#jeno imagines

[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

[wishforjei]

NSFW audio! 🎧

stroking jaemin off while jeno eats you out.

[revehae]

see a cheerleader, breed a cheerleader

pairing ↠ """nerd!"""jeno x (f) cheerleader!reader

genre .. warnings ↠ smut, noncon, dubcon, oral (m receiving), male face sitting, face fucking, unprotected sex, blackmail, choking, hitting, virgin!reader

summary ↠ ever since forever, you have always gotten your way with people by whatever means necessary. a wink and a smile is all it takes to make a boy drop to your feet and worship you. no one told you to think that lee jeno would be any different. as it turns out, actions do have consequences.

wc ↠ 14.9k

a/n ↠ lowkey i think i subconsciously drew inspo from the fact that finals week made me consider both suicide and homicide. no jungwoo’s were hurt in the making of this fic. merry christmas! as always, feedback is appreciated!

don’t like it, don’t read.

  ▸ short, sweet, sometimes sticky

it was supposed to be like everybody else.

short, sweet, maybe sticky if you considered that one time you’d shaken that jisung boy’s sweat-coated hands and watched the pale of his face burn the same fierce rose as the lens he saw you through. 

you’d laughed lightheartedly to spare him the embarrassment, telling him that everybody got a little sweaty every now and then, especially you. after all, cheerleading was more than skipping around and twirling. and at those words, you’d watched his eyes haze with the image of you damp with sweat, drenched head to toe.

hook, line, and sinker.

far too easy, exactly how you liked them. smart, easy, and utterly unable to resist you.

no one told you to expect something different from lee jeno. and why would you? he knew all the right answers, had some of the best marks, and practically lived in the library. he perfectly fit the bill of your standard victim.

which was why you had no qualms about approaching him in the library while he was typing away at his laptop, occasionally sipping from some kind of coffee.

as if he could sense he was in imminent danger and needed to evacuate immediately, jeno turned around before you could even make it completely to the table and saw you advancing on him with a pretty, practiced smile. “hi,” you greeted, waving at him. falling, your hands gripped the rear of the chair beside him. “is someone sitting here?”

jeno raised a brow at you, but shook his head. “no, no one’s sitting there.”

“perfect,” you replied, pulling out the chair and taking a seat. you turned so that you were facing him. “jeno, right?”

jeno nodded slowly, wondering where this was going. he got plenty girls, sure, but none ever approached him in the library. “that’s me,” he said, curious. “do i know you?”

“well, probably not,” you replied, giggling as if something was funny. “but, you know… i’m a cheerleader.”

jeno hummed. “are you now?”

you bobbed your head expectantly. “yeah, and i’ve heard about how smart you are. i’m impressed, to be honest. i mean, every time i’m in the library, i see you sitting here. i could never spend so much time here. you must have a lot of resolve to do something like that.”

“you think so?” jeno asked, pretending to be flattered just to see where you were leading him. 

“i do. like, really do,” you replied, brushing your fingers against his forearm. “i just have so many other,” better, “things to do, you know. with cheer, i’m either practicing or resting so that i’ll have energy for practice. it’s really hard on me, you know?”

jeno stifled a chuckle and glanced back at his laptop screen. “you poor thing.”

your brows stitched. he wasn’t paying nearly enough attention to you. it was almost like he was uninterested. “and that’s why i was wondering if you could help me. i mean, you’re such a genius. you could probably do it in half the time it would take me,” you continued, lowering your hand onto his denim-clad thigh, and becoming surprised by how sturdy it felt.

jeno spared a fleeting glance at your hand on his left thigh before his eyes flitted to your face, watching you wink at him and throw him a smile. “let me get this straight,” he started, slowly caressing the back of your hand with his thumb as it sat on his thigh. “you want me to… do your work for you?”

