but he imagines you nodding your head.  

“Want me to beat the shit out of him?”  

Your snort tells him that he’s succeeding at making you feel a tiny bit better and he can’t hold his smile back.  

“You wouldn’t hurt a fly Lee Jeno.” He feels the mattress dipping behind him and when he looks back up he can’t see your face anymore. You’re lying down again.  

“Hey, I work out.” He elbows your calf playfully, earning another tiny laugh from you.  

“Really? I couldn’t tell.” Your sarcasm doesn’t go unnoticed.  

“I see you checking me out when I talk stats.” He jokes, expecting a snarky response.  

“I’m just a heterosexual female, Jeno. I see muscles, I stare.” So, you do check him out?  

“I mean, I was joking, but stare away if it makes you happy.” It’s your turn to make him laugh, kicking him in the ribs lightly. A comfortable silence falls upon you both and Jeno ignores the buzzing coming from his back pocket, probably Jaemin or Jisung looking for him. He’d rather be here right now though. Not because he enjoys your company, he just feels a sense of calmness he doesn’t want to ruin. Or at least that’s what he tells himself. 

“Feeling any better?” He breaks the silence a few moments later and for some reason, Jeno feels comfortable enough to lean his head against your leg, eyes closing to stop the room from spinning. He realises he must be slightly more intoxicated than he thought he was now that he’s sitting down and he smiles when you don’t retract, his temple resting on your soft calf.   

“A little.” You nudge his head with your leg. “Thanks.” You say softly. “And sorry for spoiling your night.”  

“You didn’t.” He reassures you quickly. If anything, you made it interesting, but he doesn’t admit that out loud.  

“How come you’re up here?” You ask, as though you’ve had an epiphany and Jeno lets out a short laugh through his nose, eyes remaining closed.  

“In my room?” He teases and he’s aware that he’s deflecting, but he hopes you don’t catch him.  

“Ha-ha funny. You know what I mean.” It was worth a try, but there’s no deceiving you it seems.  

“Just not in the right mood for a party.” He confesses, sounding almost defeated. And he feels it.  

“Tired?” Jeno can tell you’re sat up now, you voice coming from directly above.  

“Yeah, it appears trying to force knowledge in that pretty little head of yours takes it out of me.” His joke lands well, getting a laugh out of you but then you startle him with a flick of your fingers on the back of his head. “Oi!” He leans forward, hand cupping the spot you just attacked.  

“Insult me again. I dare you.” Your provocative tone intrigues him in a way, even though the pain on his scalp.  

“Damn woman.” He complains, the heel of his hand rubbing his head now. “Do that to your shitty ex and you’ve got yourself a gorgeous homerun.” He jokes and almost flinches when you lightly ruffle his hair in a comforting manner. Soft and tender. A complete opposite to your usual demeanour. 

“Care to answer my question now?” You return to your previous subject, not letting it slide and he’s almost annoyed that you’re so observant.  

He leans back again, resting his head on the mattress and he’s met with your face. From this upside-down angle, he notices the necklace that dangles off your neck as you lean forward to get a better look at him. It’s dainty, like your rings, and it sits prettily between your collarbones.  

“Just felt a bit lonely, I guess.” He admits and he feels exposed. It’s been sitting with him all night. He hadn’t meant to say it, but now that he has, it feels strangely relieving. He can’t quite put his finger on the reason, but he thinks it has something to do with the way you look at him. No judgment in your eyes, just understanding. Could also be the fact that you’re upside down.  

“As in, there’s no one to talk to or no girl to stick your dick in?” Your question takes him aback and if he weren’t looking at you, he might have thought you’re mocking him. Your perfectly serious expression tells him otherwise.  

Jeno shrugs. “Both?” God, he sounds sad.  

“There’s plenty of pretty girls downstairs, no?” You shuffle to the edge of the bed now, sliding down to join him on the floor, mirroring his way of sitting. Though your eyes are on the ceiling, his are stuck on your side profile, your neck and that stupid necklace. Have you always been this captivating or is he just drunk and horny? He’s always thought of you as a girl who happens to be a friend. Not his usual type. Or maybe that’s his way of coping with the fact that you’re actually too good for him.  

“None I’d wanna stick my dick in.” The words leave his mouth before he can contemplate them and your eyes close as you breathe out a chuckle. “Plus, my room was already occupied anyway.” He teases, smiling at the way your kiss your teeth, feigning annoyance.  

“My apologies, Mr. top shagger. I was experiencing a misery crisis.” You retort, lazily turning your head to stare at him. His laugh dies out a second after, but his smile lingers as his eyes drop to your lips for a mere second before trailing back up to yours. There’s mischief written all over your face and for the first time in what feels like forever, Jeno feels flustered. It’s like you’ve got him all figured out and he knows that if you were to read his thoughts right now, you would most likely condemn him to eternal hell.  

“What?” He asks, deflection getting the best of him again.  

“Nothing.” You shake your head, diverting your gaze to your hands again. “You’re the one staring.” There’s a subtle tint of pink on your cheeks and now it’s Jeno’s turn to smirk. You’re shy. Because of him.  

“That’s new.” His observation comes out in a hushed tone. Not intentional.  

“What is?” Your eyebrows furrow in question and your eyes find his again.  

“You’re blushing.” He points his chin at your face and to his surprise you don’t shy away. Instead, you maintain eye contact, one eyebrow raising daringly as you try not to smile, tongue poking into your cheek.  

“And you’re flirting.” The slight tilt of your head gets his heart going a little faster. “That’s also new.” Your smirk returns and your eyes narrow, studying him. 

“Is it though?” Whatever has taken over him, Jeno can’t explain it, but you’re reciprocating and he has no intention of stopping until you do. What are the odds of this going to shit anyway? 

“When have you ever flirted with me?” A genuine question, nonetheless, not a valid one. Jeno’s flirted with you in the past. Subtly. But he has. Aways harmless. No ulterior motives. Until now. 

“You know I have. You’ve just never flirted back.” He explains casually. It's the truth and your cheeky grin accompanied by your silence validates his argument. You might be terrible at stats, but you’re not oblivious. “Do you not want me to flirt with you?” He tests.  

“I never said that.” You shrug, your nonchalance doing something to him he can’t quite describe. He feels it in his spine though, and it’s unnerving and hot at the same time.  

“So, you want me to?” He doubles down, enjoying whatever turn the conversation has taken. Your hesitation intrigues him, gaze drifting down to his lips for a split second before returning to his eyes. Jeno knows the signs. 

“Never said that either.” 

“Oh, fuck off.” His hand has no business grabbing the back of your neck and your lips have no business being this soft against his, yet both of those things are happening before Jeno can process his actions and he can’t stop the low grunt that rumbles in his chest. You kiss him back like you expected it, like you were prepared for it and that eggs him on even more.  

You shuffle closer, your hands finding home on the sides of his neck, holding him close, making his head spin as he struggles to stay sane. The low moan you let out against his lips allows him to lick into your mouth, tangling his tongue with yours, gliding, flicking, tasting you eagerly. He really shouldn’t be doing this - fuck stats, fuck tutoring - but the thought doesn’t even register.  Not when you look so good on his floor and taste even better on his tongue. He only knows that you’re here, close, and he wants more. 

He tugs on your hair, blunt nails scratching lightly at your scalp and you obediently allow your head to loll back, giving him space to attack your neck with wet kisses, your perfume invading his senses, clouding his mind as he sucks on your pulse. He smirks when you whine, the sweet sound reaching his already half hard dick. He lets his other hand travel down your body and when he reaches the inside of your thigh, he squeezes the flesh, waiting for you to protest, to stop him or indicate in any kind of way that you don’t want him to keep going. Instead, you spread your bent legs expectantly. 

No words are exchanged apart from a low ‘fuck’ he lets out when you hurriedly dip your hands under your short skirt, tugging at your panties and the second they’re on the floor, Jeno wastes no time. His fingers find your folds instantly, rubbing from your entrance to your clit and he grunts at the wet glide, so fucking wet, he thinks as he circles your bundle of nerves slowly at first, then more determined, wanting desperately to get you off. It’s like he’s possessed. He can’t think straight, the only thought dancing around his mind is seeing you fall apart on his floor. 

You bring his lips to yours again, hands pulling at his hair as your tongue invades his mouth and your hips grind against his hand. He’s in a slightly uncomfortable position, butt still on the floor, body twisted at the waist as you’re splayed on his carpet, head resting on the edge of his mattress. Not that it matters anyway. 

“Make me cum.” You moan in his mouth; demanding and breathy and he swallows it with a filthy kiss, moaning when he dips a finger in your needy hole. You’re so wet, making his mind go blank and he feels like he could give you anything you asked for at this point. He pulls out, trying two fingers this time, knowing you can take the stretch with how drenched you are.  

“Pull your skirt up.” He instructs softly, lips dragging against yours.  

You do exactly as he asks, revealing the unholy sight of his fingers slowly fucking into you. Your clit is engorged due to the arousal and he can’t shake the thought of his lips wrapping around it, sucking as hard as he pleases, flicking until you’re shaking. He settles for splitting you open with his fingers for now.  

He curls the digits slightly, pressing them upwards as he starts drilling into you at a rough and quick pace. The quelching noises sound almost melodic to him. That’s what good pussy sounds like, he thinks and he relishes in the loud mewl you let out, knowing he’s hitting the right spot.  

“There?” He breathes out against your temple, desperately needing to unbutton his jeans, the constricting feeling torturing him, but your nod keeps him going.  

“Yeah.” You pant, your eyes on his hand, taking in the erotic image as your nails dig into his thigh through his godforsaken jeans, and he wishes he could feel your touch properly, without any barriers.  

He makes sure the heel of his palm stimulates your clit each time he fucks into you and he praises the universe when your walls flutter around his fingers.  

“Oh my- fuck!” You cry out as you head tips, eyes rolling back, jaw dropping in a silent moan and Jeno feels lightheaded at the newfound, sinful image of you climaxing. Your cunt clamps down on his hand, making it impossible for him to keep thrusting, so he buries his fingers all the way in your pulsating heat and starts harshly rubbing your clit with his thumb. Your thighs start quiverig, eventually closing and trapping his hand between them, preventing him from continuing.  

Your expression resembles an angelic one as you take deep breaths, trying to resurface back to sanity. “Jesus.” You whisper, almost like a prayer and he lets out a short breathless laugh, nails scratching the back of your scalp to help you calm down as your body still trembles.  

“You good?” He bends down a little, stealing a kiss off your shoulder. The reason unknown to him, but he doesn’t question it either.  

“Mhm.” You nod lazily, turning your head to look at him and your fucked out eyes remind him of the big problem in his jeans. “I think we should fuck.” You blurt out unexpectedly and he feels his eyebrows raise in surprise. He thinks exactly the same, he just didn’t expect you to spell it out like it’s the most normal thing in the world. But then again, you’ve always been the blunt type. A woman who knows what she wants. He’ll bite.  

“Do you, now?” He purposely feigns surprise as he drags his fingers out of your now relaxed walls and doesn’t even warn you before hooking his arms underneath you; one around your middle, the other one under your bent knees. Your small yelp makes him smile and your arms coming to wrap around his neck in urgency tug at his heartstrings in a way that makes him feel dizzy. 

 He carries you for a few seconds as he walks around his bed, dropping you so your head lands on his pillows. You bounce a couple of times before sitting up, resting your weight on your palms.  

“Don’t you think that’s inappropriate?” He asks, trying to maintain a serious tone but removing his t-shirt anyway.  

“Just a tad.” You say absentmindedly, eyes shamelessly trailing down his naked torso, landing on his hands as they work his belt undone. Jeno is aware of his above average size, but your eyes slightly widening when he shoves both his jeans and boxers down, definitely do wonders to his ego.  

He kneels on the bed, shuffling until he’s situated between your already parted legs. He taps on your chin with his index to get your attention. “You’re drooling. Arms up.” He bites his lip trying to conceal a smile as you sit up properly, extending your arms above your head. “Cute.” He mumbles before dipping down to take hold of the hem of your top, dragging it up and off you, revealing your pretty tits. The lack of bra causes his brain to short circuit for a second before discarding the top somewhere behind him and he doesn’t waste time, moving to unzip your skirt. He smirks at the way you adorably raise your bum to help him remove the last piece of clothing.  

“How do you want it?” He asks, trying to sound unaffected, all the while aching to touch you all over, heart threatening to jump out of his chest. You bite your bottom lip in thought, contemplating your options.  

“Can I be on top first?” You ask tentatively, neck craning so you can look up at him. You’re so pretty like this. Splayed on his sheets with nothing on but that necklace he can’t seem to get enough of. Jeno nods in understanding, gathering that you’re most likely worried he won’t fit in any other position and he’s more than happy to let you take him however you please.  

He plops down next to you on the mattress, still sat up and you quickly follow, dragging your knees on his sheets so you can straddle him. His hands move instinctively, taking hold of your hips, pulling you closer as you slightly hesitate and the second your knees trap his hips between them and your arms wrap loosely around his neck, he allows his own to slither around your middle. Your tits brush against his chest and he has to hold back a groan at the soft sensation.  

His eyes find that necklace again and this time he can’t refrain from voicing his thoughts. “That looks good on you.” His chin points at the piece of jewellery and you look down momentarily before realising what he’s referring to.  

“Thanks. I like yours.” You pull at his plain silver chain with your fingers, bringing his face closer to yours. Your blush is back, making him feel giddy. What’s wrong with him? He can’t even blame it on the alcohol; he feels mostly sober now. 

He trails a hand up your side, palming your breast momentarily before his fingers tuck your hair behind your ear, palm coming to rest on the side of your neck, thumb tracing your jawline delicately.  

“Can I kiss you?” You ask hesitantly, your lips almost touching.  

“You can do anything you want.” He utters quietly and he sighs when you close the tiny gap, your lips moulding against his. You kiss him deep and slow - slower than he’s used to - lightly nipping at his bottom lip, a satisfied hum escaping his chest when your hands tip his head back a little, yours angling to the side so you can deepen the kiss. Your tongue obscenely glides against his, your taste invading his senses and the wet smacks of your lips turn him on even more. His cock twitches between your bodies and he moans when you push him by the shoulders, letting himself land on the pillows, dragging you with him.  

“Fuck, how are you so hot?” You whine as you trail kisses down the side of his neck and he huffs out a laugh, the compliment reaching his ears as he feels them getting warmer.  

“Have you seen yourself?” He breathes out weakly as you suck on a spot that has him reeling, his hand tangling in your hair to hold you there, giving you permission to mark him.  

“Shut up.” You murmur against the sensitive spot, your tongue soothing the scratch of your teeth.  

“Fuck you.” He retorts childishly, hands grabbing your ass, squeezing greedily, pushing you downwards as he grinds his hips up, length slipping between your puffy folds, your arousal coating him perfectly. “You’re so wet.” He moans against your shoulder as you keep sucking greedily, and Jeno is positive the spot on his neck will feel sore tomorrow.  

You sit up abruptly, eyes finding his, looking enticing as ever, pupils blown out, lips wet and swollen. You shock him when you lewdly dribble in your palm before reaching down to engulf his painfully hard cock in the very same hand. 

“Jesus.” He pants as you lather him in your spit and slick, the glide of your hand sensational. You shuffle slightly upwards, aligning him with your entrance and he helps you maintain your balance with his hands on your waist.  

“Ah, fuck.” You whine when his tip breaches your snug hole and he feels like he’s losing his mind. There’s no way a pussy can be this wet and feel this good. Your contorted expression tells him you might not be enjoying this as much as he is though, which brings him back to reality.  

“You okay?” He drops his hands to your ass cheeks, spreading them as far apart as they can go, hoping the action offers your pussy some relief.  

“It stings a bit.” The cute scrunch of your nose makes his heart race, and he has to refrain from fully thrusting into your pulsating heat. “Keep your hands there.” You plead and he does, holding you open as you try to sink down a little further with a whimper of discomfort.  

“Come here, kiss me for bit.” His words must affect you, the tightening of your walls suffocating him, but you follow through, arms wrapping securely around his neck as your lips find his again. He kisses you slow, matching your rhythm from before, tongues gliding languidly, still wet and messy, but mostly intimate. Too intimate. And he knows it’s working when your walls start relaxing around him, your cunt producing another gush of slick that drips down to his base.  

He takes matters into his own hands, hips raising to thrust into you little by little in quick, short pumps and when your mouth drops open against his, he moans, finding pleasure in pleasuring you.  

“Better?” He whispers, searching for any signs of discomfort as your eyebrows crease adorably.  

“Uh-huh.” You nod quickly, nose bumping against his as you kiss him again, all tongue and teeth, and Jeno doesn’t stop fucking you. Even when he’s fully sheathed in, he keeps going, quickly but gently pumping into your slippery warmth, length barely pulling out before sliding back in. “Fuck, you’re s-so deep.” You whine dreamily and he loves that you’re not moving, hips still, trusting him, taking what he’s giving you from underneath as his hands stay on your ass, holding your cheeks apart just like you asked him to.  

When you sit up a little, palms resting on his chest as you start meeting his thrusts, you let out a loud moan and Jeno assumes his cock is hitting exactly where it should be hitting. Your tits are bouncing beautifully, nipples hard from arousal and he wishes he had his mouth all over them, but doesn’t risk changing the angle of his hips, fucking you how you need him to. He doesn’t need your words, just your closed eyes, slack jaw and trembling breaths are enough for him to know you’re lost in pleasure.  

“Jen- f-fuck me harder.” Music to his ears.  

“Yeah? You sure?”  

“Mhm yeah, right there, just harder.” You nod quickly, eyes pleading and how could he ever deny you anything.  

“Fuck, baby.” He barely registers the pet name leaving his lips, but he knows it does something to you, pussy gripping him a little tighter than before and when his hips start smacking against yours, ass jiggling in his hands, you both moan loudly.  

“Oh, fuck, y-yes, like that.” You cry out, back arching, head tipping backwards in ecstasy and Jeno can’t find it in him to stop staring at you. There’s sweat dripping between your bouncing breasts, and all he can think is how much he wants to lap it up, how much he wants to lather your nipples in his spit and feel the weight of your pretty tits in his palms.  

“Rub your clit for me.” He requests in a frenzy, desperate to see you fall apart again. Your ring-clad fingers quickly find the swollen nub, drawing frantic circles around it and Jeno feels his balls tightening at the sight, cock throbbing as he nears his end. Your eyes find his for a split second before they roll back as you visibly start shaking, your hand quickly leaving your clit with a shriek as though the stimulation feels painful. “That’s it.” 

 He doubles down even through the kneading of your walls around him, thrusts becoming more brutal, balls slapping against your ass. He becomes desperate with the way your nails dig into his chest, his grip on your ass tightening, causing the flesh to ripple. He selfishly hopes his fingers leave bruises, reminding you tonight for days. 

He swears the obscene slapping sounds that echo, along with your loud cries of desperation, surpass the best quality porn he’s ever watched. If he could only have a recording of the incoherent blabbering leaving your mouth now, he’d happily ditch all the porn sites and just listen to that whenever he’d want to bust a nut. 

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck.” You cry out in panic, desperately trying to raise your hips, unable to handle what he’s giving you, but that just urges him to drive into you even harder, refusing to hold back now that he’s got your body spasming hard on his cock. “J-Jen- I c-can't, f-fu-”  

He wraps a secure arm around your middle, quickly manoeuvring you on your back and before you can protest, he’s slipping right back inside your warmth, his lips silencing your cries. Your arms wrap around his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as he supports his weight on one arm, hooking your leg over his elbow, fingers digging into the flesh of your thigh. His hips resume their abuse, cock driving into your spent hole repeatedly as he seeks his own release. Your pussy is still quivering around him, forcing a guttural groan out of his chest.  

“So fucking good.” He mumbles in utter bliss, your walls squeezing him just right and he accepts defeat, knowing that he can’t last much longer. “Can I cum inside?” He asks for permission, half conscious of the fact that he’s not wearing a condom. He feels helpless.  

“Yeah.” Your hands squeeze his biceps in reassurance. “Fill me up, Jen.” You whisper and he swears it’s the most erotic thing a girl has ever said to him during sex. And he’s fucked many girls. None have uttered his name like you do though.  

“Shit.” He’s panting uncontrollably, his sweat dripping on your skin, mixing with yours as your hands come to cradle his face in comfort, and he gets this strange feeling in his chest. You’re too tender. Too soft. And then you’re leaning up slightly, kissing him but it’s almost as if he’s forgotten how to use his lips, mouth hanging open against yours, releasing a deep grunt as his orgasm takes over him. His arm starts trembling, struggling to hold him up, blunt nails sinking into the flesh of your thigh as his hips stutter, pumping messily into your wet heat, hot spurts of his release painting your gummy walls, claiming you in the best way possible. He wonders if he’s entered heaven or some unknown dimension, convinced that the way your cunt is milking him is out of this world.  

When his thrusts come to a halt, length burying inside you as he releases your leg, he hears the whimper you let out, feels it against his lips and that reminds him to kiss you again. And again. And again. Until you both can’t breathe. Until his lips feel sore. Until you’re desperately pulling at his hair. Until he’s had enough of you. If that’s even possible. 

He slips out with a sharp inhale, making you mewl and you’re both looking down, taking in the sight of his now softening cock, all covered in both of your releases. He sits up a little, shamelessly staring at your pulsating hole while forcing your legs wide open. Some of his cum escapes, slowly dripping down to your ass and Jeno feels lightheaded at the sight of your pretty cunt; all puffy and swollen because of him.  

“Stop staring you creep.” You complain, playfully kicking him in the ribs as his hold on your inner thighs loosens.  

He observes you for a moment; taking in how beautifully ruined you look. Your chest flushed, sweat all over your skin, nipples still slightly erect, tits jiggling a tiny bit from your intense breathing. The blush creeps up to your neck and reaches your cheeks, lips so red and shiny one could think you have a dark shade of lip gloss on. He feels a wave of satisfaction wash over him, knowing that it’s all him; that it’s his spit covering your lips, that your skin is covered in the afterglow of the orgasms he just fucked out of you.  

“Going shy on me again?” He teases with a raise of his eyebrows, hand playfully squeezing the flesh of your thigh, before he shuffles upwards, lying next to you on his front, arm lazily draping over your middle as he tries to regulate his breathing.  

“What if I closely stared at your dick like I was examining it?” You joke, absentmindedly scratching up and down his arm. He allows his eyes to shut, the relaxing motions of your fingers causing drowsiness to take over him as he shuffles closer to you, seeking more of your warmth. 

“Go ahead, I got a pretty good dick.” He mumbles sleepily against your upper arm. You whack him lightly but that still startles him in his woozy state.  

“Can you bring me something to clean up with?” You cringe as you rub your thighs together in discomfort and he shoots up from the bed quickly, feeling bad for neglecting you. He so easily sunk into the comfort of your warmth and that scares him a little. This is just sex, right? Nothing too deep. Just sex between two people who were having a shitty night and decided to make it better. Just incredible, mind-blowing sex with the girl he tutors twice a week for extra credit. Right?  

The act of aftercare is normally something he indulges in to subtly get rid of the other person. Never intimate, just transactional. In this case, kicking you out hasn’t even crossed his mind. He realises that he wouldn’t mind if you spent the entire night or at least just stayed a little longer. But surely that’s owed to the fact that he knows you in a way. You’re not just a random girl he met and decided to fuck and chuck. You’re friends. Right? 

“Shit, yeah, one sec.” He slips out of bed and rushes to his ensuite bathroom, catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He looks wrecked; sweat glistening on his skin, lips swollen, the hickey on his neck visible already, dick still shiny with slick and cum. He splashes some cold water on his face and neck, allowing the cooling feeling to wake him up before cleaning himself up.  

When he re-enters the room, you’re on your side in foetal position, very clearly asleep and he can’t help the quiet chuckle that leaves him. He carefully rolls you onto your back again and you hum contentedly as he slowly drags the warm damp towel between your legs, cleaning your folds and inner thighs as gently as possible. He feels guilty when he shakes you lightly, waking you up, but he knows you’ll thank him tomorrow. 

“You gotta pee first, then we can sleep.” He whispers, careful not to pull you out of your slumber completely.  

“I um- I can go home,” You mumble, still half-asleep, clearly dreading the effort. Silly. 

“How about just the bathroom, hm?” He scoops you up bridal style again, exactly like he did before, only now you’re completely naked and your head buries in his neck, nuzzling sleepily. “I’ll drive you home tomorrow.” He reassures you and smiles when he feels your arms tighten around his neck.  

“You’re actually a sweet guy, aren’t you, Jen?” You mumble dazedly against his skin and he carefully sets you down on the toilet seat.  

“Always the tone of surprise.” He teases as he combs your hair out of your face and behind your ears. “Do your thing. I’ll be back in a sec.”  

He heads back into his room, picking up your clothes off the floor, folding them neatly on his chair before rifling through his drawers for a comfy t-shirt for you to wear. He hears the faint trickle from the bathroom and can’t help but laugh quietly. A small routine, small domesticity — nothing like him, yet it feels… right. He grabs his phone, sending Renjun three quick texts, hoping his friend is not too drunk to respond.  

Jeno: can you bring me a glass of water pls 

Jeno: in my room  

Jeno: knock.  

RJ: on it 

RJ: you ok? 

Jeno: yeh all good 

“I’m done.” Your voice floats from the bathroom, followed by a flush as he puts a clean pair of boxers on before rushing to come get you.  

“Hey, lazy bum.” He enters to find you perched exactly where he left you, elbows on your knees. “Did you wipe, or do you want me to do that for you too?” He teases and you whine sleepily, face buried in your hands.  

“I did. I promise.”  

“Good. Now arms up.” You comply without a question, and he carefully slips the t-shirt on you, warmth spreading in his chest when you sigh at the comfort of cotton, hugging your arms to yourself. You blink up at him, looking soft as ever as you make grabby hands, and his insides almost melt at the cuteness.  

Why does he feel this sudden urge to coddle you? Sure, Jeno likes looking after his friends, making sure they’re happy and healthy, but this is different. In all his sexual encounters, he’s always maintained boundaries — never lent clothes, never ensured a girl didn’t get a UTI, never carried them around. 

With you, he finds that he’s already broken most of those boundaries in one single night. And he doesn’t know why. 

He carries you back to the bed, only this time you cling onto him like a koala bear, arms and legs wrapped around him in a tight hug. He puts you down gently, tucks you in with the duvet, smoothing it over you, making sure you’re comfortable. A knock on the door makes you blink in question. 

“It’s just my housemate.” He reassures before getting up to crack the door open.  

“Here you go, sir.” Renjun presents him with a pint of water and Jeno gratefully accepts it with a smile.  

“Thanks.” He goes to shut the door again, but Renjun quickly stops him.  

“Dude, what’s going on?” A worrisome expression on his face. 

“Nothing. I’m just- I'm not alone.” Jeno points his thumb behind him, without really allowing Renjun to look inside his room. 

“Oh.” Renjun almost looks surprised, an inquisitive look taking over his face which makes Jeno feel scrutinised. His friends know him well enough to know that he doesn’t just hide girls in his room.  

“I’ll explain tomorrow.” He assures his friend, silently implying that he can’t elaborate right now. Thankfully Renjun catches on quick and turns to leave after giving him a thumbs up. Jeno doesn’t fail to give him a fond smile for respecting his privacy. It’s one of the things he loves the most about that boy; he doesn’t hover, unless he’s needed.  

Jeno takes a couple of gulps before placing the glass of water on the nightstand next to you. Your eyes are closed again and when he quietly joins you under the covers, he feels you shift next to him. He checks if your eyes are still closed and when he confirms they are, he turns off the bedside lamp, allowing the darkness to engulf both of you.  

He’s lying on his back; arm folded under his head as he contemplates the choices he’s made tonight. Your stable breathing calms him in a way, and he finds himself trying to match your rhythm. When your hand brushes against his arm, fingers curling around just above his elbow, he freezes slightly, savouring the small contact. 

“Jen?” You whisper, as if checking he’s still there with you.  

“Hm?”  

“I don’t want things to be weird.” Fuck.  

“They won’t be.” He turns toward you, voice soft, though the darkness obscures your features. 

“How do you know that?” You’re still whispering and he doesn’t know why, since you’re the only two people in the room. He matches your tone anyway.  

“I mean...” His words falter briefly as your grip tightens. “Things don’t have to be weird, right?” Your fingers loosen, but they remain there and Jeno has trouble breathing. It’s not that deep, he thinks to himself.  

“Right.” You’re not convinced; he can tell. And neither is he.  

“You’re overthinking.” No shit, Sherlock.  

Your sigh lands on his shoulder, warm and heavy. He senses you closer than he expected. “And you’re not?” 

It’s his turn to let out a sigh this time.  

“Right.” Your tone cools, as though distancing yourself slightly. Your hand remains, a tether. 

“I don’t know what to tell you, Y/N.” He sounds defeated and he wishes he could give you the reassurance you’re looking for. He can’t though. Not without lying.  

“Do you want me to leave?” Your question takes him aback. 

“What? No, that’s not what I’m saying, Y/N.” He rubs a hand over his face in exasperation.  

“Stop saying my name like that.” Your voice not a whisper anymore and that does something to his head.  

“Like what?” He provokes, tone harsher than intended.  

“Like I’m a problem you can’t be bothered to deal with.” Your words pull him under, and he pauses to recollect his thoughts. He doesn’t want to argue, but it seems you do and Jeno is confused. Did he just imagine the last hour? 

He rolls on his side to face you, and you let your hand fall from his arm. He feels the absence. “Can we please talk about this tomorrow? With clear heads?” 

You shuffle closer and his heart thuds a little faster, your knee bumping into his accidentally. “Okay.” You whisper after you’ve settled into a more comfortable position, but for some reason unbeknownst to him, Jeno senses a hesitancy in your movements. 

“You can move closer.” He smiles fondly and relief floods him when your arm wraps around his waist. He draws you in, fingers stroking the nape of your neck, tucking your head under his chin. “If you wanted to cuddle, you could’ve just said.”  

“Shh.” You scold, earning a tiny laugh from him.  

“You’re funny.” He whispers into your hair, nails softly scratching your scalp, making you shudder.  

“You’re not.” You retort, half-mumbled, and he snorts. His distress has somewhat dissolved, however the tension and confusion linger and Jeno prays that a goodnight’s sleep will fix whatever it is that broke between you and him tonight.   

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘ 

Jeno gets woken up by an involuntary twitch of his own body and when he slowly cracks his eyes open, he’s reminded that he once again forgot to roll his blinds down, allowing the morning sunlight to invade his room.  

He attempts to get into a more comfortable position, the fruity scent you carry drifts over him, and he relaxes — you’re still here, safe and real, reminding him that last night wasn’t just a fraction of his imagination. 

You’re clinging onto him; cheek squished against his chest and he’s pretty sure you’re drooling on him. He feels a laugh bubbling in his chest, but he holds it in, not wanting to wake you yet.  

The position you’re both in is slightly different to the one Jeno remembers falling asleep in. You’re using him as your pillow, your leg comfortably draped over his crotch, arm hugging his middle as though he’s your favourite teddy bear and he’s convinced that you must own one with the way you cling onto him like it’s a habit. 

He raises his sprawled arm to wrap it around you and the second his hand finds your lower back, he assumes the shirt he put on you last night must have ridden up. His fingers splay just above your ass and he’s instantly reminded of your naked bottom half. He vividly remembers picking up your underwear off the floor last night, along with the rest of your clothes.  

The thought of your nakedness brings him back to last night. Back to what you two did and how good you looked on top of him. And under him. And on his floor. His mind drifts from your smooth skin to the way you kissed him, to the way you took everything he gave you like you were made for it, like you craved it. He knows he shouldn’t. Especially when you’re soundly asleep in his arms, but Jeno has to suppress a groan at the thought of your warm and wet p- 

Your sleepy hum pulls him back to reality and he mentally presses pause on the daydreaming session, but your bent knee nudging against his half hard dick doesn’t make things easy for him. Stupid morning wood, he thinks, as if his dirty mind didn’t just cause this.  

He keeps his eyes shut, trying to think of dead puppies or his gran and it seems to be working, until your body moves, your face nuzzling in his neck, knee dragging over his crotch. The long sigh you let out against his skin, causes goosebumps to raise and he mentally curses.  

Redirecting his focus to your comfort, he allows his knuckles to trace gentle circles along your spine, and he smiles when you shudder slightly, the little tremble of your body sparking a sense of delight within him.  

“You awake?” You mumble in his neck, the tiny movement of your lips barely even there, but still enough to tickle him.   

“Just about.” His voice comes out raspy, vocal cords still half asleep, causing him to clear his throat. He subtly wiggles his hips a little further down the mattress to escape the pressure of your knee and when you move with him, clinging onto him with a whine, he can’t help but use his free hand to steady you, forcing your leg further up his torso to ease the pressure.  

“Sorry.” You whisper into his skin. “Are you uncomfortable?”  

“No.” He reassuringly squeezes your thigh, thumb gingerly caressing the surface. “You?” 

“No. Surprisingly.” If his eyes were open, Jeno would have rolled them in annoyance.  

“Yeah, cause you’re always so uncomfortable around me.” His tone full of sarcasm, but he can’t help it. If you’re going to give him attitude, you’re going to get it back. Especially this early in the day when he’s slightly hungover and has not had his morning coffee.  

“Grow up. You know what I mean.” Your humourless words contrast the way your fingers softly trace the line of his collarbone, a quiet familiarity in the gesture. 

“You thought it would be awkward?”  

“Didn’t you?” Your head moves, nose rubbing against his jaw, and he knows you’re looking at him. He adamantly keeps his eyes closed.  

“What, just cause we fucked?” The light slap he receives on his chest makes him chuckle. He’s always enjoyed getting under your skin, but for some reason, now that you’re half naked in his bed, it’s even more rewarding. “It would have been awkward only if the sex was bad.”  

You keep quiet and Jeno gives into the urge to turn his head and look at you, blinking his eyes a few times, adjusting to the sunlight. He raises his eyebrows expectantly as he dips his hand under your loose shirt, fingertips light as air, traveling up and down your spine slowly.  

“Is this you indirectly asking if I liked it or not?” Your eyebrows raise in response, mirroring his expression.  

“No, I already know you liked it. Just wanna know if it altered your brain chemistry.” He smirks at the way you roll your eyes, and if he didn’t know you to a certain extent, Jeno would really think you’re annoyed, but he recognises your usual façade.  

“Mind-blowing sex isn’t the answer to everything Lee Jeno.” Your hand engulfs his jaw, fingers squishing his cheeks and shaking his face from side to side gently. “I’m one of the very few female friends you have and you’ve already stuck your penis in me. Raw.”  

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but didn’t you very blatantly ask me to fuck you?” His pointed look gets a surrendering smile out of you, hand now settling on the side of his neck. He’s not even fazed by your proximity; noses almost touching, bodies flush against each other like you’ve done this a million times. 

“You stuck you tongue down my throat and then fingered me like nobody’s business. I’m only human.” Your bluntness makes him grin. 

“So, what’s the problem? We both wanted it, no?” He rolls to face you fully, leg fitting naturally between yours, touch grounding yet intimate. He tries his hardest to keep his attention on you, but the whimper you let out shows him you’re just as affected, and his hand has somehow fallen on your ass.  

“Why did you want it?” The question catches him off guard; your inquisitive eyes making his heart stutter.  

“I was horny. And lonely. And you looked good. I mean...You always look good, I just-” He takes a breath to compose himself. Since when does he have trouble expressing himself in front of a woman?  

“Relax, it’s not a test, I’m just genuinely curious.” Your chuckle and your fingers lightly pushing his fringe out of the way help him compose his chaotic brain just a little.  

“I dunno. I just wanted you.” He settles for honesty and if that comes to bite him in the ass later, then so be it. “That too shallow for you?” 

“No.” Your eyes travel around his face as you’re in deep thought and Jeno feels impatience creeping up on him.  

“But?” He challenges, knowing it can’t be that simple.  

“But, I don’t know if I can be normal around you now.” You purse your lips as you brush his bottom one with your thumb and he stops breathing for a second, his heart rate increasing significantly. “I don’t really do casual sex.” 

He likes your honesty. 

“When have you ever been normal around me, Y/N?” His light-hearted comment earns him a bashful smile from you, your thumb now tracing his cheekbone as he playfully gropes the part where your thigh connects to your ass. “Look, I’m not expecting anything. If you’re uncomfortable, we can go back to normal. You get your tutoring. I get my extra credit.” 

“And you’d be happy with that?” Good question.  

“I’m a big boy. If that’s what you want, then that’s what you want.” He offers a way out, but part of him hopes you don’t take it. 

“What if I don’t know what I want?” Your eyes close, a long sigh escaping through your nose. He wants nothing more than to make it easier for you. 

He smiles, conflicted. 

“Then… I dunno. I guess we figure it out.” He says it casual, like it’s nothing — but his stomach twists anyway. 

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘ 

The drive back to yours is quiet. Not uncomfortable, but definitely unusual. Neither you nor Jeno are usually this quiet around each other but now your thoughts are too loud and so are your doubts.  

You barely register the car coming to a stop, having completely spaced out. It’s Jeno’s voice that brings you back to reality.  

“Is here fine?”  

“Hm? Yeah. Here’s great. Thanks for the lift.” His eyes are already on you when you look over at him, expectant and unsure. The corner of his mouth lifts subtly, a small smile forming as a response to your gratitude. 

“I’ll see you Tuesday?” The tapping of his fingers against the wheel sounds louder that it should.  

“Yeah. Tuesday.” 

“Cool.” 

“Cool.” You repeat dumbly, not sure how to approach your next words.  

“Are y-” 

“This shouldn’t happen again.” You blurt out and the tapping stops, his eyebrows raising slightly, but other than that, he remains calm.  

“Alright.” He nods understandingly. “It won’t.” The warmth and playfulness his voice held until this morning, long gone.  

“I’m sorry.”  

“What for? You didn’t do anything wrong.” He shrugs, his fake nonchalance sitting heavy in your stomach.  

“I dunno. I feel like-” 

“Y/N.” His hand finds your shoulder, hold grounding. “We’re good. Honest.” He turns in his seat, facing you better. “People have sex all the time. It’s not that deep.” He squeezes your shoulder once, barely there but you still feel it as his neutral smile does very little to convince you. Simply because it doesn’t reach his eyes. You hate this unfamiliar side of him.  

“It’s fine if you don’t wanna tutor me anymore.” 

“I do.” There’s no hesitation in his voice, touch reassuring. 

“You sure?” 

“I am. As long as you are.” Another subtle squeeze, now on your upper arm, his hand having slid down. “Plus...I really need the extra credit.” His playfulness is back, and you can’t hold back the sheepish smile that takes over your face.  

“Okay then.” You exhale, somewhat relieved.  

