almost strangers (m) - lee jeno
pairing: jeno x fem bodied reader | exes-to-lovers? plot: jeno was a problem. he was unhinged, violent and not afraid of anyone. you were tired of cleaning his mess and left him. but jeno decided he didn't want to be left alone so when you get locked on the rooftop of a house party together, you might need to break your own rules word count: approx. 5k warnings/notes: jeno is supposed to mirror geum seongje from weak hero (that was what anon wanted), i tried my best, jealousy (ft appearance from nct wish's sion), rooftop sex, fingering, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex (wrap it up), jeno basically coaxes reader to take him back requested - hello is this thing on *taps mic* can i get uhhh badboy jeno smut (geum seongje vibes iykyk) where reader broke up with him and he's not over it and he kinda corners her to ask her to take him back sorta thing thank u very much hehehehehe masterlist
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the house party was already in full swing by the time you arrived. music pulsed through the walls hard enough that you could feel the bass beneath your feet before you even stepped inside, while people drifted between the driveway and the front lawn with red cups in hand, talking over one another beneath strings of warm lights. the house itself sat high in the hills overlooking the city, all floor-to-ceiling windows and expensive furniture that belonged to parents who were conveniently away for the weekend.
karina took one look at you after you climbed out of the car and let out an unashamed scream.
"oh, you're evil."
you laughed, smoothing the front of your dress. "i'll take that as a compliment."
"no, seriously." she caught your wrist and dragged you beneath one of the driveway lights before you could make a run for the front door. "look at yourself. you knew exactly what you were doing."
your eyes instinctively dropped to the dress.
it hugged you perfectly. your makeup had taken almost an hour, your hair had finally decided to cooperate for once, and for the first time in weeks, you'd managed to look into a mirror without immediately thinking about someone else.
that had been the goal.
not revenge. not jealousy. just... yourself.
it had been exactly a month since you'd broken up with lee jeno. according to every friend you had, that was supposed to be enough time to start feeling like yourself again. apparently nobody had bothered informing your nervous system.
people assumed you'd left because of the fights. because of the rumours. because campus seemed to produce a brand-new story about jeno every other week, usually involving bruised knuckles, broken furniture or somebody making the catastrophic mistake of underestimating him.
none of that had been the reason.
the truth was almost impossible to explain without making yourself sound dramatic.
you hadn't fallen out of love with him.
if anything, that had been the problem.
loving jeno had slowly turned into managing him. every reckless decision somehow became your responsibility, every late-night phone call ended with someone asking if you could come because, somehow, you were the only person he'd actually listen to. every fight followed the same exhausting pattern: he'd flash that infuriating grin the second he saw you, his friends would visibly relax, and before you even had time to process what had happened, you'd somehow become responsible for cleaning up another disaster you hadn't created.
you loved him.
you still did.
but somewhere along the way, you'd stopped feeling like his girlfriend and started feeling like the emergency contact everyone called whenever lee jeno inevitably became lee jeno.
"tonight," karina declared as she linked her arm through yours and steered you toward the front door, "you are legally prohibited from thinking about him."
you glanced sideways at her. "legally?"
"i've decided i'm the government."
"that feels unconstitutional."
"don't care."
despite yourself, you laughed.
"if i catch you looking sad," she continued, "i'm throwing my drink at somebody."
"you say that like you need a reason."
"exactly."
the party swallowed you the second you stepped inside. music shook the walls, somebody was already dancing on the kitchen island, and you recognised at least half the faces crowded into the living room. for the first hour, things felt surprisingly... normal. you danced with karina, accepted two drinks you definitely didn't need, and found yourself laughing more than you had in weeks.
that was probably why you didn't notice the atmosphere change straight away.
it wasn't that the music stopped or people suddenly went quiet. conversations continued, laughter still echoed through the room, but something subtle shifted beneath it all. people near the entrance started glancing in the same direction almost instinctively, the way animals seemed to sense a storm before the first drop of rain ever hit the ground.
your stomach tightened before your eyes even followed theirs.
lee jeno had arrived.
he wasn't making a scene. he never needed to. he wandered in with three of his friends, listening to something one of them was saying while lazily spinning one of the silver rings around his finger. his shoulders were relaxed, his hoodie sat half-zipped, and he looked exactly like someone who'd shown up because he'd been bored and decided a party sounded marginally more entertaining than staying home.
then he saw you.
whatever his friend had been saying immediately ceased to exist.
his gaze settled on you with quiet curiosity, travelling from your heels to the hem of your dress before finally finding your face again. he didn't look angry. if anything, he looked... amused.
slowly, almost imperceptibly, he smiled.
you felt your heart sink.