“hey, your hard work wouldn’t go unrewarded,” you insisted, ignoring the unexpected motions of his thumb. “you’d have my attention. i mean, like i said, i don’t have a lot of time to give away. but i’m willing to spend some of it on you.”

jeno snickered, unable to help himself anymore. “are you this patronizing to everyone you meet?” he asked.

your eyes flickered. “p-patronizing?”

jeno smiled, patting your hand before setting it on your own thigh. “sorry, was that a big word for you? you know, when you think you’re too good for something, but you don’t want to say it, so you play sweet and act like you’re helping me, when really, it’s the other way around.”

switching on a dime, you narrowed your eyes at him. for such a pretty boy, he had quite the attitude. “i know what patronizing means. and right now, i think you’re the one being patronizing.”

“am i?” jeno asked, feigning obliviousness. “how’s it taste, cheerleader? doesn’t feel good, does it?”

your face was set in a scowl. sometimes it hurt you to play nice with people, and now was one of those times. “are you gonna help me or not?” you snapped.

“there it is,” jeno sang, chuckling to himself. he put his hand on your thigh now, squeezing the flesh gently. for now. “there’s the real you.”

you swallowed, glaring over at him with a hint of defiance despite the disgusting, foreign feeling rotting in your chest. it had never gone like this before. every situation predating this one had been somewhat predictable, to the point where you’d come to expect certain reactions. this was not that.

“i’ll help you,” jeno said after a pause.

you forced a smile. “great, so…”

jeno interjected, “on one condition.”

smile faltering, you trailed off, processing his words. now he was making some kind of deal with you? who in the hell did this man think he was?

“on one condition?” you echoed, as if you’d somehow misheard him. your brows scrunched in suspicion. “what condition?”

jeno grinned, the look on his face sly as hell and a stark contrast from the disgruntled glower on yours. “give me something in return,” was all he said, the tightening hold on your thigh giving away more than his words had.

you gawked, as if you were offended, and quickly swat at his hand. “i’m not having sex with you, you pervert!”

“sure, you’re not,” jeno answered with a chuckle, eyes twinkling with amusement. everything about you was alluring to him for mostly all the reasons unintended. “but you said i’d have your attention. i guess you think it’s not often a poor, busy nerd like myself gets anyone’s attention, yeah? but nerds get tired too, don’t they? they need to de-stress…”

“that’s not my problem,” you spat. 

“you getting an F isn’t my problem, either,” jeno retorted, shrugging his shoulders. “so what it’s gonna be, cheerleader?”

something about this situation isn’t right to you. maybe it’s the lack of power you currently wielded over him, despite the fact that you had gotten used to having your way with academically competent boys like himself. if he weren’t taller than you and stronger than you, you’d resort to other, more familiar methods.

but jeno had changed the entire trajectory of this interaction for the worse, and now you had to determine whether or not it was beneath you to let him treat you as if you were some kind of object. you sulkily mulled it over, arms folded, trying to think of a way to maintain some semblance of power. “fine,” you finally replied, relenting. “but i’m not doing anything that requires me taking my clothes off.”

“you never seen a good porno, cheerleader?” jeno asked, a stupid, taunting smile blemishing his lips. “that cute little uniform of yours is the whole appeal to some people.”

“my name is…,” you huffed irritably, tired of being referred to by your title. 

“frankly, cheerleader, i don’t care what your name is,” jeno told you with brutal honesty. “you’re the one that introduced yourself as a cheerleader, like that’s your whole personality or something. thinking it would make me fold. you can’t be stupid and demanding.”

you gaped, affronted by the sheer audacity of him to even utter those words to you, like you were some dumb bimbo. “i’m not stupid! i’m just too busy.”

“right. too busy,” jeno echoed, obviously none too convinced. “sorry for assuming.”

with a roll of your eyes, you stood up from the table chair, feeling utterly disrespected. “yeah, you should be,” you said, despite knowing his apology was completely inauthentic. “where’s your phone?”

jeno arched a brow and glanced over to his phone, sitting face down against the table on the other side of him. before he could even respond, you reached over him to grab it and pointed it at his face, unlocking it as if you’d done it a million times before.

then, you started typing away, all the while jeno watched you with an amused expression on his face. he had to admit, you were surely something. and though he found you entertaining, he couldn’t shake the thought that you desperately needed someone to put you in your place.