“Okay then.” He repeats, light-heartedly, the warm smile now reaching his eyes as his warm hand slides further down your arm before he completely retracts. The gesture should soothe you, but it somehow unsettles you.  

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘ 

Next time you see him is indeed Tuesday. Your regular first session of the week. And it’s all fine. It’s all normal. It’s all good.  

Until it isn’t.  

Until you see a text pop up on his screen. Yuna.  

We still on for tonight? It reads and you quickly avert your eyes back on the histogram displayed on your laptop screen. Something about a survey, a sample and frequencies. It’s all a mess now. Who the fuck is Yuna? And why is she texting him? What about tonight?  

You shouldn’t care. You really shouldn’t. But then he’s quickly typing a response you can’t see and he places his phone face down. Like it never happened.  

“What’d you get?” He interrupts your ridiculous thoughts as he leans over your shoulder to take a look at the scribbles on your notepad. “Correct formula. Wrong result.” 

“What? Why?” You’re more annoyed than you should be. His raised eyebrows betray his shock at your abrupt tone.  

“You’re asking me why you can’t count?” His smirk is worth slapping off. “Check your total number of observations again.” He taps his pen on the letter n and when you count again, you realise it’s 6 instead of 5. Great. You really can’t count.  

“That’s just a silly mistake.” 

“Which will cost you a whole lot of marks.” He does this thing where he twirls the pen between his index and middle finger, and it shouldn’t be that attractive. “You see, it’s not a matter of logic with you. You just need to concentrate.” He’s enjoying this too much. His smile audible.  

“I am concentrated.” You state stubbornly.  

“Concentrate better.”  

“Fuck off.”  

His lack of response causes you to look at him. His neutral eyes and pursed lips tell you he’s not going to entertain whatever argument you’re trying to start and that agitates you even more. So does his stupid cologne. And the fact that he’s so close still. His forearm is now resting on your notepad and all you can think of is how prettily it flexed when it was between your thighs.  

“Sorry.” You sigh, slumping back into your chair, looking around the quiet café. You need air and all you keep getting is his scent. It’s not fair.  

“Am I allowed to ask?” His tone is tentative, but present.  

“Ask what?”  

“What’s bothering you.” He starts going over what you’ve written on your notepad with his pen, overlining letters and numbers, following every curve. You glance at his profile for a moment and you’re thankful he’s now focused on the page in front of you.  

“Nothing is bothering me.” You cross your arms over your chest defensively.  

“Lie better.” The corner of his lips twitches as he keeps outlining, still not looking at you. Smug bastard.  

“Is it me?” He side-eyes you for a split second, gaze meeting yours before dropping back down to the mistaken 5 you wrote down earlier. It’s like an insult. 

“That’s awfully egotistical of you.” You challenge, making him struggle to hold back his smile. “What makes you think that?” 

He shrugs. “Just a hunch.”  

You lean over, elbow on the table, chin resting on your palm, closer now. “Not everything is about you, Jeno.” You say as calmly as possible.  

His pen comes to a halt. Eyes catching yours without backing down now.  

“As if you don’t think about me 24/7.” It’s a joke, but it’s not.  

“Is that what you tell yourself?” You shouldn’t give into it. Into his flirting. But he makes it almost impossible to behave.  

“Is it bad if I do?”  

“Not bad. You’re just wrong.”  

“Like your calculations.”  

“What?”  

“Solve it again. No calculator. Not like it helped you the first time anyway.” He leans back in his chair with an unbothered expression, pen dropping dismissively on your notepad as he resembles your stance, arms crossing over his buff chest. “Go on, I don’t have all day.” He points his chin to the page smugly. Did he just...play you? 

“Prick.”  

“Mhm.” 

Is this what it’s going to be like from now on? If so, then you’re astronomically fucked.  

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘ 

Two weeks go by. Four tutoring sessions with Jeno — all pure torture. But somehow, focusing on the calculations and formulas actually pays off. You don’t ask as many questions anymore, you get the correct results most of the time, and you even score 76% on the mock test Jeno printed out for you. 

A glimmer of surprise flashes across his face when he finishes grading, but it quickly softens into something pleased. Proud, almost.  

“Nice one,” he says, head bobbing in approval. “Let’s get to 80 next time.” 

You like that look on him. Like that he’s proud of you. You wish you could see it more often. 

But the wish evaporates the second you lay eyes on him tonight. Regret floods you for giving in to Mark’s pleas to come to this stupid party. As if the man needs a wingman — he always does fine on his own. And so does Jeno, by the looks of it. But you already knew that. So why does your chest tighten when you see a girl standing between his spread legs, his casual perch on the kitchen counter, plastic cup in one hand, the other tucked in his hoodie pocket? 

He’s not touching her, but her hands are on his thighs, and even from behind her head, you see his face clearly. Smirking, dark eyes checking her out as he sips his drink. There’s no trace of innocence in the way he’s looking at her. It’s the same way he looked at you that night in his room. 

You know you’re out of bounds. Yet jealousy gnaws at you, and you hate yourself for it. It shouldn’t affect you. You rejected him — or whatever that was. He should be the one pining, not you. But he’s fine, and here you are, still haunted by how warm and safe his body felt that morning. 

It’s unfair. 

Unfair in every way: the way he doesn’t spare you a glance, the way his eyes are fixed on her, the way he chuckles at whatever she says, the way he looks so good even while flirting with someone else. 

Hood up, fringe falling messily over his eyes. He looks soft but dangerous at the same time. Effortless. Sleeves pushed up, baggy cargos that only he can pull off. He’s hotter than ever — and she’s touching him. Not you. He’s looking at her. Not you. Laughing with her. Not you. Not you. Not you. 

“Dude, you’re staring.” Mark steps in, blocking your view of the kitchen and yanking you out of your trance. You groan, hiding your face in your hands. Maybe you’re being dramatic — but Mark won’t judge. He knows. “That bad, huh?” 

“Shut the fuck up.” You mumble into your palms, relaxing slightly as Mark wraps his arms around your shoulders, burying your face in his chest and lightly swaying you from side to side. 

“Awh c’mon… you’re good.” Mark shakes you playfully, helping your shoulders loosen. “It’s okay to be jealous.” He lowers his voice so only you can hear him. 

“This is not helping you with the babes, I’m sorry.” You wrap your arms around his waist, enjoying the comfort of your friend’s embrace — and you really shouldn’t — but you sneak a glance over his shoulder. Jeno is still there, the girl still perched between his legs, still talking. But his eyes are very clearly on you. Expression neutral, as always, never giving anything away. Yet if you were to guess, he looks conflicted — maybe a little annoyed. 

Fuck this. You refuse to stare, burying your face deeper into Mark’s neck instead. 

“Are you two planning on fucking tonight?” A boyish voice interrupts the moment. Pulling back, you see a boy standing next to you. You recognise him — always with Jeno or some girl you’d assume is his girlfriend. And he’s in your stupid stats class, too. 

“Dude, have some decorum.” Mark protests, keeping one arm around your shoulders, shaking you playfully. “Y/N, this is Haechan. Haechan, this is Y/N.” 

“Hi, Y/N. I’ve heard a lot about you.” Weird, you decide. 

“Umm I don’t think I—” 

“No time for that. Beer pong. Me and my girl versus you two. In or out?” Haechan cuts you off, no hesitation. As much as his energy overwhelms you, a game that involves alcohol sounds like a perfect distraction. 

Mark looks over at you questioningly. 

“In.” 

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘ 

Easy. That’s what beating Haechan and his girlfriend was. Too easy. And you’re currently obliterating Chenle and this boy, Renjun, who you’re pretty sure is Jeno’s housemate. 

You make the last shot. In. Some boys around the table cheer, some point fingers at the losing team, laughing at them. 

“Let’s fucking go!” Mark grabs your shoulders from behind, shaking you and you can’t help but laugh at his dramatics. 

“You just got lucky.” Haechan complains loudly. 

“You can’t get lucky twice.” You point out as you rearrange the cups back to a perfect pyramid shape. 

“You’re just a sore loser, dude.” Mark throws the ping pong ball at the weird boy, sticking his tongue out and Haechan looks like he’s had an epiphany. 

“Maybe you should play against our champions.” He says with a glint of mischief written all over his face. 

“Nah, I’m-” 

“Someone get Jeno and Jaemin.” Haechan interrupts you for the second time tonight and now he’s seriously starting to annoy you. 

“Someone else can take my spot.” You say nonchalantly as you place the last cup at the top of the pyramid. 

“Oh, grow up.” Haechan challenges again. 

“Get off my back. Respectfully.” 

“Didn’t think you’d be boring. Respectfully.” He’s hinting at something you can’t quite decipher, but somehow you know Jeno has something to do with it. 

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?” You raise your voice a few decibels as you step closer to the annoying boy. 

“I’m just saying.” He shrugs, like his words didn’t hold some cryptic meaning. 

“Care to elaborate?” You stand in front of him, arms crossing over your chest expectantly, eyebrow raising and he smirks. As though getting on your nerves is his newfound hobby. Seriously, what is this dude’s problem? 

“Oh, you know, just that you’re a-” 

“Yooo okay, let’s break it off.” Jeno’s voice cuts in before his friend can finish his sentence and suddenly, you’re being dragged away from the scene and the people that have gathered around without you noticing. You try to stand your ground, pulling away from the hand around your elbow and before you can approach smug Haechan again, Jeno stands in front of you. 

“Walk away. Right now. Please.” His expression is unreadable, but he’s definitely not pleased. You can figure that much out. 

“What’s it to you?” You challenge, suspicious of his involvement. 

His eyes close for a second, jaw clenching, as though he’s collecting himself and Haechan’s voice cuts through again. “Yeah, Jen-Jen, what’s it to you?” 

Jeno just steps closer to you, shielding you from his friend’s antics and before you have time to react, he’s dragging you away again. Hand tight around your wrist and you let him. Not before you look back, only to find Haechan wiggling his fingers at you in a playful wave and you can’t help but flip him off. His laugh is loud and if it weren’t for Jeno, the alcohol in your system would have prompted you to start a fight. How can someone be so irritating? 

Once you’re out in the back garden, you force your arm out of Jeno’s hold.  

“Chill.” His instruction makes your blood boil. 

“What the fuck!” You shout loud enough to get some heads turning, interrupting their smoking sessions. Jeno just chuckles, index and thumb pinching the bridge of his nose. “What’s so funny?” You’re quieter now but you make sure to keep the cold tone on. 

“Are you a child?” He asks with an amused smile as he leans his weight against the wall and if you weren’t so pissed off, you’d swoon at how good he looks right now. 

“He started it.” 

“Yeah, well, he’s a child.” Jeno points out like it’s a fact you should be aware of. His hands are in the pockets of his hoodie and you realise how chilly it actually is. 

“I’m assuming he knows me as the slut who slept with his friend just to get over her ex.” You move to lean against the wall next to him and he snorts at your comment. 

“You know I don’t slut shame.” He says casually, his breath visible in the cold air. “Besides, is that what that was?” He’s looking down at his shoes as he kicks some pebbles into the grass. “Rebound sex?” 

“You know it wasn’t.” 

“So, why do you care about what Haechan thinks?” 

“Cause he’s your friend.” 

“He’s also a wind up.” Jeno turns his head to look down at you. “And you let him get to you.” 

“He’s fucking annoying is what he is.” You scan the garden as you rest your hands behind your back, preventing the concrete from digging into your ass. 

“Yeah, he’s for the thick skinned.” He says it with fondness, and it baffles you. “His girlfriend tolerates him just fine, so he must be doing something right.” 

“An unsolvable mystery.” You mumble and Jeno chuckles, though you weren’t really joking. 

There’s a pause. A comfortable silence between you, which in that moment you really appreciate. 

“Didn’t know you were that good at beer pong.” Jeno elbows your side playfully and you almost smile, but then you remember that the only reason you decided to play was to distract yourself from him and the girl who was feeling him up. 

“Surprised you even saw that.” It’s meant to be teasing, light-hearted. It’s anything but that. 

“Why’s that?” His tone is devoid of any playfulness now. 

“You just looked...busy.” You refuse to look at him but you feel his stare on your side profile. You feel hot all of a sudden. Why can’t you just keep your mouth shut? 

“So?” 

“So, nothing. Just an observation.” You try your best to stay calm, but your pulse has increased significantly and you feel like throwing up. Jeno’s scoff is difficult to ignore. 

“I don’t get you, Y/N.” You’re still adamantly looking anywhere else but at him, but you can imagine his expression. He’s definitely doing that thing he does with his eyebrows when he’s confused. The one that makes him look like a puppy. And you hate yourself. “Why do you care?” 

“I don’t.” You defend quickly. 

“Right.” 

“What do you want from me, Jeno?” You close your eyes in exasperation. 

“No. What do you want?” He moves to stand in front of you now, giving you no option but to look at him. “You fucking rejected me. You don’t get to be jealous. So why am in the wrong here?” 

God, you’re such an idiot. 

“What exactly did I reject?” 

“What?” Genuine confusion painted all over his face. 

“What did you expect? That we’d keep fucking and live happily ever after? I’m sorry, I don’t do that shit. I can’t.” Words leave before thought; regret floods instantly. You expect him to argue back, to shout, to react, but his next words hurt you even more. 

“Yeah, no, I’m not doing this.” He shakes his head in disbelief, a bitter laugh escaping. 

“Not doing what?” 

“I’m not gonna argue with you, when you’ve already come to your conclusions.” 

“So, I’m wrong then? Did you want a relationship with me? Did you wanna take me to bruch? Buy me flowers? Introduce me to your parents?” Silence. “You said it yourself. You were horny and I happened to be there. A girl doesn’t give you what you want and you act like your heart is broken. Boo-hoo, wah-wah, grow the fuck up.” 

For the first time in the four months you’ve known the boy in front of you, his face is not stoic. He looks enraged, disgusted even. “You’re a fucking joke, Y/N.” 

You don’t even know what can beat that. He’s right. 

He steps closer and you wish you weren’t backed up against the wall. He’s too close. “I don’t know who fucking hurt you, and I don’t give a shit quite frankly. What I do know is I’m not a punching bag and I don’t like games.” 

“I’m not playing a game.” 

“No?” His head tilts. 

“No.” Your voice comes out weak. He’s suffocating you and you can feel the tears welling up in your eyes. Your stomach heavy. 

“You say you don’t want me. Then you flirt with me every chance you get. You get moody whenever a girl’s name pops up on my phone. You hate when my attention isn’t on you. You get jealous. You make petty comments. You can’t even look at me right now. Should I go on?” 

Are you really that obvious? If you had balls, he’d have you by them. 

“I might fuck around, but at least I’m honest about what I want.” His index and middle finger poke you on the chest, right in the middle and he might as well carve your heart out at this point. “You’re the game player here. Not me.” He says quietly, but the words echo loudly in your head. 

You blink and there’s wetness dripping down your cheek and the only thing you can do is nod, eyes avoiding his again, the stamp on his hoodie a lot more interesting, but blurry as another tear escapes. It’s not sadness. It’s anger. You’re angry with yourself mostly, but also him. Because he confuses you. Because he makes you feel vulnerable. Because he makes your heart do things it shouldn’t. And he scares you. So much. The way he grounds you scares you. The way he always talks sense scares you. The way he understands you scares you. The way he sees you...it scares you. 

“Why are you crying?” There’s no malice laced with his words, just worry. A genuine question. Whispered. 

“I wanna go home.” If misery could be pictured, it would be you. You sound like a spoilt child that didn’t get their favourite toy on Christmas day. 

“Okay.” He doesn’t move and neither do you. You can feel his eyes on your face and you can’t help but look into them when his thumb wipes the tears off your cheek. His palm feels warm on your cold skin, soothing your heart and you wish you could bury your whole being in it. You just hide your face in it for now. 

“I don’t like you when you’re mean.” You sniffle a little, half aware that he’s stepped closer now. His familiar clean scent engulfs you and you sigh in contentment. Your hands instinctively grab onto each side of his hoodie pocket and when you look up at him, you can tell he’s trying to fight off a smile. His features are on the softer side again, puppy-like. The fairy lights reflect on his eyes, illuminating tiny little star-like specks. 

“Don’t make me act mean then.” His fingers brush a strand of hair behind your ear. Your pride wants you to push him away, but for some reason you let him touch you. You also let your forehead rest on his sternum, and you let his arms wrap around your shoulders, hugging you into him, into his warmth. The embrace is very similar to the one Mark gave you earlier, but so different in so many ways. It calms you like no other hug ever could. Like no one could ever compare. And maybe no one can. 

“Are you still mad?” Your question is muffled by the fabric of his jumper, cheek squished against his chest, eyes closed as you bask in the proximity. 

“Mhm.” He answers a little too quickly for your liking, but his arms tighten a little more around you and you can’t fight off the tiny smile that threatens to take over your face. 

“Do you still like me?” You feel him tense just then and your arms wrap around his middle in fear of him pulling away. 

“I mean...” You feel his chest move as he exhales loudly, his chin rests on your head. “I don’t hate you.” 

“Good.” 

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘ 

It’s two days later that you decide to face the problem that is Lee Jeno. A normal late Sunday afternoon. You’ve done your shopping for the week, gone over some lecture notes, caught up on all your uni emails, procrastinated, even gone on a run to convince yourself that you didn’t just sit around all day. You send the text before you can talk yourself out of it, and when 15 minutes go by without a response, you start to regret it. 

Are you busy tonight? 

The screen laughs in your face each time you check your phone and see no new notification. Why did you decide to act brave tonight? Why are you so stupid? Of course he’s busy. He’s probably in bed with that Yuna girl, altering her brain chemistry like he did yours. You wonder if he cuddles all the girls he sleeps with like he cuddled you. All careful and possessive. 

You’re about to change into your pyjamas when you hear it. 

Ding. 

Jeno: just got back from the gym  Jeno: need a shower and then i can be free  Jeno: how come? 

Oh god. Oh god. Oh god. Do you reply now, or should you give it some time? Make him wait like he made you wait? NO. No games. He said it himself. 

You: come to mine?  You: gigi and mark are out  You: we can talk  You: you want  You: *if 

Your fingers are shaking so much you forgo typing a whole word and you can only hope he’s not laughing at you when you send the correction. Five long minutes go by before he replies again. 

Jeno: i want  Jeno: gimme 30 mins 

You snort at the text mocking your typo. Of course he won’t pass an opportunity to tease you. He definitely knows you’re shitting bricks. 

You react with a thumbs up before you start pacing around your apartment, looking for things to do until he arrives. 

First you wash up the few forgotten mugs in the kitchen sink. Then you reorganise the cereal boxes that Giselle and Mark always mess up. 

He texts you a simple omw when you’re contemplating whether you should put on jeans or keep your joggers on. You decide on the latter. No need to try hard. 

He knocks when you’ve just finished brushing your teeth for the second consecutive time, which you’re starting to regret because your gums sting now. 

You take a deep breath before opening the door and when you do, he’s standing right there, hands in his pockets, looking effortlessly cool as ever. His signature look. Attire matches yours: big hoodie and baggy joggers, emitting comfort and softness. 

His eyes scan you like yours scan him. Head to toe. “Cute socks.” He nods in approval and when you look down at your feet, you realise you’re wearing fuzzy Christmas socks with little mistletoes on them. Great. “Swear Christmas was like a month ago.” 

“They’re warm.” You step aside to let him in, and he quickly takes his shoes and jacket off by the door before trailing toward the living room area. You observe him as he carefully places his thick jacket on the back of the sofa. He inspects the room like he’s never been in your apartment before. It feels oddly domestic when he’s not here for a tutoring session. 

You set your phone on silent and quickly notice the time. Apart from the fact that he’s five minutes early, it dawns on you that it’s dinner time. 

“You hungry?” The words slip before you can stop them, and he swiftly turns around to look at you. You’re still leaning against the door as he plops down on the sofa armrest. 

“I could eat.” He shrugs with a lopsided smile. He looks so boyfriend-coded like this. So warm and soft. Just lounging around your living room. “Unless you’re cooking.” His eyes are full of mischief, smile cheeky. 

“I mean, I was thinking of ordering, but you can starve if you’re gonna insult me in my own home.” 

He ends up placing the order. Something about a deal on his Deliveroo, but you know he just didn’t want you paying. Just like when he never lets you pay for your coffee but complains when you occasionally pay for his. 

He’s munching on a dumpling when you’ve run out of things to talk about. You’ve covered the hangover you were both nursing the day before, his gym session and how he got hit on by a guy, your running session and how you got drenched by the rain, the stats chapter you’ll be entering next week, the fact that you both have a seminar tomorrow morning, the fact that you might skip. You talk about anything and everything but what you both really want to talk about. 

“Did you stay long on Friday after I left?” You ask casually as you blow on your spring roll to help cool it down. 

He shakes his head. “Nah. You left at the right time. It was dead after.” He drops his chopsticks on his plate and grabs a napkin for his hands. 

“What about the girl you were with?” It slips. But at least it doesn’t sound malicious. Your eyes meet for half a second and you almost laugh at the side-eye he gives you. 

“Still not over that?” He leans back on the sofa, getting more comfortable, legs spreading a little as he sips on his water. 

“It’s just a question. Don’t deep it.” You take a sip of your own water before turning your body completely toward him, legs criss-crossing, arm resting on the back of the sofa. 

He pulls his hood up as he slides a little further down the cushions, almost as though you’ve put him on the spot and he’s trying to hide. You find it amusing. “Nothing happened if that’s what you’re asking.” No glance toward you still; he’s too busy trying to stabilize the half-empty water bottle on his stomach and only when he fails for the third time does he look at you. 

“Why?” 

He shrugs. “Wasn’t really my type.” 

You nod. “Didn’t realize you had one of those.” You twirl one of your rings with your thumb. You feel nervous suddenly but choose to push your sarcasm forward. 

He blinks, unamused. “Is this what you wanted to talk about?” 

“I judged you.” You say quickly, refusing to back down now. His eyebrows tense a little, emitting confusion for just a second. “And I’m sorry.” You chew on the inside of your cheek as you wait for a response. 

He nods just once before averting his attention to the bottle again. “You’re not the first or the last person to do that.” 

“I have trouble seeing the good in people.” You avert your eyes to the loose thread on your sleeve. It’s difficult staying afloat when he looks at you the way he always does. Like you’re easy to read. 

“Yeah, I gathered that.” You detect a smile in his tone and you hate that you don’t have to see it to know it’s there. You expect him to ask why. He doesn’t; you sense his contemplative eyes on you still. A beat of silence passes and you find yourself trapped in it, struggling to utter more words. He helps with the worst possible question. “Why did you sleep with me, Y/N?” 

“Don’t say it like that.” You let out a humourless laugh. 

“Like what?” There’s expectancy in his voice. His restraint is slowly breaking. 

“Like I lured you in or something.” You pull the loose thread harder. He lets out a short laugh. It sounds accidental. 

“Just answer the question.” He taps on the plastic bottle as if to get your attention. “And look at me.” His eyebrows lift momentarily when you do, like a greeting. The situation seems awfully comical—or maybe it’s the fact that you struggle to stay serious in serious situations. He mirrors your barely-there smile regardless. 

“There’s not just a single reason.” You can’t be more honest than that. 

“Okay, so name three.” He holds his thumb, index, and middle finger up, wiggling them as he waits for you to start listing. “Go on.” He nods when he senses your hesitation. 

You sigh dramatically as you look around the room, like the answers are hidden in the furniture. “I guess you’re attractive.” 

“That doesn’t count. I want profound stuff.” 

You scoff. “Since when?” You raise an eyebrow and his pointed look makes you back down, his three fingers waving slightly, demanding. 

“You made me feel comfortable.” 

Middle finger down. 

“I was intrigued.” 

Pointer down. He nods again when you pause for too long. It takes everything not to look down, but you don’t. 

“Felt right.” 

“And now it doesn’t?” He’s quick. No hesitation. No whys and hows. He sits up and turns to look at you properly, mirroring your position. One arm drapes over the back of the sofa while the other holds onto the water bottle still, one leg folded under him, the other hanging off the sofa. You like that he’s comfortable in your vicinity; it calms the turmoil inside you. 

“It does. It’s just confusing.” You admit. His eyes look more alive now. 

“What’s so confusing? People fancy each other. They fuck. They either make it a thing or they don’t.” For someone who normally reads you in no time, he seems to be struggling now. 

“Jen, this isn’t stats. It’s not that simple.” You smile fondly at his confusion. “Besides, what exactly is this thing we could make it into?” You can almost see the gears spinning in his head. This, he doesn’t seem to have an answer for. 

“This might sound wild, but I happen to know what dating is.” His widened eyes evoke a laugh out of you. Maybe he did have an answer after all. 

“You wanna date me.” You deliver the question in deadpan tone. 

He tilts his head a little. “Would that be so terrible?” 

You purse your lips in thought. Would it? “Do you understand what that entails?” God, you sound so condescending. Like a middle-aged person. 

“God forbid we go somewhere other than a café and talk about something other than stats.” The sarcasm in his voice makes you roll your eyes. Mostly because it makes him sound hot. You almost flinch when he shuffles closer, his knee touching yours. He drops the bottle he’s been fiddling with somewhere behind him and his fingers find yours in a heartbeat. Like he didn’t even think about it. Like it’s reflex. 

“That’s not what I mean.” You know he knows, but you say it anyway. Your eyes find your hand in his, thumb stroking your knuckles gently before gliding over a ring, finding a new toy to fiddle with. 

“I’ll be good to you.” You bring your gaze to his face. He looks almost shy, eyes on your hands and if the lighting were stronger, you might have been able to spot the blush on his cheeks better. You imagine it for now. “I don’t expect you to trust me from the get-go.” He chews on his bottom lip for a second. “But maybe— you know—maybe eventually...” He looks up, scanning your face for a reaction, which you try tremendously hard not to give because you just happen to love a pathetic man. He’s unsure, but he’s trying. You’ll give him that. 

“Ask me properly.” You squeeze his fingers once and he has the cutest look of hope on his face. 

“You’re going on a date with me.” 

“I said ask—” 

“I’m telling you.” He tugs on your arm playfully and you can’t help but gleam at his unusually playful antics. 

“Alright.” 

“Cool.” 

“Now get out of my house.” 

“Sorry?” Genuine surprise takes over his features; eyebrows furrowed to the maximum, eyes wide. 

“You’re not staying the night.” You pat his thigh as you get up and start picking up the takeout boxes lying scattered on your coffee table. 

“Why not?” He sounds almost offended. You laugh quietly as you walk into the kitchen. 

“You’re just not.” He hasn’t moved from his spot on the sofa when you look back at him. 

“I won’t try anything.” 

Your pointed look forces the corners of his mouth to curl into a mischievous smile. “I’ll just cuddle you.” 

“Next joke.” 

“You really think I’m not capable of keeping it in my pants?” You don’t even bother responding to his silly question. 

When you approach him again, you stand in front of him and with the way he looks up at you, it takes a lot to not just get on your knees for him. 

“It’s not you I’m worried about.” You admit, hinting at something he catches on quickly, his pleased smile difficult to miss. 

He moves closer, warm hands engulfing the backs of your knees, his hood dropping as he cranes his neck to gaze up at you with pretty eyes. He looks almost innocent like this. So handsome. “At least give me a kiss.” 

Your hands come to rest on his shoulders, looking for support as he pulls you closer, between his spread legs. This screams anything but innocent, and the way he nuzzles his face against your tummy has your breath hitching. You bury a hand in his hair, nails lightly scratching as he breathes you in. 

“Just one, yeah?” Your quiet offer makes him look up again, eyes finding yours in an instant, chin resting on your lower abdomen. Who knew Lee Jeno could look so submissive and sexy at the same time. 

“Just one. And I’ll fuck off before you know it.” You should tease him. Make him beg. But he looks too good for that. Too insatiable. And you can always make him beg another day. 

You do exactly what you said you wouldn’t do. You get on your knees, between his spread ones, and now it’s you that has to look up at him. Your hands find his strong thighs and the thought that enters your mind isn’t a pleasant one. Envy flickers for a moment, remembering the girl from two nights ago, standing between his legs in a very similar position. But then you see how he looks at you and envy becomes want. He didn’t look at her like that, nowhere near. 

His hands fall on top of yours before trailing up your arms and you drag your knees across the carpet to get closer. Your noses touch when his palms engulf each side of your neck, thumbs tracing your jawline, fingers reaching your nape, his touch making your knees feel weak as your heart beats faster, and you’re worried he can feel it through your pulse points. 

“You know,” His top lip grazes your bottom one lightly and you can’t help but bite onto the spot he touched. “You’re doing a bit too much for just one kiss.” 

“You either want it, or you don’t.” You match his low tone; afraid you’ll break the trance you both seem to be in, your fingers lightly squeezing his thigh muscles in encouragement. 

You see his smirk and then you don’t. Your eyes drop shut the second his mouth is on yours, claiming. His palms feel warm on your cheeks, his lips soft on yours but demanding, thighs tensing under your wandering hands, and you feel dizzy as you let him tilt your head as he pleases, let his tongue in your mouth, let him taste you. It’s wet and it’s loud and it’s hot, the neurons in your brain already useless. 

You really should pull away, not give in to him so easily, but one hand is in your hair now, tugging, the other around your throat, gentle but assertive, and the whimper you let out is embarrassing. Your hands clench around the fabric of his joggers; your pussy around nothing, and that’s when you abruptly push him away, hands on his firm chest. You think your ears deceive you, but you swear Lee Jeno just whined. A needy, pathetic whine. So beautiful. It makes something coil in your chest, a pulse of heat you didn’t expect, a reminder of just how much power he has over you in a single sound. 

His back is against the sofa cushions now, and he looks defeated, chest visibly moving. “You’re a fucking menace.” 

You laugh a little too loudly at how out of breath he sounds, as though he didn’t just have full control of that kiss. His lips are shiny, a darker shade of their usual pink, and you lick at yours, realizing they must be just as wet. You can still taste him, and your walls flutter around emptiness again. You’re tempted to look down and check whether he’s also affected, but you withhold. That would make things so much worse. 

“I promised one kiss. I gave it to you.” You pat his thighs gently, and his hands catch yours again, fingers interlocking this time. It’s your heart that flutters this time. 

“Alright, Dua Lipa.” 

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘ 

Jeno has always known you’re trouble. He’s always pitied the guy you’ll end up with—or anyone who falls for you. Not because you’re not a catch, but because he views you as someone hard to say no to. And now… he’s exactly the kind of guy he pities. He’s never thought of himself as a weak man. But here he is, walking you home after your regular Tuesday session, pretending he’s listening to your rant about some professor who hates you and struggling not to make his fascination obvious. Because he really is fascinated—by the way you move your hands, the way you furrow your eyebrows in frustration, the way you swear a little too much when you’re stressed, and the way you say “what the fuck,” because what the fuck is wrong with him? 

He can’t stop thinking about how adorable you looked earlier when you drew a Venn diagram correctly, how your eyes lit up when you got his validation, how you gasped when the only thing he said was “good job.” Not because he has some weird claim on you, but because he likes how determined you are to do well. And he likes that he’s helping you. But most of all, he likes that you’re succeeding. Jeno is positive you don’t even need his help to pass the module anymore, but he can’t bring himself to tell you that just yet—simply because he likes that you want his help. 

It’s been two days since that obliterating kiss, and Jeno keeps pondering. You. How you got on your knees. How you touched him. How you sounded. How easily you ruined him with just one kiss. He knows he’s already slept with you, but for some reason, that kiss beats any other moment he’s had with you. It was too good. Too much. And oh, what he would give to experience that again. 

“You free this Friday?” The question slips mid-thought, and the silence that follows makes him turn his head to look at you. He struggles not to laugh at your dumbfounded expression, pursing his lips to control the smile that threatens to take over his face. 

“You weren’t listening just now, were you?” You scold, though the tone of amusement is still evident. 

“Nah. Not really.” He blatantly admits, getting a kick out of annoying you. 

“Dickhead.” You huff in the cutest way possible. 

“Friday.” He repeats stubbornly as you’re nearing your building. “Free or not?” 

“What exactly am I walking into here?” You ask carefully, eyes narrowing in suspicion. 

“An orgy.” 

“Yeah, alright, get me involved.” Your bored tone shouldn’t make him smile. 

He sighs in annoyance, because there’s no way you don’t know what he’s hinting at. “I wanna take you out, you pleb.” 

“Pleb?” 

He groans dramatically. “Oh my god—” 

“I’m actually not.” 

“What?” 

“I’m not free on Friday. I promised Gigi I’d do movie night.” No way. Fuck that. There’s no way he’s asking you out and you’re rejecting him. 

“You serious? You’re blowing me off for some movie night?” He knows he should tone it down. He’s sounding hurt, and it’s not that deep. It shouldn’t be. 

“I’m not blowing you off—” 

“You so are. Royally.” He can’t help but feel a little defeated. He’s never winning with you. 

“I can do Saturday.” You say with a hopeful tone, and Jeno feels some relief at the fact that you’re not entirely rejecting him. 

“I said I’d go to this stupid party on Saturday.” He grumbles. He doesn’t even want to go, but you’re not willing to cancel your plans for him. So why should he? 

“Right, well… we’ll have to do next week then.” The disappointment in your voice makes his heart jump and his stomach clench. Why do you keep doing that? Until now, it was his head. Now, you’re messing with his heart and stomach too? It’s unfair. 

“Why don’t you come with me?” He offers, hoping it doesn’t make him seem weak. Although he knows that’s exactly what he is—a weak, needy, pathetic man. For you. 

“To your stupid party?” You almost sound offended, and now he regrets even asking. 

“Yeah.” He sighs as you both come to a halt outside your building. It’s dark already, and the streetlights reflect prettily on your face, accentuating your features. Your nose is a little red from the cold, and you’re in thought, teeth catching your bottom lip as you consider his invitation. 

“That’s not really taking me out though, is it?” You try shyly. You never tiptoe around things. And Jeno hates that he loves that. 

“I just want to spend time with you, Y/N.” He attempts to lower his guard a little but realizes how awfully intimate his words sound. Oh well. “We can show face for a bit, and then we can just fuck off if it’s boring, go somewhere else.” 

“Where?” 

“Disneyland.” He deadpans again, trying to put on the fakest smile he can, but unintentionally, it transforms into a genuine one. He blames the cute way you roll your eyes at him. So unamused. 

“Wow, you’re on a roll today. How will I ever recover from this laughter?” You sound bored, but he sees how hard you’re trying to hold back your smile. 

“God, you’re annoying.” And he’s not lying. You are so fucking annoying. And so fucking pretty. He blames the streetlights. And his stupid heart. 

You outright laugh at his exasperation, and Jeno finds himself in a predicament. He could ignore you, move on with the conversation, or he could shut you up. It’s an easy decision. 

The cute sound of surprise you let out when his lips crash onto yours is imprinted on his brain, and so is your soft touch on his chest, and so is the way you kiss him back, matching his eagerness, and so is your taste, and so is the way your body molds into his. It all just fits perfectly. You fit perfectly. 

Your nose feels cold against his cheek, but the back of your neck feels hot against his frosty fingers, and he wonders when it became such a normal thing for him to notice details like that. A kiss is a kiss. There shouldn’t be any science behind it. That’s what he always thought. Until that night you sat with him on the carpet at the foot of his bed. 

A wet smooching sound echoes in the cold of the evening when he pulls away, and he can’t fight his smile seeing how you lean closer, chasing after his lips. 

“Come.” He whispers, both your breaths visible. 

“Huh?” You sound lost, blinking quickly as though adjusting back to reality. Did he just kiss you, stupid? 

“On Saturday. Come with me.” He sounds like he’s begging now, and he hates it. That’s what it’s come to. 

He trails his hands down your arms, over your thick jacket, and the bashful expression on your face makes his pulse fasten as he threads his fingers through yours. 

“Okay. I’ll come.” Success. 

“Good.” He leans down, leaving another chaste kiss on your lips before he can chicken out, and then, as you’re about to speak, he’s walking away. 

“Dude, what th—” 

“You better have that mock test ready for Thursday!” He shouts over his shoulder, and he wishes his resolve was stronger, but he can’t fight the need to look back. And the confusion on your cute face is so worth it. 

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘ 

Jeno doesn’t know what to do with himself. 

There you are. A few feet away from him, in this crowded space, conversing with some girls he’s never met before. So confident, carrying yourself so gracefully, your laugh audible and sweet. So sweet, so intoxicating, so heart-wrenching. 

He brought you here. And for some reason, he expected you to not leave his side; to crowd him, to be needy and demand his attention. As always, he was mistaken. He should know by now, you’re not like most girls he’s associated himself with. But he’s a fool. A fool who keeps misjudging you and putting you in the same basket as everyone else. 

And there you always are. Proving him wrong every single time. 

“What’s with the long face?” Haechan’s voice cuts through Jeno’s trail of thought. 

“No long face.” Jeno quickly dismisses the accusation. “Just thinking.” 

“Thinking at a party? You must be in serious trouble.” As much of a smart-ass as his friend can be, he’s got the tendency of being right most of the time. And just like now, he’s always smug about it, the irritating smirk on his face proof. 

“Fuck off.” Jeno mutters, always harmless. “Don’t you have a girlfriend to bless with your annoying-ass face?” 

“And bless her I shall.” Haechan sings, making Jeno snort at his silliness. “Quit yearning and just go talk to her, you dumb-ass bitch. You look like you’ve seen a litter of dead puppies.” Haechan whispers aggressively as he walks away swiftly, before Jeno can have the pleasure of shoving him. 

“Wet wipe.” Jeno curses under his breath as he watches his friend lovingly wrap his arms around his girlfriend, his face nuzzling into her neck as she smiles bright. It’s sweet and it’s disgusting, and the undeniable feeling of envy fills Jeno. He’s envious of them both. Because as disgusting as they can be, they’re happy. And they don’t fail to remind him every fucking second. 

When Jeno redirects his vision to you, he’s met with your eyes, and you shatter him with the sweetest smile you’ve ever given him. And there goes his poor heart again. His lips move on their own, returning the gesture without permission, and when you extend your hand in his direction, wordlessly asking him to join you, there goes his stomach. His legs seem to work on their own, because in a few seconds, he’s pushing himself off the wall, crossing the room, and in a few more, Jeno’s got your hand in his. 

“Hey.” You greet quietly, with a small squeeze around his fingers. 

“Hey, yourself.” He instinctively pulls you closer into his side and you smile wider, looking down bashfully, the group you were chatting with long forgotten behind you. 

“Having fun?” You seem genuinely interested, and for some reason, Jeno feels weak. Words don’t come easily in that moment, so he just shrugs, nose scrunching a little.

“You?” 

“Eh, I’m too sober.” The way you wrap both arms around his has him in a chokehold, and Jeno looks around at the chaos of the party, then back down at you. 

“Wanna get out of here?” He asks, relieved that your eyes light up with hope. 

“Disneyland?” You tease, a tiny smirk adorning your face. Jeno chews on his bottom lip to prevent his own smile. 