"oh, no," karina murmured beside you.
you didn't take your eyes off him. "what?"
"he looks happy."
that, unfortunately, was exactly the problem.
most people assumed lee jeno was dangerous when he looked angry.
the people who actually knew him understood the opposite was true.
angry jeno was predictable. when he was angry, somebody had usually said something stupid, started a fight or looked at him the wrong way, and everyone knew how the evening was going to end. smiling jeno, however, was impossible to read.
sometimes it meant he'd found something funny. sometimes it meant he was about to do something that would have half the room questioning his sanity. the problem was that nobody, not even the people closest to him, ever seemed to know which version they were getting until it was too late.
you tore your eyes away before you could think too much about it.
whatever expression was sitting on his face wasn't your problem anymore.
that had been the entire point of the breakup.
for the past month, you'd repeated that to yourself so often it had almost become convincing. you weren't responsible for wondering whether he'd gotten himself into another fight, whether he'd remembered to eat something that wasn't instant noodles, or whether one of his friends would inevitably end up calling you at two in the morning because he'd done something spectacularly reckless. those habits were proving much harder to break than the relationship itself, but you were trying, and that had to count for something.
"don't," karina said quietly, following your line of sight without even pretending she wasn't. "whatever's going on inside that head of yours, stop."
you let out a small laugh.
"i wasn't thinking about anything."
"you're a terrible liar."
you sighed and conceded. "i've always been a terrible liar."
"exactly."
she linked her arm through yours and nudged you gently toward the kitchen, where somebody was aggressively insisting that tequila solved every known problem in existence. "one month," she reminded you. "you've survived one month already. don't let one smile ruin all that progress."
"i wasn't planning to."
"good."
"i'm just..."
you hesitated, searching for the right word before eventually giving up.
"confused."
karina looked at you.
"why?"
"because he isn't doing anything."
that made her glance across the room again.
for a few seconds, neither of you spoke.
jeno was still standing near the entrance with his friends, listening—or at least pretending to listen—to whatever story one of them was telling. every now and then he'd nod, or laugh under his breath, or answer with a comment that earned another round of laughter from the group. to anybody else, he looked completely normal.
except every single time the conversation lulled, his eyes drifted back to you.
not in a way that felt territorial.
not even jealous.
if anything, he looked... curious.
like he'd stumbled across a question he couldn't quite answer.
"...okay," karina murmured slowly. "that's actually a little creepy."
you frowned.
"right?"
"he usually would've walked over by now."
"i know."
"or interrupted."
"i know."
"or done literally anything."
"exactly."
instead, he stayed where he was, making no effort whatsoever to close the distance between you. somehow that unsettled you more than if he'd marched straight across the room the second he'd arrived. that would've been predictable. this wasn't. it was as though he'd seen you, decided that approaching you wasn't the answer, and settled for quietly observing instead.
the thought shouldn't have bothered you as much as it did.
you looked away, determined to enjoy the rest of the evening, and for a while it worked. somebody handed you another drink, a girl from one of your tutorials dragged you into a conversation about exams, and the noise of the party gradually swallowed your thoughts again.
then, almost absentmindedly, you looked up.
your eyes found him immediately.
he hadn't moved.
worse still, he smiled the second he realised you'd looked back.
he hadn't moved.
worse still, he smiled the second he realised you'd looked back.
it wasn't smug, and that somehow made it infinitely more irritating. there wasn't a trace of triumph in it, no silent caught you. if anything, he looked... pleased. like you'd just confirmed something he'd been quietly wondering about all evening.
you immediately looked away again.
"absolutely not," you muttered under your breath.
"i'm getting another drink," karina announced suddenly. "do you want one?"
you looked down at the cup still half-full in your hand.
"i'm good."
"don't disappear."
you smiled.
"i'll try."
"i mean it."
"rina."
"what?"
"he's not going to kidnap me."
she looked across the room at jeno before looking back at you.