“reach me here,” you said after a moment, handing him his phone back. the screen was on his messages, a fresh contact with you.  “pleasure doing business with you.”

with that, you walked away. 

jeno shook his head, scoffing. who the hell did you think you were?

over the next few days or so, you met with jeno to better construct exactly what your expectations were pertaining to your work. or at least, those were the words he’d used. most of those limited encounters had ended with his hands sealing around your breasts.

you let it slide, deciding that a little over-the-clothes stuff was relatively harmless. after all, this was the busiest you’d been all year long, and you were far too exhausted when you got home to be burdened with stupid assignments and pesky discussion posts. the next two months, if not the next two weeks, were going to kill you if you didn’t have someone to carry at least half the workload on your behalf.

it was okay. jeno’s inability to keep his hands to himself was fine. it wasn’t like anybody was going to know, or that this arrangement would last long enough for them to find out. you would get to keep your dignity and your grades, without saving one at the expense of the other.

short, sweet, and sticky, remember? maybe the latter was simply manifesting in the way jeno’s hands were stuck to you. not that anything about him was sweet.

more like sacrifice.

  ▸ gilded age

“guess who just made the list of this week’s top ten trending sluts,” jennie said as she walked up beside you and roseanne.

roseanne perked up that, though she couldn’t help but mischievously quip, “you?”

jennie narrowed her eyes. “hoe, as if,” she spat. “i know how to keep my legs closed.”

you snickered. “god, what happened now?”

“a sex tape got leaked. hyeri, and apparently johnny.”

your nose scrunched, as if disgusted. “always knew she was a slut. i mean, you should have been there to see the way she acted around the jocks in high school. her eyes were practically screaming, ‘pick me, choose me, fuck me,’” you mocked.

roseanne burst into giggles, downing the rest of what was left in her red cup. “i don’t think that’s how that goes,” she chimed. “but johnny? is she crazy? i hope they didn’t do it raw. i heard rumors that he’s got the clap.” 

“he sure clapped something, alright,” jennie retorted, much to your amusement. “it was definitely raw. hope it was worth the itch. you guys wanna see?”

“absolutely not,” you said, shaking your head vigorously. “i bet her parents would love to see it, though. on second thought, send me it.”

roseanne gawked. “are you serious?”

you bobbed your head, grinning deviously. “yeah. you guys have no idea what that bitch was like in high school. i tried teaching her a lesson, but she just never learned. it’s like the bitch is addicted to pain or something.”

jennie shook her head, pretending to disapprove, though she was intrigued to see how far you would your obvious loathing. “just sent it.”

your phone vibrated in your hand a few seconds later. you opened your instagram burner account, scrolling through your main’s following to find hyeri’s mother’s page, and dropped the video in her inbox. your sly giggle alerted your friends to your success and you dropped your phone in your pocket, satisfied.

“oh, you’re sick,” jennie insulted playfully, nudging your arm. “i wonder if she’ll say anything.”

you shrugged your shoulders, feigning nonchalance as if you weren’t excited to see how her mother would respond. “don’t know, but i’m more curious about if she’ll talk to hyeri about it. i’d love to be a fly on the myung’s wall when that happens.”

roseanne tapped your shoulder. “hey, don’t look now, but that jeno guy is staring you.”

your head whirled around, spotting jeno in his own corner of the party, indeed watching your every move as if he wanted to consume you and was waiting for the perfect moment to attack. which, if he was, would not be surprising. 

roseanne sighed in annoyance. “i literally just said don’t look now.”

you turned back to face them, shaking your head. “don’t worry about that creep,” you replied, brushing it off. “he’s just begging to get in my pants. didn’t even know he went to parties.”

for whatever reason, jennie laughed. something about what you said tickled her, apparently. “um, yeah. that’s jeno for you, alright. he’s either partying with his friends or grinding in the library, no in between. perfectly balanced lifestyle, i have to admit it.”

your brows furrowed. that was news to you. and probably an important piece of information that you’d conveniently missed when narrowing down your targets. maybe you should have asked around about him more. you just didn’t think that someone who studied as hard as he did could also be the life of the party.

what was he doing here, anyway? shouldn’t he have been off doing your homework? useless fucking nerdy-not.