“Disneyland.” 

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘ 

Jeno’s place is relatively tidy compared to last time you were there. Some books are scattered here and there, a plant struggling to stay alive in the corner, a used-up mug on the coffee table. Though very evident that it’s a boys’ house, you can smell the laundry detergent. It’s messy but clean, and for some reason, that makes you feel a sense of warmth. 

“Not as bad as I thought it would be.” You twirl your finger in the air, gesturing at the space as you walk further inside the living room. 

He snorts as he takes off his shoes, placing them next to yours. “Did you expect a crack den?” 

“Sure looked like one last time.” You stand in front of the bookshelves, scanning all the titles they’ve collected. “I’m assuming these aren’t all yours.” 

“And why would you assume that?” He’s standing a lot closer than you thought; you can almost feel his body heat seeping through your thick jumper. 

“Dunno.” You stay put, refusing to turn around and look at him. “You don’t strike me as much of a reader.” 

He lets out a short laugh, his breath hitting the back of your neck. Oh, he’s close—close. 

“And what do I strike you as?” His fingers make contact with the back of your hand, lightly tracing until his index hooks around your pinky. The gesture feels a lot more intimate than it should, and even though it’s the least sexual thing anyone could do, you feel yourself getting hot. 

“As someone who reads because they should, not because they want to.” 

“Wow.” His whisper hits your ear as his thumb fumbles gently with the ring you’ve got on your pinky. “You’ve got me all figured out, haven’t you?” 

“Not really, no.” Your breath hitches slightly as he wraps his other arm around your middle, pulling you flush against him. His chest feels hard against your back, and his breathing is definitely a lot more stable than yours, but his heartbeat doesn’t match his calmness. It’s oddly comforting. 

He doesn’t stall when you turn around. His lips instantly find yours. No teasing, no hesitation. 

He’s everywhere. 

You feel him everywhere, and your heart hurts from the intensity. From how gentle he is. From how slow he kisses you compared to all the other times. 

You’re worried he can feel the heat radiating off your skin when his hand cradles your face, thumb tracing your cheekbone so delicately you feel hysterical. The whimper you let out seems to encourage him as he tilts his head a little, deepening the kiss, and you can’t help but part your lips more, desperate to taste him. 

Your hands slither up to his hair, threading through the short strands, and a moan escapes from your throat when he pushes you into the bookshelf, his tongue obscenely licking into your mouth, tangling with yours in a wet mess. 

“You hungry?” He mutters into the kiss, clearly with no intention of pulling away, but your arms circle his neck, holding him closer—just in case he made the unacceptable choice of stopping. 

“Mm-mm.” Your refusal vibrates between your mouths as you kiss him harder, his uncoordinated breathing egging you on as you walk him backward, blindly leading your tangled bodies to the sofa. 

“Thirsty?” He’s smiling as he lets you guide him, his hands grabbing onto your hips, refusing to put space between your bodies. 

“No.” You clumsily stumble over your feet, and his arms around you help you regain your balance, his light chuckle hitting you on the lips, breath hot against you, as he harshly lands on the sofa cushions, eagerly helping you straddle him as though being apart from you is unfathomable. 

“Guessing you’re not tired either.” He barely gets to finish the sentence before a grunt leaves him; your fingers pulling harshly at his hair as you shamelessly shove your tongue in his mouth, easily shutting him up. He slumps against the sofa with a sigh against your lips, hands limply resting on your ass as he lets you take control. 

“What about you? You tired?” You break the kiss with a loud, wet smack, your hand around his neck preventing him from trailing after you. You tighten your hold when he attempts to move again, and you revel in the sight of his confused expression. It's almost like a newfound pleasure, like it’s something he didn’t know he wanted until now. You can tell by the tensing of his eyebrows, the quick blinking of his eyes, the tightening of his jaw, the clawing at your ass cheeks. 

He’s never been put in his place before, and it shows. 

“Answer me.” You instruct seductively, lips brushing his as you grind down on the very evident erection suffocating in his jeans. 

“Fuck—no. I’m not fucking tired.” He grits, nostrils flaring in annoyance, and his harsh expression earns a smirk from you as you make sure to press harder on the sides of his neck. A mean laugh tumbles out of you as his resolve breaks, eyes rolling back the second you grind down again, the fabric of your jeans rubbing against your throbbing clit deliciously, but you ignore the pleasure, focusing on how responsive Jeno’s body has suddenly become. 

He could easily overpower you, take matters into his own hands, ruin you if he wanted to, and that knowledge turns you on a lot more than it should. Because he’s actively choosing to be submissive. He’s silently asking to be choked, succumbing to the power you didn’t know you held over him. Until now. 

“You’re kinda pathetic, Jen.” You whisper in his ear, his moan vibrating between your chests as you leave a little kiss on his cheek. “It’s cute.” 

“Fuck off.” 

You’re not sure if it was meant to come out harsh, but it’s far from it. It’s whiny and breathless. 

“That’s mean.” You coo at him, another soft kiss left on his cheek before a theatrical pout takes place on your lips. “You promised you’d be good to me.” 

“You’re the one who’s being mean.” His head turns so he can look at you, arms wrapping tightly around you, and you can’t help but loosen your hold around his throat. 

He’s blinking slowly, breathing shallowly, and you swear his hazy eyes are going to be the death of you. He looks weak and sweet and so fucked out, and if it weren’t for the next words that leave his mouth, you would have held your ground. 

“I like you.” He whispers. So casual but so lethal at the same time. “A lot.” 

You sit up a little, and he follows after you, arms tightening around you as he buries his face in your chest, sighing heavily, making your heart go crazy. He can definitely feel it. 

“Say something.” His words are muffled against the fabric of your jumper, and you can’t tell when exactly you started stroking his hair, both hands softly threading. 

“I like you too.” You murmur in his hair, inhaling the boyish but sweet smell of his shampoo, and you smile when his shoulders visibly relax. 

“Stay tonight.” 

You know what he’s asking, and when he looks up at you, you also know it’s game over. 

You give him a little nod before leaving a chaste kiss on his lips, his surprised expression making you feel giddy. “I’ll stay.” 

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘ 

Lee Jeno is a lot of things.  

He’s stubborn and annoying and cocky at times and he’s annoyingly smart and good with numbers which makes him a good tutor. He’s nice at times too, and funny and oddly endearing. He’s also incredibly hot, and cute, even though he hates being called that.  

But you’ve always known those things.  

What you didn’t know is how incredibly and unfairly good he is at giving head. Out of this world good. And as much as you hate it you also can’t help but love it. What you love the most, however, is how much he seems to love it. 

“Holy shit, Jen, slow down.” You pant, thighs shaking in overstimulation, your body trying to comprehend the intense orgasm it just went through, but Jeno doesn’t seem to give a flying fuck.  

“Shut up and keep your legs open.” He mutters into your drenched pussy, arousal and spit coating the lower half of his face, the scene before you incriminating as you struggle to do as he says with a pathetic whine.  

“I’m too sensitive, you psycho.” Your futile attempt to harshly pull at his hair, backfires as he shoves two fingers in your dripping hole, a string of spit landing on your clit, thumb replacing his tongue in harsh circles. His fingers reach deeper than yours ever have, stimulating the sensitive spot inside your walls with ease.  

“Don’t want my tongue? Fine. You’re taking my fingers.” His hand is thrusting roughly, digits barely pulling out as he creates a vibration-like motion, abusing your g-spot like nobody’s business.  

“Oh my god!” Your screech is embarrassing, and so is the way your trembling fingers grip his bedsheets. What really is mortifying, though, is how loud your cunt is. The lewd sounds are almost offensive to your dignity, which seems to be out the window by now. You feel too hot, sweat dripping down your temples and you wish you had the energy to take off your top, the intense pleasure clouding all your senses. 

“Just accept that you’re gonna cum again.” The sweet kiss he leaves on your inner thigh highly contrasts the way he’s violently fucking into your sopping cunt and you can’t help but give into it. Because he’s right. You’re going to cum again. “There we go, baby, just take it.”  

“Fuck, it’s too much, y-you're too deep.” You cry, asking for a little bit of mercy that doesn’t seem likely to come your way.  

“You’re dripping though.” His hot breath fans on your centre, free hand pressing into your belly, holding you hostage. “Literally ruining my sheets.”  

His humiliating words do something to you, and unfortunately, he seems to notice the way you clench around his fingers, the way your back arches a little more. “Thought you didn’t like me being mean, baby.” 

“Shut the fuck up.” Your voice comes out whiny, no threat laced in it whatsoever, and his laugh is sinister, openly mocking your desperate state, pushing you over the edge unexpectedly. “Fuck, I’m cumming.”  

Your body tenses, chest heaving, walls clamping down on his fingers, forbidding any further movement, but his thumb is relentless, rubbing your poor clit through your high. 

“Shit, baby.” He whispers, the sound barely reaching your buzzing ears. Your eyes are squeezed shut and you reach for anything that can pull back to the surface. Your nails dig into his arm, the one draped over your stomach and he quickly laces his fingers with yours, understanding what you need. “You’re good. I’ve got you.” He trails gentle kisses up and down your thigh, the action soothing, helping you back to a more coherent state. 

“I fucking hate you.” You pant. No irritation in your tone, just defeat and deliriousness. 

He chuckles against your skin, fingers slowly pulling out of your heat. “No, you don’t.”  

Your hands instinctively caress his hair as he starts dragging your top up your torso, a kiss left on every newly uncovered inch of skin. You help him by sitting up a little, arms raising and then hands finding his face as soon as the garment is off, pulling him in for a slow kiss he so easily gives into. You can feel his grin, and it makes you chuckle softly against his lips but neither of you pulls away.  

Within seconds, your back arches, making room for his hands as they unclasp your bra and once it’s gone, you eagerly wrap your arms around his neck, craving to feel his skin on yours, sighing at the way your sensitive nipples drag against his warm chest.  

It’s quiet and loud at the same time. No words are exchanged as you intimately make out with him. It’s all heavy breathing, a whimper here and there, the rustling of his sheets, the wet sound of kissing, one of your phones’ buzzing as neither of you seems to care. It’s a soft moan of yours that breaks the silence, and then one of his as he slowly grinds his jean-clad cock into your tingling pussy, the material harsh on your hypersensitive clit.  

His arms cage your head, supporting his weight as he makes room between your bodies for your hands, trembling fingers clumsily unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans, your hands blindly shoving the material down, both of you to stubborn to pull away from the sloppy kiss you’ve trapped yourselves in.  

“Mmh- just- fuck sake.” You mumble in his mouth and he lets out a small laugh as he reluctantly pushes off you to remove the rest of his clothes hastily. You smile at his erratic movements, relishing in the fact that he’s as needy as you are.  

His mouth is back on yours within seconds, body finding home between your parted legs, fitting just perfectly and you breathe harshly when his cock prods at your entrance.  

“Do we need a condom?” He murmurs breathlessly, eyes meeting as his face hovers just inches above yours. You find it cute how he remembers about protection now, when he’s already finished inside you before.   

“You’re clean?”  

“Yeah.”  

“Then no.” 

He nods with a shaky exhale, and you pull his face closer, not being able to stand any space between you. One arm sneaks around his neck, the other circles his shoulder blade, holding onto him as you prepare for the intrusion, craving the stinging sensation you felt last time he entered you.  

His tip bumps your clit a few times as he rubs the length of his cock between your folds, coating himself in your arousal.  

“So wet, baby.” It sounds pained and you’re slowly starting to lose any restraint that’s left in you.  

“Please, fuck me.” You whine into the dip of his shoulder, hips twitching, raising to find friction.  

The head of his cock kisses your entrance, and the second you start to feel the delicious pressure, he slips, finding your clit once again, making you inhale sharply. You’re so wet, it’s embarrassing. 

“Shit, sorry.” He utters the rushed words as he looks down, between your bodies, one arm propping him above you.  

“It’s okay, just try again.” You caress the back of his neck softly as you patiently wait for a stretch that doesn’t come. He’s still, breathing heavily as he looks down, forehead dropping to your shoulder and now you’re starting to get concerned.  

“You okay?” You ask in confusion, as your hands reach for his face, but he hides in your neck.  

“I’m- this is fucking embarrassing.” His body is trembling and you have no choice but to wrap your arms around him, still not understanding what he’s going on about.  

“Jen, what’s wrong?”  

Did he change his mind or something? Did he just realise he’s not that into you? Or did he just remember he’s got chlamydia?  

“I’m actually freaking out. What is hap- 

“I’ve gone soft.”  

Oh.  

“My dick is soft.” He rephrases, voice muffled in your neck and you try your best not to laugh at his pained tone, by hiding your face in his shoulder. Don’t laugh don’t laugh don’t laugh.  

It's pointless. Inevitable. A snort escapes. He tenses.  

“Are you fucking laughing?”  

“No.” Your arms tighten around his shoulders, trapping him, or preventing him from seeing your pursed lips.  

“I actually fucking hate you.” He exasperates, lips grazing your skin, but he lets his weight slump on you regardless. And you feel it. He really is soft.  

“Are you nervous?” You’re not mocking, just asking genuinely as your thumb strokes his temple, nails gently scratching his scalp, trying to offer some comfort through his embarrassment.  

“Why would I be nervous?” He defends quickly, stubbornness coating his voice.  

“Chill. It’s just a question.”  

“I’m not nervous.” He persists. He really is incapable of lying.  

“You’re overthinking then.” You start tracing patterns on his shoulder with your free hand as his breathing becomes more stable.  

“What’s there to overthink? It's sex.” He sighs as your toes tickle the back of his knee, foot slowly caressing his leg.  

“Erectile dysfunction?” You joke and he huffs out a breath in annoyance, tickling your neck, goosebumps raising. You hum in thought, pretending to be in search of other reasons for his little mishap. He shivers as you lazily start scratching up and down his back, your other hand still in his hair, slightly tugging.  

“Maybe you’re just not that into me then.” A smirk tugs on your lips as he playfully bites down on your shoulder.  

“Yeah.” He nuzzles your jaw. “That must be it.” He starts kissing along the bone, his hand cradling the other side of your face, urging you to face him and he’s miserably failing to hold his smile back, just like you are. He cutely brushes his nose against yours and your brain malfunctions for a second. Never did you think Lee Jeno would be eskimo kissing you in bed right after he got a limp dick because he got too nervous.  

But here you are.  

“You know,” Your hand caresses his wrist as his hand buries in your hair. “You can be really cute sometimes.” Your lips find the tip of his nose, and he slightly flinches as the tender gesture, coaxing a giggle out of you that gets interrupted by his hand roughly pulling at your hair and you know your tactic to get him riled up is working.  

Your whine is muffled by his lips, tongue forcing its way into your mouth like it’s his mission to shut you up and you revel in the dominance he asserts. A big hand wraps around your neck, fingers squeezing a little tighter than you expect, making you feel dizzy as his tongue claims your mouth in the filthiest way possible. Drool smears on your chin and the little twitch you feel on your belly forces a satisfied moan out of you.  

“This cute enough for you?” He breathes into your mouth, his hips grinding with force, hardening cock sliding between your wet folds, cunt throbbing with need. 

“Whatever cutie, just try not to go soft on me again.” 

A sarcastic laugh tumbles out of him. “You trying to piss me off?”  

“Yes.” 

“I will literally fuck you into oblivion.” He mumbles in your ear, his teeth trapping the lobe between them before he starts trailing wet kisses down the side of your neck, hand moving to fondle one of your breasts, fingers harshly squeezing, claiming, making you mewl.  

“Please, do.” You beg cutely, legs wrapping around his waist, heels pushing him into you more as your hips lift momentarily as you feel a new gush of arousal dripping out of you, smearing between your bodies. You just know it’s a mess down there.  

Two of his fingers find your entrance, swirling through the wetness before he abruptly shoves them in to stretch you out again and before you have time to adjust, two become three, stretching your tight hole to the max. Your moans are unrecognisable, downright pornographic and you can’t imagine how good his cock is going to feel. You’re so horny, you feel like you’re going to pass out. 

“Jen- oh fuck- please just put it in.” Your hands grab his face, forcing his eyes onto yours, showing him how blinded with desperation you are. You really want him. And he seems to share the same sentiment. His dilated pupils show you that much.  

He kisses you stupid again, tongue tasting you hungrily as he fucks his fingers into you deep and slow a few more times and then emptiness. He kisses you harder when you whine in protest, but it’s the fat head of his cock prodding at your hole that really shuts you up and this time he doesn’t slip out. This time you feel the sting you so impatiently were craving.  

Your walls flutter around him, but they welcome his thick length greedily, sucking him as he sinks in slowly.  

“Oh my god.” He utters breathlessly as his pubic bone finds yours, hips grinding to help you both get used to the stimulation, mouth dropping open against yours as you bite down on his lip, not caring if your draw blood because it all just feels divine.  

“Move.” You plead, letting your legs spread wide for him, your hands burying in his hair as you bring his lips to your again, needing him closer.  

“Stop clenching so hard. Feels like you’re pushing me out.” He whispers softly, following up with a slow kiss, his hand caressing your thigh as he holds himself up on one forearm by your head, thumb stroking your temple gingerly and you instantly feel yourself relax a little.  

“Sorry.” You murmur into the kiss, feeling him smile against you, your stomach doing that thing it always does when he does the most insignificant things. 

He finally starts moving, slow and deep, cock stimulating every nerve ending in your walls and you’re so sensitive you feel every ridge, every vein, the slight curve of his length and the way he thrusts a little upwards doing wonders to that sweet spot deep inside you.  

He leaves a sweet kiss on your cheek before letting his head drop, face burying in your neck, hot breaths hitting your skin deliciously as you both lose yourselves to the consuming pleasure. Your arms wrap around his broad shoulders, quiet moans filling the space of his room as his pace quickens slightly, the hand on your thigh slipping between you and the mattress, softly squeezing your ass cheek, keeping you in place, grounding you like you need him to. 

“Fuck, baby.” The sweet petname, whispered in your ear, makes your pussy clench around him and he lets out a muffled grunt. His fingers squeeze the flesh of your ass a little harder and his hips start snapping against yours, wet slaps echoing as he fucks you with short and hard thrusts. “You like that?”  

“Yes.” You sigh into his neck, nails clawing at his shoulder blades as you take what he’s giving you, eyes rolling to the back of your head when his cock starts abusing your g-spot, barely pulling out before fucking back into your needy cunt. You feel incredibly close and you’re almost shocked he’s managed to bring you this close to an orgasm so quickly, just with his cock. “Fuck- I’m s-sorry- I think I’m gonna cum.”  

“I can feel you.” He moans and raises his head to look at you. “It’s okay, don’t say sorry. I want you to.” His hips maintain their perfect rhythm, stimulating the gummy spot inside you as well as your swollen clit. “Let go, baby. I’ve got you.”  

You squeeze your eyes shut, not being able to handle his intense stare and another moan from him is what send you over the edge. It’s intense, mind-consuming, your legs shake as he fucks you through it like he’s made for it, messily kissing you, groaning into your mouth as you violently squeeze his cock, walls almost pushing him out, but his thrusts unfaltering.  

“Jesus.” He pants as you cry out, the pleasure now bordering overstimulation, but he doesn’t slow down. His back is drenched in sweat, your fingers slipping as they try to hold onto something and he immediately pins your hands above your head as he starts fucking you harder; bruising, animalistic thrusts melting your brain into mush.  

“J-Jen, I’m- oh f- I can’t-  

“Shhh. You can. It’ll feel good again.” His tongue finds yours in a kiss full of teeth and spit and you can barely focus on anything, too fucked out to function properly. You’re thankful you’re at least breathing. “You’re mine. Right, baby?” 

Holy fuck. What is happening?  

“I am?” You mumble against his lips, your heart going ballistic.  

“You’re my girl, no?” He holds your arms pinned with one hand as the other cradles your jaw, eyes finding yours. 

“Yes.” You breathe out pathetically.  

“Say it.” He demands with a sharp thrust, balls slapping against your ass, your arousal coating your inner thighs as he grinds into you.  

“I’m your girl.” The tip of his cock brushes your abused spot again, mind-numbing pleasure building again, like it never went away. 

“Fuck yeah, you are.” He traps your bottom lip between his teeth, sucking before releasing. “Mine.”  

Your breathing is laboured as his hips resume their ministrations. Fucking you hard and fast towards another high that seems to come even quicker than the previous one. It’s like he’s forcing them out of you. And you know you’re going to be ruined for any other man after this. You really are his. He owns you. But you can’t say that. You refuse to admit it. Even as he’s balls deep in you, fucking you into oblivion, exactly like he promised. 

“Are you mine?” It slips out before you can register the thought. You blame his dick.  

He moans. It’s strangled and deep, his eyebrows tensing as he blinks quickly, as though trying to comprehend your words. It’s cute and hot at the same time. “Fuck- you know I am.” 

“Tell me.” You whisper, short-breathed, nuzzling your nose with his, your foreheads almost touching and his eyes roll back when your walls flutter around him again. What a sight.  

“I’m yours, baby.” He grunts as you purposely tighten around him and you didn’t think it was possible, but he fucks you harder, the sounds obscene, your back arching as he sits up, kneeling between you spread legs, pushing them up to your chest, fucking you so deep you have to brace your hands against the headboard, a loud cry leaving your throat. “All yours. All for my girl.”  

“Oh my god.” You exhale harshly, nails digging into wood as his words send you into a frenzy. “Fuuuuck I’m gonna cum.” Your tone pleading and he can’t do anything other than oblige.  

“Uh-huh, cum for me, baby.” He whispers, head hanging low as he lets a good amount of saliva dribble from his mouth onto where you’re both connected, and your broken moan echoes around the walls of his room when the digit quickly finds your swollen clit, all wet and slippery from arousal and spit. He flicks the nub in quick up and down motions as he tries to keep the same angle of his hips.  

A particularly soft flick of his thumb is what makes your body seize, drowning you in obliterating pleasure as your pussy squeezes tight around him again, this orgasm even more intense than the previous one, if not the most intense one you’re ever had in your whole existence. 

He pulls out with a grunt, hovering over you again, a deep kiss left on your lips before he continues down to your neck, sucking and licking, marking your sweaty skin, and you whimper weakly when his tongue finds a nipple, his big hands squishing your sensitive tits and you don’t have it in you anymore to deny him anything. He can do as he pleases. 

“So pretty.” He mumbles, completely lost in his own little world that seems to be occupied only by your nipples and tits as he lathers them in his spit, licking and sucking like man starved.  

Before you have time to regain your breathing, you’re on your front, face buried in his pillows as his hands grab onto your hips.  

“Ass up for me, baby.” He helps you get on your knees, back arched, tits squished against his mattress. “Spread your legs.” He gently taps your outer thigh and you oblige with a whimper as he starts leaving wet kisses on one of your ass cheeks, hands kneading the flesh.  

“What are you doing?” You mumble, slightly panicked as he gets closer and closer to your asshole.  

You attempt to look back when no answer comes, but your head drops back down in defeat as his tongue licks a fat stripe from your clit to your dripping entrance. The moan that erupts from your throat is broken, surprise evident as you tangle your fingers in his sheets.  

“What the fuck.” You whisper, rushed words muffled by Jeno’s pillows. Your jaw slackens as his tongue languidly circles your sopping hole, dipping lightly, tasting you shamelessly and within seconds it travels back down to your clit, flicking it from side to side with the tip of his tongue, making your legs tremble, struggling to hold you up.  

You’re a mess down there, you know it. The filthy sounds filling the room, prove that much. He’s sloppy with it; making out with your pussy like he’s thirsty, tongue everywhere, even slipping up to your other tight hole a few times, coating you in his spit wherever he can reach.  

“Shit.” He rasps. “I could eat this pussy for days, baby.”  

“Jen-” 

“So perfect.” He mumbles in awe, his lips brushing your sensitive clit before wrapping around it, sucking harshly, tongue flicking in quick motions, driving you crazy, turning you into a blabbering mess, a hand reaching behind you to tangle in his hair, pulling desperately.  

“Please fuck me. Want your cum in me.” You don’t even know where that filth came from, but you can’t bring yourself to care in the slightest. You think you might lose the plot if he doesn’t stick his cock in your aching pussy right this second.  

Thankfully, your begging deems rewarding. You feel the mattress dip behind you as he repositions and the sound you make when he stuffs you to the brim in one motion, resembles a scream.  

“Yeah? My girl wants my cum?” His voice barely reaches your ears over your loud moans as he starts thrusting into you in no time. Hard and fast. And you feel him in your fucking throat; the position allowing him to go deeper than anyone has before. His hands grab onto your waist, fucking you silly onto his cock, his balls slapping your poor clit deliciously and you’re positive you’re drooling onto his pillow.  

“Oh, my fucking god. Right there.” You plead urgently as his tip nudges your g-spot for the umpteenth time tonight, your eyes rolling in the back of your skull, arms crossing over the small of your back, silently asking him to take complete control over your spent body.  

“Shit, Y/N.” He pants, one hand taking hold of your wrists, the other grabs onto your shoulder, forcing you onto his cock, the wet slaps of his hips onto your ass turning you on beyond belief. You arch your back more, craving to feel him as deep as possible and his moan tells you he’s equally as affected. “You look so good like this.” 

You twist your neck, looking over your shoulder, desperately searching for his eyes. You know you look destroyed, barely able to keep your eyes open, but you want him to see, want him to know what he’s done to you, that it’s all him.  

The second his gaze meets yours, you know it’s game over for both of you. He looks unreal, sweat dripping from his temples down to his neck, chest glistening and heaving, abs flexing beautifully each time he thrusts forward. You know he can feel your walls tightening. His eyes closing momentarily, jaw clenching, his hold around your wrists becoming so deliciously painful, you hope it leaves a mark. 

The hand on your shoulder slips in your hair, pulling, forcing you off the mattress as he leans forward, slotting your lips with his in a sloppy kiss. It’s full of tongue, saliva and need. You love it. You love everything he’s doing to you.  

“You gonna cum one more time for me, yeah?” He whispers wetly against your lips, spit smearing on both your chins and you can’t help but nod dumbly. “Good girl.” 

Your face is shoved in his pillow again and next thing you know, he’s fucking the living shit out of you, hand now at the base of your nape as his hold around your wrists doesn’t loosen.  

“You’re so fucking perfect for me.”  

It’s the primal, raw need in his voice along with the brush against your sweet spot that has you teetering over the edge again. It’s overwhelming. Your fists clench at the small of your back, legs shaking and weren't he holding you in place, you would have collapsed on the mattress limbless.  

A tear escapes from the corner of your eye from the intensity, trickling down to the pillowcase and you thank the universe when you hear a deep grunt leaving his throat, signalling the beginning of his own orgasm.  

“Shit, baby, I’m cumming.” His voice trembles and his hips stutter, sloppily thrusting until your feel warmth spreading inside your throbbing cunt, his hot release painting your walls white. He grinds into your ass, dragging both your highs until he lets out a whimper of overstimulation and you intentionally clench a couple of times, wanting to torture him for a little longer considering what he put your body through tonight. Not that you’re complaining, but the pathetic whine that escapes his throat, along with his hands grabbing your hips in urgency, is the best reward you could ask for now.  

You accidentally let out a breathy chuckle that becomes louder when he lightly slaps your ass in warning. “Don’t be a brat.”  

You mewl when he slowly pulls out and manhandles you onto your back. He leans down, seeking for your lips and he sighs when you meet him halfway, slotting your mouth with his on instinct as his body moulds with yours, his hand slipping his softening length back into your dripping hole with no warning, earning a yelp from you.  

“Mmh, Jen-” 

“Relax.” He mumbles into the kiss. “Just feels warm.” He whispers, and you can detect a tone of shyness. You can’t help but smile fondly at the side of him you’ve rarely seen.  

“You’re weird.” You tease, still kissing him slowly.  

“You’re annoying.” He retorts, leaving quick little kisses on your lips, moving onto your cheeks, then your nose, then returning to your lips with a chaste smooch that deems you helpless. Giggles and butterflies erupting.  

“But you like me.” You sing playfully, dragging the sentence, hands squishing his cheeks to annoy him even more. He stares down at you for a moment, biting his bottom lip to contain a smile you can see anyway.  

“But I like you.” He admits, blinking slowly and you can’t help but return the smile before leaning up to give him another sweet kiss.  

Lee Jeno likes you and you like him too.  

Who would have thought? Definitely not you. 

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘ 

When you return from the bathroom, covered in the t-shirt he had on earlier, he is already under the covers, lying on his front. You’d be surprised if he wasn’t exhausted after all that. His bare back looks kissable and the back of his hair a mess and you can’t stop smiling giddily.  

A ding averts your attention. It’s your phone, coming from your jeans lying on the floor messily. You pick up the piece of clothing as well as the rest of your scattered clothes, placing them somewhat neatly on his desk chair before retreating your phone from your back pocket and setting it on silent mode.  

“Could you get mine too?” His groggy voice breaks through the silence as you scroll through any missed notifications.  

“Sure.” You reach inside the pocket of his jeans and as you’re about to toss him the phone, he speaks again. 

“Just turn my alarm off.” He mumbles in the pillow he’s got his face squished in. So cute.  

You snort. “Why do you have an alarm set for Sunday?”  

“I was gonna go gym, but wanna snooze with you. Is that alright?” He fires back, sarcastic even when he’s sleepy.  

“I guess that’s alright.” You feign an exasperated sigh. “What’s your passcode?” 

“Six-nine-six-nine.” He mutters indifferently and you snort again at the silly combination of numbers he’s chosen. Of course it’s sex related.  

“Meaningful.” 

“Just do it and come back to bed.” He huffs impatiently, which makes you giggle.  

The delighted sound is cut short the second his phone unlocks. Two incriminating messages from that Yuna girl, and a few more from Haechan. You feel like you’re invading, but they’re right there for your eyes to read. And you instantly regret the whole night.  

Yuna: where were u tonight  Yuna: thought we were meeting 🙁 

Haechan: yuna is looking for you  Haechan: on the verge of telling her you’re busy clapping cheeks with stats girl  Haechan: she’s pissing me off   Haechan: just cut if off if you’re into y/n  Haechan: don’t be an idiot 

You instantly like Haechan a little more and Jeno a little less. Did he really bring you to a party he was planning on meeting a side piece at?  

What the actual fuck.  

“Get back here.” Jeno grumbles sleepily from the bed, and you’re stuck between throwing the phone at his head and smashing it on the floor.  

You do neither. You choose to stay calm for now. You’re too tired to cause a scene or have an argument.  

“Coming.” You utter quietly, turning off his alarm before walking back to the bed.  

You get under the covers without another word. Your mind racing a thousand miles per hour, not knowing what to really think. You turn the bedside lamp off, mainly because you want to hide your watering eyes and he instantly shuffles closer, his arm wrapping around you, pulling your back flush against his chest, his body curling into yours comfortably.  

The kiss he leaves on your shoulder makes you close your eyes, refusing to shed tears right now. Grow up Y/N.  

He lets out a sigh, his warm breath hitting the back of your neck.  

“Night, baby.” He whispers softly, sounding already halfway to dreamland.  

You knew this was too good to be true. But what are you supposed to do now? 

“Night, Jen.” 

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘ 

Jeno’s fist hurts from the loud banging on the door of your apartment. 

Last night he went to sleep happy and content. Ecstatic at the thought of waking up next to you, spending the morning in bed with you. But when he woke up all alone and confused, all those positive feelings went down the drain. He feels enraged. Humiliated. But most of all, he feels something he hasn’t felt in a really long time. Something that until now, he hasn’t allowed himself to feel. 

Hurt. 

His chest physically hurt when he realised you weren’t in the bathroom or anywhere else in his place. He felt sick when he saw your clothes were not on his chair anymore and your shoes gone from his doorstep. 

But then, when he checked his phone for any missed calls or texts from you, he realised what was going on. And he felt angry. Mostly with himself but also with you, because you chose to not trust him. Again. Because you chose to leave in silence. Because you chose to drop him instead of talking to him. 

So, he’s here, banging on your door like a lunatic, running after you like he always is. Because he wants to fix this. Because he can’t let you go. He refuses to. 

Because Jeno doesn’t just like you. He’s crazy about you. He wants you like he’s never wanted anybody else in his entire existence. 

Because he’s a fool. A fool who’s undeniably in love with the girl he was just supposed to tutor and help pass a stupid stats class. 

When the door opens, Mark appears. 

“Where is she?” Jeno asks abruptly and Mark’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. 

“Um, hi?” 

“Yeah. Hi. Where is she?” He repeats, not in the mood for small talk. 

“I’m under strict instructions to not let you in.” Mark admits in a low tone. He looks scared. 

Jeno walks close to the boy, putting on a fake smile and Mark’s eyes go wide as he takes a step back in fear. 

“Do you want to spend the rest of your life in a wheelchair?” Jeno speaks slowly in a sweet tone, hand raising to squeeze Mark’s shoulder in warning. 

“No sir.” 

“Good. Tell me where she is.” 

“But I-” 

“Mark.” Tone devoid of any emotion now. Cold as ice. Mark gulps loudly. “I will genuinely beat the living shit out of you.” 

“She’s in the shower.” Mark steps aside obediently, giving Jeno space to enter the apartment. “You can wait in her room.” 

Jeno smiles and gently pats Mark on the cheek. “Good boy.” 

As he walks down the hall towards your room, Jeno hears Giselle scolding poor Mark, who just whines quietly. Something along the lines of ‘you try then’ and a defeated sigh. 

Jeno feels bad for speaking to Mark like that, but he had to do what he had to do. He’ll apologise later. All he really cares about now is you. 

He takes a seat at the foot of your made bed and his mind drifts to that night he found you lying in his bed. All sad and alone. He remembers how upset you were about your ex and hates to think that he’s now just another guy who’s hurt you. Because that’s the last thing Jeno wants to do. All he wants is to be with you. 

He knows he’s not easy to trust and he knows you have trust issues. You’ve never talked about it, but you don’t have to; he can tell. And he doesn’t care. He’ll do whatever it takes to gain your trust, but he needs you to want him to try. He needs you to listen to what he has to say. 

“Was me leaving without a word not enough of a statement?” Your irritated voice interrupts his messy thoughts and Jeno shoots up to his feet. 

Here you are, shutting your door closed and leaning against it. Your hair is wet from the shower you’ve clearly just had and you’re dressed in a baggy t-shirt and cute pyjama bottoms with sushi rolls on them. Under normal circumstances his first thought would have been damn, she’s cute but right now all he can see are your red glossy eyes. You’ve been crying. Because of him. 

“Why can’t you ever just talk to me when something’s wrong?” His question comes out more accusatory than he intends and he already hates himself for not being able to keep calm. 

“What’s the point?” You say weakly, chin quivering, lips pursing as you look at anywhere but him, blinking your tears away and Jeno can’t stand seeing you like this. He just wants to hug you. Keep you safe in his chest. 

“Y/N.” He says sternly, walking closer to you and before you can escape, he’s got your face in his hands, thumb wiping away the single tear that’s escaped. “Baby, look at me.” 

“Jen, just-” 

“Hey, no. Look at me.” He cups your cheeks, even as you attempt to turn away from him. You give in with a defeated sigh. “Those texts you saw. They mean nothing. I swear-” 

“I can fucking read.” You interrupt him, voice not so weak now. “She thought you were meeting her.” 

“I agreed to that ages ago. I didn’t even remember, I fucking swear! It was before we-” He sighs, closing his eyes momentarily to compose himself. “Look. I meant what I said last night. Yes, it was during sex but I really did fucking mean it.” 

You blink once. 

“You’re my girl.” He steps closer, the sweet smell of your shampoo taking over his senses for a second, but he focuses again. “You’re the only one. I want you. Just you. I’m so- I promise you- I haven’t been with anyone else since that first time. I don’t want anyone else. I only want you.” 

“Why?” You whisper, eyes wide. 

“Because. You’re you. And you’re perfect for me. And I can barely think when you’re around. And I’m literally about to have a heart attack right now.” He grabs your hand and places it on his chest, and he knows you can feel his insane heartbeat when your breath hitches. “You’re so fucking annoying. And I’m crazy about you.” 

There. He said it. 

You sniffle and before he can say anything else, your arms wrap around his waist, face burying in his heaving chest. 

“You have to believe me.” He’s close to begging now, breathing unstable, but he holds you close anyway, arms circling around your shoulders, nose nuzzling in your wet hair. 

“I believe you.” You whisper in his chest. “I’m sorry I didn’t-” 

“Don’t apologise.” He cuts you off. “I’m the one who fucked up. I should’ve-” 

“It’s fine.” You butt in, and he smiles at how you’re both just communicating in unfinished sentences without failing to understand one another. 

“So, what now?” He tries tentatively, unsure of how to approach anything at this point. He just wants things between you to be okay. 

“I’m tired.” You mumble weakly, and he feels guilt wash over him. You probably didn’t get much sleep last night, while he cluelessly dozed off so quickly. 

“Wanna take a nap?” He suggests as his fingers thread through your hair, trying to help you relax. 

“Will you stay?” You look up at him with soft eyes, still wet from crying and there goes his aching heart again. 

“Of course, baby.” His palms tenderly cradle your face again and he melts when you stand on your tippy toes. He quickly gives into you, head dipping down slightly to give you the kiss you’re silently asking for. 

It’s soft and sweet. You taste like you and toothpaste, and he has to pull away before the innocent kiss escalates into something else. “Come on, let’s get you in bed.” 

Once you’re both under your cosy blanket, he lets you rest your head on his chest, arm around your shoulders, one hand stroking your hair, the other tangled with yours, holding them close to his chest, over his now steady heartbeat. Your breathing gradually slows down and when he’s sure you’re asleep, he takes his phone out of his pocket, quickly unlocking it and opening his chat with Yuna. He sends the text without even thinking it over and sighs as he sets his phone down on your bedside table. 

He smiles as he inhales your familiar scent, his eyes closing in contentment as he keeps repeating the words he just typed out, in his head. Particularly the second sentence. 

Can’t see you anymore. I have a girlfriend. 

And yeah, he's yet to ask you properly, but at the end of the day, you’re his girl. And it can’t get any deeper than that. 

©neogotmycookie

taglist: @fancypeacepersona, @miauumin, @hi00000234567, @leehaechie, @0423luvbot, @yoonohswife, @lovesuhng, @slightlyunhingedsagittarius, @813ths, @m8rkers, @bluedbliss, @zhapire, @focusonyeri, @inthearcade, @papichulomacy, @wispyharmony, @floraljae, @honeybeehorizon, @abcdefuvk, @cxralrxses, @tteokbelly, @jaehyunpeachyy, @kissyfacekoo, @juniper-flour

[vnti-vnxiety-recs]

Not! The Norm (M)

★ PAIRING: sociallyawkward!semi-agoraphobic!Reader x Neighbor!Jeno

☆ WORD COUNT: 13.9k~

★ GENRE(S): strangers to friends, friends to lovers, slow burn, fluff, smut

☆ SUMMARY: You move to a new city, hoping the change will help you get out of your comfort zone. When you meet your neighbor Jeno, he ends up becoming a friend who turns your world upside down.