"...i'm not completely ruling it out."
you laughed despite yourself, shaking your head as she wandered toward the kitchen.
left on your own, you leaned lightly against the edge of the dining table and took another sip of your drink, letting the noise of the party settle around you again. conversations overlapped from every direction, somebody near the speakers was passionately arguing that the playlist had peaked an hour ago, and a group of seniors had somehow convinced themselves they could play beer pong using decorative crystal glasses borrowed from the host's parents.
it almost felt normal again.
almost.
your gaze wandered before you could stop it.
this time, you found him laughing.
one of his friends had apparently just finished telling a story, and jeno tilted his head back with an easy grin that looked so effortless it caught you off guard. it wasn't the laugh that surprised you—you'd always known he laughed easily—but the way it disappeared almost immediately after.
his eyes searched the room.
they found you.
and just like that, everything else ceased to exist.
he didn't wave.
didn't gesture for you to come over.
didn't even acknowledge that you'd caught him looking.
he simply held your gaze for a few quiet seconds before lifting his cup in the smallest, almost imperceptible salute.
the gesture was so casual, so absurdly normal, that you found yourself staring before you realised what you were doing.
he smiled again.
then, as though completely satisfied with whatever conclusion he'd reached, he turned back to his friends and continued the conversation as if nothing had happened at all.
you frowned.
"what on earth are you doing?" you murmured to yourself.
for the first time since the breakup, you realised something that made your stomach twist.
you understood jeno when he was loud.
you understood him when he was reckless.
you understood him when he was impossible.
this version of him—
quiet.
patient.
content to simply watch—
you had absolutely no idea what to do with.
you'd barely finished your second drink when someone called your name from behind.
turning around, you found a vaguely familiar face smiling at you.
"i knew that was you."
you frowned for a second before recognition finally clicked.
"sion?"
"thank god." he laughed, pressing a hand dramatically against his chest. "i was starting to think i'd have to pretend i wasn't talking to you."
you couldn't help smiling.
"sorry. you look different without a laptop in front of you."
"i'll choose to take that as a compliment."
"please don't."
he laughed again before leaning casually against the kitchen island beside you.
"i didn't know you knew the host."
"i don't."
"...that's reassuring."
"karina does."
"ah."
he nodded thoughtfully.
"that makes significantly more sense."
for the first time all evening, the conversation came easily.
sion was exactly how you remembered him from class—easygoing, a little awkward, and incapable of telling a story without getting distracted halfway through. he had a habit of laughing at his own jokes before reaching the punchline, which somehow made you laugh even harder.
"...and then i realised i'd been defending the wrong presentation for almost fifteen minutes."
you stared at him.
"you're kidding."
"i wish."
"what happened?"
"she just looked at me and said..." he lowered his voice into a painfully accurate impression of your lecturer. "'mr oh, while your confidence is admirable, this isn't your assignment.'"
you burst out laughing.
"no."
"yes."
"please tell me you're lying."
"i've never wanted to disappear more in my life."
you shook your head, still smiling.
"that's actually tragic."
"thank you. i needed someone to appreciate my suffering."
"i appreciate it immensely."
"good."
he pointed at you.
"because i'm still emotionally recovering."
your laughter faded into an easy smile.
it felt...
normal.
refreshingly so.
there were no rumours attached to sion. nobody lowered their voice when they said his name. nobody instinctively stepped aside when he walked into a room. talking to him didn't feel like standing next to a lit match.
it just felt easy.
"...can i ask you something?"
"sure."
"did you actually understand today's lecture?"
you groaned.
"don't even remind me."
"so that's a no."
"i understood maybe thirty percent of it."
"perfect."
he looked genuinely relieved.
"i was worried i was just stupid."
"i've got terrible news for you."
his face fell.
"what?"
"i understood thirty percent because i stopped listening after the first twenty minutes."
he stared at you for a second before laughing.
"okay, that's fair."
without thinking, he reached over and lightly nudged your arm.
"see? i knew talking to you would make me feel better."
the gesture barely registered.
it was casual.
friendly.
completely innocent.
but somewhere across the room—
jeno noticed.
his conversation stopped mid-sentence.
not long enough for his friends to notice.
just long enough for his eyes to drift toward the hand resting briefly against your arm.
his expression didn't change.
if anything, the smile remained exactly where it had been.
which, somehow, made it worse.
he watched as you laughed at something sion had said, tilting your head back the same way you always did when you found something genuinely funny.
he'd seen that laugh a hundred times.
he'd never realised how loud your laugh was until it belonged to someone else's conversation.
a sudden commotion near the entrance pulled you out of your thoughts.
heads turned almost instinctively.
someone had bumped into jeno.
it wasn't much. a shoulder clipping his arm as they squeezed through the crowd, enough to send a little of the drink in the boy's hand sloshing over the rim of the cup.
the first-year froze immediately.