“do you guys know each other or something?” roseanne pressed, noticing the strange tension in the air despite the fact that you and jeno were feet apart. which was honestly admirable. “do you think you could get him to put me on with jungwoo?”

jennie’s laughter rang out again, only this time, it was much louder, and much more mocking. “please. jungwoo isn’t gonna touch any of us after how she broke his heart. you’d have better luck with jaehyun,” she sneered.

roseanne glared, a snarl on her face. “fuck jaehyun.”

“yeah, i bet you want to. i bet you’re still dreaming of that big, thick, meaty dick you wouldn’t shut up about, like, two months ago.”

“a lot can change in two months.”

“oh, it sure can,” jennie replied, humming. “it sure can.”

  ▸ takes two to tango

jeno: come over

you: no

jeno: that wasn’t a request 

you: no where in our agreement does it say you get to boss me around

jeno: not even for an A?

you: that’s what your grabby hands are for

jeno: i don’t have to do this, you know. i can let you be a grown up and fiend for yourself like the rest of us

you: i’m otw, chill. jesus

the knock of your fist against jeno’s door was incessant, more than likely enough to exasperate his neighbors, given that it was particularly late at night and a good number of them had to have been sleeping.

jeno threw the door open with a scowl, obviously irritated. “you are so fucking annoying,” he hissed, dragging you inside and shutting the door behind you. 

“ow!” you cried out, snatching your arm away. “stop that, i’m sore.”

jeno shook his head, his discontent frown disappearing in favor of an entertained, idiotic smile. “sore, huh? from doing what?”

you rolled your eyes. “if it isn’t obvious, i’m a cheerleader,” you reminded, gesturing down to your uniform. “meaning, i cheer.”

ignoring your snarky attitude, jeno glanced you up in down, taking in the sight of you in that tight, short cheer uniform that clung to you rather snugly. sweat still beaded at your damp legs and likely gathered between your breasts and down your back, as jeno was imagining. “yeah, you cheer. you won’t let me forget,” he said, amused.

“well, i’m busy,” you said, crossing your arms.

busy, my fucking ass, jeno thought to himself. “yeah, you won’t let me forget that, either. and yet, i saw you giggling with your friends at a party two weeks ago, looking completely fine. your poor, exhausted legs seemed to be working perfectly.”

“what, so i can’t have hobbies now?”

“sure, you can,” jeno replied, shrugging his shoulders. “i just have to ask, do you ever do anything productive with your time?”

“of course, i do,” you hissed, before quickly deflecting, “but we both know that’s not why you made me come all the way over here. so, what do you want?”

“your attention,” jeno said without missing a beat. his hands plopped against your bare shoulders and began wandering down your arms, rubbing them back and forth. “i’m in desperate need of a cheerleader’s sweet, precious attention.”

the disgruntled grimace on your face was the most effort you made to express your discomfort, not that he was looking there anyway. to him, at the moment, the sight of your body was much more appetizing. you watched with a repugnant burn simmering in your gaze as his eyes met your long, slender legs.

without warning, jeno grabbed you by your waist and hoisted you into the air, making you cry out in surprise. arms dangling around his neck, you held on for dear life, not an inch of your body feeling safe in his arms. you had been hauled further away from the ground by your cheermates, but this was different; no one wanted to fail, meaning no one would drop you. you had no reason to assume that jeno would handle you delicately.

but his burly arms, however, were not lost on you. though you hadn’t yet seen them in full power, your interactions mostly taking form of him forcing your back flush against the chiseled muscle of his chest as he kneaded yours, you could only imagine what the hands that groped you were capable of. 

in a matter of seconds, you landed on your back against his sheets, another shrill screech escaping your throat. “jeno, what the hell?” you exclaimed. 