★ ☆ WARNINGS: unprotected sex, drinking, drunken recklessness, MDNI, 18+

☆★ NOTES: I’m sorry to announce that this is probably the last fic I’ll ever write lowkey. I’m going back to college and haven’t really felt the motivation to write lately. I won’t be deactivating my account, and my ask box will still be open if you want to chat but response might be slow TT. I made sure to write this one with love. Thanks for all the support!

𓅰 𓅬 𓅭 𓅮 𓅯𓅰 𓅬 𓅭 𓅮 𓅯𓅰 𓅬 𓅭 𓅮 𓅯𓅰 𓅬 𓅭 𓅮 𓅯𓅰 𓅬 𓅭 𓅮 𓅯𓅰 𓅬

Your life was simple. Work, sleep, eat. Rinse and repeat. Day after day, it was the same unchanging cycle, and strangely, you didn’t mind. There was a comfort in the predictability, a sense of stability that kept everything steady. This routine might have been repetitive, but it was reliable and safe. For as long as you could remember, you had lived by a quiet motto: Simplicity is security.

You didn’t go out much, only if absolutely necessary. Your hobbies were mostly indoor activities like reading, drawing, playing video games, or sewing small projects. The only thing that kept you from the comfort of your home most days was your job, but even that was about to change. You had recently been hired for a  work from home position that paid more than your previous job. When you found out that the new role would require you to move to a different town, you didn’t feel even a flicker of hesitation. Some might have called you a shut-in, but you saw it differently. To you, it was about protecting your peace

The day you moved in the neighborhood was quiet. Your apartment was tucked away on a cozy corner of the street. It was within walking distance of a small shopping center just a few blocks away, making errands convenient without the hustle and bustle. The apartment was a massive building that looked like it had seen better days. It resembled an old dormitory, its brick walls are weathered and moss creeps into the cracks. Despite its worn exterior, there was a certain character to the building. There was something warm and inviting about it.

The weather was dreary, gray clouds hung heavy in the sky threatening a light drizzle. Despite the gloom, you found yourself surprisingly upbeat.  Maybe it was the excitement of a fresh start, or perhaps it was the comfort of knowing you’d be in a familiar routine soon enough. Whatever it was, you clung to that small flicker of optimism as you carried your boxes inside.

The air inside smells faintly of old wood and dust. The wear and tear were evident. The paint on the wooden trim was peeling, and in some spots, the stairs bore dents and scratches where footsteps had worn down the wood over the years. 

You sat the last box from the U-Haul down with a satisfying thud. your arms aching from the day's work.The building had no elevators. Instead it just had a large, winding staircase that spiraled from the ground floor up to the upper levels. When you first received the keys to your apartment, you’d immediately complained about the lack of an elevator. The landlord had simply shrugged and explained that the old elevators had been deemed a hazard. The maintenance team had decided they were too risky to repair, so they’d been walled off and left untouched.

You breathe out a sigh, wiping your brow as you toss your keys onto the small table near the door. Your shoulders slump as you peel off your jacket, letting it fall to the floor. “I’ll return the U-Haul tomorrow,” you think with a quiet resignation. You have done enough today.

You settle onto the cool wooden planks of your walkway, stretching out on your back to cool down after the long day. Your eyelids flutter as fatigue sinks in. Just as you're about to drift off, faint voices drift through the open window. It sounded like playful bickering and laughter. You try to ignore it, but curiosity nudges you. You’re nosy by nature, Besides, nothing much ever happens in your quiet life. A bit of drama never hurt, especially when it’s not your own. You sit up slowly and glance outside. Through the window, you see a moving truck parked next to yours. Standing on the sidewalk is a broad-shouldered figure, patiently waiting as his smaller friend hurriedly loads boxes into his arms. You can’t see their faces, your window’s too high and the boxes obscure most of your view. You catch snippets of their voices. There is some teasing, some frustration, but mostly playful banter. You watch as they come and go, tossing boxes off the truck and joking around. Their laughter echoes softly in the quiet street.

After a few moments, you yawn and decide it’s time to retreat. You pull the blinds shut, feeling the tired ache in your feet. A long soak in the tub sounds perfect.

𓅰 𓅬 𓅭 𓅮 𓅯𓅰 𓅬 𓅭 𓅮 𓅯𓅰 𓅬 𓅭 𓅮 𓅯𓅰 𓅬 𓅭 𓅮 𓅯𓅰 𓅬 𓅭 𓅮 𓅯𓅰 𓅬

It’s been a month since you moved in. Your days have once again settled into a predictable rhythm. Work, errands, sleep, repeat. Nothing much changes, and that's exactly how you like it. 

Early the next morning, your alarm buzzes insistently on your bedside table. You reach out and swipe it silent. You sit up and stretch before you toss on something comfortable. You settle on leggings and a loose top. Today’s plan was to beat the crowd to the farmers market by getting there right when it opens.

As you lock the door behind you, a sudden sound of footsteps makes your shoulders tense. You hate small talk with a passion. The idea of awkwardly exchanging greetings with neighbors feels like an unnecessary burden. The thought of having to stand there, forcing a polite smile and exchanging meaningless greetings, makes you start to retreat. Just as you finish unlocking the door a cheerful voice calls out, stopping you in your tracks before you can slip back inside.

“Oh! Hi! I don’t think I’ve had the chance to properly introduce myself.”

 You freeze mid step and turn toward the voice

Standing there is a tall figure, someone around your age. His smile is charming,  the kind that looks like it comes easy. His eyes crinkle into crescent moons as he regards you with friendly curiosity and extends a hand.

“I’m Jeno,” he says confidently. "I just moved in down the hall."

You blink, caught off guard by his charm. For a moment, words evade you as you meet his gaze. Your grip is light and tentative as you shake his hand. You mutter out your own greeting and you think you’re speaking loud enough, but Jeno has to lean in slightly to hear you better.

“Sorry, one more time,” he says.

You chuckle nervously, clearing your throat. “Sorry, I don’t talk to people very often,” you admit, raising your voice just a bit. “I’m Y/N” 

“It’s nice to meet you. I think I’ve seen you a few times. You’re kind of hard to come by,” Jeno jokes.

“I don’t leave the house much,” you reply with a small smile, crossing your arms and shrugging. “But unfortunately, I need to go to the grocery store today.”

“Really? Same here,” Jeno says, his eyes lighting up. “I just came back upstairs to grab my wallet. Do you want to go together? I usually hit the little farmers market around the corner. What about you?”

“Me too,” you say, forcing a smile. Inside, you’re practically melting down. You’ve never talked this long to any neighbor, especially not someone as charming as him. You want to run in the opposite direction, but your not sure how to politely decline.

You walk down the stairs together, and Jeno keeps talking, but you can’t even meet his eyes. This was probably your worse nightmare come true, trapped in conversation with a really attractive guy.

“Thanks,” you murmur softly as he holds the door open for you.

Jeno nods with a warm smile and follows behind you as you step outside. The morning sun casts a gentle glow on his features. 

“So,” he begins casually.  “How long have you been living here?”

You fiddle with your keys as you walk. “It’s been about a month now,” you reply. “Not too long. I guess I’m still getting familiar with the neighborhood.”

He nods thoughtfully, glancing around. “Yeah, it’s a pretty quiet spot. Not much happens around here, but I like that. It’s a nice change of pace from where I come from.”

Curious, you glance over. “Oh, really? Where'd you move from?”

He smiles. “A bigger city. It was always so loud and crowded. When I was younger, I loved it. I was always getting into trouble. But now… I need something calmer. This neighborhood seemed like the perfect place to start fresh.”

“You’ll have to tell me some of those stories.” You say.

You were curious about Jeno, he had such a sweet face that you didn't take him as a trouble maker. The conversation flows more smoothly now that you’ve warmed up to each other. You learn that it was mainly Jeno’s friends who dragged him into trouble. They sound like a fun group they way that Jeno describes them. You can't help but laugh through most of his stories.

As you approach the corner of the next street, the distant chatter from the farmers' market grows louder. When you finally arrive at the market, you both share a small smile.

“Thanks for walking with me,” you say softly. “It was nice talking to you.”

Jeno grins. “Same here. Hopefully we’ll bump into each other again.”

You turn to head toward your own shopping. The world feels a little less ordinary today.

𓅰 𓅬 𓅭 𓅮 𓅯𓅰 𓅬 𓅭 𓅮 𓅯𓅰 𓅬 𓅭 𓅮 𓅯𓅰 𓅬 𓅭 𓅮 𓅯𓅰 𓅬 𓅭 𓅮 𓅯𓅰 𓅬

Later, you’re almost finished with your shopping, checking off the last item on your list. You put the carton of eggs in your basket when a familiar face catches your attention. Turning slightly, you see Jeno standing in the dairy aisle, examining a block of cheese. He catches your gaze with a gentle smile. ”Hey Stranger.” 

You find yourself smiling back.  Without thinking, your lips curl up into a genuine smile.

“Hi,” you reply and start fiddling with the handle of your shopping basket.

He closes the distance between you. “Are you done shopping?” he asks casually.

“Yup,” you say, glancing down at your list. “What about you?”

He nods. "Me too. How about we walk back together? I can carry all your bags, make it easier for you."

You let out a sigh, feeling a sense apprehension. The first walk wasn’t terrible, he was surprisingly pleasant company. But the thought of being alone with him again makes your stomach twist nervously. Still, you remind yourself that carrying all these groceries home alone isn’t exactly ideal either.

“Okay, let’s check out,” you decide.

As you approach the checkout line, you steal a glance at Jeno's basket. It's surprisingly empty, considering the length of your shopping trip. You're on the verge of asking where all his groceries are when you catch yourself, unsure if it would come off as rude or nosy. You bite your tongue and keep your thoughts to yourself.

Jeno steps forward, placing his meager items on the conveyor belt. He pays swiftly, then turns to you, his hands outstretched to help with your groceries.

When your turn comes to pay, Jeno beats you to it, his card already halfway through the reader. You reach for your wallet, but it's too late. He's already signed the receipt, a nonchalant smile on his face.

Your eyes widen in disbelief as you realize what he's done. Your jaw drops as you realize how much he had spent. You had put a  month's worth of groceries in your basket. Your hands shake slightly as you protest, "How could you pay for my things? That's too much!"

He waves off your concern, "It's no big deal. I don't mind at all."

"No, I need to pay you back," you insist. You hate the idea of owing anyone, and the thought of getting things for free makes you feel even worse. 

Jeno notices the seriousness in your expression and immediately softens. "Hey, you can just send me the money later," he says.

Relief washes over your shoulders, and you take a deep breath, feeling your tension ease slightly. Your shoulders relax as you nod, grateful but still feeling a bit awkward about the situation.

You make your way back to the apartment together. Once you make it home you ask Jeno for his cash app, venmo, paypal, or anything so that you could pay him back. He pauses for a beat, then pretends not to hear you. He helps you set your groceries down before he turns and walks off down the hall, leaving you standing there stunned. He had tricked you.

Jeno was an anomaly, something that shook up your daily routine. Jeno was unpredictable which made him dangerous in your eyes. Jeno was something you were not prepared for.

You don’t see Jeno for a while, choosing to stay inside most days, avoiding the outside world as much as possible. When it’s finally time to go to the market again, you pray to all the gods above that you won’t run into him. Just as you're about to head downstairs, a familiar voice calls out, “Can I join you?” 

Curse your luck.

He doesn’t even ask where you’re going, as if he already knows that you don’t leave for much other than shopping. You shake your head and keep walking, your steps steady and deliberate. Today, you really don’t want to be bothered. You’re wary of him buying your groceries again and putting you further in debt to him.

About halfway down the staircase, he calls out, confusion clear in his voice. "What’s wrong?"

You glance back at him, offering a small, polite smile. "Nothing, it's just easier to shop for myself if I go alone," you reply softly.

Jeno steps onto the middle landing, catching up to you. The sunlight from the wide window behind the staircase pours in. The window itself is tall and arched, with delicate stained glass details that catch the light and scatter tiny rainbows onto the stairs. He reaches out, his hand hovering near your waist, not touching, just trying to block your path. It's like a scene from one of the romance novels you read. 

"Listen, if it's about the last time, I'm sorry. I won't buy your groceries again if it means—" Jeno stops himself, rambling, "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I should have asked. I didn’t think you would mind.”

It did make you uncomfortable. You're not used to this kind of attention, this level of closeness, you barely knew him. You know it was probably something stupid to complain about but the act of someone doing something nice for you just to hold it over your head wasn't a foreign occurrence. You instinctively step back just a little and speak again, your voice remains gentle but firm.

"It's okay," you say quietly, avoiding his gaze. "I just prefer to do things my own way. I appreciate your concern, but I’m used to taking care of myself." 

Your words are kind but clear, signaling that you’re not ready to accept his help or his proximity just yet.

𓅰 𓅬 𓅭 𓅮 𓅯𓅰 𓅬 𓅭 𓅮 𓅯𓅰 𓅬 𓅭 𓅮 𓅯𓅰 𓅬 𓅭 𓅮 𓅯𓅰 𓅬 𓅭 𓅮 𓅯𓅰 𓅬

It doesn’t take a month this time for you to see Jeno. This time, it’s only two weeks.

You were busy playing a puzzle game on your DS when you heard the knock at your door. You groan in annoyance, your focus broken after ten minutes of trying to solve this frustrating puzzle. With a sigh, you shuffle over and crack the door open slightly, peering coldly through the crack.

Jeno stands there, a tentative smile on his face. “Hey, I’m sorry to bother you. I was wondering if you wanted to watch a movie or something?”

There he was again, asking to be in your company, as if it was nothing. He really didn't know when to give up. You’ve never known anyone to take this much interest in you. You haven’t had much experience talking to guys, you didn't really like their attention.

“They just added the new Studio Ghibli movie on Netflix,” he says, biting his lip nervously. “You mentioned it briefly the last time we walked. I thought maybe we could watch it together.”

“I love those movies,” you say, your previous annoyance fading as you think about the new Ghibli film. Your face brightens, and a genuine smile spreads across your lips.

“I just need to finish this puzzle,” you add, glancing back at the DS screen.

“Puzzle? Can I help?” Jeno asks curiously.

You nod determinedly. Two brains are better than one, and as much as you’d like to just Google the answer, you’d rather phone a friend. Without hesitation, you step aside and gesture for him to come in. He slips off his shoes by the door and sets them next to yours.

His eyes scan your quarters as you lead him into the living room. Your apartment feels warm and inviting. Plants hang from the ceiling near the kitchen window, swaying gently. You had a desk set up in the dining room space that Jeno assumed you had made into an office area. The mood lighting in the corners of the living room casts a soft, warm glow over everything. The TV is mounted on the wall opposite a small, cluttered couch with a throw blanket and pillows that leave barely enough room to sit. 

You make space for him on the couch and hand him your Nintendo DS. “Here,” you say quietly. 

He takes the device, eyes flickering between the screen and you. You lean in slightly, hopeful. “So, we have to cross through all nine dots with just four lines,” you explain.

Jeno studies the screen. He fiddles with the controls, trying to find a solution, but he doesn’t have any better luck than you. About twenty minutes pass, and both of you sit there more confused than when you started.

Finally, you sigh and admit defeat. “Let’s just Google it. I give up.”

Jeno shakes his head, determination flickering in his eyes. “No, we can do this. Believe in us. We’re so close.”

“My brain is going to melt. Can we at least try another one? I’ve been stuck on that puzzle forever,” you say, frustration creeping into your voice. The movie has been long forgotten in the back of your mind as you and Jeno sit close on the couch. You’re practically perched on his shoulder, watching him maneuver your character through the game.

Jeno continues on trying to solve the puzzle, determined to not let a game out smart him. You don’t realize how close you’ve become until Jeno finally solves the puzzle and turns to look at you with a triumphant smile on his face. You’re about a breath away but Jeno doesn’t lean away yet. The air around you feels almost magnetic, as if something wants to pull you closer. You can feel the heat crawling up your face, and your heart pounds a little faster. In your embarrassment, you're the first to look away as you shift awkwardly on the couch.

Jeno tries his best to break the tension. “Do you work from home?” Jeno asks, changing the subject. His attention was towards your office space and wondered if that was the reason you never left home.

“I do,” you reply softly, grabbing a nearby pillow to hold in your lap for comfort. “ But lately I think maybe it’s not so good for me.”

Why do you say that?” he asks, turning his body to face you, his tone gentle.

You hesitate for a moment before speaking. “Well…before, at least I was forced to interact with people. But now since I don’t leave…there’s no one. I feel like I’m growing more antisocial by the day.”

Jeno nods in understanding. “You’re not as bad at socializing as you think,” he shrugs casually.

You shake your head and sigh. “You’re just saying that.”

Jeno sets down the DS on your coffee table and scoots closer to you, his expression earnest. “Hey, I mean it. I like you,” he says seriously. His eyes suddenly widen as he realizes what he just said, but he doesn’t take it back.

You blink twice before nodding slowly. “Thank you.”

Jeno offers a nervous smile. For the first time his eyes avoid yours as he awkwardly looks around your living room, trying to find something else to talk about.

“Do you still want to watch that movie?” He asks.

You nod with a shy smile, feeling a little nervous. You’d never watched a movie alone with a guy before, and right now, the setting feels unexpectedly intimate. You were so caught up in trying to solve your puzzles that you hadn’t realized how casual this all was.

“Let me know if it gets too cold,” you say, turning on the TV and settling into the couch.

Jeno nods, and you both focus on the screen. About halfway through, he shifts slightly to get comfortable, and somehow, he ends up even closer. His thigh pressed up against yours. The warmth from his body burns and your heart skips a beat.

You almost don’t hear him when he softly asks for a pillow. You follow his finger to the pillow resting in your lap, and your brow raises in question.

“You want to cuddle with one?” you ask.

He nods, pointing at the pillow in your lap. “I want that one,” he says with a daring smile.

Your eyebrows furrow and Jeno can't help but laugh at your expression. “Come on,” he says between a chuckle. “You have like ten pillows over there.”

“Choose another,” you say stubbornly.

He chuckles, amused by your stubbornness. “So stingy,” he teases. Then, without warning, he adds, “Fine, I'll just use you.”

You’re not sure what he means at first until he lays his head on your lap, looking up at you with a smile.

There’s something quietly domestic about the scene. The way his shoes sit beside yours by the door, him fighting over your favorite pillow and now his head resting in your lap. It feels intimate and unexpectedly comforting. 

Your heart flutters, but you quickly stomp down the feeling. Nothing good ever comes  from feeling things like this. You turn your attention back to the TV and press play on the movie.

You find yourself enjoying his company more than you expected. His warmth that seeps into your skin loosening up the tension in your body. You’re grateful he hadn’t made a move, that he was just content with cuddling and laughing along with you during the funny parts of the movie. It feels safe, but most importantly, it feels right.

When the credits roll, there's a bittersweet taste in your mouth. Your time with Jeno has come to an end.

You glance down, he had taken the pillow from your lap sometime during the movie and had been fidgeting with it. He was mindlessly humming along to the song that played during the credits.

You hesitate, your heart pounding a little. “Are you leaving now?” You finally ask.

“Yeah, it’s getting late,” Jeno answers, sitting up and stretching. He stands up from the couch, a gentle smile lingering on his face. “It was nice hanging out with you today.”

You sit up a little too quickly at that. “Can we hang out again?” you blurt out, immediately cringing at how eager you sound. 

Jeno’s expression softens. “Of course we can,” he says.

His hand reaches out toward your face, and for a moment, you think he’s about to pull you into a kiss. Instead, he picks something out of your hair. “Sorry, there was a lint,” he says casually.

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, and a small, relieved laugh escapes. “Thank you,” you say softly, your voice trembling slightly as you manage a shy smile.

You walk him to the door and bid him farewell.

You stand there for a moment after he leaves. Your heart was pounding with that familiar, annoying flutter in your chest. A flicker of fear rises in you. You couldn’t fall in love with Jeno. Love hurt, and you already carried enough scars to last a lifetime.

𓅰 𓅬 𓅭 𓅮 𓅯𓅰 𓅬 𓅭 𓅮 𓅯𓅰 𓅬 𓅭 𓅮 𓅯𓅰 𓅬 𓅭 𓅮 𓅯𓅰 𓅬 𓅭 𓅮 𓅯𓅰 𓅬

You’re in your apartment’s lobby, checking your mail when you hear the door open and close noisily. You look up, and your heart is immediately stolen. Sitting comfortably in Jeno’s arms is a fluffy white puppy. 

"Aw, how cute," you coo, hurrying closer. In your excitement, you completely forget about checking your mail, leaving your keys in the mailbox and the little door ajar.

Jeno smiles at you, “I prefer handsome, but cute works too,” he says jokingly .

You laugh at the quip before focusing back on the adorable puppy in his arms. “What’s his name?”

“Hayan,” he tells you with a soft smile. “He’s my friend’s dog. I’m just watching him while he’s out of town.” He shrugs. “I'm more of a cat person.”

“Hi, Hayan!” you coo. “What does his name mean? Hayan?” you ask, tilting your head curiously at Jeno.

“Just means ‘white,’” he says with a shrug.

“Very creative,” you tease, grinning.

“I didn’t name him,” he says defensively.

You smile warmly and shake your head. “Well, I don’t want to hold you up. Sorry to keep you,” you say. Your eyes linger on the puppy.

Jeno knows you well enough to sense you’re just giving him an out. “It’s always a pleasure to talk to you, you know that, right?” He chuckles. “Do you want to come over and hang out with him?”

Your face lights up, and you nod enthusiastically, already starting to make your way toward the stairs. Jeno calls out after you, “Your mail!”

You glance down at the mail in your hand and shrug. “What about it?”

He points with a small laugh, “Your keys are still in your mailbox.”

Your cheeks flush with embarrassment, and you quickly walk over to retrieve your keys, locking the mailbox. “Sorry, I got distracted,” you mumble.

Jeno shakes his head, “Come on.” The puppy in his arms yawning cutely as it falls back asleep on his chest.

The juxtaposition of the sight was stirring something deep inside you. Jeno’s strong arms and broad chest surrounding the small puppy. The way he held Hayan so carefully, so protectively, made your stomach flutter. You found yourself yearning for Jeno to be wrapped around you like that. 

You walk up the stairs side by side, your gaze flickering back to the adorable puppy whose peaceful face and tiny yawn make your heart soften. Once you reach the door, Jeno digs into his pocket for his keys, and you wait in anticipation. You had always wondered what Jeno’s place looked like.

“Wanna hold him while I get the door open?” Jeno asks.

You nod happily. You carefully take Hayan from Jeno’s arms, pressing a soft kiss onto the puppy’s fluffy head and petting him gently. Jeno opens the door, and you walk into his living room, placing your mail on the coffee table. Your eyes drift around his apartment, analyzing everything to get a better look into Jeno’s life. Jeno’s home smells of amber and something woody. The layout is identical to yours but the vibe was completely different. There’s a soft, plush rug covering the wooden floor and a comfortable looking couch sits on top of it. A bookshelf lines one wall, filled with a mix of manga, novels, and little trinkets. You look at all of the small souvenirs and photos that hint at his interests and personal life. 

You settle onto the couch. Hayan is still sleepy, and begins to doze off on your lap. His tiny paws and nose twitch adorably as he dreams. You don’t want to disturb his nap, so you sit perfectly still. Jeno just smiles softly before walking into the kitchen.

 “Are you thirsty?” Jeno asks casually as he gets a water bottle from the fridge.

You shake your head. Jeno shrugs, “I’m going to hit the shower. You can stay as long as you want,” he says before heading down the hall.

As he leaves, your eyes drift back around the apartment. You couldn't do much else, your phone was in your back pocket and you didn’t want to risk stirring Hayan. You occupy yourself with committing Jeno’s apartment to memory. Your gaze lands on a photo on his side table. It’s of him with a woman, both of them around the same age. Your heart sinks slightly, and you pick up the photo to get a closer look. You hope it’s his sister as you examine the image. Your eyes are drawn to Jeno first. You study him closely. His full lips, pretty eyes, and that charming mole under his eye have you under spells. 

Then your gaze shifts to the woman. She’s pretty. A twinge of jealousy flares in your chest, and you quickly look away, feeling suddenly self-conscious. You tell yourself you have no right to feel this way, but the emotion lingers stubbornly. Your mind creates all sorts of scenarios in your head as it tries to make sense of it all. Your eyes trail back to Jeno’s photo, and just as you wonder how long you’ve been staring, you hear the bathroom door open. Heart pounding, you hurriedly put the photo back where you found it. In your haste, you wake Hayan. He looks up at you with sleepy eyes and lets out a soft yawn.

Jeno walks into the room, laughing softly. “He’s still sleepy? This babysitting gig will be a breeze,” he jokes. He walks closer, crouching down to gently pet the sleeping puppy. “He must have been so tired,” Jeno murmurs, softly stroking Hayan in your lap.

He’s on his knees in front of you, and when he looks up, your eyes lock. His arms rest beside your thighs on the couch, boxing you in. The way his eyes shine as he gazes at you makes your breath catch. His hair is still damp from the shower, slightly dripping, and he smells like honey.

Your eyes drift to his lips. Full and tempting, just like in the photo. You take in each of his features, committing everything to memory. Without thinking, your hand reaches out, and your thumb brushes softly against the mole under his eye.  Your mind is in a haze and you don’t realize how close you’ve gotten. Suddenly you can feel his breath against your lips. Had he moved closer without you noticing? He licked his lips, and the way they shimmered with moisture made your breath hitch unexpectedly. The closer he got the slower time felt, almost like you were trapped in molasses. You felt a shy brush of his lips against yours. 

Hayan sneezes loudly, breaking the moment. He jumps down from your lap and trots off to find somewhere else to nap. Startled, you pull away from Jeno completely. You quickly readjust your position on the couch and avert your, focusing on anything but Jeno. Suddenly, you felt his hand take yours. He wasn’t going to let you run away this time. He carefully brought your fingertips to his lips, kissing each one softly while maintaining eye contact. He looked like he wanted to eat you alive.

You were short-circuiting. Was this real life? Your heart felt like it could leap out of your chest. Jeno noticed the stunned look on your face and held his gaze, a quiet smirk playing on his lips. He was glad you couldn’t look away. He rarely got the chance to see you this close and he was savoring every second of it. You were effortlessly beautiful and he couldn’t get you out of his head. 

He gave you a mischievous smile, one you hadn’t seen from him very often. Deciding to take mercy on you, he slowly stood to his full height and backed off. With a playful glint in his eyes he dropped the wet towel on your head. The dampness made you cringe, and you swiped it off, tossing it back at him. 

“You’re so gross,” you muttered, trying to hide your blush.

“Don’t be dramatic,” he rolled his eyes playfully. “I only used it on my hair.” He settled down next to you on the couch.

You gather your composure, trying your best to act normal. “How long is Hayan going to be here?” you ask nervously, fidgeting with your nails to distract yourself from everything that had just happened.

“Until Friday,” Jeno replies. “You can come over as much as you want. I wouldn’t mind the extra company. Plus it looks like he already likes you.”

A bright smile spreads across your face. “I’d love to help!”

He nods. “I get home around 6 on weekdays. You can come then, if that works.”

“What if I take care of him while you’re at work?”

Jeno pauses, considering it. “That sounds like a good idea, but I hate to get you wrapped up in my responsibilities.”

You shrug. “Well, I work from home and don’t do much all day, so I don’t mind,” you add, eager to sell the idea now that it’s been proposed.

Jeno nods thoughtfully. “I don’t see why not.” After a few beats of silence, a look of curiosity passes over his face. “You seem to really like animals. Why don’t you have any pets?”

“Well, for starters, I live in a pretty small apartment, and I don’t go outside enough to officially get a dog.” Your eyes widen. “But don’t worry, I’ll make sure I take Hayan out!” You reassure him even though he probably didn’t doubt you for a second.

“What about a cat?”

“Hm, I’d still feel bad keeping him cooped up inside all day,” you reply with a shrug.

Jeno grins. “Well, that’s okay. You’ve got me! I’ll be your pet,” he jokes.

Your face flushes, and Jeno smiles back. For a moment, you think he’s doing this on purpose. There’s no way he doesn’t know exactly what he’s doing to you.

Feeling a little bolder, you reach out and grab the collar of his shirt in revenge. “Gonna let me walk you too?” you tease, and for once, Jeno is the one caught off guard. His cheeks turn bright red, probably the reddest you’ve ever seen. Satisfaction bubbles up inside you, this was a small victory after the little stunt he pulled earlier.

You laugh softly, and a genuine smile begins to spread across Jeno’s face. A peaceful silence settles between you two for a moment before Jeno speaks again. His eyes search yours. “Do you ever get lonely?”

You pause, thinking deeply before answering. "I'm used to it," you admit, your voice low. "As you could guess, I don't have many real friends. The only other friends I have are online, so...I guess that counts, right?" You let out a small, hollow laugh. "I wish I was more outgoing, but I'm scared. I'm scared of meeting new people, and I'm terrible at socializing. It used to be lonely, but I've gotten used to it."

Jeno reaches out, his expression gentle. You feel a flutter in your chest as his hand brushes against yours. "You shouldn't be," he says softly.

You look down, a soft blush rising to your cheeks as you fidget with your hands. "It's not all bad, I guess," you say glancing up at Jeno. "And yeah, it means a lot that you're here and that you care. It's...it's a big deal for me."

“I’ll always be here.”

𓅰 𓅬 𓅭 𓅮 𓅯𓅰 𓅬 𓅭 𓅮 𓅯𓅰 𓅬 𓅭 𓅮 𓅯𓅰 𓅬 𓅭 𓅮 𓅯𓅰 𓅬 𓅭 𓅮 𓅯𓅰 𓅬

Jeno knocks on your door early the next morning, before work, and drops off Hayan along with everything you'll need to take care of him. Usually, you’re used to seeing Jeno in his casual clothes with his fluffy hair slightly tousled.  But today, he’s dressed sharply in a sleek black dress shirt tucked into tailored slacks and he has a heavy watch shining on his wrist. His hair is slicked back smoothly, with a few strands curled in softly on his forehead, giving him a charismatic look. 

He’s off to work, but there’s a lingering look in his eyes. You find yourself wishing you could keep him to yourself today, just a little longer. You feel like a doting wife sending her husband off to work, all that’s missing is him leaning in to kiss your cheek before he leaves.

“Have a good day at work,” you call out, watching him turn and head down the hall.

You take Hayan inside and you’re excited to not be alone all day for once. You spend hours taking calls for your job, playing with Hayan in between calls. During lunch, you pause to take Hayan for a walk and to get some fresh air. You capture a few funny videos on your phone, your favorite was of Hayan sitting by a flower bed and a butterfly landing on his nose. He freezes, eyes wide in wonder, before suddenly jumping up, making the butterfly flutter away. You couldn't wait to show Jeno later.

You were in such a great mood that later you decided to take Hayan to the local park. You had to work up the courage but once you saw Hayan having the time of his life it was worth it. 

As the evening settles in, Jeno arrives to pick up Hayan. He settles onto your couch, sleeves rolled up, shoes kicked off and hair a tousled mess. It was a stark contrast to his sharp, polished appearance from earlier that morning. He sits close, and you can smell the remainder of his cologne on him. You would drown in his scent if you could. 

You showed him the funny videos you had taken of Hayan. “He's so cute!” you laugh softly, your heart melting at the sight. “He’s a lot like you, you know.” You add.

Jeno gives you a smug look. "You think I'm cute?" he asks, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

You’d gotten a little used to his teasing, so you nudge him and roll your eyes. "Not in that way, dork."

Jeno looks playfully disappointed, then tilts his head in confusion. At that moment, you swear you've seen Hayan do the same thing. “Then, how so?” Jeno asks.

“Well, for starters, you kinda act alike,” you explain, reaching over to run your fingers through Jeno’s messy hair absentmindedly. Jeno leans into your touch without hesitation, closing his eyes briefly. “And you sort of look like him. I just can’t quite put my finger on it,” you finish.

Jeno tries to stifle a yawn. Your touch is so soothing, it feels like home. “You think so?” he asks groggily, resting his head on your shoulder.

“Yeah,” you whisper and rest your head against his.

The scene is picture perfect. Hayan is asleep comfortably on your lap and Jeno is resting  against your shoulder. In that moment, you realize just how lonely you’ve been. You don’t think you could go back to that cold emptiness.

𓅰 𓅬 𓅭 𓅮 𓅯𓅰 𓅬 𓅭 𓅮 𓅯𓅰 𓅬 𓅭 𓅮 𓅯𓅰 𓅬 𓅭 𓅮 𓅯𓅰 𓅬 𓅭 𓅮 𓅯𓅰 𓅬

Before, your days would blur together in a never-ending cycle of waking up, going to work, eating, and sleeping. You never realized how lonely it was until you met Jeno. Now, your days are filled with laughter, smiles, games, and a light you’ve never seen in the world before. The sky seems bluer and more vast, the air feels crisper as you breathe it in, and the sun shines brighter. Honestly, it scares you because it could all vanish in the blink of an eye. What if Jeno moves away? Or he gets a girlfriend and can’t spend time with you anymore? What if he only felt sorry for you all along, and you were just too foolish to see it?

You try not to think about it too much, your eyes drifting over the pile of puzzle pieces spread across Jeno’s floor. You had come over after work, and he surprised you with a new puzzle. He usually gives up on them pretty quickly but you loved putting them together. You had been working in silence, your brain deciding to think of fucked up scenarios to torment you. You nervously chew on your bottom lip to try to calm your nerves.

You hadn’t even noticed how tense you were until Jeno came over and kneeled beside you. You pull yourself out of your daze and look up at him. His thumb moved softly, tracing along your lips before he gently pulled your bottom lip free from between your teeth.

He massaged the flesh with his thumb for a moment, then slowly let go. “What’s wrong?”

You sat up and crossed your legs, you could see the worry etched into his expression. You licked your bottom lip and winced, your teeth had bitten into it too deep and split the skin.

“Sorry, it’s just a bad habit I have when I’m focusing,” you whisper.

“Liar,” Jeno says easily, sitting back on his hands. “You think I don’t know you.” There was no questioning in his voice, only certainty. “Something’s bothering you.”

Jeno’s eyes saw everything. They could spot every change in your expression and notice any shift in your behavior. Right now, you weren’t sure if that annoyed you or not. 

“I just really like spending time with you,” you say softly, your eyes drifting back to the pile of puzzle pieces as you continue fitting them together. “And sometimes, I get a little sad.”

“Why does that make you sad?” Jeno asks in confusion. 

You can’t bring yourself to meet his eye. “Because all good things eventually come to an end,” you whisper.

His voice is quiet when he speaks again. “Hey. Look at me.”

You stubbornly keep your focus on the puzzle. You’re afraid to meet his gaze because you know that if you do, your walls will come crashing down, and the tears you've been holding back will spill over.

“Y/N,” he repeats your name softly, as if it’s the most fragile thing in the world, like it’s made of glass. “Please.”

Taking a deep breath, you finally glance up at him. When your eyes meet, you see understanding and compassion. 

“You mean the world to me,” he says softly. “I enjoy spending every single day with you. I can’t imagine my life without you.”  The way he’s looking at you takes your breath away. For a moment, you believe maybe he could love you.

Your heart soars. It’s as if you could fly. Everything he just said matches how you feel about him, how you’ve felt all along. 

“You always know exactly what to say,” you say with a small smile.

“Of course,” Jeno says triumphantly, a proud smile spreading across his face. He’s happy he managed to bring your smile back to its rightful place. “You’re my best friend.”

It shouldn’t hurt when he says that, but it does. Obviously Jeno was your friend, that had been long established but for a second you believed he thought of you as more than that.  The smile on your face wavers just a little. But before Jeno can address it, Hayan suddenly bounds over and jumps onto your puzzle, sending pieces flying everywhere. Both you and Jeno startle, laughing at the chaos. You’re grateful for the distraction, and you’re glad the laugh that escapes is genuine because honestly, you didn’t want to think about the millions of pieces your heart just shattered into.

Once everything settles, and Jeno helps you clean up the puzzle, the room remains quiet. Hayan curls up contently in his dog bed, feeling satisfied after causing a little destruction. 

Jeno is the first to break the silence. “Are you hungry? I can make dinner,” he asks hopefully.

You love Jeno’s cooking, and you always enjoyed playing sous chef while he bustled around the kitchen. But tonight, you needed to be away from him, even if just for a little while. 

“No, I’m kind of tired already,” you lie. “I think I’m going to head back over to my place.”

Jeno’s face falls slightly, and he looks like a kicked puppy. The sight of it twists the knife in your chest even more, but you know if you stayed, things would only become more awkward.  

Jeno nods and walks you to the door. Just before you reach the threshold, he hesitates for a moment. “I forgot to ask but do you want to go to dinner on Friday? I’m inviting some friends, and I think it would be fun if you came.”

You hesitate to answer so Jeno offers you a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry. It’ll only be a few people, and you don’t have to stay the whole time if you don’t want to.

Let me sleep on it?” you ask.

He nods. “Let me know. I’d really love to see you there.”

𓅰 𓅬 𓅭 𓅮 𓅯𓅰 𓅬 𓅭 𓅮 𓅯𓅰 𓅬 𓅭 𓅮 𓅯𓅰 𓅬 𓅭 𓅮 𓅯𓅰 𓅬 𓅭 𓅮 𓅯𓅰 𓅬

The music was loud, and the place reeked of stale booze. The bar you were sitting at was sticky, and you were feeling beyond overstimulated. Where was Jeno during all this? You wish you could say you didn't know but your eyes kept drifting to him and you couldn’t look away. For the last thirty minutes you had watched him, he was dancing with the same girl who had his attention since dinner.

The night hadn’t started bad, Jeno had been right, the dinner was fun. You met a lot of his friends, and they were warm, welcoming and a little rambunctious, just as Jeno had described them in his stories. Jaemin, Renjun, Yuna, and Haechan sat around the dinner table, taking turns sharing embarrassing stories about Jeno. You thought it was cute how they teased Jeno. You had never seen him get so flustered. It was enjoyable, until Haechan suggested going bar hopping. Everyone seemed excited by the idea, and you didn’t want to be a downer. When Jeno shot you a hesitant look before answering, you gave him a confident nod. You’d learned over the past few months that sometimes, it was good to step out of your comfort zone. So you put on a brave face and gave it a try.

You all were about to split up in the parking lot, agreeing to meet at the closest bar, until a girl approached your group. After a quick introduction, you realize you have seen her before. She was the girl from the photo, the one Jeno had framed in his living room. Apparently she was one of his childhood friends. She quickly explains that she had been running late and missed dinner. She introduced herself as Sasha. You complimented her outfit and got to know her fairly quickly.  