"s-sorry."
you recognised him almost at once.
a first-year from the business faculty.
a few months ago, he'd accidentally spilled coffee over jeno's trainers outside one of the lecture halls. before you'd managed to step in, jeno had already grabbed him by the collar and shoved him hard enough into the lockers to leave half the corridor staring. you still remembered the look on the poor boy's face when you'd pulled jeno away, somewhere between terrified and completely convinced he was about to die.
apparently he remembered too.
because instead of looking at jeno, the first-year's eyes darted straight to you.
almost instinctively.
like he was checking whether you were close enough to stop whatever came next.
jeno noticed. of course he noticed. his gaze flickered briefly toward you before settling back on the boy.
for a second, nobody moved. one of his friends had already gone quiet.
the people closest to them had taken a subtle step backwards.
everyone was waiting.
waiting to see which version of jeno had shown up tonight.
"watch where you're going," he said flatly.
"s-sorry, i didn't—"
"yeah."
another pause. the boy looked ready to apologise another five times.
instead, jeno jerked his chin toward the hallway.
"get lost."
the first-year blinked.
"...what?"
"you heard me."
the boy didn't need telling twice. he muttered another apology before practically disappearing into the crowd.
the people nearby exchanged confused glances before slowly returning to their own conversations, the tension dissolving almost as quickly as it'd appeared.
you couldn't stop staring.
that...
wasn't what you expected.
he caught your expression from across the room. one corner of his mouth lifted. almost like he already knew what you were thinking.
and somehow, that irritated you even more.
because a month ago, he would've thrown the first punch.
tonight, he'd simply let the boy walk away.
you weren't sure which version unsettled you more.
it irritated you enough that eventually you decided you needed air before you snapped.
without telling anyone, you slipped upstairs and climbed the narrow staircase leading to the rooftop terrace. the cool night breeze hit your skin immediately when you stepped outside, and you closed your eyes for a second in relief.
finally.
quiet.
the city lights stretched endlessly beneath the rooftop, glowing gold against the darkness. you walked toward the railing and rested your arms against it, trying to calm the frustration buzzing beneath your skin.
the rooftop door opened behind you less than a minute later.
you didn’t even turn around. you recognised the smell of that cologne anywhere, a custom mix of two different ones because jeno couldn't decide which one he liked better.
“you’re unbelievable,” you said flatly.
jeno shut the door behind him. “you disappeared.”
“i came upstairs for five seconds.”
“you left with no jacket.”
you laughed once under your breath and turned toward him. “you're fucking kidding me.”
his gaze moved over you again, slower this time, and it made your entire body tense in annoyance because even after everything, he still knew exactly how to look at you in a way that made you feel too aware of yourself.
“that dress is too short.”
“there it is.”
“you tryna get someone’s attention?”
“i wore it because i look good.”
“you do.”
the answer came immediately. it irritated you more than if he had insulted you.
you folded your arms. “what do you want?”
jeno walked closer until he stood only a few feet away from you. “to talk.”
“we’ve had this conversation already.”
“no, you talked. then you blocked me on everything.”
“because we broke up.”
his jaw tightened slightly.
“you keep saying that like i agreed to it.”
you stared at him in disbelief. “you don’t get to disagree with a breakup, jeno.”
“watch me.”
“oh my god.”
you pushed yourself off the railing. “this is exactly why i left you. you’re insane.”
his expression barely changed. “you still love me.”
“that’s not the point.”
“so you do.”
“i didn’t say that.”
“you didn’t deny it either.”
you groaned in frustration and headed toward the rooftop door. “i’m done with this conversation.”
but the second you grabbed the handle and twisted, your expression changed.
the door didn’t move.
you frowned and pulled harder.
locked.
“what the hell?”
jeno walked over behind you slowly. too slowly.
you turned immediately. “did you do this?”
“what?”
“the door is locked.”
he reached past you and tested the handle himself with an annoyingly convincing look of confusion. “huh.”
you narrowed your eyes. “you are such a liar.”
“i didn’t lock it.”
“did you tell one of your idiot friends to do it?”
“no.”
a pause.
“jeno.”
“what? maybe it’s fate. you keep running away from me.”
“because i don’t want to talk to you.”
“you’re talking now.”
you shoved his shoulder hard, but he barely moved.
“you’re actually crazy.”
“and you’re still beautiful when you’re angry.”
you glared at him. “i hate you.”
“no, you don’t.”
the confidence in his voice made your blood boil because the worst part was that he genuinely believed it.
jeno leaned against the rooftop door casually while looking down at you, completely unbothered by the fact that you were seconds away from losing your temper.