She rode with you and Jeno to the bar, she had taken the passenger seat and left you sitting alone in the back. Jeno and Sasha laughed and rambled on without you. You wanted to join in and not feel so awkward, but they were talking about old memories, ones that you were obviously not a part of. You shrugged it off, telling yourself they were probably eager to catch up.

You finally arrive at the bar and walk beside Jeno. You’re about to reach out and take his hand to avoid getting separated inside when suddenly, someone rammed into you. You stumble to the side and you look up to see Sasha’s apologetic smile as she slips past you. She intertwines her fingers with Jeno’s, pulling him behind her with a confident air around her. Jeno’s eyes widen in surprise before he glances back at you in concern. His brow furrows as he quickly checks if you’re okay. You manage a small smile, offering a shrug and a fake nonchalance, pretending it didn’t bother you even as your chest tightens slightly.

Jeno’s other friends are kind enough to look out for you and offer to stick together inside the bar. Feeling a bit more grounded, you instinctively latch onto a girl named Yuna’s side for support and watch pathetically as Sasha drags Jeno into the crowded bar.

And that’s how you found yourself exactly where you were now.

“You're not going to ask him to dance?” Yuna says after ordering another shot at the bar.

“He seems pretty busy,” you reply sarcastically, rolling your eyes.

Yuna shakes her head with a knowing smile. “You know he’d drop everything to be next to you, right?” she says and you whip around to face her.

“If you’re just trying to make me feel better you don’t have to lie,” you huff, annoyed.

The bartender slides Yuna her shot, and she downs it in one gulp, making a face at the bitter taste before turning her attention back to you.

“Whatever. Sit and mope all you want,” she shrugs, then pushes off the bar and heads toward the dance floor.

You stare daggers at her back, then turn back to the drink you’d been nursing all night. Renjun catches your eye from further down the bar and gives you an apologetic smile as he approaches.  

“People tend to make that face after Yuna talks to them,” he says softly. “I’m usually the one who has to come and fix it. Please tell me she didn’t say anything rude?”

You shrug it off with a small smile. “No, nothing like that. She’s right. I can’t really fault her for it.” You meant it. Yuna was real and confident, she didn’t care if people couldn’t handle it. You admired that about her. You had talked to her a lot during the dinner and she was everything you weren’t. You wanted to be fierce like her someday. 

“From the look on your face, she probably told you to stop with the ‘kicked puppy’ act and go get what you want.”  Renjun chuckles and takes a sip of his drink.

Your cheeks flush with embarrassment. Did everyone know you had feelings for Jeno?

“Is it really that obvious?”

“Unfortunately, yes. But luckily, Jeno’s an idiot and probably hasn’t caught on,” Renjun says with a teasing smile.

Your eyes drift back to the way Jeno dances with Sasha. “They look perfect together.”

“If it’s Sasha you’re worried about, those two broke up a long time ago,” Renjun offers, trying to lift your spirits.

You shoot him a surprised look. “Wait, they dated?” If you didn’t feel like shit before, you definitely felt worse now.

It was obvious he still had feelings for her. The way he danced with her, the way he looked at her. He even still had a picture of them together in his living room. Watching them, you finally chugged the alcohol that had been resting between your palms all night.

Renjun shrugs. “Yeah, but it was a long time ago. They’re just friends now.”

“Well, she seems like she wants to be more than friends again,” you say, signaling to the bartender for another drink. When it arrives, you don’t hesitate, you down it quickly.

“You don’t have to be scared. What’s the worst that could happen if you confess? You know the saying that goes “It's better to have loved and lost than never to love at all’?” Renjun prompts, making you laugh bitterly.

“I can’t risk losing Jeno. I can’t ruin what we have. Besides, I’ll never be brave enough to confess,” you say.

Renjun shakes his head. “Well… then, think of it this way. Would you rather lose Jeno knowing you tried, or lose him to someone else without ever saying a word?” His eyes meet yours. “The choice is yours.”

You swirl the straw in your drink, letting his words sink in as you contemplate them.

“Those who love don’t let themselves be ruled by fear,” Renjun continues softly. “They know it’s scary, and they know it will hurt. But they find the courage to love anyway. You’re scared of getting hurt and that’s okay. Because courage is what comes after fear.”

“Then I guess I’m just a coward,” you say, your voice tinged with bitterness. “Fear’s what’s kept me safe all this time. I’m okay with being scared. I’m used to being alone, and I don’t really need love. I’ve gotten this far without it.”

“But are you really living?” Renjun asks.

You bristle at his words, and suddenly, your mind spirals. He was right, he saw right through you. You'd just been getting by, day by day, nothing more than surviving.

Food, water, and shelter. That’s all you needed to survive.

But love, that’s what you needed to truly live.

You take a long swig of your drink, hoping the burn of alcohol will distract you from the tears that burn behind your eyelids. 

You’ve never gotten this drunk before, and the way the liquor mixes with the chaos of your emotions feels dangerous. You stand from the bar, and Renjun’s hands shoot out to steady you, but you shrug him off.  

“I’m fine,” you insist.

“Maybe I should get Jeno to take you home,” he suggests cautiously.

At his words, your eyes drift back toward the dance floor. A part of you wants to believe Renjun and Yuna. Maybe Jeno could have feelings for you, but the more logical side doubts it.

In the end he’s dancing with her, not you.

You tell Renjun you’re headed to the bathroom, but the truth is, you’re leaving. You don’t know where you’re going, but you can’t be in this dingy bar a second longer.  

Without saying goodbye, you slip out and start walking down the street. It’s probably a forty-minute walk to your place, but the cold, fresh air offers you a strange solace, and the stars above provide silent companionship.

About fifteen minutes into your walk, your phone buzzed loudly in your pocket. You ignored it, sinking deeper into your thoughts and letting everything you’d been feeling toward Jeno over the past few months come bubbling to the surface. Love, then fear, then sadness. It was like a never ending cycle and it was exhausting.

You remembered what Renjun said at the bar and realized he was right. It was pathetic to keep living in fear like this. If you didn’t muster the courage to truly live, you’d just die alone.

You spot a park up ahead off to the side of the road. You had worn heels for the first time in a long time tonight and your feet were killing you. You steady yourself and carefully make your way across the wood chips, trying not to kick up any and get them caught in your heels. 

Finally, you reached the swings and sat down heavily. You were still heavily intoxicated and at first the quiet, rundown park offered a strange comfort. That was until you stared at the playground through your drunken haze, your mind began to distort things. Shadows seemed to hide inside the tunnel slide, ghosts haunted the swingset, and worse, you imagined a killer lurking in the woods behind you.

The longer you sit outside in the middle of the night, the more you regret the idea of walking home. A fresh wave of tears wash over you. You were drunk and alone, and you hadn’t realized how cold it had gotten. The alcohol had kept you warm, but now as the buzz faded, the chill of the night seeped into your bones making you shiver.

You reach into your pocket to grab your phone, but before you can dial Jeno’s number, you're blinded by the headlights of a car. You raise your arm to shield your eyes, squinting through the glare as the car door finally swings open. A figure steps out, and you strain your eyes to discern who it is.  

Are you out of your mind?!” a voice yells out.  

You recognize it as Jeno’s, but the tone is unfamiliar. His tone is sharp and almost angry. For as long as you’ve known him, he’s never raised his voice at you like that before. You hear the wood chips crunch under his feet as he storms toward you, grabbing your forearm and yanking you up from the swing set. You stumble to your feet, caught off guard. 

He does a quick once over of your body from head to toe, searching for any cuts or bruises. When he seems satisfied that you’re unharmed, his shoulders sag in relief. He takes a deep breath, closes his eyes briefly, then reopens them but his expression is still tense.  

“What do you think you’re doing?” he asks. You could hear the strain in his voice as he tried to stay calm.  

“I was going home,” you respond as if it were obvious. What little alcohol is still in your system makes you unusually fearless. Is this how Yuna feels all the time?

He leans in, inhaling sharply, and smells your breath. “You’re drunk.” he states, disbelief evident.  

You shrug off his grip on your forearm and glare at him. “Of course I’m drunk, Jeno! You took me to a bar! What was I supposed to do?”  

“If you were ready to go home, you should have come to get me,” he snaps, frustration bubbling up.

“And what? Interrupt all the fun you were having? Don’t act like you’re so concerned about me now!”  

“Do you have any idea what could have happened to you? Do you think this is a game? You don’t just wander off like that!”  

“Stop acting like you care! All night has just been you and Sasha. You haven’t said a word to me since we entered the bar!” 

You’re in each other’s faces at this point, and you never thought it would be possible to be this angry with Jeno.

Jeno runs his hands down his face, sighing heavily. “I’m not having this conversation right now. It’s cold, and I need to get you home,” he says exhausted. 

“No! I’m not going with you,” you reply stubbornly, standing your ground.  

You don’t know why you’re acting this way. You were just about to call him before he showed up, but now that he’s here, all the feelings you thought you had under control start to surge to the surface. You couldn’t bear to be near him anymore. You start marching away from the park and head back toward the main road. You were determined to put as much distance as possible between you and everything else

You hear the sound of the passenger car door opening and the last voice you wanted to hear tonight speaks.  

“Where is she going?” Sasha called out.

“Just get back in the car,” Jeno responds, voice tense, as he begins to stalk after you.

Now, you’re mad and embarrassed. Sasha just saw you having a yelling match with Jeno after acting like a wet rag all night. She’s probably happy you’re jealous. The gravel crunches beneath his footsteps as he walks after you, calling your name. You hear Sasha call out again, equally frustrated.

“Y/N, come on! This isn’t funny. What’s your deal?” Sasha barks from her spot next to the car.

“I said wait in the car!” Jeno yells behind you.

You don’t dare look back. Stubbornly, you keep walking, your high heels clacking unsteadily against the narrow shoulder of the road. Cars pass too close for comfort and  their headlights are almost blinding but you don’t care. You’re being reckless but your feet refuse to stop. The embarrassment weighs heavy on your chest, and you’re too humiliated to face Jeno right now.

“No! She’s so annoying. It’s too cold for this,” Sasha mutters from behind in frustration.

You roll your eyes at her words, ignoring the sting they carry.  

Jeno calls out to you again, voice pleading. “Y/N, wait!”  

“Jeno, leave me al—” Suddenly, your knee buckles beneath you and the heel of your shoe snaps with a sharp crack. You try to catch your balance, but you’re a stumbling mess. You fall sideways, tumbling down the ditch beside the road.  

You squeeze your eyes shut tight as you feel yourself rolling down the slope while mud and leaves scrape against your skin. Your body hits the bottom with a dull thud, and everything blurs together. All you could feel was the cold, the dirt, and the sting of pain.  

Above you, muffled curses and hurried footsteps grow louder. Jeno and Sasha rush over, their faces etched with concern.  

“Shit,” Jeno mutters, voice tight.  

“Are you okay?” Sasha asks, her tone a little softer now.

You struggle to get to your feet, but you wince as pain shoots through your ankle.  

“I—I don’t think I can get out on my own,” you admit guiltily, bitterness choking your voice. You berate yourself silently. How stupid, how reckless. Now you’re stuck in this ditch, needing help from Sasha and Jeno to get back up.  

The ditch is deep, with a steep slope that, under normal circumstances, you could have managed to run up. But with your injury, it’s impossible. You watch Sasha unlatch her heels and kick them off with a faint glare.  

“Don’t look at me like that,” she snaps, eyes narrowing. “I may not like you all that much, but I’m not a bitch.”  

Without hesitation, Sasha and Jeno make their way down the hill bickering all the while helping you up. You lean heavily on both of them, one arm around Sasha, the other around Jeno. You finally manage to stand and look between their faces. Sasha's jaw was tense, while Jeno's eyes showed concern.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, voice trembling. “I should have listened.” Your voice trails off in shame. 

Jeno’s eyes soften, and he shakes his head slowly. “Save it. It was an accident.”  

Sasha remained silent for a moment before she clears her throat. She speaks quietly but firmly. 

“I know I’ve been harsh, but that doesn’t mean I want to see you get hurt. You’re not stupid you’re just drunk and tired. I’ve been there and I've seen Jeno do worse so don't beat yourself up.” Her voice isn’t cold anymore, it's just honest. 

Jeno looks over at her with a small, proud smile. She offers a small smile, but before it can fully develop, it's replaced by her usual guarded expression.  

Once you're back on the pavement, Jeno lifts you into his arms, carrying you bridal style. You instinctively rest your head against his chest, feeling safe in his strong hold. Sasha walks ahead, rubbing her arms for warmth. She was eager to reach the car and escape the cold.

“Are you jealous?” Jeno asks, breaking the silence. His voice is sincere and almost curious. “Is that what this is about? You’re jealous of Sasha?”

You glance away, voice small and uncertain. “I’m not jealous,” you mumble, feeling exposed.

Jeno chuckles softly, "You can't hide it from me. I know you, remember? I know you can't look people in the eye when you lie, and you can't hold your liquor to save your life." He pauses, then adds, "And I know you think I have feelings for Sasha, but you're wrong."

“Then why dance with her all night long? Why ignore me?” Your voice grows stronger, laced with hurt.

"We were just catching up. I didn't mean to leave you alone, especially after I invited you. I'm sorry."

“You know how I feel tho… I was out of my element and you left me alone,” your voice waivers.

Jeno’s face softens. “I’m really sorry.”

 Suddenly, Sasha’s voice interrupts, echoing down the road, “Can we go now?!” Sasha yells impatiently, before rolling up the window and sinking back into the seat.

Jeno laughs fondly, "Sasha's not so bad once you get to know her. She's like a sister to me.”

You raise an eyebrow, "So you dated your sister?" You were too drunk to worry about the fact that technically, you weren’t supposed to know that.

Jeno rolls his eyes, "It's not like that. We didn't date long because our dynamic wasn't suited for a relationship. She's harmless if you give her a chance. I was actually telling her about you."

Your heart warms at his words. "I feel like such a brat," you say, covering your face in embarrassment.

Jeno teases, "You are, but it's cute. I've never seen this side of you."

You groan, knowing he won't let you live it down. Summoning the rest of  your courage, you speak, "Thank you for being there for me. I'm sorry for getting jealous and causing a scene." You finish by placing a gentle kiss on his cheek.

Jeno stops walking and cups your cheek before you can fully pull away. He seals your apology with a soft kiss. You wrap your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss. When you pull away, you're breathless and he kisses your nose and resumes walking.

When you get in the car, Sasha doesn’t say anything, just mutters a “Finally” under her breath and blasts the heater as Jeno starts the engine. The ride is surprisingly pleasant, Sasha sings along to the songs on the radio and encourages you to join in. You breathe a little easier now that she isn’t sending icy glares through the rearview mirror. You're still not entirely sure how you feel about her, but you're glad whatever beef she had with you has been squashed.

At your apartment door, Jeno hesitates before speaking.

“I'm sorry for yelling at you earlier. I don’t usually get that worked up, but I really thought something had happened to you,” he says.

“No, I’m sorry, Jeno. I shouldn’t have left. That was dangerous, and I wasn’t thinking. I feel like I ruined the night,” you reply, your voice tinged with regret.

Jeno closes the distance between you in two long strides and wraps his arms around you. “You didn’t ruin anything. I’m just glad you’re okay. Truce?”

You nod and hug him tighter, and he kisses the top of your head.

You pull away, your gaze dropping to your muddy clothes. "Shit, I'm sorry," you mutter, scanning Jeno's shirt for any dirt you might have transferred. His once clean shirt now smudged with dirt and you grimace at the sight.

Jeno chuckles, grasps the hem of his shirt, and with a swift motion he pulls it over his head. You’re too stunned to speak. Your eyes rake over his toned body, his abdominal muscles ripple like waves and a deep V-line draws your eye down to the waistband of his jeans. You swallow hard, feeling your cheeks flush with warmth.

He tilts your chin up and offers a smirk. The expression on his face is a challenge, daring you to make the first move. "Do you want me to help clean you up, or would you rather I go?" His voice is a soft rumble that sends shivers down your spine.

You can't find your voice, so you act. You strip off your muddy clothes until you stand before him in just your underwear. It was the most vulnerable you have ever been with Jeno, but you trust him. His gaze rakes over you, setting your skin ablaze. Both of you seeing a new side of each other, and neither of you could get enough.

He leads you into the bathroom, turning the shower on as steam begins to fill the room. He lifts you onto the counter before positioning himself between your legs. Your heart pounds in your chest as he carefully helps pick all the leaves and sticks from your hair, being gentle to avoid making it even more tangled than it already is. Once he's done, you hop down and stand before him, unsure of what to do next. Jeno decides to take the lead and he watches you with a lazy smile as he reaches for his belt. You can't help but stare at his hands. They are thick, manly, and veined. Your mind races, imagining those hands wrapped around your neck. Jeno likes the way you look at him, his smile turning cocky. He then slides down his jeans, revealing his muscular thighs and the prominent outline of his erection straining against his briefs. You lick your lips, your mouth suddenly dry.

He leans in, his voice barely a whisper over the roar of the shower, "Help me, yeah?"

You step closer, your fingers trembling as you hook them into the waistband of his briefs. He notices your shaking hands and bends down to look you in the eyes. "Hey, we can stop if you want. I can shower at my place, you know that, right?" Jeno would never pressure you into something you weren’t ready for and you appreciate him for taking the time to check in on you.

You shake your head, you were beyond horny at this point. "No, please. I need this. I need you."

He sends you a smile, a slow, sexy curve of his lips that drives you crazy. Then he nods, motioning for you to continue.

You pull his briefs down, and his cock springs free, slapping against his abdomen. You gasp, your eyes wide as you take in his size. He's thick and the head of his cock is pink and weeping. It was like a ripe, juicy fruit and you can't help the way your tongue darts out to lick your lips as you imagine tasting him.

Jeno tilts his head with a cocky smirk. "Your turn, princess. No more hiding."

You take a deep breath, unclipping your bra. It falls away, revealing your breasts to him. You shimmy out of your panties, adding them to the growing pile of clothing on the floor. You stand tall, your shoulders back, and your chin high. Your heart pounds in your chest as you do your best to appear as confident as Jeno.

You watch his eyes glaze over in lust. ““Come here,” he says softly before guiding you into the shower.

You step into the shower and Jeno's eyes never leave yours. He turns the showerhead, letting the water cascade down your body and  washing away the rest of the mud on your skin. You shiver under the intensity of his gaze.

He reaches for the shampoo and his fingers massage your scalp as he works the product into your hair. You close your eyes and your body relaxes under his touch. Once he's done, he rinses your hair.

He grabs the soap and lathers it up in his hands. He starts at your chest and his soapy hands glide over your skin making your breath hitch. Then he cups your breasts, his thumbs circling your nipples until they grow hard. He pinches them and the sensation is new and unexpected, causing you to jump slightly and take a step back. He doesn’t let up though, he follows, pressing you against the cold tile wall so that he can explore your body. His hands roam down your sides, over your waist, until they reach your hips. He massages the skin there, continuously lathering you in soap before he reaches around and grabs the flesh of your ass. You gasp, your eyes fluttering closed as he leans in and  captures your mouth in a searing kiss.

His tongue dips into your mouth and explores every inch of it. Your tongues dance, your teeth clash, and your breaths mingle. You grab onto his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin as you pull him closer, deepening the kiss. You want him, all of him. You want to know him in ways you never have before.

Your hands slide down his chest and over his abs until they reach his cock. You wrap your hand around it and run your thumb along the rigid veins. He freezes, his mouth agape and his breath hitches. You tighten your grip, stroking him slowly, your hand slick with water and soap.

You remember all the years worth of fanfics, sex articles, and porn you’ve consumed and you use that knowledge to guide you on what to do next. You had read that guys like a tight grip, so you grip him hard enough for him to really feel it. You twist your wrist as you stroke him and tease the sensitive head of his cock before gliding back down to the base. You watch as the water rains down on him, his hair plastered to his forehead and droplets rolling down his abs. You feel a sense of empowerment, knowing that you're the one driving him to the edge.

Jeno lets out a shaky moan, his brows furrowing as he hides his face in your shoulder. "Fuck, who taught you this?" he asks, genuinely puzzled. He'd assumed you were a virgin, but the way you touched him was anything but innocent.

You feel emboldened by his reaction and lean in to purr in his ear. "Shh, just take it. You deserve it." You can feel his body trembling, his grip on your hips turning bruising as you increase the pace, you add your other hand and they work in tandem to drive him closer to the edge.

He leans into you, his breath coming in ragged gasps. His hips thrust forward, meeting your strokes. You can feel his body tensing, his orgasm building. He lets out a guttural moan before he grips your wrist tight.

Suddenly, he pulls away, taking a clumsy step back. "Wait," he says, his voice rough. "Turn around."

Your stomach clenches in excitement. The look in his eyes promises that you're in for something special. You do as he says and turn to face the wall. You expect to feel his cock, but instead, you feel his warm wet tongue against your folds. He hums at the taste and sucks eagerly at your clit. He needs you ready and wet enough to take him. He slips two thick fingers inside you, stretching you out for him. You can feel your juices dripping down your thighs and your breath comes in short gasps.

Once he has your juices dripping down his face, he finally stands. Leaning over you, he runs the head of his cock along your slit. "You're so fucking wet," he growls. "You have no idea what you do to me, baby. I've jacked off thinking about you, imagining you coming to my door, begging me to eat your pussy." He leans in closer, his voice dropping to a low whisper. "But now, I’m all yours. Whenever you want me, you can have me."

You whimper, your hips wiggling impatiently. You reach back, grabbing his cock, guiding it to your entrance. Testing the waters you dip the fat head of his cock into your cunt again and again until you can't take it anymore.

“All you have to do is ask, baby. Say it.” He grits out as his hand comes up to lightly grip your throat.

"Fuck me," you pant, your voice barely a whisper.

You gasp as Jeno presses his hips forward, stretching you open. It's a new sensation, and your initial instinct is to pull away. You rise onto your tiptoes, but Jeno's grip on your neck tightens, holding you in place. "Stay right there," he breathes, his voice ragged with desire. "Right there…" 

He pushes in deeper, and you can feel every inch of him as he fills you completely. You take a moment to adjust, your body throbbing and pulsing around him. When you start to move back against him, he takes it as a sign to begin thrusting.

He starts slow and shallow, testing the rhythm. "How do you want it?"

"Deeper," you whisper, your voice barely audible over the sound of the shower. "Faster."

He obliges, his grip on your hips tightening as he picks up the pace. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoes through the bathroom, drowning out the sound of the shower. He uses his hold on you to move you up and down on his cock, fucking you against him with powerful snaps of his hips.

"You feel so good," he pants, his voice laced with praise. "You're taking it like a champ, baby. You're so fucking wet."

You were delirious and drunk off his words, you wanted more. You can feel your orgasm building and your legs tremble, but you don't want him to stop. "Harder," you beg, your voice barely a whisper. "Fuck me harder."

He growls, his hips moving like a piston as he rams into you., The hand around your neck moves down, his fingers finding your clit, rubbing harsh circles that send you spiraling over the edge.

Your climax hits you like a tidal wave and your body convulses as you scream his name but Jeno doesn't stop. He fucks you through your orgasm, his body tense as he chases his own release. "I'm so close, hold on for me," he grunts. "Make me proud, take it."

You're a whimpering mess in his arms, your legs shaking as he finally pulls out, painting your back with his cum. He strokes himself, ensuring he's spilled every last drop.

Your legs give out and you sink down onto the shower floor. Jeno bends down to your level. "You okay?" he asks.

You laugh weakly, shaking your head. "I'm more than okay," you say. "How are you... not even a little out of breath?"

He chuckles, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your lips. "I don't go to the gym for nothing," he says, his voice laced with pride. "Now come on, let me run you a bath." He helps you to your feet, his arm wrapped around your waist, steadying you as you step out of the shower.

𓅰 𓅬 𓅭 𓅮 𓅯𓅰 𓅬 𓅭 𓅮 𓅯𓅰 𓅬 𓅭 𓅮 𓅯𓅰 𓅬 𓅭 𓅮 𓅯𓅰 𓅬 𓅭 𓅮 𓅯𓅰 𓅬

While cleaning around your house, you notice a small piece of paper slipped under your door. Your heart skips a beat as you see the handwritten message:

Meet me on the roof at 9

One of the main amenities you moved into this apartment for was the rooftop lounge. It’s a quiet, tucked away spot with a view of the city skyline. You start getting ready around 8, choosing an outfit that’s cute yet casual since you weren't sure of the exact occasion. You hesitate for a moment in front of the mirror, nerves fluttering in your stomach. You take a final glance over your outfit to make sure you feel confident then head out the door toward the rooftop. When you step outside the cool night air brushes against your skin.

The space isn’t often used, but tonight, it’s transformed. Twinkling fairy lights and lanterns are draped over railings and in the center stands a small, round table covered with a white cloth and a tiny vase holding a single red rose. A soft melody filled the space as a small speaker played a mellow playlist, setting the mood. It’s a cheesy setup but that makes you love it even more.

Jeno is already waiting at the table, leaning slightly forward with a gentle smile. His eyes light up when he sees you, and he stands to greet you.

He’s dressed in a simple white button down shirt and slacks. It's laid-back but with a touch of formality, which makes you feel a little insecure about the outfit you picked.

"You look amazing," Jeno says softly, and any doubts you had wash away in an instant.

Your cheeks heat, and you can’t help but smile. "What did you want to talk about?" your voice is a little tentative.

“I know you’ve been avoiding me,” he says softly, taking a step towards you. His voice is gentle but steady. “And I know you’re afraid to let your walls down, but I promise I won’t hurt you if you let me in.”

His words hang in the cool night air as you think of a way to explain yourself. It’s true, you had been distant lately, unsure of what your relationship really was. You hadn’t talked about labels yet so you weren’t sure where you stood. 

He takes another slow, deliberate step toward you and reaches out to clasp your hand in his. His touch is warm and reassuring. He guides you toward the small, romantic table he’s set up.

As you walk, your eyes are drawn upward. The sky above is a deep blue, speckled faintly with stars struggling to shine through the city’s smog. When you reach the table, you notice a small insulated bag resting beside it. Jeno reaches inside, pulling out plates wrapped in plastic, their steam still rising, trapping the warmth inside. The faint scent of herbs and spices drifts up as he unwraps them, revealing beautifully prepared dishes.

He sets the plates down carefully, placing silverware and a single wine glass in front of you. From his seemingly endless “magic sack,” he retrieves a bottle of wine and he uncorks it. He pours a generous glass for you before doing the same for himself.

You wait until he’s finished, then raise your glass. The two of you sip the wine and the velvety flavor coats your tongue, and you hum softly in content. You offer him a small, thankful smile.

“I’ve been saving this for a special day,” Jeno says happily, his eyes shining. He digs into his food, nodding encouragingly at you to try yours.

You happily take a bite, the flavors bursting in your mouth. You were grateful you had an excuse to remain silent, you were still trying to find the right words. 

“Just relax,” he chuckles softly, breaking the quiet with a gentle laugh.

You hate how attuned he is to you, how he can read your mood with such ease. Sometimes it feels like he’s known you forever.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you whisper, “I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything,” he replies softly. “We’re fine. We’ve always been fine. Let’s start from here. I’m not looking for an apology. I just missed you. I just want you here with me.”

Your stomach tightens with emotion, and even though you’ve already swallowed your food, the lump in your throat won’t go away. “I’m here. I’ll always be here,” you whisper back.

He offers you a warm, reassuring smile, one that seems to say everything you need to hear. Leaning across the table, he gently wipes away the tears you didn’t realize were falling, his thumb brushing softly against your cheek.

You don’t need him to say the words because he’s already shown you how he feels. His care is evident in every gesture, in the way he listens, in the gentle way he looks at you. He’s never too direct, and you appreciate that. Sometimes you think he’s afraid that being too honest might scare you away. 

Thank you Jeno, for always being the brave one, but I think it's my turn

You take a deep breath and meet his gaze directly. “I love you.” The words come out confident, steady, and unwavering. You don’t dare look away.

Jeno’s face lights up with the biggest smile. “I thought I might never hear those words,” he says.

[nocturnestarr]

Oops... My Bad! (M)

Pairing: Professor!Jeno x Student!Fem!Reader

Genre(s): Smut, porn with little plot, college AU, age gap, forbidden romance, drama, rich kid AU, pining/yearning, slice of life

Word Count: Approx 4.6k

Content Warnings/Tags: Mature content (18+ only/mdni!), strong language, professor x student dynamic, age gap, sexual tension, power imbalance, explicit dream sequence, oral (male receiving), penetrative sex, doggy, overestimulation, slight breeding kink, name-calling, daddy kink, mentions of vaping, virgin!reader, emotional conflict, slight angst, innocence kink

Summary: You thought Calculus II would be the hardest subject this semester. You didn't expect your biggest distraction to be the handsome professor standing at the front of the classroom. One innocent slip of the tongue during office hours turns an embarrassing crush into something much harder to ignore.

Author’s Note: I'm still not over Jeno in that suit and glasses... like, are we sure he was allowed to look 1,000,000% that hot? 😳🩶 That look has been living in my head rent-free ever since. I actually wrote this fic sometime around april this year. It ended up sitting in my phone's notes app for months until I finally came back, polished it up a little, and decided it deserved to see the light of day. Anyway... enjoy the fic! And as always, thank you for reading!!

───────────── ✿ ──────────────

The first day of your fifth semester hits like a rush of fresh air mixed with the faint scent of overpriced coffee from the campus café. You're Y/N, the girl everyone knows—the one from the wealthy family who could probably buy half the university if she wanted, but instead, you're here, trudging through IT and data science classes because your parents insist on that fancy degree. It's not like you hate it; you actually pull off straight A's without breaking a sweat, your bubbly energy turning late-night study sessions into something almost fun. But truth be told, college feels more like a playground than a necessity, and you're the playful type who skips through it all with a bratty smile and a spoiled little sway in your step.

You're in your early twenties, small and cute as hell, with wide doe eyes that make you look innocent even when you're not trying to be. Your style screams pink and girly—today, it's a tiny pleated skirt that barely skims your thighs, hugging your round, soft-looking bottom just enough to make it jiggle a bit when you walk, paired with a cropped top that hides your big breasts but hints at their fullness if you lean just right. Guys stare, of course. They always do. Whispers follow you down the halls: "Damn, I'd kill to get with her." But you? You couldn't care less. None of them spark that fire in you. You're a virgin, after all, and no way in hell are you handing over something that precious to some random dude who thinks vaping makes him edgy. It has to be someone special, someone who deserves to slide between your legs and claim you.

As you weave through the crowded quad, your phone buzzes with texts from your so-called friends—girls who borrow your designer bags and expect you to foot the bill for brunch without a second thought. You smile at the messages, replying with hearts and emojis, but deep down, you keep them at arm's length. They're sweet, sure, but they take more than they give. You're kind like that, never calling them out, just floating through with your extroverted charm.

Then there's Sion. He's leaning against a tree near the lecture hall, that cocky grin plastered on his face as he spots you—a flash of confidence wrapped in a mess of fiery red hair that catches the afternoon light like a warning sign. Popular guy, captain of the debate team or whatever, with a trail of girlfriends longer than his vape cloud. He's been hitting on you since freshman year—lunch dates, study 'sessions,' the works. Today, he's got a fresh haircut, those red locks styled just right, and that same lingering smoke smell clinging to his jacket like it's part of his brand.

"Y/N, babe, you look fire today," he calls out, pushing off the tree and falling into step beside you. His eyes rake over your skirt, lingering on the way it rides up just a tad as you adjust your backpack. "Wanna grab coffee after class? My treat."

You tilt your head, giving him that polite but firm smile you've perfected. "Sion you.. smoke." It's innocent, really—no malice, just a statement. But it lands like a gut punch. His grin falters, and you keep walking, your hips swaying without a care. He mutters something under his breath, but you don't stick around to hear it. Health-conscious? Yeah, that's you. No clouds of vapor or cigarette haze for the guy who'd get to touch you.

The calculus lecture hall is already half-full when you slip inside, the air cool and buzzing with pre-semester chatter. You pick a seat right in the front row, dead center, crossing your legs under the desk as your skirt hikes up your thighs. A few guys from your IT classes glance your way, their stares hungry, but you ignore them, pulling out your notebook and pink gel pen. Calculus. Ugh, but maybe this semester won't suck.

The door at the front swings open, and in walks Professor Lee Jeno. Holy shit. He's not what you expected. Mid-thirties, maybe, with sharp features that scream handsome in a way that's almost unfair—a jawline that looked like it could cut glass, and dark hair parted and swept back in a soft curtain cut just enough to look professional without trying too hard. He adjusts his glasses as he sets his briefcase on the desk, the thin frames perched on his nose making him look even more intense. His button-up shirt clings to broad shoulders, sleeves rolled up to reveal forearms that flex when he uncaps a marker. No wedding ring, you note absently. Not that it matters.

"Good morning, class," he says, his voice deep and commanding, cutting through the murmurs like a knife. "I'm Professor Lee Jeno, and this is Calculus II. If you're here for easy A's, you've got the wrong room." He scans the room, his gaze lingering on you for a split second—those dark eyes behind the glasses making your stomach flip in a way no guy's ever done before. Butterflies. Actual goddamn butterflies.

By the end of the lecture, you're hooked. Not on the math, exactly, but on him. You scribble notes furiously, actually understanding more than you thought you would. As the class files out, your classmates nudge each other, whispering about how you're glued to your seat in Professor Lee's class, unlike your usual bubbly distractions in other lectures. "Y/N's got it bad," one girl giggles, but you just flash a playful smile and pack up.

He dives right in, scribbling equations on the board with precise strokes. Limits, derivatives—you try to focus, but it's hard when he's right there, his back to the class as his slacks hug his ass and thighs in a way that's distractingly fit. You lean forward, chin in hand, watching the way his arm muscles shift under his shirt. He's strict, you can tell; he calls out a guy in the back for whispering, docking participation points on the spot. But there's something about him—hot, yeah, but desirable.

Like, take-off-the-glasses-and-ruin-me desirable.

Over the next few weeks, it becomes your routine. Front row, every time. You study your butt off for his quizzes—good grades, always. But it's the crush sneaking up on you that you don't even clock. You just like being there, watching him pace, his voice wrapping around complex theorems like it's foreplay for your brain.

One afternoon, after a particularly tricky lecture on integrals, you linger as the room empties. Your heart's pounding a little too fast, but you blame it on the material. "Professor Lee?" you call out sweetly, approaching his desk with your notebook clutched to your chest. Your skirt swishes against your thighs, the hem dangerously short.

He looks up from grading papers, pushing his glasses up his nose. "Yes, Miss...?" He glances at your name on the attendance sheet. "Y/N. What can I do for you?"

"I, um, didn't quite get that last example," you say, all wide-eyed innocence, flipping open your notebook to a page that's mostly doodles of equations with little hearts around them. It's a lie—you nailed it—but you need an excuse. "Could you explain it again? Maybe in your office? If that's okay."

He hesitates, but nods professionally. "Of course. Follow me."

His office is tucked in the math building's quiet wing, a small space lined with bookshelves and a desk piled with papers. The door clicks shut behind you, and suddenly it's just the two of you, the air thicker than it should be. You perch on the edge of the guest chair, crossing your legs, your skirt rides up higher than intended, exposing the soft curve of your thigh. Jeno clears his throat, sitting across from you, his chair creaking under his weight.

"All right, show me where you're stuck," he says, leaning forward to peer at your notebook. But as you slide it over, you lean in too, your top dipping just enough to brush the tops of your breasts against the desk edge. He freezes for a beat, his eyes flicking down—quick, professional, but you catch it. A flush creeps up his neck.

You bite your lip, playing it bubbly. "It's this part, Daddy—er, Professor. Sorry, force of habit from my old tutor." The word slips out, laced with that innocent charm, but it hangs in the air like smoke. Daddy. Fuck, why did that feel so right? Your core twitches, a warm slickness building between your legs without you even registering it. You're just here for help, right?

Jeno's jaw tightens, but he recovers fast, pointing to the equation. "Here. You forgot to apply the chain rule properly." His voice is steady, but when his hand brushes yours as he hands back the pen, electricity shoots up your arm. He's closer now, explaining step by step, his cologne—clean, masculine—filling your senses.

You nod along, but your mind's wandering to how his glasses make him look like he could unravel you with a single stern glance. To shift for a better look, you uncross your legs, and your skirt hikes up further, the fabric straining against your round bottom as you lean over the desk. Compromising as hell—your thighs part just a fraction, and you feel that unfamiliar wetness pooling in your panties, making you squirm subtly.

He notices. Of course he does. His explanation stutters for a second, eyes darting to your exposed skin before snapping back to the paper. "Like this," he murmurs, a little rougher, adjusting his glasses.

You tilt your head, batting your lashes. "Thanks, Professor. You're the best. I mean, no one explains it like you do." Your voice is playful, flirty without pushing, a subtle purr that makes his fingers tighten on the pen. Daddy undertones simmer under your words, unspoken but electric.

"You're a good student, Y/N," he says, voice low, meeting your eyes. There's tension there, thick and unspoken, his professionalism cracking just a hair. "Just keep up the work."

You straighten up and turn to leave, smoothing your skirt—but it catches on the chair arm, tugging up one side and flashing the edge of your lacy pink panties. You gasp softly, yanking it down, cheeks pink. "Oops. These skirts are tricky."

Jeno averts his gaze, but not before you see the heat in his eyes. "Be careful," he warns, almost too quietly.

You flash him a bubbly smile, heart racing, that slick heat between your thighs making every step out of his office feel like torture. What the hell is happening? But deep down, you know—you want more of this, more of him. And something tells you he does too.

❀ ❦ ❀

The dream pulls you under like a warm, forbidden tide, your body sinking into the soft sheets of your bed as the university fades away. You're in a dimly lit bedroom now, the air thick with anticipation, and there he is—Professor Lee Jeno, but not the buttoned-up version from class. His glasses are off, tossed aside on the bedside table, revealing those sharp, intense eyes that lock onto you with raw hunger. His hair is tousled, no longer swept back, falling just enough to make him look dangerously approachable. He's shirtless, his broad chest rising and falling, muscles defined from years of discipline, and his slacks are already unbuckled, hinting at the bulge straining beneath.

You don't question how you got here; dreams don't need logic. You're on your knees in front of him, your tiny pink skirt hiked up around your waist, top pushed down to expose your big breasts bouncing slightly with your breaths. Your wide doe eyes look up at him, innocent yet playful, that bratty spark igniting as you reach for his zipper. "Professor Lee..." you whisper, but it comes out breathy, needy.