“you’ve been avoiding me for a month.”
“thanks for stating the obvious.”
“you ignore my texts.”
“that’s the point.”
“you were real friendly with the guy downstairs."
you scoffed. “you mean the normal guy who doesn’t threaten people for fun?”
his eyes darkened instantly.
“was he funny?"
“oh my god, who cares?”
“i care.”
“well, stop.”
for the first time that night, something genuinely angry flashed across his face.
“you think i’m just supposed to watch you move on?”
“well yes.”
the answer came so quickly it stunned him into silence for a second.
and suddenly you could see it clearly — the exhaustion beneath his anger, the sleeplessness in his eyes, the way his hands flexed like he was physically restraining himself from grabbing you and pulling you against him like he used to.
“you really don’t give a shit anymore?” he asked quietly.
your chest tightened despite yourself.
because that wasn’t true.
that was the problem. for the first time tonight, jeno wasn't playing any games. for the first time ever since you broke up, he felt like you were truly gonna slip away from him for eternity.
“let’s talk baby,” he came closer to you, voice laced with a sense of nervousness that only you were able to tell.
“there’s nothing to talk about!”
“there is.” his hand caught your wrist, fingers circling, thumb pressing into your pulse point. “i fucked up. i know. but i’ve been losing my mind without you. every time i see you laughing with someone else, i want to rip them apart.. i’ll - fuck i’ll tone down the fighting, i’ll just -”
for the first time since you’ve dated each other, he was actually anxious.
“i don’t know how to say it right.” his voice cracked, just a little. he tugged you closer, his forehead resting against yours. “i’m sorry. i’m sorry for the shit i did. but i can’t let you go. you’re it for me, princess. you’re the only thing that’s ever felt real.”
you wanted to stay angry. you wanted to push him away, scream, claw at him until he let you go. but your body betrayed you—the heat of him, the familiar weight of his hands, the way his thumb traced lazy circles on your wrist. a month of no contact, of pretending you didn’t miss the way he looked at you like you were the only person in the world, and now you were trembling.
“jeno.” it came out weak.
“let me show you.” his lips ghosted over your cheek. “let me prove i still know how to make you feel good. just tonight. then we can talk tomorrow. i’ll fix the door, i swear, but… let me have this.”
you should have said no. should have fought harder. but the cold air had seeped into your bones, and he was warm, and you were so fucking tired of pretending you didn’t want him. karina can lecture you about it later.
“you’re an asshole,” you whispered.
“yeah. your asshole.” he smiled, a real one, and it softened the hard lines of his face. then he kissed you. hard. hungry. his tongue slid against yours, and you melted into it, your hands fisting in his jacket. a month of denial crashed down, and you kissed him back like you were drowning.
he groaned against your mouth, his hands sliding down your waist, gripping your hips through the thin fabric of your dress. “fuck, i missed you. missed this.” he bit your lower lip, tugging, and you gasped. his fingers found the hem of your dress, bunching it up until the cold air hit your thighs.
“jen, the door—someone could come up—“
“they won’t.” he pulled back, his eyes dark and serious. “i told jaemin to lock it and keep everyone away. gave us an hour.”
your breath caught. “you—you planned this?”
“had to get you alone somehow.” he kissed your neck, teeth scraping over your pulse. “you wouldn’t talk to me. you wouldn’t even look at me. this was the only way, princess. forgive me?”
you should have been furious. instead, you were wet. the audacity of it, the raw desperation—it turned you on more than you wanted to admit. you tilted your head back, giving him more access, and he took it, sucking a mark into your collarbone.
“i hate you,” you breathed.
“no, you don’t.” his hand slid between your thighs, pressing against the damp fabric of your panties. “you’re soaked, baby. you missed me too.”
you didn’t deny it. couldn’t. he hooked a finger under the lace, pulling it aside, and then his fingers were on you—calloused and rough, sliding through your slick folds. you bucked into his touch, a moan escaping your lips.
“that’s it. let me hear you.” he found your clit, circling it with practiced precision, and your knees buckled. he caught you, guiding you back until you were pressed against the cold brick wall of the rooftop shed. “been thinking about this every night. jerking off to the memory of your pussy gripping my cock.”
“jeno—fuck—“
he pushed two fingers inside you, stretching you, and you cried out. his thumb kept working your clit, pressing hard, and he watched your face with that predatory intensity that always made you feel like prey—but in the best way. he curled his fingers, hitting that spot that made stars burst behind your eyes.