"Jeno," he corrects, voice low and commanding, his hand coming up to cup your chin. "Or better yet... call me Daddy." The word sends a shiver straight to your core, your untouched pussy clenching in response. You've never done this before, not in reality, but here, in this hazy fantasy, your small hands know exactly what to do. You tug his slacks down, and his cock springs free—thick, veined, and impossibly huge, the tip already glistening with pre-cum. It's bigger than you imagined, heavy in your palm as you wrap your fingers around the base, giving it a tentative stroke.

He groans, low and guttural, his fingers threading into your hair, not pulling yet, just holding. "That's it, baby girl. Show Daddy what that pretty mouth can do." You lean in, your tongue darting out to lick a slow stripe up the underside, savoring the salty taste. Your hand pumps him steadily, caressing the length with soft twists, thumb circling the head to spread the slickness. He's so warm, pulsing under your touch, and you worship it like it's the only thing that matters—kissing the tip softly, lips brushing the sensitive slit before sucking it into your mouth with a wet pop.

Jeno's breath hitches, his grip tightening in your hair. "Good girl... fuck, you're a natural slut for this cock, aren't you?" The degradation hits you like a spark, making your thighs press together as wetness pools between them. You take more of him, sucking deeper, your tongue swirling around the head while your hand strokes what you can't fit yet. Licking turns to bobbing, your cheeks hollowing as you pump him faster, the obscene sounds of your mouth filling the room—slurps and moans vibrating against his skin.

He thrusts shallowly at first, controlled, his hand guiding your head. "Deeper, baby. Take Daddy's cock like the woman you are." You obey, relaxing your throat as you push forward, gagging slightly when the thick head hits the back. Tears prick your eyes, but you don't stop, deep throating him until your nose brushes his pelvis, his balls heavy against your chin. He holds you there, tangling his fingers tighter, a brief face fuck starting—rough pulls that make you choke, but he reins it in, aggressive yet never losing control. "That's my slut... choking on it so pretty."

You pull back gasping, strings of saliva connecting your lips to his tip, and he lets you catch your breath before pushing you down again. But just as you're lost in the rhythm, he yanks you off with a firm tug on your hair, his cock twitching in the air, slick and shining from your efforts. "Enough," he growls, eyes dark. "On your stomach, baby girl. Daddy's gonna fuck that tight little pussy now."

Your heart races as you scramble onto the bed, flipping over and pressing your face into the pillows, ass up just enough to present yourself. Your round, squishable cheeks jiggle as you settle, the small but perky flesh begging for attention. Jeno climbs behind you, his weight dipping the mattress, and you feel the heat of his body before his hands grip your hips. He slaps his cock against your ass—once, twice, the heavy thwack echoing as it smacks your soft, jiggly skin, making it ripple. "Look at this ass... all mine to ruin."

He parts your cheeks with rough palms, exposing your dripping slit and the tight rim above it. His cock rubs up and down, teasing your folds, coating himself in your arousal before dragging over your puckered hole. You whimper, pushing back instinctively, your virgin body aching for more. "Please, Daddy..." you beg, voice muffled in the sheets.

"Say it right," he demands, one hand sliding up to pull your hair, arching your back. "Call me Dad. Papa. Sir. Whatever it takes to get this cock inside you."

"Daddy... Dad... please, Sir," you gasp, the words tumbling out in a rush, the daddy fantasy blooming hot in your chest.

He chuckles darkly, positioning the tip at your entrance. "Good girl." Then he's pushing in—slowly, inch by agonizing inch. Your pussy is too small, too tight, stretching around his girth like it was made for him. You cry out, fingers clutching the sheets, the burn mixing with pleasure as he fills you. "Fuck, so tight... just the way Daddy likes a good pussy. Gripping me like a vice, slut." He bottoms out finally, hips flush against your ass, nothing but skin between you—his balls pressed to your clit, his cock buried to the hilt.

He doesn't give you time to adjust fully before he starts thrusting—rough, aggressive snaps of his hips that jolt you forward on the bed, your breasts squishing against the mattress. But it's controlled, each drive precise, hitting that spot deep inside that makes stars burst behind your eyes. The bed creaks under the force, headboard slamming against the wall in rhythmic thuds, the bed almost breaking with his power. Wet sounds fill the air—skin slapping skin, your slick pussy squelching around him as he pulls out and slams back in.

"You're such a picky little slut," he grunts, leaning over you, his chest to your back. One hand wraps around your throat lightly, breath play making your head spin as he squeezes just enough to heighten everything. "Turning down all those boys because you only want good, potent cock like Daddy's. Gonna breed this tight cunt, fill you up until you're dripping with my cum." His words send you spiraling, your walls clenching hard, sucking him in like you never want to let go.

You push back against him, meeting his thrusts, your ass jiggling with each impact. 'Yes, Jeno... breed me, Papa... Sir, please!" His free hand snakes down, a finger circling your rim before dipping in lightly, the dual sensation making you keen. He bites your shoulder, teeth sinking in just enough to mark, then he soothes it with his tongue, pulling your hair to expose your neck for more nips.

He shifts, wrapping your legs around his thighs to lock you in place, fucking deeper now, the angle making him grind against your g-spot relentlessly. "Come for me first, baby. Your first orgasm on Daddy's cock—milk me dry, you filthy woman." The command tips you over, pleasure crashing through you like a wave. You come hard, pussy spasming around him, clenching and squeezing in waves that leave you trembling, a gush of wetness soaking the sheets beneath you.

Jeno groans, thrusts faltering as he follows, slamming in one last time. "Fuck, take it all..." Hot spurts fill you, his cock pulsing endlessly inside your fluttering walls. He stays buried, grinding slow circles to ride it out, his release seeming never-ending. You push back, keeping him nestled deep, clenching to hold every drop, your body greedy for more even as aftershocks ripple through you.

But then, reality crashes in. Your eyes flutter open, the dream dissolving like smoke. You're back in your dorm room, tangled in pink sheets, the morning light filtering through the curtains. Your heart pounds, breaths coming in pants, and as you shift, a sticky warmth spreads between your thighs. You're soaked—panties drenched, arousal slicking your skin under the fabric. A wet dream. About him. Professor Lee. Your cheeks burn, but the ache lingers, a promise of what your subconscious craves.

❀ ❦ ❀

The days following that encounter in the office—and the vivid, soul-shaking wet dream that followed—are a blur of mortification and longing. Every time you close your eyes, you can still feel the phantom weight of Professor Lee's body pressing you into the mattress, the guttural sound of him calling you a slut, and the way he filled you until you felt like you might break.

You are absolutely mortified. The fact that you actually let the word "Daddy" slip out loud in real life is enough to make you want to crawl into a hole and disappear. You’re a good girl, a sweet girl, but your subconscious is clearly a filthy little brat.

Consequently, your behavior in Calculus changes drastically. You, the girl who practically lived in the front row, now retreat to the very back of the lecture hall. You sink into your seat, trying to make your small frame even smaller, avoiding eye contact at all costs. You don't look at the board; you don't raise your hand. You just stare at your notebook, doodling little pink hearts and equations, praying Jeno doesn't notice your sudden disappearance.

Unfortunately, the back of the room is Sion’s territory.

"Hey, princess," Sion whispers, leaning in close, a lock of his fiery red hair falling across his forehead. You can smell the faint, cloying scent of his vape—something that smells like artificial blueberries and desperation. He’s handsome in a conventional, boy-band sort of way, but compared to the raw, commanding masculinity of Professor Lee, he feels like a child. "You've been acting weird. Why the sudden move to the back? Missed seeing those legs up front."

You don't even look at him, your voice flat. "I just wanted a different perspective, Sion."

"Right. Well, how about a different perspective on lunch? My treat. There's that new bistro downtown," he pushes, his voice dropping to a flirtatious hum.

"I'm busy," you reply simply, not even glancing his way. You couldn't care less about his bistro or his ego. All you can think about is the man at the front of the room, the way his voice vibrates through the air, and how much you want to be under him again—even if it was just a dream.

Your "friends"—the group of girls who adore your wardrobe and designer bags but barely know your middle name—cluster around you after class. They’re mostly interested in the rumors about Jeno’s background.

"Did you see the watch he was wearing today?" one of them whispers, her eyes gleaming with greed. "That’s a Patek Philippe. He’s not just a professor; he’s filthy rich. Y/N, you’re the only one he actually talks to. You have to get us in with him."

You give them a sweet, innocent smile, though internally you feel a flicker of distaste. You’ve always been kind, too soft to tell them they’re using you, but you subconsciously keep a distance. You don't want them anywhere near Jeno. He’s your secret, your forbidden craving.

For a week, the silence between you and Jeno is deafening. You leave the room the second the bell rings, practically sprinting out the door. But Jeno is a man of observation. He notices the shift in your energy, the way you shrink away from him, and the way your doe eyes dart away whenever he glances your way.

Then comes Friday.

As the class ends and students begin to shuffle out, Jeno’s voice cuts through the noise, calm and authoritative. "Miss Y/N. Please stay behind for a moment."

Your heart leaps into your throat. You freeze, your grip tightening on the strap of your pink purse. "I-I can't—I have—" you stammer, your mind racing for an excuse.

"It'll only take a moment," he says. It isn't a request; it's a directive.

You feel trapped, your legs moving on autopilot as you follow him into his office. The door clicks shut, and the sudden silence of the room feels heavy, charged with a tension that makes the fine hairs on your arms stand up.

You sit in the guest chair, feeling tiny and exposed. You’re wearing a pale pink cropped cardigan and a matching pleated skirt that barely covers the tops of your thighs. You’re sweating slightly, your palms damp, the bubbly, extroverted version of yourself replaced by a trembling, nervous wreck.

Jeno doesn't speak at first. He stands behind his desk, watching you with those piercing eyes. Slowly, he reaches up and removes his glasses, setting them carefully on the mahogany surface.

Your breath hitches. Without the glasses, his gaze is raw, more intense. He looks exactly like he did in the dream—the man who took you with a rough, possessive hunger. The thought flashes through your mind: God, he's so much hotter like this, and you immediately bite your lip to stop yourself from moaning.

"You've been avoiding me," he says. His voice is a low rumble that vibrates in your chest.

"I haven't—" you start, your voice small.

"You have." A faint, almost imperceptible smile tugs at the corner of his lips. He steps around the desk, moving with a predatory grace. "Is it because of what you called me the other day?"

The blood rushes to your face, turning you a shade of red that rivals a strawberry. You look down at your lap, your voice a mere whisper. "I—I'm sorry—"

"Don't be."

Before you can react, he’s there. He leans down, his face coming level with yours. He places one arm on the back of your chair, effectively caging you between his body and the seat. He’s so close you can smell his scent—expensive cologne, old books, and something metallic and sharp.

You freeze, your heart hammering against your ribs. He’s too close. You can feel the heat radiating off him, the sheer presence of him overwhelming your senses. You think about how small you are compared to him, how easily he could just... take you.

Jeno’s gaze softens slightly as he notices the small, pink flower clip pinning back a lock of your hair. It matches your outfit perfectly, adding to the image of innocent, girly sweetness that he finds distractingly cute. A faint smirk plays on his lips, though he maintains his professional veneer.

"Your performance in class hasn't slipped," he says, his voice dropping an octave. "In fact, your grades are better than half the class. You're a very diligent student, Y/N."

"Thank you, Sir," you whisper, feeling a strange mix of pride and arousal.

But he doesn't pull away. He stays in your space, You find yourself staring—just for a second too long—at his lips. They are firm, well-defined, and you can almost taste them. You imagine those lips on your neck, biting your shoulder just like in the dream.

Jeno notices. He sees the desire in your eyes, the way your pupils are blown wide. He doesn't say anything, but the air between you practically crackles with electricity. Then, as quickly as he had approached, he begins to pull away.

Panic flares in your chest. You don't want him to leave. You don't want the tension to break. In a moment of pure, impulsive desperation, your hand shoots out. You grab his wrist, your small fingers clutching the expensive fabric of his suit jacket cuff.

The contact is electric. You feel the hard muscle of his forearm beneath the cloth, and for a heartbeat, you both just stay like that—frozen in a moment of unspoken desire.

Then, reality slams back into you. What am I doing?!

You let go instantly, pulling your hand back as if you've been burned. "I'm sorry! I—I didn't mean to—I'm so sorry!" you gasp, cursing yourself internally. You feel like a complete idiot, a bratty, impulsive mess.

Jeno doesn't respond immediately. He looks down at his wrist, then back at you. His expression is unreadable, but there’s a glint in his eyes that suggests he didn't mind the touch. If anything, it seemed to pique his interest.

"It's fine," he says simply, turning back toward his desk.

You don't wait for another word. You scramble out of the chair, grabbing your purse and practically fleeing the room. As you turn to leave, you instinctively smooth down your skirt, but it's too short. As you pivot, the fabric rides up, giving Jeno a clear, unobstructed glimpse of the curve of your round, squishable bottom and the edge of your lace panties.

You disappear into the hallway, your heart racing, leaving a heavy silence behind.

Inside the office, Jeno stands still. He closes his eyes and lets out a long, slow exhale, his shoulders dropping. He leans back against his desk, the image of your jiggling cheeks and the scent of your floral perfume still lingering in the air. He is a man of discipline, a man who knows exactly where the boundaries are, but you are making it increasingly difficult for him to remember why those boundaries exist.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

Reblog and feedback are always appreciated!

[hyuckiefluff]

call out my name | lee jeno

pairing: stepbrother! lee jeno x fem reader genre + wc: smut / enemies to lovers-ish | 17k+ summary: your stepbrother suddenly starts acting a bit different after fixing your laptop, and you wonder if it has anything to do with the endless posts you’ve made about wanting him to fuck you brainless. content warning: stepcest, voyeurism, masturbation, cheating, smoking and brief mentions of drug use, unprotected sex, hard dom jeno, oral (fem receiving), face riding weee, semi-public sex, multiple orgasms, jeno is a bit mean (but like in a hot way), lmk if i missed any! a/n: haven’t written for jeno in soooo long and my body needed it. also, beatbox era jeno still has me in a chokehold, so i imagined him looking exactly like that while writing this. that mullet-undercut combo was LETHAL i need him to reheat his own nachos expeditiously. also the lowercase is back too, i'm still trying to figure out if i like this more lol ps: if u catch the twilight reference you’ll get a kiss from me :p

jeno stomped into your room, hands shoved deep into his hoodie pocket, jaw tight with irritation. your voice still echoed in his head.

‘fix my laptop and i won’t tell your dad you’ve been skipping almost every class since the semester started.’

fix it? he wasn’t a damn IT guy. and how the hell did you even know he’d been skipping? what were you, a stalker?

seriously, it wasn’t his fault you couldn’t take care of your stuff. and why couldn’t you just take the damn thing to a repair shop?

“i need it for college work,’ you’d said.

yeah, right. like he didn’t hear you at night. his room was right next to yours, and those walls were way too thin. not only were you loud, but you also needed headphones, because he could hear exactly what kind of videos you watched.

he exhaled sharply through his nose, stepping up to your desk. the laptop sat there, taunting him in its sickly sweet pink case covered in hello kitty stickers.

“god, what a child,” he muttered, dragging a hand down his face before plopping onto your chair. the cushion was still warm from you sitting there earlier. he flipped the laptop open, and a password prompt appeared.

he tried your birthday first. denied.

with a sigh, he scanned your desk. you were forgetful, he was sure you had the password written somewhere. his eyes landed on a cluster of polaroids, mostly of you and your boyfriend. he grabbed one and flipped it over. sure enough, there was a scribbled note in your messy handwriting.

‘happy anniversary, my baby ❤️’ and a date.

jeno scoffed but typed it in anyway. the screen unlocked with a soft chime.

the moment your desktop loaded, he was met with a picture of you sprawled out on a beach towel, skin sun-kissed, in a tiny white bikini that barely covered anything. jeno swallowed.

several seconds passed before he snapped himself out of it, shaking his head and forcing his attention elsewhere.

your laptop was a disaster. it was clogged with files, random downloads, and so many pop-ups it was a miracle the thing still functioned. he clicked around, deleting error files and clearing out junk.

then a notification popped up from a browser window that was open in the background.

he opened the tab out of habit, not expecting anything interesting, but then the page loaded and he had to blink twice to make sure he was seeing right.

it was a blog called ‘horny antidotes.’

"what the hell is this?" he snorted.

he scrolled, thumb hovering before tapping on a section labeled confessions. a list of posts loaded, the oldest ones stretching back to the beginning of last year. against his better judgment, he clicked the most recent entries.

i tried it again tonight. used my fingers since the new toys i got don’t really feel good either. i think my boyfriend’s starting to suspect something. it’s kinda weird that i barely get wet when he touches me (╥_╥) we even try watching porn together, but it does nothing for me. we just scroll through hundreds of videos and i feel nothing, while he gets hard so easily. so i end up sucking him off.

jeno’s brows lifted. jesus.

i get more turned on looking at pictures of LJN. but i can’t touch myself to him… it feels wrong. so i gotta find an alternative. any tips? (>д<)

LJN?

his lips parted. those were initials. your boyfriend’s? no… his.

L. J. N.

lee jeno.

his pulse jumped. before he could think better of it, his fingers typed LJN into the blog’s search bar.

hundreds of posts popped up.

he let out a soft, disbelieving laugh.

no fucking way.

today LJN helped me with my homework. he looked like he hated every second of it. it was hard to focus when he sat so close… his cologne makes me feel so… hot (/ω＼).

jeno dragged a hand down his face. he’s not imagining all this? right?

my boyfriend and i broke up again (kinda) (μ_μ). same reason as always… our sex life sucks. he thinks i’m not into him, but that’s not true. he tries… i just… anyway, LJN knocked on my door today. he was only wearing a towel. i almost dropped to my knees right there and then. how does someone get abs like that? god, those arms… veiny and strong… maybe i should call my boyfriend and try again…

a slow smirk stretched across jeno’s lips. so your boyfriend can’t get you off, but i make you wet that easily? he thought.

his gaze drifted to your bed. the sheets were a tangled mess, barely clinging to the mattress. did you write that post after touching yourself last night? thinking about him?

he exhaled through his nose, head shaking like he couldn’t believe it. but god, his stomach clenched at the thought of you squirming with his name in your head.

sure, he knew people found him attractive. girls threw themselves at him all the time. but you? who argued with him over stupid shit, called him an asshole just this morning while throwing a sock at his head?

you wanted him. wanted him so bad you spilled it online for strangers to read.

his gaze flicked back to the screen, to the words where you described his cologne driving you crazy.

he should’ve stopped reading but instead, he clicked on another post.

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

the next morning, you woke up to find your laptop working perfectly. no note, no sarcastic comment scribbled on a post-it, nothing. just fixed.

weird.

you headed downstairs, fully expecting jeno to be in his usual morning mood, grumbling about chores, throwing half-hearted jabs just to rile you up. but when you found him on the couch, he was… quiet.

"hey," you said, grabbing a drink from the fridge. "so… thanks for fixing my laptop."

he barely glanced up, his gaze flickering over your bare legs for a heartbeat before settling back on his phone.

"yeah, no problem."

...that’s it?

you waited. no snark about your messy folders? no whining about how you owed him now?

your brows knit. "you okay?"

jeno stretched his legs, shorts riding up just enough to show more of his muscular thighs. "yeah, why wouldn’t i be?"

"i dunno," you said, eyeing him. "you’re acting weird."

he chuckled, head tilting as he shot you a lazy grin. "i’m always like this in the mornings. maybe you just don’t pay enough attention to me."

"trust me," you muttered, taking a sip from your drink, "i pay plenty of attention to you."

jeno’s lips twitched almost into a smirk.

then he hummed.

"yeah, i know."

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

the next few days, jeno turned it over in his mind—how to play this.

sure, the whole thing was entertaining, but you were still his stepsister. technically. your parents weren’t married, but they’d been together for about four years, and you’d been living under the same roof since last year.

not that you and jeno were close. you barely crossed paths, always out with friends or holed up in your room when you were home. plus, he found you immature. spoiled. maybe it was the three-year age gap, or maybe it was how quickly you’d settled in and made this place your own. his dad had asked him to be patient with you—“it’s a big change for her”—but if you were struggling, you hid it well.

especially with how you put on that perfect little act for your parents. sweet and responsible. as if you weren’t sneaking your boyfriend in through the window at night. or slipping out when you thought no one noticed. jeno noticed.

he just never cared enough to call you out. but the hypocrisy definitely grated on him. pretending to be miss goody-two-shoes when, by your own confession, you were getting railed by a guy who couldn’t even get you off?

the irony wasn’t lost on him. neither was the opportunity.

he could confront you. he’d definitely enjoy to watch you squirm, see that spark of defiance flicker into panic. tempting.

but maybe… maybe he’d keep this to himself a little longer.

drag it out and see just how much fun he could have before you caught on.

the perfect opportunity presented itself only a few days later when your parents announced their trip to italy for valentine’s day. conveniently their anniversary was also coming up, so they’d be gone for two whole weeks.

“we’ll be back next sunday,” jeno’s dad said, ruffling your hair. “don’t do anything stupid while we’re gone.”

you rolled your eyes, half-smiling, but then his tone shifted as he turned to jeno.

“jeno, take care of her. don’t let her get into any trouble. no parties or anything reckless.”

jeno nodded without a word, eyes flicking toward you before he turned back to your dad with a forced grin. “got it.”

you mom stepped forward, kissing your cheek, her hand lingering on your shoulder a moment longer. “be good, okay? we’re trusting you.” her gaze softened but held an unmistakable warning beneath it.

you knew exactly why. after all, it wasn’t like you had a spotless record. just three months ago, you had come home drunk after sneaking out to a friend’s party. what was supposed to be "just a few drinks" had turned into you singing on top of the table and someone posting it to their story. your parents found out the next morning, thanks to your neighbor, of all people, who’d seen the video. it hadn’t even been that scandalous, except for the fact that you were obviously drunk and under 21 at the time.

the hangover was bad, but the lecture was worse. "you’re lucky jeno was there to drag you home," your mom had said, shooting you a disappointed look. jeno had played the responsible older kid that night, carrying you out before things got worse. but that didn’t stop your parents from being more protective now. especially of you.

still, it annoyed you that all the warnings were directed your way while jeno stood there looking like a saint, when you knew he was anything but. sure, he hadn’t gotten wasted like you, but he was at the same party smoking weed on the back porch, making out with some girl whose name he probably didn’t even know, and encouraging shots like he was the party host. he was just lucky none of that was caught on camera, unlike you.

when the front door closed behind them, a strange silence settled over the house. you watched through the window as they loaded their luggage into the car and drove off. two weeks alone with jeno. what could possibly go wrong?

“guess it’s just us now,” you muttered.

jeno’s lips twitched into a small smile. "looks like it."

his gaze flickered over your body while you were distracted. this will be so much fun, he thought.

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

the house felt bigger without your parents around. normally, you’d take full advantage by inviting friends over, staying out late, and enjoying in the freedom. but something about being alone with jeno had you on edge.

not uncomfortable, just… wary.

he’d been acting strange lately. not openly, but enough that you noticed. it was in the way he looked at you now, like he knew something you didn’t.

you were scrolling through your phone in the kitchen that night when he strolled in.

"big plans while they’re gone?" he asked, pulling open the fridge.

"nothing crazy," you said, thumb still flicking at your screen. "just enjoying the peace and quiet."

he let out a low hum, the kind that sounded like he was holding back a laugh. "right. because you’re such a quiet, well-behaved girl."

your scrolling stopped. your gaze snapped up to him. "where’s that coming from?"

jeno didn’t answer immediately. instead, he stepped closer reaching past you for a glass in the cabinet overhead. the movement brought him close enough that his cologne hit you warm, musky, annoyingly good.

"you know," he murmured, voice just above a whisper, "you might fool them. but not me."

your heart skipped. "i have no idea what you’re talking about."

he dipped his head slightly, eyes flickering to your cleavage.

"sure you don’t."

then he was gone, leaving you in the kitchen with your pulse pounding and a breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

the weekend arrived quicker than expected, and despite jeno’s weirdness lately, nothing out of the ordinary happened.

until saturday.

jeno was sprawled on the couch, mindlessly tapping his fingers against his knee. his gaze drifted up just as you wandered into the living room, barefoot and still in your sleepwear—a thin tank top and shorts that barely covered your ass. you didn’t even glance his way, too focused on your phone as you padded toward the kitchen.

it was almost funny, how careless you were around him. clueless, really.

jeno bit back a smirk.

"you’re up early," he said, breaking the quiet.

you glanced over your shoulder while pouring cereal into a bowl. "uh… yeah?"

he shrugged. "figured you’d be catching up on sleep after sneaking out last night."

your hand faltered for half a second. it was subtle but enough for him to notice.

his grin widened as he leaned back against the couch cushions, arms draping lazily over the backrest. "right."

you set the cereal down with a little more force than necessary and turned to face him, arms crossed. "okay, what’s going on with you?”

"me?" he feigned innocence, eyebrows raising. "nothing, just making conversation."

your eyes narrowed, studying him. when he offered nothing else, you scoffed and turned back to the counter, muttering under your breath.

he’d never cared before. never commented on where you went or what you did. why was he suddenly so interested in you?

jeno used to treat you like background noise, a mild inconvenience at worst. now his gaze lingered longer whenever you walked into the room, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make your skin prickle in ways you didn’t want to think about.

later that evening, you curled up on the couch with your laptop, half-heartedly scrolling through an assignment you had no intention of finishing. jeno sat across from you, phone in hand, occasionally flicking through something with the tv playing low in the background. it was peaceful enough… until he spoke.

"you know…" he stretched, shirt riding up just enough to expose the waistband of his boxers. "your boyfriend kinda sucks."

your fingers froze mid-typing.

"what?" you asked, tone clipped. you didn’t look up, but your jaw tightened on instinct.

he hummed, "if i were sneaking out every night, i’d hope it was worth it."

you shut the laptop with a snap. "why do you even care?"

jeno grinned, clearly satisfied that he’d gotten under your skin. "i don’t."

you stood abruptly, blood buzzing with irritation. "whatever. i’m going to bed."

he chuckled under his breath as you turned to leave, but the sound grated on you. it echoed in your head as you stalked halfway down the hall before…no. screw that.

you spun on your heel, storming back into the living room. "you don’t know shit," you bit out.

jeno glanced up, unconcerned. "about what?"

"me. my boyfriend."

that finally got his full attention. he set his phone down and tilted his head, eyes gleaming. "oh, you mean the boyfriend who keeps getting dumped and crawling back like a stray?"

your nostrils flared. "fuck you."

"i’m just saying—"

"no, you’re not ‘just saying’ anything," you cut him off, stepping closer. "you think you know everything about me just because we share a roof?"

"you’d be surprised," he shot back, annoyingly calm.

your fists clenched. "you don’t know what i need. so stop acting like you do."

for a split second, something flickered in his expression, gone too fast to name. then his usual smirk slid back into place.

"i don’t need to know what you need." he leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "i already know what you want."

your breath hitched. you hated that, hated the way your pulse jumped at his words, at the confidence in his voice. what the hell did that even mean?

"you’re an asshole," you snapped. "i don’t owe you an explanation."

jeno nodded, like he agreed. "then why are you still standing here?"

your face burned with frustration, but you bit your tongue. there was nothing you could say that wouldn’t make this worse. so you did the next best thing, you turned on your heel and walked away, slamming your bedroom door behind you.

and yet, lying in bed later, the back of your mind replayed his words on a loop. you still felt like you’d lost.

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

hours passed and you were still pissed.

your whole body ached with it, hot and restless, like something crawling under your skin. jeno’s words sunk in deep, wrapping around you like barbed wire, too sharp, too true.

‘your boyfriend kinda sucks’ his voice rang in your ears.

no, your boyfriend was nearly perfect. he had all the right looks, the right voice, the right everything and yet… somehow, even after months of trying, of letting him touch you, of trying to want it—

you never got turned on with him. not the way you were now after a simple argument with jeno.

your hand moved before you could think, fingers slipping under the waistband of your shorts, finding that sticky warmth between your thighs. a shaky breath left you, head tipping back against the pillows. it wasn’t enough. god, it wasn’t nearly enough. you needed—fuck, you didn’t even know what you needed. just more. something to fill the ache, to drown out the way his voice echoed in your head. i don’t need to know what you need. i already know what you want.

stop.

you squeezed your eyes shut, forcing yourself to picture your boyfriend, to think about the way he kissed you, the way he whispered your name, the way he touched you.

but your body rejected it. the images blurred, twisted, morphed.

and suddenly it wasn’t his hands you were thinking about.

It was jeno’s slender fingers.

your fingertips grazed that sensitive spot, slick and throbbing, pulling a broken sound from your lips. your hips rolled up into your hand, chasing any semblance of relief. you let out a quiet, shuddering breath as your stomach clenched, your pulse kicking up as you fought it, fought him, fought the way his image took over.

but it was useless.

your body didn’t listen. it latched onto the memory of him. the way his pretty lips curled right before he was about to say something you knew would piss you off, the way his voice dipped when he was toying with you, the way his hands always fidgeted, tapping against his thigh, against his lips, always doing something.

your lips parted as your fingers moved faster, your other hand slid up your stomach, pushing up your shirt as your breath stuttered.

would he keep his rings on while touching you?

the thought sent a sharp pulse of arousal through you, your body tightening, the wetness between your thighs growing slicker.

you imagined his long fingers and the coolness of the rings against your skin. would he drag them over your stomach, trace your thighs, tease you with them first? or would he shove them inside right away?

you bit your lip, your fingers pressing down harder, teasing yourself the way he would, the way he might if he ever—

a moan slipped from your lips before you could stop it. “jeno…”

outside your door, jeno’s world fucking stopped. his body was tight, his breath stuck in his throat as he pressed himself against the wood.

he shouldn’t be here. he shouldn’t be standing outside your room, shouldn’t be looking through the small crack where the door hadn’t shut all the way.

but fuck.

fuck, you were so loud. did you even realize?

did you know how needy you sounded? the way your voice cracked, the way your breathing hitched, the way you whimpered when you…

jeno exhaled sharply, gripping the doorframe, trying to keep himself in check. but his mind was already too far gone. because if you were touching yourself to him, and if you were so desperate you couldn’t even keep quiet or make sure the the door was closed all the way… then maybe you wanted to get caught.

maybe you wanted him to see.

his breath came out slow and measured as he peeked through the crack, his body heating at the sight before him. the dim glow of your bedside lamp cast soft shadows over your skin, your legs spread wide, fingers buried deep inside yourself. the slick sounds of your movements, the rise and fall of your chest, the way your lips parted as you moaned his name. fuck, it was too much.

he felt himself throbbing painfully against his sweats, already aching from just watching you. his cock was so fucking hard it hurt.

he pulled himself out, his fingers wrapping around the thick length, hot and pulsing in his palm. he let out a sharp breath as he started stroking himself, matching his pace to the rhythm of your fingers slipping in and out of your pretty cunt.

he wanted to be the one touching you.

he imagined it, his fingers stretching you open, pumping in and out, his thumb circling your clit until you were shaking, whimpering against his mouth. would you let him fuck you raw the first time? god, you’d feel so good around him, so tight, clenching down on him like you never wanted him to pull out. he let out a quiet groan, biting his lip to keep himself from making any noise, even though part of him wanted you to hear him, wanted you to know exactly what you were doing to him.

your moans were getting louder, your breaths coming faster, more frantic. you were close, he could tell, your body was begging for release, and he wished, more than anything, that he could be the one to push you over the edge.

he knew that no one else could make you feel like this. not even your boyfriend, the one you pretended was enough for you. that idiot had the privilege of touching you, of being inside you, and still you weren’t getting off on thoughts of him. no, it was jeno’s name spilling from your lips as you fucked yourself.

his hand tightened around his cock, his strokes quickening. "cum for me, baby," he whispered under his breath, his forehead pressing harder against the doorframe.

maybe you heard him, maybe you didn’t, but your moans pitched higher, your fingers moving faster, your body trembling on the other side of the door. fuck—you were close, so fucking close, and he was right there with you. his jaw went slack, his breaths coming in ragged pants as the pleasure slammed into him, hot and heavy. his cock pulsed, his body shaking, cum spilling over his fingers in thick streaks as he saw you falling apart in your bed at the same time.

his body tensed, every nerve sparking as he milked himself through the high, swallowing back the urge to moan out your name. he barely had the presence of mind to tuck himself back into his sweats before he started dripping onto the carpet. that would’ve been a dead giveaway. but even as he came down from it, the heat in his chest didn’t fade. because now he knew just how badly you wanted him.

and he wasn’t going to just let it go.

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

so, he was back outside your room the following night.

your door was closed all the way this time. he swallowed hard, his pulse hammering as he curled his fingers around the doorknob, testing it. it turned just a fraction before stopping. it was locked. he expected this. he had the feeling you suspected he’d seen you or at least heard you last night because you were unusually fidgety around him earlier today.

he exhaled slowly, lowering himself down until his face was level with the keyhole, his breath shallow as he listened. the obscene sounds of your fingers working between your thighs were unmistakable, each wet stroke sending another pulse of heat straight to his cock. he knew you were thinking about him again. your boyfriend wasn’t here, who the fuck else would you be touching yourself to?

he let his hand trail down, palming himself over his sweats, but this time, it wasn’t enough. he needed more.

his fingers drifted down to his pocket, curling around the small, thin tool he’d stolen from mark’s junk drawer earlier. jeno wasn’t an idiot, he knew to be prepared this time. hearing wouldn’t do it for him, he needed to see you again.

he slid the tool into the keyhole, his other hand steadying the knob as he worked it. it wasn’t his first time picking a lock. he’d done it plenty of times as a teen, sneaking into forbidden rooms at school, usually to make out with random girls. but this was different. he was breaking into his stepsister’s room so he could watch her touch herself. his hands itched, his whole body thrumming with a dangerous kind of thrill.

the lock gave a quiet click and he held his breath trying to listen for any indication that you noticed. after he thought it was safe, he twisted the handle and pushed the door just enough to crack it open.

and fuck, what a sight it was.

you were sprawled on your bed, your legs were in a butterfly position this time, your skin glistening with sweat. your shirt was hiked up all the way giving him the perfect sight of your tits. your panties were pushed down completely and he could see the way your fingers disappeared inside you. his name started slipping from your lips again, breathy, ruined. he clenched his jaw, his cock started to throb painfully at the sight.

you were so fucking beautiful like this. needy, desperate, chasing a high that only he could truly give you.

he licked his lips, watching the way your back arched, your fingers curling inside you as you edged yourself closer. his own hand slipped into his sweats, wrapping around his length, stroking slow, lazy, savoring the moment. he should leave. should close the door and pretend this never happened. but instead, he kept watching, his lips parting in a silent exhale as he imagined once again what it would be like to replace your fingers with his own.

or better yet, his cock.

you had no idea he was here. no idea you were putting on a show just for him.

there was no way in hell he was going to stop now.

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

you’d been locking your door more often now. you weren’t sure why. it didn’t make sense, but the feeling just wouldn’t go away. the feeling that you were being watched.

maybe it was the fact that you thought you heard a moan outside your door the other night. or maybe the fact that your panties had mysteriously gone missing from the laundry basket. and there was only one other person living with you at the moment. you tried to tell yourself it was paranoia. after all, why would jeno do something like that? he didn’t have fantasies like you, right?

still, something felt different when he was around. especially when you bumped into him in the kitchen or living room. the tension was so thick as if the space between you was charged, waiting for something, or someone, to cross the line.

you tried to distract yourself, flicking through jersey shore reruns with half your mind still on him. but as soon as you heard footsteps approaching, your pulse spiked. your body clearly not knowing the difference between riding a roller coaster, and your stepbrother entering the room.

you glanced up, trying to force a bored expression. the moment your eyes landed on him, however, everything in you froze. his damp hair stuck to his forehead, a towel draped loosely around his neck. his sweatpants hung low on his hips, his boxers peeking, and the way his white shirt clung to his chest made it feel like the room was closing in around you.

you swallowed hard.

he caught your gaze, and for a split second, it felt like he saw right through you. like he knew what you were thinking, what you were feeling. but he didn’t say anything. he just walked over, sitting close enough that his leg brushed against yours. the space between you was so small, but it felt like a chasm, a void that you couldn’t bridge. you couldn’t move. not when your body was so painfully aware of him.

“you like this trash?” his voice was casual, but his eyes were anything but. they were on you, studying you.

you blinked, the question throwing you off guard. you hadn’t even realized he was talking about the show until he nodded toward it. “uh... yeah. it’s... entertaining,” you stammered, your voice sounding foreign in your own ears. you wanted to say more, to defend it, but the words wouldn’t come. your mind was fixated on him.

you tried to focus on the screen, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from him. his towel slipping from his shoulders, water droplets sliding down his neck and disappearing beneath the collar of his shirt. you could feel that familiar flutter in your lower stomach.

your fingers twitched, desperate to do something, anything, to alleviate the tightness.

jeno tilted his head slightly, his lips pulling into that almost imperceptible smirk, the one that made you want to either scream or crawl into him.

“what’s wrong?” he asked, his voice soft, but there was something dangerous underneath. “you look tense.”

you didn’t answer immediately. instead, you shifted uncomfortably, your pulse hammering in your ears. he didn’t push, but the way he was looking at you made you feel exposed, like he had you cornered.

suddenly, the doorbell rang, and you shot up from the couch like you’d been electrocuted. your pulse was still racing, your thoughts tangled in knots you didn’t want to acknowledge. this was good. maybe whoever was at the door would shake you out of this haze.

but the second you opened it, you almost wished you hadn’t.

your boyfriend…or ex? you didn’t even know anymore, stood there holding a single rose in one hand and a bag of snacks in the other.

“happy valentine’s day,” he greeted, flashing that charming smile he knew melted you.

your eyes widened. you’d been so distracted you totally forgot the date. damn you, lee jeno.

“i’m sorry i didn’t call in advance,” he pushed the rose into your hand and leaned to kiss you “and i know we agreed to take a break… still, i couldn't just not come today…”

he lifted the bag on his other hand. “movie?”

you forced a smile, your stomach twisting guiltily for a second. even though your relationship was a bit unstable as of late, valentine’s wasn’t something you ever wanted to half-ass so it was a good thing you’d planned ahead.

you bought his gift the previous week, carefully wrapping the box yourself because you wanted it to feel special. a pair of shoes he’d been eyeing for months, a new band for his apple watch since his favorite one had broken recently, and a handwritten letter tucked inside, detailing how much you appreciated him, how much you loved him. You even spent extra time decorating the envelope, adding little doodles and stickers just to make him smile.

you should've felt some kind of relief, his presence should distract you from the wild thoughts swirling in your head. but as you stepped aside to let him in, that sense of relief never came.

because the moment you turned back, you remembered jeno was still there on the couch. you silently willed him with your mind to go to his room, maybe leave altogether.

but of course he didn’t.

“oh. hey, dude” your boyfriend said as he finally noticed him. “didn’t know your brother was here.”

you winced. that word. brother. your tongue itched to correct him, but what was the point? he knew you weren’t really siblings. he just chose to say it anyway.

jeno let the word hang in the air before he finally stood up, stretching his arms over his head before settling into a straighter posture. he never stood that straight, but he was making sure to show that he was at least two inches taller than your boyfriend. It was a subtle move, but you saw it for what it was. a challenge.

you almost scoffed at the sheer pettiness of it.

“ah, hello…” jeno drawled. “sorry, remind me of your name again?”

your boyfriend told him, his tone polite but slightly stiff.

“right,” jeno said, half-smiling. “didn’t know we’d be having visitors today…”

your boyfriend cleared his throat. “ah, that’s my bad. i didn’t tell her I was coming since I wanted to surprise her for Valentine’s”

“hm,” Jeno hummed. “well... as long as you two keep it in the living room, should be fine. gotta look out for my little sister while the parents are out, you know?”

you squeezed your eyes shut for half a second, inhaling slowly, forcing yourself to stay calm. he never called you that. also, who did he think he was playing house police all of a sudden?

“sit down, babe,” you said, your tone so sweet it sounded forced.

jeno scoffed under his breath, soft enough that only you heard it.

you ignored it, settling onto the couch as he disappeared into the kitchen. your boyfriend sat beside you, oblivious, scrolling through movies, while you shoved a chip into your mouth just to distract your mind.

suddenly, you heard clattering from the kitchen followed by a curse.

“uh, y/n… can you come help me real quick?”

you squeezed your eyes shut.

“what did you break now?” you called, already exasperated.

"your mom’s china," he called back. "think i broke like two plates. maybe three. hard to say. pretty sure she’ll notice, though."

shit. you were on your feet before you could think, muttering a quick, “sorry, i’ll be right back,” as you hurried toward the kitchen.

the moment you stepped inside, irritation flared hotter in your chest.

“are you kidding me? what were you even doing near those? my mom explicitly said—” you voiced trailed off when you saw there was no broken china. no mess. nothing.

just jeno, standing there with his arms crossed, watching you with a smirk so infuriating you wanted to slap it off his face.

your hands curled into fists. “what are you doing?”

“really?” he ignored your glare, tilting his head mockingly. “he brought snacks and a single rose?” he let out a dry chuckle. “it’s valentine’s day for god’s sake, he could’ve at least tried.”

“i like simple things,” you shot back. “i don’t need a big fucking production”

jeno took a step closer making your breath get stuck in your throat. he wasn’t touching you, wasn’t even crowding you, but fuck he might as well have been, with the way your body tensed.

his voice dropped lower. “are you trying to convince me or yourself?”

he clearly wanted to get a reaction out of you and you refused to give it to him.

his gaze flicked down to your lips, pursed at him, and yet so pretty. he could still remember them parting and gasping his name last night.

"bet it gets tiring to pretend so much” he leaned in slightly.

you took a sharp step back.

“just… get out of my business,” you snapped, breath uneven.

jeno’s lips curled. “sure thing.” his eyes glinted with dark amusement. “hope you have fun with mr. buzzkill.”

your jaw clenched as you spun on your heel, storming back to the living room. who the hell did he think he was? since when did he have an opinion on your love life? he’d never cared before, never questioned, never even acknowledged it. so why now?

he kept pushing, prodding, playing with you.

and the worst part was that you were letting him. you knew you should ignore him. his opinion didn’t matter anyways.

so why couldn’t you stop paying attention to him?

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

you decided to push jeno out of your mind, and what better way than by surrounding yourself with people you actually liked?

a pool party seemed like the perfect distraction. it was nothing too crazy, just a few close friends from college. the weather had been unusually nice all week, the kind of warmth that made everything feel a little hazy, the sun kissing your skin as you lay stretched out on a lounge chair, still damp from your swim. it was the perfect excuse to bask in the sun, let the tension ease from your body, and pretend jeno didn’t exist.

jenny, lying beside you on her stomach, propped herself up on her elbows and let out an exaggerated sigh. “by the way, where’s your hot brother?”

you sighed, not even bothering to open your eyes. “stop calling him that. people might actually think i'm related to that jerk.”

“honestly, though,” natty chimed in, rubbing tanning oil on her arms. “how have you not jumped his bones yet? he’s so fine.”

you scoffed, finally cracking an eye open to glare at her. “he’s really not all that. if you guys lived with him, you wouldn’t think like this.”

jenny turned onto her side, her smirk downright sinful. “girl, if i lived with him i'd let him do unspeakable things to me every night.”

you fingers tightened around your drink as something hot and unwanted curled low in your stomach. if only they knew the things you did thinking about him late at night.

belle made a face from where she sat at the edge of the pool. “you guys are gross.”

jenny just shrugged, a sly smile tugging at her lips. “why? they’re not even related.”

belle wrinkled her nose. “yes, but they live together. it’s still weird.”

jenny hummed, resting her chin on her shoulder as she eyed you knowingly. “whatever, i meant what i said.”

“does he have a girlfriend?” natty asked, stretching her legs out as she adjusted her sunglasses.

you shrugged, taking another sip of your piña colada. “i don’t know. i mean, he barely leaves the house. i doubt he has much of a social life… probably the most socially inept guy i’ve ever met.” the words left your mouth lazily, but the moment they did, a shadow loomed over you, blocking out the sun.

you didn’t need to look up to know who it was.

you tilted your head back after a few seconds of silently cursing your big mouth. your heart did a million backflips as you locked eyes with jeno, who was now standing directly behind your chair. his head was tilted just slightly, a slow smirk playing at his lips.

you gulped slowly, and wished the chair would just swallow you whole. did he hear what you just said?

his gaze flickered over you, amused, but there was something heavier in the way his eyes traced over your bikini-clad figure. and then you realized he wasn’t in his usual hoodie and sweatpants. instead, he wore a fitted jean jacket over a graphic tee from a band you didn’t recognize, paired with tight black jeans. even his hair was styled, it looked like he got a fresh undercut, even added some designs on the side. he felt like an entirely different person. he looked good. too good.

“hello, ladies,” he greeted smoothly, his voice deep.

your friends giggled, but you barely registered them because jeno’s attention was back on you in a second.

“does dad know you’re having a party?” he asked, his voice had a teasing lilt to it, but there was something slightly patronizing underneath.

you rolled your eyes. “it’s just a few people.” get off my ass, you almost added but bit your tongue.

his smirk didn’t falter. “mhm… hope so, ‘cause he can see everything through those.” he pointed toward the security cameras, and something about the way he said it made irritation prickle at your skin.

he had the audacity to call your boyfriend a buzzkill, yet here he was, trying to kill any potential fun you could have.

“anyway,” he continued, “this socially inept guy is heading out.”

you breath caught in your throat. so he did hear you.

his eyes flickered over your body once more, and before you could respond, his hand brushed over your shoulder in a touch so fleeting, so meaningless, it shouldn’t have made your entire body lock up the way it did.

“call me if there’s an emergency,” he said. “be good, yeah?”

the second he was out of earshot, the giggles started back up, hushed and scandalized. your skin still burned where his touch had ghosted over you, and you hated that you wanted to turn your head, watch him leave, memorize the way he looked just now.

you swallowed hard, pressing your cold glass against your lips and forcing yourself to pretend that none of it affected you.

after several minutes of listening to your friends gush about jeno, how good he looked, how he smelled like expensive cologne, blah blah blah, you decided you’d had enough. you pushed yourself up from the lounge chair and made your way inside with the excuse of refilling your drink.

as you passed through the living room, a flicker of movement outside caught your eye. jeno was still there, standing near the edge of the sidewalk. his fingers dipped into his pocket, retrieving something small, and curiosity got the better of you. you squinted, trying to make out what he was holding.

despite knowing better, you grabbed a lightweight cover-up dress from the hook by the door and slipped it over your shoulders before stepping outside. the afternoon air carried the scent of chlorine and the faintest trace of citrus from the trees lining the house.

“since when do you smoke?” you asked, approaching him cautiously.

jeno turned his head slightly. the corner of his lips curled in that maddening way of his. without breaking eye contact, he placed the cigarette between his lips, the unlit end resting against the soft curve of his mouth.

“i don’t,” he said dismissively but then, he struck a match against his finger and the tiny flame came to life. the sight of it held your attention for just a second too long. probably because you’d never seen anyone light a match like that, or the fact that he was gaslighting you so casually.

“i thought you said you were going to hang out with friends,” you pressed, crossing your arms as you watched the flame kiss the tip of the cigarette.

“i said i was going to hang out,” he corrected, taking a slow drag before exhaling it in your direction, the smoke curling between you. “i didn't say with friends.”

you barely resisted the urge to cough, your throat tightening at the thick scent of tobacco. before you could call him out on this, the low rumble of an engine broke through the silence.

a black jeep screeched to a stop at the foot of your driveway, tires skidding slightly against the pavement. you instinctively took a step back as the vehicle came to a jarring halt. the tinted window rolled down, revealing a girl with jet-black hair that framed her face in glossy waves. he lips, painted a deep cherry red, curved into a smile that was just a little too perfect.

“sorry, i’m late!” she said, her voice airy, with a sing-song quality that immediately set your teeth on edge “there was so much traffic.”

“sure you didn’t just get pulled over for reckless driving?” jeno chuckled before taking another slow drag from his cigarette.

“mo, silly!” she giggled, her voice turning annoyingly flirtatious as she leaned a little closer over the window. “did you doll up just for me?”

“sure,” jeno replied casually. you didn’t catch the way his eyes flicked to you for just a split second because you were busy trying to mask the seething annoyance that was threatening to show in your expression. you didn’t even know this girl, and yet, the way she was acting was irritating you deeply.

“let me drive,” jeno said, pulling the door open for her to step out. you noticed the way she purposely wobbled slightly to fall directly into his arms.

“careful,” he said, his voice deep and resonant as he steadied her, the sound of it sending a heavy vibration through your chest.

“if your wet blanket of a boyfriend shows up later,” he continued once inside the car, his words laced with a hint of condescension, “just try not to fuck around in the pool, okay? remember, someone’s always watching.” the way he said that left a strange, uneasy knot in your stomach, the implication of his words lingering far too long.

before you could even muster a response, he slammed the jeep into gear and drove off.

it was around 9 pm when you decided to call it a night. your boyfriend hadn’t even shown up. he claimed he had to help his dad with “stuff” but you hadn’t really paid attention to the details. you weren’t interested in hearing excuses anyway.

your friends pouted, complaining that you should let them stay and have a sleepover, but you weren’t in the mood. they only left after you promised to do it another time.

you wandered upstairs, feeling the fatigue from the evening settle in your bones. the water from the shower was almost too hot, but you welcomed the burn as it stripped the chlorine from your skin. you lingered under the steam, savoring the quiet of the house.

once you were done, you meticulously moisturized your skin with extra attention to the dryness that clung to your arms after the pool and the heat of the shower. you threw on your usual pjs, a loose tank top and shorts. you thought of the way jeno’s dark eyes followed you whenever you wore them.

you made your way to the living room and sank onto the couch to watch tv, hyper aware of the ticking sound of the clock. the hands crept closer to 11 p.m. and you found your thoughts drifting despite your best attempts to focus. jeno’s face floated into your mind, his dark eyes flickering with amusement whenever he saw you. you tried to push it away but your mind kept returning to him and that girl with jet-black hair.

the sting of your nails digging into the palsn of your hands is what snapped you out of it. the thought of him with her… doing what? it didn’t even matter. why should it matter?

you decided to go to bed after realizing it was stupid to wait for him to come back.

it was around 2 am when you were jerked awake by the sound of shuffling outside your door. you heard a giggle followed by a hushed voice right before your door creaked open, and you quickly squeezed your eyes shut again.

"shit, wrong room," you heard jeno whisper, and your breath caught in your throat. you opened one eye just enough to see him standing in the doorway, the girl with jet-black hair practically draped around his neck.

she pulled him down into a kiss, and you watched, frozen, as they made out right there in front of your door. her soft moans echoed through the space along with the sounds of their hands fondling each other’s bodies.

they continued, oblivious to the fact that you were very much awake, until jeno finally pulled the door closed behind him, muffling the noises just enough for you to breathe again.

the anger hit you immediately, and the indignation that followed was almost comical in its intensity. with what face had he told you not to "mess around" at home because your parents were always watching, only to go and do this? right in front of your room, no less?

you heard the shuffle of movement in his room next door, and a chilling realization sank in.

they were about to have sex, and you’d hear every damn second of it.

it wasn’t like you’d never snuck your boyfriend in late at night before. But all you ever did was suck him off or let him finger you. you never actually had proper sex. not for lack of trying, but rather the issues you’d been having getting… aroused with him.

the moans started, soft at first, then louder. each sound felt like a needle, digging deeper into the pit of your stomach. you squeezed your eyes shut again, wishing, begging to be anywhere but within earshot of the noise that now felt like it was tearing your insides apart.

you could hear everything. the soft thuds of their clothes hitting the floor, the creak of the mattress as they fell onto it. jeno’s rough groans, the breathless whimpers he tried and failed to suppress. the wet, obscene sounds of him moving inside her. the desperate gasps, the frantic whisper of his name from her lips. their mouths meeting over and over again, the muffled, needy sounds of them colliding filling the space.

every movement, every noise, was painfully clear, as if you were right there in the room with them.

you wanted to disappear. crawl under your bed. evaporate into the walls. oh, the walls. the godforsaken, paper-thin walls that some sadistic architect clearly designed just to ruin your life.

you pressed a pillow over your head, begging for the sounds to stop, but it was useless. they only grew louder.

“jeno… i’m close,” she whimpered, voice high and shaking.

“cum for me…” he responded, breathless.

and suddenly, amidst the debauchery of sounds, you heard it.

your name.

spoken in a broken moan.

your breath stilled. for a second, you thought you must have imagined it, that your mind was playing a cruel trick on you. but then—

you heard it again. louder. needier.

jeno was calling your name as he came.

a paralyzing shock shot through you, pinning you to the mattress. your pulse hammering so hard you thought your heart might bruise your chest cavity. you stared at the ceiling, unblinking, as his moans settled over you like a suffocating weight.

silence followed, broken only by their uneven breaths. then you heard the rustle of sheets as they untangled from each other.

“can i stay the night?” the girl asked, her voice still heavy with satisfaction.

“no,” jeno said, voice oddly cold and detached. “my parents are gonna be here in the morning.”

that was a lie. your parents weren’t coming back until the following weekend.

you were still too shocked to move, too shaken to process what had just happened. but as you listened to her gather her things, to the sound of jeno walking her to the door without so much as an ounce of warmth in his tone, one thing became terrifyingly clear...

he hadn’t just used her. he’d been thinking about you while doing so.

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

you didn’t sleep. not for a single minute.

the shadows in your room shifted as the hours crawled by. it felt impossible to close your eyes without hearing it all over again. your name on his lips.

when your phone screen finally read 6:00 a.m, you gave up on sleep entirely, throwing off the sheets and slipping out of bed like a ghost.

you tiptoed down the stairs and into the kitchen, fingers numb as you grabbed a glass and filled it to the brim. the cold water slid down your throat in greedy gulps, but it did nothing to cool yourself.

then, a breathless laugh tore from your lips, unhinged and bitter. the sheer absurdity of it all crashed into you at once, like a sick joke the universe decided to play on you. jeno had been inside another girl, and yet, it was your name that spilled out of his lips.

the laughter bubbled up harder. it must have been loud enough to wake him, because a few moments later, footsteps padded into the kitchen.

jeno stood in the doorway, eyes heavy with sleep, brows pinched together as he took in the sight of you, your back was turned to him, shoulders trembling with laughter that didn’t seem to belong to you.

“the hell is wrong with you?” his voice was groggy.

you stopped, forcing the manic grin off your face before turning slightly away, shielding yourself from his scrutiny. god, if he saw the way you were smiling right now, he really would think you lost your mind.

“are you high?” he asked, a little more forcefully this time.

you let out a dry chuckle, shaking your head. i wish. maybe if you were high, this wouldn’t feel so real. maybe you wouldn’t still hear his voice in your head from the night before, broken and desperate, calling for you.

a shiver ran down your spine when you felt jeno move closer behind you. you could feel the heat radiating off his bare chest, the faint smell of sleep and last night’s scent clinging to him. his hand clamped down on your shoulder, turning you around with an impatient tug.

“no, seriously.” his voice was lower now, forcing you to meet his gaze. “did you do drugs last night?”

your breath hitched when his chest brushed against yours, and that’s when you remembered you weren’t wearing a bra. the thin fabric of your tank top did nothing to hide the way your nipples hardened at the contact.

you saw the flicker in his expression, the brief second of realization when his gaze dropped.

“what do you care?” you shot back instead, tilting your chin up defiantly.

you liked the way his jaw ticked when you pushed him.

his grip on your chin was sudden, firm, tilting your face until your eyes locked with his. his fingers were rough and the touch sent something dark and electric crackling under your skin.

you ripped yourself from his grasp, grimacing. “don’t touch me. i know where that hand has been.”

jeno laughed, a rich sound that made your throat close.

“oh, so you heard.”

you scoffed. “of course i heard. it was impossible not to when you were being so loud.”

his smirk deepened. “then you know my struggle.”

he stepped forward, pressed you further against the counter until there was barely any air between your bodies. this was the closest you had ever been to him.

your heart slammed against your ribs, but you refused to shrink away. if anything, it only made you glare harder, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing you falter.

“i hear everything you do in your room too.”

he paused, letting his finger curl around a stray hair falling over your face.

“every night.”

your lips parted, but nothing came out except a sharp inhale.

his eyes fluttered across your features, lingering on your lips, still wet from the water you just drank.

“wh-what…”

“yeah.” his grin grew sharper, his perfect teeth peeking out to tug at his lower lip. “every time you sneak your dumbass boyfriend in.”

his fingers brushed against the counter beside you, caging you in completely.

“every time you touch yourself…”

you swallowed, looking between his neck and shoulder, unable to meet his dark eyes.

“and you do that a lot lately.”

you gulped to soothe your dry throat, wishing he couldn’t somehow smell how aroused you were getting. you hated the way your body reacted to him, how your thighs pressed together on instinct. he noticed. the bastard always noticed everything.

he was still pressed so close you could feel the steady rise and fall of his hard chest against yours, the heat of his skin bleeding into yours like fire licking at gasoline.

“i—” you started, but your voice cracked.

jeno tilted his head, “what?” his voice was a murmur meant for just the two of you. his lips curved, but the smile wasn’t kind, it was wicked. “got nothing to say now?”

you clenched your jaw, forcing yourself to hold his gaze even as your stomach twisted into knots. “fuck you.”

his smile widened. “i mean, that’s what you always think about, isn’t it?” he murmured.

your breath caught in your throat. he leaned in, his lips so close to your ear that you felt the ghost of them graze your skin.

“you touch yourself thinking about me.”

a wave of heat crawled up your neck. you shouldn’t be reacting this way. shouldn’t be giving yourself away this easily.

you inhaled sharply, gathering every ounce of strength left in your body before shoving at his chest, pushing him away. he let you, barely stumbling back.

“go to hell, jeno.”

you turned on your heel, ready to storm out, to get as far away from him as possible—

but you barely made it two steps before his hand shot out, grabbing your wrist. he yanked you back against him, spinning you around so fast that you barely had time to register the shift before your back was against the counter again, his body crowding yours.

his grip tightened, but not enough to hurt just enough to hold you there.

"what are you doing?" you demanded, pressing a hand to his chest. "i have a boyfriend."

he laughed bitterly "oh, please. we both know he doesn’t even make you wet."

“how do you—?” you swallowed, barely able to get the words out.

the realization suddenly settled like lead in your gut. he read it. your blog. the one you used to vent frustrations you couldn’t say out loud, the one that held every unspoken insecurity, every late-night confession you never meant for anyone to see. every filthy thought about him.

and jeno of all people had gotten his hands on it. that’s why he’d been acting so strange lately.

your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, not pulling him closer, but gripping like you needed something to hold onto before you lost your mind.

his smirk deepened as he saw the expression of horror in your face.

“you should really clear your browser history,” he mused, tilting his head slightly. “or, better yet…maybe don’t keep the tabs open on a laptop you asked me to fix.”

the bastard wasn’t even sorry for invading your privacy.

your pulse roared in your ears as you tried to school your expression, trying to make it seem like you weren't two seconds away from spiraling.

“i don’t—” you started, but the words wouldn’t come.

he leaned in, voice dipping lower. “oh don’t quit on me now. you had plenty to say in that little blog of yours.”

his fingers traced your jaw softly.

“especially about me.”

he grinned, teeth grazing his bottom lip as he watched your reaction unfold in real time. “what was it you said?” he pretended to think. “oh, right. he pisses me off more than anyone else, but i bet he fucks like a god.’”

you shoved him again but he barely stumbled, just let out a low chuckle like he was thrilled by your anger.

“what’s wrong?” he taunted. “embarrassed?”

“shut up.”

“aww, c’mon, don’t be shy now. i read the whole thing, you’ve definitely thought about this exact moment before.”

you wanted to die. right there on the kitchen floor. just disintegrate and never have to endure the smug, self-satisfied look on his face ever again.

but worse than the embarrassment? worse than the rage twisting inside you like a coil ready to snap?

was the terrifying, undeniable truth.

he knew you wanted him.

jeno moved closer, and you instinctively backed into the counter, your hands gripping the cool edge.

his smirk was insufferable. giddy, almost.

“god, you should see your face right now,” he murmured, tilting his head. “all pink and flustered. just like i imagined.”

your eyes darted across his face in shock.

“oh yeah,” he continued, watching the realization flicker in your eyes. “you’re not the only one who’s fantasized about this, baby”

“i don’t fantasize,” you said quickly, hoping to salvage some dignity.

jeno just laughed. “save it.”

he reached up, tucking another stray strand of hair behind your ear, the way someone might handle something delicate, except the glint in his eye was anything but soft.

“i said i read everything,” he reminded you, voice dripping with satisfaction. “i even memorized that one post, the one where you talk about my fingers—”

“don’t,” you interrupted, slapping a hand over his mouth before he could finish that sentence.

bad move. because now his lips were pressed against your palm, his breath hot against your skin. and he didn’t pull away.

instead, his dark eyes locked onto yours making your pulse stutter. he reached up, prying your hand away from his mouth, but instead of letting it go, he brought it lower flat against his bare chest, over the steady thump of his heartbeat.

“i like knowing your secrets,” he murmured. “i like knowing what gets in that pretty little head of yours late at night.”

your stomach flipped.

“and you know what i like the most?” he dipped his head, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. “i like knowing that no matter how much you fight me on this,” he whispered, “you’ve already given yourself to me.”

his lips brushed from your ear down to the corner of your mouth, until finally, they met yours. you barely registered how easily your lips parted for him until his tongue slid in, claiming you. a groan slipped out before you could stop it.

you knew you should push him away. you should. but the thought barely even formed before it was gone, lost in the heat of his mouth.

"aren’t you gonna stop me?" he murmured, pulling back just enough to make you chase his lips.

you didn’t move, didn’t shove him away, didn’t say a damn thing.

his lips curled. "didn’t think so.”

then he kissed you harder, rougher. his fingers cradling your face while his other hand slid lower, gripping a handful of your ass. you gasped, and he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, pulling you flush against him.

his knee pressed between your legs, shifting just right, and you moaned. his lips curved against yours. "there’s my good girl."

heat flared up your spine, equal parts humiliation and arousal. some semblance of reason came over you and you pushed at his chest, but he caught your wrist, pinning it against the counter.

"you wrote about how bad you wanted me to take you right here in this kitchen," he murmured, his breath warm against your lips. "want me to remind you?"

"shut up," you groaned, twisting your wrist free and shoving at him properly this time.

he didn’t budge. he only laughed, nipping at your lower lip before angling your face up, kissing you deep and slow, like he had all the time in the world. his hand slid from your ass to your thigh, hiking it higher around his hip.

the new angle made you feel him, every inch of his hard length pressing right against your core, and you gasped. he thrust against you and the groan he let out sent a pulse of heat straight to your stomach.

"fuck," he rasped, pressing his forehead to yours, his hips rolling again. "you feel that?"

your fingers curled into his shirt, whimpers spilling out of you as he kept humping you.

jeno’s grip tightened on your thigh, fingers digging into your skin as he rocked against you, his breath hot against your lips. “look at you,” he murmured, voice thick with amusement and something darker. “clinging to me like this when you were just pretending to hate me a few minutes ago.”

you opened your mouth to argue, to deny, but all that came out was a sharp gasp as his hands slid under your tank top, fingers tracing lazy patterns up your ribs until they found your perked nipple. his knee pressed more insistently between your legs.

“jen—”

“shh.” he breathed against your lips. “you don’t have to say anything. your body’s already telling me everything i need to know.”

the way his lips ghosted over your jaw, then down your throat, made your breath hitch. you felt like you were drowning in the way he touched you, just enough to drive you crazy but not enough to give you what you really wanted.

“you’ve thought about this,” he mused, voice laced with satisfaction as he pressed a slow, open-mouthed kiss just below your ear. “haven’t you? late at night, when you’re all alone…”

your nails dug into his shoulders as he ground against you again, harder this time. he was right. and that infuriated you.

“jeno,” you hissed, half warning, half plea.

“say it,” he murmured against your skin, hands slipping lower. “say you want me.”

you couldn’t do that. you still wanted to cling to some semblance of dignity. but then his fingers slipped inside your shorts, and the illusion that you ever stood a chance shattered.

your gasp turned into a strangled moan as his fingers dipped between your soaked folds, tracing slow circles, teasing you with featherlight strokes that had you melting against him. his breath was hot against your temple.

“if you don’t want this,” he murmured, “then maybe we should stop.”

and just like that, he started to retreat, his touch vanishing like a cruel tease.

“no,” you choked out, your hand gripping his wrist before he could pull away completely. “don’t stop… please.”

he tilted his head, savoring every ounce of your desperation. “you sure?” he mused, feigning innocence even as his lips, swollen and slick, curled into something devilish. “because if you think this is wrong, we really should stop.”

the bastard was toying with you, and worst of all, you found it maddeningly hot.

your nails dug into his arm, your body thrumming with frustration and need. “jeno,” you warned, voice dangerously low. “if you don’t touch me right now, i’ll go upstairs and do it myself.”

you saw the moment his pupils dilated, a dark, almost feral hunger flashing in his eyes.

“oh, princess,” he crooned, his hand slipping back into your shorts in an instant, fingers resuming their torment with renewed urgency. “you really shouldn’t have said that.”

but instead of touching you like you needed, he yanked your shorts down, your panties dragging along with them in one swift motion. before you could form a single word, he hoisted you onto the counter with ease, the hard surface pressing into the backs of your thighs. your legs instinctively tried to close, but his grip tightened, keeping you open for him.

and then he dropped to his knees.

your stomach plummeted, anticipation coiling so tightly inside you that you felt dizzy. he looked up at you from beneath his thick lashes, eyes heavy-lidded, pupils blown wide with hunger. his hands dragged slowly up the inside of your thighs, spreading them further. his tongue darted out, wetting his lips like he was about to devour the best meal ever.

your walls clenched around nothing.

“jeno—” his name came out in a broken gasp.

“you’re shaking,” his breath ghosted over your core, making you jolt, making you ache. "what’s wrong, baby? nervous?"

the way his voice curled around the word baby, sent a fresh wave of heat straight between your legs. but you didn’t get the chance to answer.

because then he dove between your thighs.

the first stroke of his tongue had you gasping, hands flying to his hair as your head snapped back against the cabinets. the heat of his mouth had your body jerking before you could stop yourself, pleasure so intense it almost hurt.

his hands flexed against your thighs, spreading you wider, keeping you still as he licked deep into you. and when he groaned you nearly lost it. the vibration shot straight through you, your stomach clenching, your thighs twitching against his grip.

“jeno—” his name was barely a breath, a desperate sound that made him hum against you, pleased. he pulled back just enough for his lips to brush over your skin.

“god, you taste even better than i imagined” he rasped.

and then he was back on you, tongue working faster, fingers digging into your thighs like he needed this, like he was getting off on the way you gasped, the way your body trembled under his mouth.

he wasn’t just eating you out. he was devouring you.

his tongue moved in slow strokes, drawing out every whimper that spilled from your lips. you tugged at his hair, grinding down harder, but he just chuckled against you. cocky bastard.

“needy, huh?” he murmured between licks. “thought you could handle it.”

you barely registered his words, too caught up in the way he worked you open. but then he pulled away, making you gasp at the loss.

“jeno—” you started to protest, but he was already grabbing you by the waist.

“quit whining,” he smirked, hoisting you up easily. you yelped, legs locking around his hips as he strode toward the stairs. “you wanted this, didn’t you?”

your back hit the mattress a second later. you barely caught your breath before he tugged his pants down, the outline of his dick straining against his boxers.

jeno climbed onto the bed, gaze flicking over you with heat. you expected him to take you right then but he leaned back instead, hands behind his head.

“ride my face,” he said.

you froze, thinking he was joking for a second, but then you saw his his eyes and realized he was being completely serious. panic came over you, you’d never done this before, your boyfriend had never even eaten your out before, only fingered you. this was way more than that though.

“jeno—”

he raised a brow. “what, shy now?” his hands shot out, dragging you toward him. “c’mon, don’t start getting all sweet on me now.”

he positioned you right above his face. you swallowed, “jeno… i-i don’t know—“

“don’t worry baby, trust me”

and then he was spreading your legs further apart so you sank on his face slowly. his nose nuzzled between your folds first, the sharp line of it pushing against your core and making a guttural moan escape you.

his tongue followed, licking up and down, and prodding your entrance with insistence.

“oh, fuck—me” you whimpered, his hands on your hips guided you to press even harder against his face and even in your pleasure you worried he would drown in your cunt.

but when you looked down, there was nothing but pure bliss on his face, his eyes rolling back and his brows furrowed as he lapped relentlessly. it looked like he was enjoying this as much as you.

as your orgasm approached again, you couldn’t help but roll your hips against his face. the movement made his nose press further as his tongue continued licking long greedy strips against your clit.

“jeno—i...i’m—“ you moaned,

and your orgasm crashed over you with such a violent force it made you lean forward barely catching yourself with your arms before you could actually suffocate the boy under you.

you crawled down his body, your breath hitching as you took in the sight of his face glistening with your juices. his tongue swept out as he licked up every trace, dark eyes fixed on you.

his hands remained anchored on your hips, fingers flexing just enough to press you down against his body. you could feel him hard and burning through the thin fabric of his sweats. the instinctive grind of your hips had him exhaling a low chuckle. you wanted this, he wanted this, but something held you back. if you crossed this line… would you really be able to turn back?

you didn’t have time to find out because the sound of the doorbell ringing snapped you both out of your daze.

jeno blinked, looking toward the bedroom door. “seriously...?”

“shit—” you scrambled off him, tripping over your own limbs in the process.

“i’ll get it,” he offered, starting to sit up.

“no!” you shoved at his chest, pushing him back down. “your face, jeno— it’s covered in my—just—go wash it off!”

he grinned lazily. “didn’t hear you complaining a minute ago.”

“not the time!” you hissed, picking up your discarded clothes and putting them on.

jeno started, “i read somewhere that cum is really good for your skin—”

you didn’t dignify that with a response, slamming the door shut on your way out. your reflection in the living room mirror was a disaster: hair tousled, lips kiss-swollen, fresh marks blooming along your neck. you tugged your collar up and plastered on what you hoped passed for a normal expression before opening the door.

and promptly felt the ground vanish under you when you saw who was standing outside.

“hey, beautiful” your boyfriend said.

your mouth went dry. “oh. wow. hi—”

he held up a bouquet. “i realized we didn’t really do anything special for valentine’s, and you were so thoughtful with your gifts…” his other hand revealed a small box.

your heart twisted at the sight.

“figured you deserved something nice after everything you’ve done for me.” he opened the box to reveal a delicate necklace, your initial glinting in tiny diamonds. “also, i wanna take you out today”

you swallowed. “it’s... beautiful, thanks.”

“here.” he stepped forward, gently brushing your hair aside to fasten it around your neck. his fingers grazed your skin then stopped.

“you’ve got a mark,” he said, frowning. his thumb skimmed over the hickey, sending your pulse into overdrive.

“mosquito bite,” you blurted.

he raised an eyebrow. “looks... aggressive.”

“it was a big mosquito,” you managed with a nervous laugh.

“massive, actually” came jeno’s voice.

you turned just as he was descending the stairs, towel-drying his face and now dressed in…god help you, only sweatpants. fresh hickeys also peppered his collarbone and chest.

your boyfriend’s smile tightened. “hi, man. hope i didn’t wake you.”

jeno shrugged. “nah, i was just eating a delicious meal.” his gaze flicked to you with something too close to amusement.

you fought the urge to kick him in the balls. “so! you said something about... going out?” you blurted, trying to shift the topic.

“uh... yeah. a new amusement park opened up nearby. thought we could check it out.”

“sounds amazing! i’m in!” anything to get out of this situation.

“i’ll just… shower real quick,” you said, stepping back.

“i’ll put the flowers in water,” your boyfriend offered, heading toward the kitchen.

as soon as he disappeared, you turned to jeno and hissed, “are you insane?”

he chuckled. “i didn’t even do anything.”

“you’re standing there shirtless covered in hickeys i don’t even remember giving you!” you whisper-yelled.

“yeah you went a little crazy, who knew you wanted me this bad?”

you shot him a glare. “this isn’t funny.”

“it’s a little funny.”

you let out an exasperated sigh, rubbing your face. “god, you’re impossible.”

jeno leaned in just enough for you to feel the warmth of him. “wouldn’t be nearly as fun if i wasn’t.”

you shook your head and darted upstairs, pulse still racing. what the hell was your life right now?

you gave yourself only twenty minutes to get ready, worried about leaving your boyfriend alone with jeno for too long. god only knew what kind of things jeno might say if left unchecked. you quickly threw on a pair of high-waisted jeans and a knitted sweater, keeping it simple with just a swipe of lip gloss and a touch of mascara.

when you came downstairs, you found them sitting at opposite ends of the couch. jeno was scrolling through his phone, legs spread out, a bored look on his face. your boyfriend was leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees, glancing around as if searching for a conversation topic that didn’t involve glaring across the room.

“i’m ready,” you announced, trying to break the awkward tension hanging in the air. both boys looked up.

you noticed Jeno had changed into fitted jeans and a black t-shirt.

“i hope you don’t mind,” your boyfriend said, his smile too stiff to be genuine, “but i invited jeno to come with us.”

“what?” your head snapped to jeno, who didn’t even have the decency to look guilty.

“yeah,” jeno said, casually running a hand through his hair. “a few of my friends are heading there too, so i figured we could all hang out.”

“oh… how nice,” you muttered through clenched teeth. jeno just smirked, waiting for you to snap in front of your boyfriend but you held back, drawing in a calming breath and turning toward the door instead.

outside, your boyfriend wiped a tiny smudge off the driver’s side door of his car with meticulous care. jeno scoffed audibly.

your boyfriend paused, glancing over his shoulder. “jeno, do you have a car... or do you wanna ride with us?”

“my car’s in the shop,” Jeno replied without missing a beat.

“oh yeah? what do you drive?”

“a ’69 mustang fastback,” jeno said smoothly, shoving his hands in his pockets.

your boyfriend’s lips parted slightly. you knew he was impressed—he loved cars—and even if he tried to play it cool, the way his eyes widened gave him away. “that’s a classic. was it your dad’s?”

“nope.” jeno grinned. “saved up since high school and bought it myself at the barrett-jackson auction last year.”

your boyfriend’s eyebrows shot up. “that’s... actually really impressive.”

yeah, jeno thought, satisfaction bubbling in his chest. he lived for moments like this, when people looked at him like he was something special. he just couldn’t let it slip that his dad had footed most of the bill for the car’s custom work. it wasn’t like he asked for that help, but there was no way he was turning it down either. and he sure as hell wasn’t about to admit that in front of your boyfriend. not when the guy was looking at him with something close to respect. honestly, jeno kind of liked having that edge over him.

you could practically see the mental competition unfolding in front of you. jeno stood there like he’d just scored a point, while your boyfriend’s jaw tightened, clearly thinking of how to reclaim the upper hand.

“are you guys done with the dick-measuring contest, or should i grab a ruler?” you asked, arms crossed.

jeno laughed under his breath. your boyfriend glanced away, muttering, “yeah, yeah, let’s go.”

the ride was somehow worse than you expected. normally, when you’d ride with your boyfriend, the car was filled with pleasant conversation. he’d ask about your day and tell you about his… but now, with jeno in the backseat, the air felt suffocating. not even the faint music playing on the radio could ease your discomfort.

“were you sleeping before i came?” your boyfriend asked, glancing at you briefly before focusing back on the road.

you tensed. sleeping? far from it. you’d most definitely come before he arrived, and now your face burned with the memory. you shot a quick look over your shoulder at jeno, hoping to gauge if he was going to say something incriminating. he was scrolling through his phone, but the corner of his mouth curled up in that stupid smirk of his.

“uh… no,” you said, clearing your throat. “i couldn’t sleep very well last night, so i just had an early breakfast.”

“ah,” your boyfriend hummed. “and your parents are back sunday, right?”

“yeah,” you replied, grateful for the change in subject.

the silence that followed wasn’t comfortable. your boyfriend tapped the steering wheel rhythmically, occasionally glancing at you like he was expecting conversation but you were too busy trying not to spontaneously combust from how tense everything felt.

he reached over and turned on the car’s bluetooth. “let’s put on some music,” he muttered, scrolling through his playlist. he settled on a song, and you relaxed until you recognized the beat a split second before the lyrics started.

"thoughts of you keep me up at night..."

heat immediately started creeping up your neck. of all the songs... and of all the lyrics to play right now.

"i think about all of the ways you turn me on... and my bed gets lonely whenever you’re gone..."

you stiffened, eyes wide as you stared out the window. you could feel jeno’s gaze burning into the side of your face, and when you dared to glance back, you saw his eyes fixed on you, an eyebrow raised like this was the funniest thing to ever happen. your boyfriend, oblivious to the lyrical implications, simply tapped along to the beat.

you reached for the phone. “let’s put something else—”

“what? you don’t like this song?” your boyfriend asked, glancing at you with a smile.

“it’s… just—” you floundered. jeno chuckled under his breath.

“leave it,” Jeno said. “I think it’s pretty relatable.”

your boyfriend shot him a look through the rearview mirror probably wondering what he meant.

you squeezed your eyes shut, praying for the ground to swallow you whole. why did the drive feel like it was taking forever?

when you arrived at the amusement park, you were pleasantly surprised to see jenny and natty waiting near the entrance, drinks already in hand.

“we’re the masterminds behind this whole thing, by the way” jenny grinned, looping her arm through yours when you reached her.