“you’re so tight. so perfect.” he pumped his fingers, faster, deeper, the sound of your wetness obscene in the night air. “gonna make you come on my hand first. then i’m gonna bend you over this railing and fuck you until you remember who you belong to.”
you were close, the pressure coiling in your belly, but you weren’t ready to give in. “i don’t belong to anyone.”
“yeah, you do.” he pressed his thumb harder against your clit, and you screamed, your orgasm crashing through you. your walls clenched around his fingers, and he kept pumping, drawing it out until you were shaking and gasping against the wall.
“good girl.” he pulled his fingers out, sliding them into his mouth, sucking them clean. “taste so sweet.”
your dress was rucked up around your waist, your panties hanging uselessly off one hip. he pushed them down, letting them fall to the gravel. then he unbuckled his belt, the clink of metal loud in the silence. his cock sprang free, thick and hard, the tip glistening with precum.
“turn around. bend over the railing.”
you hesitated for only a second. then you obeyed, gripping the cold metal, arching your back. "good fucking girl."
the dress rode up, exposing your bare ass. he moved behind you, his hands gripping your hips, his cock pressing against your wet entrance.
“i’m sorry,” he muttered, the words rough and awkward. “for everything. i don’t know how to be the guy you deserve. but i’m trying. i’m trying, princess.”
then he pushed inside you, and all coherent thought dissolved. his teeth found the side of your neck and made his mark there before licking and sucking a hickey onto it.
he filled you completely, stretching you, the friction perfect. he gave you a moment to adjust, then pulled out and thrust back in, a steady rhythm that quickly grew frantic. his hand snaked around to your clit, rubbing in time with his thrusts, and you moaned into the night.
“fuck, you feel better than i remember.” he spanked your ass, the sharp sting making you clench around him. “look at you, taking my cock like a fucking dream. missed this pussy. missed your tight little cunt.”
he drove into you harder, faster, his balls slapping against your clit. the rooftop lights cast long shadows, and you could see the city below, oblivious to the raw, desperate sex happening above. the thought only made you wetter.
“jen, i’m gonna—“
“come for me, baby. come on my cock.” he pressed down on your clit, and you shattered, your orgasm ripping through you like a wave. he kept thrusting, chasing his own release, but you were too sensitive, bucking against him.
“wait—too much—“
“one more.” he slowed, but didn’t stop, grinding deep inside you. “come on, princess. you can give me one more. for me.”
he pulled out, and before you could catch your breath, he spun you around, lifting you up. your legs wrapped around his waist, your back hitting the wall again. he lined himself up into your gaping pussy and sank back into you, this time face to face.
you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him into a kiss, messy and desperate. he fucked you slow and deep, his eyes locked on yours, his forehead pressed against yours.
“i’m not good at words,” he whispered. “but i need you back. i need you, and i don’t care how much i have to change. i’ll burn the world down for you. just… come back to me.”
you couldn’t speak. the emotion in his voice—raw, broken, real—cracked something inside you. you kissed him, hard, and he groaned into your mouth, his thrusts becoming erratic. "this pussy was fucking made for me."
“i’m gonna fill you up,” he growled. “gonna put my cum deep inside you, and you’re gonna walk around downstairs knowing you’re still mine.”
“yes,” you gasped. “do it—please—“
he drove into you one last time, burying himself to the hilt, and you felt his hot release spill inside you, wave after wave. you came again, a smaller, shuddery orgasm, clenching around him as he pulsed inside you.
he held you there, both of you panting, sweat-slicked and trembling. he pulled out slowly, his cum dripping down your thigh. he caught it with his fingers, pressing it back inside, his eyes dark and possessive.
“you’re not leaving this rooftop until i hear you say you’ll try,” he said, voice husky. “even if we have to do this a few more times.”
you laughed, weak and breathless. “you’re impossible.”
“and you’re mine.” he kissed your forehead, then your nose, then your lips. “please, princess. say yes."
you looked at him—the fighting scars, the rough edges, the vulnerable flicker in his eyes—and you knew you were lost.
"come on, let's ditch this and go back so you can sit on my face.”
“fine. but you’re sleeping on the sofa for a month.”
he grinned, wide and boyish, and pulled you into another kiss. the door was still locked, but the night was young, and there was plenty of time to argue about the future. right now, you had his cum leaking down your thigh and his arms around you, and for the first time in a month, it felt like home.
"oh, and tell oh sion to fucking keep his hands to himself unless he wants it broken."