“yeah,” Natty added, slipping in on your other side. “we told him he was an idiot for not doing something nice for you on saturday, so this is his redemption, and we’re here as the judges.”

the revelation should’ve surprised you—maybe even disappointed you—but it didn’t. things with your boyfriend had been...off lately. neither of you was really trying, and you couldn’t blame him for that when you weren’t putting in much effort yourself.

still, you plastered on a smile. this is supposed to be fun, you reminded yourself. and it was, you went on nearly every ride. your boyfriend, though, wasn’t a big fan of fast rides due to his motion sickness, and you didn’t miss the way jeno scoffed every time he turned down your suggestions to ride together.

you were heading toward the food stalls when something caught your eye. “ooh! let’s do that one!” you pointed to a shabby building draped in fake cobwebs and flickering lights. a crooked sign above the entrance read bloody encounter in dripping red letters.

jenny made a face. “why would you willingly do that to yourself?”

“come on,” you urged, tugging her arm. “it’ll be fun! i saw a video of it on instagram! it looks insane.”

“that’s exactly why i don’t want to go,” jenny shot back, glancing warily at the entrance.

natty, wide-eyed, whispered, “have you seen that movie where a group of friends goes into a haunted house, and there’s an actual killer inside?”

“that’s literally a movie,” you said, but your attempt at sounding confident fell flat when natty added, “it was based on real-life events.”

you rolled your eyes but glanced over your shoulder at your boyfriend trailing behind. he looked at the ride and grimaced.

“eh... i don’t know, babe,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “you know i hate this kind of stuff.”

you visibly deflated and before you could respond, another voice cut in. “i’ll go with you,” jeno said, stepping forward, hands stuffed into his pockets.

“I—” you started to object, nerves twisting in your stomach. jeno? alone? no way. that felt like walking into a trap. “weren’t you going to meet up with your friends?” you tried, hoping to backpedal.

“they texted that they got a flat on the way here, so it’ll be a while before they arrive” he shrugged.

“you two have fun,” jenny said, already pulling natty away. “we’ll grab food in the meantime.” natty threw you a look that screamed good luck before disappearing into the crowd.

your boyfriend lingered. “you sure you’re gonna be okay?” he asked, eyes darting to jeno, whose expression remained unreadable except for the subtle roll of his eyes.

“yeah,” you lied, forcing a reassuring smile. “i’ll be fine. see you in a bit.”

stepping through the entrance, you were swallowed by darkness. the air was thick with the artificial scent of fog machines and that weird plasticky smell of cheap props. distorted laughter and screams echoed through the narrow halls, looping over speakers that crackled with static.

beside you, jeno looked about as thrilled as someone waiting in line at the dmv. he glanced around, gaze skimming lazily over the walls. "spooky," he deadpanned.

"wow, you're really committing to the whole fun-hater thing," you shot back, glancing over your shoulder. you knew something was about to jump out, it was just a matter of when. "if you hate this so much, why'd you come?"

“figured your dumbass boyfriend wouldn’t,” he shrugged, mouth quirking into something between a smirk and a sneer. "someone had to make sure you didn’t cry."

“excuse me—”

BANG!

a hidden panel to your left slammed open and a clown with cracked white paint on its face and red bulging eyes lunged out, blaring a horn right in your face. your soul practically left your body as you screamed and instinctively grabbed onto the nearest thing which, unfortunately, was jeno.

he didn’t even flinch, his arm simply went around your shoulders, comforting you even as your heart tried to beat out of your chest. you looked up, breath catching when you met his gaze. his eyes flicked down to where you were clutching his hoodie before lifting back to yours.

you pushed away, but his hand didn’t fall away immediately. it trailed from your shoulder down to the small of your back, you felt his warmth seep through the fabric of your sweater.

"so," he drawled, "should i hold your hand for the rest of this?"

“i swear to god…”

“—because i don’t mind”

“keep talking and i’ll feed you to the next clown,” you shot back.

he snorted. "like you’d make it through this without me."

you flipped him off without looking back, which earned a low chuckle in response. you stalked ahead, determined to focus on not tripping over the uneven floor, but his footsteps stayed close behind. annoyingly close.

the mirror maze was where things went downhill. everywhere you turned, warped reflections of you and jeno stretched and twisted in the glass. dark shapes flickered just out of sight, and the speakers just made everything worse by echoing whispers that felt like they were breathing down your neck.

your reflection twisted, making your head look three times too big. jeno snorted. “look, they got your good side.”

“bite me” you said, peering around a corner. your reflection multiplied into a dozen versions of you, all looking equally pissed.

“tempting,” he muttered, mostly to himself.

jeno’s fingers suddenly wrapped around your wrist and he tugged you in the opposite direction.

“it’s this way,” he said.

“how would you know?”

“we’ve been stuck in here for like ten minutes,” he cut in. “you’re clearly not the best guide.”

you bit your tongue, resisting the urge to snap back.

jeno pointed at a door partially concealed by a tangle of fake cobwebs. “that’s gotta be the exit.”

“that looks deliberately hidden,” you said, eyeing it warily. something about it seemed off.

“well,” he shrugged, “either we try that or we keep wandering in circles. your call.”

fine. you followed him, trusting—against better judgment—that his instincts were better than yours.

they weren’t.

the door creaked open to reveal a forgotten section of the attraction with dust-covered boxes, broken props tossed in corners, and walls lined with peeling fake blood. the air smelled like damp cardboard and stale fog machine fluid.

“...okay,” he said, unfazed. “so not the exit.”

“wow. color me shocked.”

he shot you a look. “didn’t hear you coming up with better options.”

you rolled your eyes and turned back to the door. “whatever, let’s just—”

it didn’t budge. frowning, you tried again, putting more weight into it. nothing.

your pulse quickened. “uh... jeno?”

“what?”

“the door’s stuck.”

“just turn the handle—”

“i am!” frustration and panic crept into your voice. “i know how to open a damn door!”

“move.” he gently nudged you aside, grabbing the handle. he twisted while shoving his shoulder into it but the door held firm “...shit.”

your stomach dropped. this wasn’t funny anymore. “no, no, no… this can’t be happening.” you raked a hand through your hair.

jeno stepped back, scanning the room like there might be another way out. “it’s gotta be part of the attraction… like some escape room or…”

“yeah? you really think they’d make a whole escape room and hide it behind a side door that was clearly not supposed to be opened?” your voice cracked, breath coming quicker now.

he glanced at you, expression shifting. “hey.” his tone dropped, calmer. “don’t freak out.”

easy for him to say. your brain was already spiraling. you were locked in some creepy back room of a haunted house... with him.

you leaned back against the door, shutting your eyes as you tried to calm your racing heart.

“do you have your phone?” you asked, voice tight as you pushed away from the door and walked toward him.

he patted his back pocket and pulled out his phone, holding it up before showing the dead screen. “no battery.”

you let out a frustrated sigh, rubbing your temples. “of course.”

“the staff will probably notice we never came out,” he said, glancing around the dimly lit room. “they’ll be looking for us soon.”

“i didn’t even see anyone else besides that clown,” you muttered. “this is what i get for coming in here with you.”

“what’s that supposed to mean?” his voice dropped a note lower, and when you looked up, he’d stepped closer. your back nearly hit the door again, tension sparking between you like static electricity.

“you’ve clearly upset some kind of energy around me, and that’s why all these things keep happening,” you snapped, trying to push away the sudden awareness of how little space there was between your bodies.

“are you being for real right now?” he chucked bitterly, dark eyes flicking to your lips for a fraction of a second before meeting your eyes again. “you’ve been writing dirty fantasies about me for months but i’m the one somehow upsetting your energy?”

heat surged to your face, both from anger and embarrassment. “and that’s all they were! fantasies!” you shot back, voice rising. “i never wanted you to read those.” your breath came quicker. his proximity was messing with your ability to think straight.

“yeah?” he leaned in, close enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath. the playful glint in his eyes burned away, leaving something far more dangerous. “you say that like you didn’t mean every goddamn word.”

your fingers curled into fists at your sides. "is now really the time for this?"

“how come my presence didn't bother you when my mouth was between your legs?” he growled.

your hand shot up, ready to shove him away but he caught your wrist, pinning it above your head. your heart kicked into overdrive.

“not here,” you breathed, but it was weak, barely convincing.

“nobody’s around,” he rasped, chest flush against yours. “and you don’t really want me to stop.”

his lips dragged along your neck greedily, teeth scraping your skin before his tongue soothed the sting. your knees nearly gave out.

“jeno—fuck—we can’t,” you gasped, even as your hips arched toward him, desperate for friction.

“i’m sure i can make you cum before anyone shows up,” he promised, voice like rough velvet.

then he grabbed your thigh, hauling your leg around his waist and shoving his hips against you. the contact had you gasping, heat blooming everywhere at once. his grip was bruising, grounding you and shattering you all at once.

“you have no idea—” his breath was ragged, words spoken between gritted teeth, “—how fucking hard it was to sit back and watch you with him. i wanted to drag you away and remind you exactly whose tongue had you shaking mere hours ago.”

that snapped something inside you. your fingers twisted in his hair, pulling him in as his mouth crashed against yours. his hips rolled, grinding against you in rough motions that stole every coherent thought from your brain.

you should stop. you should care about where you were or the fact that your boyfriend was waiting for you outside, but the way he was touching you, kissing you, claiming you.

he pressed you hard against the wall, hands pulling at your sweater with urgency. the second it was off, his mouth was on you, sucking against the lace of your bra. his groan was barely controlled.

“fuck, so fucking perfect,” he muttered, his words shaky. his gaze was hungry as he tore your bra off, his lips tracing the curve of your chest.

his mouth found your nipple, sucking hard. your back arched and a gasp slipped from you.

“god, perfect tits,” he growled. his hands were shaking now, and there was no control in his voice, just raw need.

without warning, he pulled your pants off, almost knocking you off balance. you barely steadied yourself before he turned you around, shoving you forward. Your hands gripped the wall for support, and you felt him push his erection against your ass.

“fuck, gonna make you feel so good. better than your fingers ever could. let me fill you up” he groaned, his voice desperate. you could feel how hard he was even through his jeans.

you bit your lip, refusing to let him have the satisfaction of knowing just how much you wanted him. before you could look back, his hand was on your jaw, turning your head to face forward.

“be good and i’ll let you look,” he growled, his breath hot against your ear.

he pulled your panties aside, the fabric stretching tight against you. it felt like it might snap any second, but before the thought could even settle, his finger was buried in your folds. the cool touch of his rings against your heat made you gasp, your body shuddering in response.

“oh god,” you mewled.

if your mind was clear enough to process anything, you’d laugh at how absurd this was. your fantasies, the ones you’d written about in your blog, were unfolding before your eyes, all within a day.

“barely even touched you, and you’re already dripping like this?” his voice was laced with amusement, though there was a growl beneath it.

“jeno, please don’t… tease me.” the words barely left your mouth, a plea you couldn’t hold back.

he smirked, his thumb brushing over your sensitive spot as he circled your clit. “i thought you were the one who didn’t want to do this here,” he taunted.

“please,” you whispered, barely able to form a coherent thought.

he chuckled, drawing another slow circle, teasing you, making you ache. every motion of his finger made your body respond, pushing your hips back instinctively. “so eager,” he muttered, his mouth hot against your shoulder.

his finger plunged inside you, and before you could adjust, another joined. he pulled them out slowly, spreading the slickness of your folds across your skin, making you squirm in desperation. you felt the pressure of his cock growing against your ass, and you clenched around his fingers, your walls yearning for more.

“ready for me, baby?” his voice was low, dark, almost a growl, and you nodded, mind too fogged to say anything.

he spread your legs wider, forcing you open for him, giving him better access. you felt the tip of his cock swipe against your folds, teasing the entrance, and you couldn’t help but steal a glance down. his pre-cum smeared against you, mixing with your slickness.

“when i’m done with you, you won’t even remember who came before me…” his words were gruff, hot against your hair.

and then, just like that, he thrust inside. you heard him inhale sharply as your gummy walls welcomed him, stretching around him, pulling him deeper. he felt thick, too thick, and you weren’t sure if he was all the way in, but the fullness was overwhelming. his body pushed against yours, your legs trembling under the weight of him, but he wasn’t stopping.

one hand snaked around your waist, pulling you closer as jeno continued to push deeper. your moans grew louder, and with each thrust your inhibition was slipping away. it felt too good to care about being caught, to think about anything else but the feeling of being so full.

but then, just as you were losing yourself completely, the sound of footsteps and distant voices jerked you back to reality.

“guys, they probably already came out,” you recognized jenny’s voice, and you froze.

“y/n isn’t picking up her phone,” your boyfriend’s voice followed, too close, so close you could practically feel him in the room.

you pushed weakly against jeno, trying to make him pull out, but he wasn’t paying attention. instead, he thrust into you again, harder, his cock pressing into you so deeply that you bit your tongue to hold back the moan threatening to slip out.

“that’s cause i have it,” natty’s voice rang out, innocently. “she gave it to me when she went on the roller coaster earlier.”

jeno’s hand moved to cover your mouth, muffling the sounds you couldn’t stop from escaping. he continued to pound into you, relentless, while pulling you flush against his chest, his pace steady but punishing. panic clawed at your throat as your breath quickened.

“when were you gonna tell us that...?” jenny’s voice sounded sharp, you could even picture the scowl that came with it.

“did you try jeno?” your boyfriend asked, the concern in his tone making the situation even more unbearable.

“we don’t have his phone number,” natty replied casually.

“i do,” Jenny said, her voice almost sheepish.

jeno’s hips stuttered for a brief moment, the pace slowing as he briefly pulled away from you. you thought he was stopping but before you could even react, he spun you around, forcing you to face him. his forehead glistened with sweat, his lips swollen from how hard he’d bitten them, his breath labored.

“what? since when?” natty asked, her voice sounding confused but amused.

“i stole it from y/n’s phone,” jenny muttered quickly. “don’t tell her, though.”

before you could even process her words, jeno thrust back into you, pressing you into the wall with each brutal stroke. the wall rattled violently with every movement and you could barely form the words to warn him.

“j-jeno, stop… they… they’re gonna hear us,” you gasped. your whole body felt like it was being torn apart in the best way, but the fear of being caught made it impossible to enjoy it fully.

“let them,” he growled against your ear, his grip tightening on your waist. “let your boyfriend know i’m the only one who can make you cum.”

you couldn’t help the loud whimper that came out when he said that.

“did you guys hear that?” your boyfriend’s voice rang out, sharp with suspicion.

your eyes widened in sheer panic, your body stiffening around jeno. but instead of stopping, he only smirked, still buried deep inside you. the bastard was enjoying this.

his hand trailed down, fingers finding your clit, and the second he started rubbing tight circles, your head lolled back involuntarily. another strangled whimper escaped before you could stop it. the feeling of his fingers working you over while he continued driving into you relentlessly had you seeing white.

“what?” natty asked, her voice tinged with unease.

jeno didn’t stop, his movements staying controlled except for the way his breath hitched when your walls fluttered around him. his lips parted slightly, a muscle in his jaw twitching as he fought to keep from moaning out loud.

“it sounded like… a person?” your boyfriend said, his voice closer now.

your head snapped up in terror, eyes locking onto jeno’s, silently pleading with him to stop. but he wasn’t even looking at you. his teeth were digging into his lower lip, dark eyes fixed on where your bodies were joined, watching the way he disappeared inside you over and over again.

“it’s probably just the scary audio replaying on the speakers,” Jenny suggested.

“and that rattling sound?”

jeno’s eyes flicked up at that, finally registering your panic. without pulling out, he wrapped an arm around your waist and lifted you off the wall effortlessly, carrying you a few paces away before pressing you down onto an old, dusty table.

before you could even think to protest, he shoved your knees up and entered you again, deeper this time, making you arch off the surface with a muffled cry. your teeth sank into the flesh of your hand to keep the noises in.

the table creaked with each sharp thrust, dust kicking up into the air around you. tears pricked your eyes, whether from pleasure, mortification, or both, you weren’t sure.

“maybe rats or something,” jenny suggested, her voice fading as she moved further away. “who cares? let’s just go. they’re not here anymore.”

the moment the voices started retreating, jeno leaned over you.

“we almost got caught,” he whispered, his teeth grazing your earlobe “...and you’re still fucking dripping around me.”

you didn't even get to feel embarrassed by his words because soon he was already moving again harder, deeper, like he needed to make up for the interruption. the table kept creaking under the force of his thrusts, and your fingers scrambled for something to hold onto.

when you looked down, your breath hitched at the sight of his cock drilling into you over and over, slick coating both of you in a wet mess. you were mesmerized by the sharpness of his hip bones, the way his veins bulged with every flex of his muscles.

you wanted to touch. you needed to.

your fingers twitched with the urge. why is he still so covered? you’d seen him shirtless before, had spent far too long secretly admiring the cut of his abs, but seeing and feeling were entirely different. you wanted to feel them ripple under your hands, to feel the heat of his skin against your palms.

driven by that need, you pushed up on your elbows, reaching for the hem of his shirt. he didn’t stop you, just watched with dark eyes and parted lips as you dragged the fabric up, exposing smooth skin and the taut muscles beneath. your fingers splayed over his stomach, feeling how hard he was clenching, how his body responded to you.

jeno tensed the moment your hands made contact with his skin, a sharp inhale hissing through his teeth. his hips faltered for a second before slamming back into you with even more force. your breath stuttered, and when you looked up, his eyes were already locked onto yours, pupils blown wide with something wild.

suddenly, he leaned forward and his lips crashed into yours, all-consuming. a deep grunt rumbled from his chest as he licked into your mouth, greedy and desperate, sucking at your tongue like he couldn’t get enough of your taste. you gasped, clutching at his shoulders, your fingers digging into the sweaty skin under his shirt.

he groaned against your lips, voice ragged. “you—” another thrust, deeper this time, knocking the air from your lungs. “—are driving me fucking crazy.”

you felt your orgasm building fast, your breath catching as pleasure coiled tight in your stomach. words tumbled out of your mouth, barely coherent, dissolving into soft gasps as your body clenched around him. jeno moaned against your lips, his hand sliding back to your chest, fingers toying with your nipple. his hips didn’t slow, driving into you with almost manic thrusts that had your head spinning.

“fuck, i’m close,” he breathed out, voice rough in your ear. “where do you want it?”

you blinked through the pleasure, brain too sluggish to register the question. when it did, warmth flooded your cheeks. you were on the pill and the thought of him stuffing you up with his cum, just like you’d written about, made your walls flutter instinctively. “inside,” you said, voice barely above a whisper.

jeno’s jaw flexed, his gaze darkening. “yeah?” his pace quickened, rougher now, his lips brushing against your neck. “couldn’t wait for me to fill you up, hm?” his words melted into a groan when you clenched around him.

“jeno—i—” the rest of the sentence dissolved into a cry as your orgasm crashed over you violently. your body arched into him, trembling.

he wasn’t far behind. you felt his rhythm stutter before warmth flooded you, his hips pressing deep as he let out a low, drawn-out moan. his lips found yours again, kissing you slowly, even as both of you tried to catch your breath.

when he finally pulled back, his gaze held yours for a while. you wanted to ask what he was thinking, but the words stuck in your throat.

you felt him slip out of you along with the slow drip of hia cum trailing down your thighs. he reached for your discarded underwear, swiping it between your legs with surprising gentleness before, without hesitation, tucking it into his back pocket.

“hey—” you started to protest, but the look he shot you shut you up fast. apparently, those were his now.

a few quiet minutes passed, both of you fixing your clothes, when the door groaned open. you flinched as an older staff member peeked in, eyes widening upon spotting you two.

“what on earth are you two doing in here?”

you quickly stepped forward, feigning wide-eyed innocence. “so sorry, sir! we got lost trying to find the exit, and then the door jammed. thank you for helping us”

“yeah. where’s the way out?” jeno added, right behind you.

“just head left twice. you’ll see the exit sign.” the man shook his head, muttering something under his breath as he waved you off.

“thanks again!” you called, already pulling jeno with you. once outside, the cool night air hit your flushed skin, and you wrapped your arms around yourself with a shiver.

“if we’d followed my directions,” you said, glancing sideways at him, “we would’ve been out a while ago.”

jeno’s jacket appeared over your shoulders before you could argue further. “yeah,” he smirked, eyes glinting under the neon lights. “but then we wouldn’t’ve had all that fun, would we?”

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated <3 my inbox is always open for any feedback about the fic or if you just wanna talk

support me here if you want (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡

[mingoooossii]

― biker! jeno with an s/o who likes cute things !

genre: fluff | warnings: none | words: 690 | @fantasia-films | @daydreamnet

a/n: came to me all of a sudden it's just so cute 🥹 i couldn't help but write it and I missed this man sm like wdym i haven't written for jeno yet....

⋆ 𐙚 ̊.𝜗𝜚

Jeno was not soft.

That’s what everyone believed.

He was the kind of man who leaned against his bike like it was an extension of him, black leather, quiet eyes, a presence that made people step aside without being asked. His voice was low, his expressions minimal, and when he looked at someone too long, they usually looked away first.

No one had ever seen him hesitate.

Until you.

You, who walked into his life like a burst of color he didn’t know he was missing. Soft ribbons, glossy lips, skirts that swayed like petals, everything about you, bright and alive. Pink bags, glittering charms, frilly sleeves, things that had no place in his world of engines and asphalt.

And yet, somehow, you fit.

No, you made everything else feel like it had been wrong before you arrived.

The first time you clung to his arm, eyes sparkling over something as simple as a tiny keychain in a shop window, he just… stood there. Silent. Watching. Processing.

“Jeno, look! It’s so cute, right?” you’d said, holding it up like it was treasure.

He should’ve shrugged it off. Instead, he bought it.

And then another.

And another.

It didn’t take long before it became a habit, bringing you little things. Trinkets, charms, anything that made your face light up the way it did. He didn’t even question it anymore. If it reminded him of you, it was already yours.

The others noticed.

Of course they did.

Because this was Lee Jeno, the same guy who once stared down a group twice his size without blinking.

And now he was standing outside your place, holding a tiny pastel box like it was something fragile 🥹

“Hyung… is that a ribbon?” Jisung had asked once, half horrified, half fascinated.

Jeno didn’t even flinch. “She likes it.”

That was explanation enough.

The real shock came when they saw you together.

You, bouncing on your heels, fingers tugging at his sleeve, talking about something animatedly. And him?

Listening.

Eyes softer than ever, the faintest smile tugging at his lips. The same lips that usually pressed into a straight line like the world wasn’t worth reacting to.

And then you’d look up at him, just one look, and he’d melt.

It was subtle. If you didn’t know him, you might miss it. But to those who did, it was visible.

Because the man who could make others nervous with a glance… was now completely at your mercy.

⋆ 𐙚 ̊.

The bike was the biggest giveaway.

His pride. His space. Untouchable.

Or at least, it used to be.

“Can I decorate it a little?” you had asked one day, voice small but hopeful, holding up a handful of pastel charms and ribbons.

Anyone else would’ve gotten a flat no.

Jeno just looked at you.

Then at the tiny things in your hands.

Then back at you again.

“…Okay.”

He let you do everything.

⋆ 𐙚 ̊.

He sat there while you carefully tied ribbons onto the handles, stuck tiny decals near the mirrors, added a charm that jingled softly when the wind caught it. You were so focused, so careful, like it mattered more than anything.

And it did, to him. Because it was you.

When you finished, you stepped back, eyes shining. “Do you like it?”

Jeno didn’t answer immediately.

He just looked at the bike, now adorned with soft colors and little pieces of you, and then at your face, waiting, a little nervous despite your excitement.

“…Yeah,” he said finally, voice quieter than usual. “I do.”

⋆ 𐙚 ̊.

The others didn’t dare comment on it directly.

But the looks were endless.

Because there he was, Lee Jeno, the guy who once seemed carved out of something unyielding, riding around with tiny pink charms swaying from his bike.

And he looked completely unbothered.

If anything, he seemed… proud.

Because somewhere along the way, he stopped seeing it as his world. It became yours.

And if anyone had a problem with that, they could take it up with him. They wouldn’t

Because even now, soft for you, hopelessly gone for you, he was still Lee Jeno.

Just yours <3

⋆ 𐙚 ̊.𝜗𝜚

[angstama]

[l.jn] ; spaces between us m.list

pairing: dad!lee jeno x f!reader (ft. na jaemin)

genre: angst, slight fluff

tagline: you were rebuilding a bridge while he was burning it down.

synopsis — three years after divorcing jeno, you've found a careful rhythm in co-parenting your son jun. the old fights about his work schedule and emotional distance have faded into polite exchanges and shared custody arrangements. but when small moments of connection start to feel like second chances, you begin to hope that maybe you could try again. though, it all falls apart when jeno asks to introduce jun to his new girlfriend. suddenly, you're forced to confront a devastating truth: the man who claimed he "wasn't good at relationships" during your marriage has apparently learned how to love properly—he just needed someone else to do it with.

[chapters!]

⋆˚꩜｡ pilot draft | 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13| 14 |15 | 16; finale

⋆˚꩜｡ sbu's moodboard!

⋆˚꩜｡ sbu universe exclusive canon

⋆˚꩜｡ special edition!

⋆˚꩜｡ jaemin's and y/n's shower doodles prompt!

⋆˚꩜｡ sbu characters and their majors!

⋆˚꩜｡ jaemin and y/n's semester exchange at harvard

⋆˚꩜｡ #sbu asks to read discussions regarding sbu universe and characters!

[palmkisses]

[ 7:21 pm ] :: fem!reader

”never again,” jeno mumbled, flopping onto the couch next to you, his head conking against your shoulder.

“what is it this time?” you rolled your eyes at your roommate — best friend — the title depended on how much he annoyed you that day.

“women,” jeno responded. “girls suck,” he groaned.

“thanks.” the urge to roll your eyes again was strong.

jeno groaned for the third time, arms shifting so they wrapped around your torso. you patted his head mockingly. “you poor thing.”

“how do you even do it?”

“do what?”

“girls?”

“how do you do girls?”

his head darted up from where he had shoved it onto your shoulder. “no —“ his cheeks reddened slightly. “you know what i mean,” he defended himself, eyes narrowing when he caught your smile.

“acting like a pitiful puppy is a good start,” you responded, looking at him. “women do love pathetic men.”

that earned a small shove as jeno let go of you fully, sending you a small glare. you let out a small sigh, before shifting, settling yourself in jeno’s lap, thighs framing his as you watched his expression distort.

you didn’t bother watching it fully.

“it depends on the girl,” you hummed, reaching out and placing jeno’s hands on your waist. “but they always want to be close.” you paused, meeting his gaze for a second, eyebrows raising expectantly until he got the message and pulled you closer.

you made sure ( tried ) to stay a respectful distance apart . . . with how close you were already.

he shifted under you. his grip tightened slightly. “good,” you hummed. “they want to feel you — we’re not delicate.” your hands came up to steady yourself on his shoulders.

jeno’s breath panned over your lips, pulling you an inch closer, his hand trailing up to thread through your hair. “also good,” you somehow managed to speak, forcing yourself to not focus on the physical aspect of it — just the teaching part. “they —“

“stop saying that,” jeno whispered. you paused, offering a questioning look at his cutoff. “they,” he hummed. “you’re the one in my lap,” he tapped a finger against your waist.

his gaze flicked to your throat when you swallowed, and he pressed a small kiss to the corner of your mouth. you were suddenly acutely aware of how every inch of your body was pressed against his.

you felt the urge to curse every open gym.

“pretty thing . . .” whispered, fingers pressing into your skin, only separated by the thin fabric of your shirt.

all the sarcastic retorts died on your tongue. you could tell he noticed by the way a smile twitched at the edge of his lips. “i think i might understand now,” jeno hummed, voice low, smooth.

you swallowed again, hands fidgeting against his shoulders. he definitely noticed.

“like this?” his hand coiled in your hair, tugging you closer, his lips brushing yours. the way you froze up was a visible sign, and a smile spread over jeno’s lips. “i’m guessing yes,” he whispered, closing the distance and pressing his lips to yours.

“what’s next?” he spoke, barely parting to speak, dark pupils meeting your dazed gaze. “show me?” jeno requested, hand trailing back down to your waist, dragging down, making sure you felt every press of his fingers.

[mvlszn]

checking in | lee jeno

PAIRING: coworker!jeno x receptionist!fem!reader GENRE: fluff, workplace au, coworker au WARNINGS: swearing, kissing SYNOPSIS: jaemin is sick of watching jeno yearning for the receptionist and doing nothing about it WORD COUNT: 2.2k

Jeno gets out of his car, excited to start his day at work. It's not that he enjoys working, but entering and leaving are his favourite parts of working for one reason: you. Even before he enters the door, he can see you at your desk, typing away. As a long-time worker, he never really had motivation to work, but when you started last month, he was willing to arrive early and leave late just for you.

"Hi, Y/N." He says sheepishly, walking up to your desk. You look up and smile at him. He can never stop thinking about that smile, even though it's part of your job. He likes to think it's brighter when you see him.

"Hi, Jeno! How was your meeting yesterday?" You ask, surprising him. Although you had booked a meeting room for him when he arrived yesterday, he was surprised that you asked, as you rarely do. He usually gets too nervous to do more than greet you.

"It was okay. Meetings nowadays are hours long just for nothing to be done, though." He replies, causing you to let out a small laugh. His eyes widen and his smile brightens; he's never seen you laugh and thinks it's the cutest thing ever.

"Okay, I won't keep you for long. See you." You smile as a phone begins to ring. Jeno feels disappointed but understands, nodding at you and walking away. He heads up the elevator to the fifth floor, where he works, and after dropping his briefcase on his desk, he immediately goes next door.

"Jaemin, you won't believe what happened." He says as he walks in, and Jaemin looks up from his computer.

"This better not be your 'Y/N looks so pretty today' bullshit." Jaemin sighs as he takes his glasses off. As cute as it is that his best friend is enamoured by some girl, he does not want to hear the same thing every day.

"I mean she does, but she asked me about my meeting yesterday, and laughed at what I had to say!" Jeno replies excitedly. Jaemin stares at him unamused.

"Bro, when was the last time you talked to a girl?" Jaemin asks with a slight smirk, Jeno scoffing in response. "To normal people, that's just her being nice. If you like her so much, wouldn't you try to talk to her more?" Jaemin continues.

"I don't want to be rejected by someone I see every day at work. That would be too awkward. I'm going now, I don't wanna talk to you anymore." Jeno rolls his eyes as he stands, causing Jaemin to laugh.

When Jeno sits down on his chair, he thinks about Jaemin's words. Should he try talking to you? There's nothing wrong with talking to someone he works with. But would he be okay with your relationship being strictly professional? He doesn't want it to become awkward if he confesses to you.

Jeno was unaware that when he left Jaemin's room, Jaemin was right behind him, heading to the elevator.

As you're on your computer, looking for something to do, you hear footsteps approaching you. You look to the side and see Jaemin from the fifth floor approaching you with a smile. You've spoken to him quite a bit; sometimes, he can be very talkative when he's deep in conversation. Not that you minded. It gets annoying being the only receptionist and having short conversations with people who need something from you.

"Hey, Y/N. You're not too busy right now, right?" Jaemin asks, leaning against your desk. You haven't known Jaemin for long, but you can see a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"No, it's actually pretty slow right now. I was just trying to look busy. Why, what's up?" You ask casually. You're thankful that some people in the company, like Jaemin, are your age. It's nice to speak informally in such a corporate space.

You see a smirk forming on his face, "Why don't you join Jeno and I for lunch today? We always go out for lunch and since we're all the same age, it shouldn't be too awkward. We can pay for you if it's too much of a hassle." You look down when you hear Jaemin's suggestion, your ears reddening.

When you first saw Jeno, you thought he was so handsome. He seemed very quiet, but his tight-lipped smile was the cutest thing to you. You realized how quiet he was, not just to you but to others. When you would see Jeno and Jaemin together, you thought his laughs were adorable. You've always been too scared to say anything, though, scared that he wouldn't want to talk to you for long. This morning, you had to build a lot of confidence to speak to him.

"I'd love to join. It's either become friends with you guys or sit by myself in the cafeteria. You don't have to pay for me, though, it's okay." You say when you look up at him.

"You think he's cute, don't you?" He asks, and you look bewildered. What kind of person asks that? He laughs at your face, seemingly getting his answer. "Alright, we'll come down at noon to pick you up. He doesn't know, by the way. I can't wait to see his face. See you, Y/N!" He waves as he walks away. What an interesting guy, you think to yourself.

As lunchtime approaches, your heart is beating furiously. Jaemin is excited to see how you and Jeno interact, while all Jeno can think about is you, unaware of Jaemin's antics.

Jaemin walks into Jeno's room, waiting for him to pick up his briefcase with a smile on his face, and Jeno notices. "I don't like it when you smile at nothing." He says, turning to him. Jaemin just shrugs and heads to the elevator.

When they reach the lobby, Jeno's first instinct is to look at you. When he makes eye contact with you, he looks down shyly, but when he sees Jaemin's feet heading toward you, he looks up incredulously. He sees you get up from your table with a smile on your face, getting your bag ready. Wait... What's happening? Jeno thinks as he follows Jaemin.

"Jeno, I hope you don't mind that Y/N will be joining us for lunch today." Jaemin smirks at Jeno, while you smile sheepishly. Jeno's eyes widen.

"Of course I wouldn't mind." He smiles at you, trying not to explode as your smile brightens. Jaemin walks away while you and Jeno stare at each other, walking quickly behind him when you realize you're being left alone.

On the walk to the restaurant, Jaemin walks beside you, sandwiching you between him and Jeno as you all talk about work. Whenever you and Jeno brush shoulders or accidentally touch each other's hands, Jaemin tries not to laugh when he sees the red on your faces or the way you quickly look at each other before looking away.

At the restaurant, both you and Jeno ease up as you all start talking about your personal lives. You learn that you all live near each other, blushing when Jaemin suggests that you and Jeno go home together since the two of you finish work at the same time. When you're all done eating, the server approaches with the machine.

"I'll pay for our orders," Jeno says, signaling between the two of you, "and he'll pay for his own." he continues, squinting his eyes slightly at Jaemin when he notices you looking down bashfully. Jaemin smirks, wiping it off his face as soon as Jeno pays, and you bring your face back up.

"Thanks Jeno, you really didn't need to." You smile at him, and Jeno feels himself smiling out of endearment.

"Yeah, you could have paid for mine too." Jaemin adds, rolling his eyes, but the smile on his face is evident. He finds it cute how Jeno is actually making moves on you.

As you all walk back to the office, you feel closer to them. You were excited to see how your friendships with your coworkers would evolve, especially with Jeno.

"You guys are such pussies." Jaemin says to Jeno while you're in the washroom of the restaurant you guys are eating at. It's been three months since the first lunch, and the three of you have been getting lunch all together twice a week. Recently, on the days you get lunch together, Jeno has been dropping you off at home, too.

"I really don't wanna ruin this, Jaemin." Jeno confesses. He'd rather have you as a friend than risk rejection and a changed dynamic.

"It won't be ruined, dumbass. You guys are really oblivious to how you act around each other. Do you think she's being friendly when she lets you drop her off home?" Jaemin rolls his eyes. It was getting on his nerves how nothing was happening when you two have the biggest heart eyes for each other.

"Okay, shut up now." Jeno says as he sees you coming back, smiling when you make eye contact.

Later, when dropping you off at your desk and heading up the elevator, Jaemin decides he's had enough. It feels like Jeno is going off to war when he drops you off at your desk, just for him to go to the fifth floor.

"Jeno. I'm tired of you guys." Jaemin suddenly says, surprising Jeno. He looks at Jaemin, scared of what he says next, "If you don't confess to Y/N by tonight, I will tell her everything tomorrow morning."

Jeno is stunned, freezing in his spot even after the elevator stops. He gets out to follow Jaemin to his office, but Jaemin doesn't allow him to enter.

"What the fuck are you talking about? You wouldn't do that." Jeno replies angrily, feeling betrayed.

"You know I'm not joking. You think I would force you to do this if I didn't think you two would end up together? Just do it and thank me later." Jaemin states before closing his door on Jeno's distraught figure.

Jeno knows Jaemin is just trying to help him build the courage, and he can't blame him. If Jaemin were this annoying about a friend he liked, Jeno would be sick of it too. As he sulks back to his office, he thinks about what he's going to say to you.

When the day ends and he heads down to you, he's still thinking about how to confess to you. He looks at you as he exits the elevator and wants to run away. You grab your bag and turn around to see him standing by the elevator, and he snaps out of his daze when you wave and walk up to him.

"Hey Jeno, are you okay? You look really lost in your thoughts." You say to him, and he feels embarrassed. If only you knew the subject of his thoughts.

"Yeah, sorry about that. Let's go to my car." He smiles apologetically, walking back to the elevator to head to the garage.

The drive was unusually silent. Jeno's knuckles were white from gripping the wheel, and his jaw was clenched. Although he looked unbelievably good, you were worried about Jeno, but you couldn't pressure him to tell you. You had no choice but to awkwardly look out the window.

When you reach your building, it's still awkward. You're unsure whether to say anything. Instead, you take your bag and grab the door handle.

"Wait, Y/N." You hear Jeno say, and you turn to him, letting go of the door. He stares at his feet, looking so conflicted that you feel guilt and fear. Is he about to tell you some bad news? Don't tell me he has a girlfriend, you feel weird for thinking that, but you couldn't help it.

"I've been meaning to confess something..." Your breath hitches as he continues, "Ever since you started working at the company, I haven't stopped thinking about you. Jaemin invited you to lunch with us because I had a massive crush on you, and my feelings for you have only grown stronger since then. I really wasn't planning on telling you cause I was scared and didn't wanna ruin working with you, but Jaemin threatened me to, so yeah."

You sit there in shock, staring at him. You did not expect a confession. Jeno looks up at you, seeing your eyes wide and mouth agape. He starts overthinking, coming to the conclusion that he really messed up.

"I-I like you too. I was also scared to fuck up our work relationship." You quickly respond, scared that you took too long. Jeno's eyes look hopeful, like he's been waiting for this moment. He looks down at your lips quickly, and you also look at his.

You two lean in and your lips meet. You hold Jeno's neck as he holds your shoulders, disappointed that the seats were restraining him. Your lips move together passionately. Jeno pulls your bottom lip with his teeth, making you sigh into the kiss. When you start to lose your breath, you try pulling away, but Jeno chases after you, kissing both of your lips. You squeeze his neck to signal that you're out of breath, and he sadly pulls away.

"I'd love to keep kissing you, but I'm losing my breath." You laugh. Jeno just stares at you lovingly.

"Why don't we go out for dinner right now? Or is that too soon?" He asks hopefully. You find it endearing how excited he is.

"Of course Jeno, I can always find some time for you." You say before kissing his cheek.