“i’m not getting on my knees for you,” jeno said, the slyest of smiles tugging at his lips. “not unless it’s to fuck you. and you’re just too good to give it up, aren’t you?”

for him, definitely. and you would have said so, but your lips parted in a gasp, surprised and startled. something wet pushed along your sore legs, which were abruptly yanked to pillars far above your head so that they’d be more conveniently within reach of jeno’s tongue as he licked long, hot lines at them.

your eyes were rooted on him, fixed in a shape unlike their natural narrowed, black blaze and it would instead be more apt likening them to the fear and fret of a deer in crossed paths. wide, waiting, almost innocent. too used to circumstance to understand its fabric and too unfamiliar to chance to understand its fate.

unsatisfied, jeno bent your knee and pushed your leg further as he stood over the edge of his bed, and, in turn, over you, a grip on your ankles that you could feel in your bones. “jeno, that hurts,” you whined. 

jeno didn’t understand why you were bitching. “but you’re a cheerleader,” he echoed. “aren’t you flexible?”

you writhed uncomfortably as he continued shamelessly, tongue even daring to twist against the bone underneath the bend of your knee, a sensation that itched more than you expected. his lips sealed around your skin, sucking and nibbling.

needless to say, it was unlike anything you had experienced before. “stop, that’s weird!”

“stop complaining,” jeno groaned, pushing your leg even harder. “it’s like all you ever do is complain about how hard your life is.”

your eyes stung now not only with loathing, but the threat of hot tears. it was stupid; it sounded dramatic, but you felt it was warranted when he was the one actively making your life harder. “you’re a fucking weirdo,” you snapped. 

jeno heard it. the slight tremble in your voice despite the courage you’d been feigning. that was the sole reason he even bothered to look up at your face, the tears in them stealing his attention away in a heartbeat. he didn’t know whether to be amused or annoyed, or maybe even both. “god, now you’re crying,” he pointed out. “i haven’t even done anything to you. do you need me to give you a reason to cry?”

you shook your head. all you needed was to go home and recharge. you were beginning to doubt whether or not he was worth the trouble he carried with him in exchange for a grade that would keep your parents off your back, especially if he was going to make pulling stunts like this a regular habit. 

the last thing you expected jeno to do was tug the bottom of your top past the shadow of your breasts, slackening the taut grip on your ankles in favor of your wrists as if he knew you would dare resist him, and burying his face between your chest. you exhaled shakily, mortified by the hot, wet feel of his tongue licking a stripe between your breasts, gathering leftover sweat on its tip.

and you did thrash. but you were getting a taste of that power now; a power that wasn’t your own, a power that you couldn’t reap. a power that grabbed you with its calloused fist with a might so strong you couldn’t move. and it was for the first time that you felt utterly weak. there had to be a word for something as unfathomable as that, but it was so foreign to you that you couldn’t think of it.

to make matters worse, jeno was taking his time, sucking bruises onto the skin of your chest in between his licking, as if he wanted to ensure there was no spot left untouched, no drop of sweat left behind. your face strained with discomfort, wanting more than anything to get away from him and this awful feeling rotting inside of your heart.

maybe your cries for mercy were heard, because no sooner had you hoped for an end than it came. “you can go now,” jeno said, pulling away. he pulled your shirt back down and smoothed out any wrinkles, which was almost kind of him.

even though you were more than eager to be rid of him, you lay there, dumbfounded. it was one thing to be violated, and it was another to be dismissed, but to happen in rapid succession of each other quickly bred some ugly emotion that was only festering.

jeno had expected you to scurry out of his bed, and out of his apartment, so the fact that you were still there bemused him. “what, do you want more?” he teased. 

you shook your head, sitting up a little too quickly. your head started to feel lightheaded. you barked, “that isn’t what i agreed to!”

jeno had the audacity to laugh. like you had told a joke of some kind. “isn’t it? your clothes are still technically on. that was what you agreed to. remember?”

you dropped to your feet, pushing past him. “you’re disgusting,” was all you said, making a beeline for the door.

“takes two to tango, baby,” jeno called after you, simpering.

you didn’t look back. you couldn’t. there was an unpleasant stir in your gut - not as easily distinguishable as the loathing - unlike anything you had ever felt and you desperately wanted it to go away, to rid of yourself of anything that even remotely resembled lee jeno.

  ▸ chess, not checkers

deep, low grunts smacked against the walls and bounced back with almost the same amount of vigor of jeno’s quick, unrelenting hips, the sound nearly as hard and heavy as he was. the only thing rivaling the tightness of the hole he was using was the wince of his closed eyes and the grip of his strong hands.

jeno didn’t want to see. it would be too blatantly obvious that she wasn’t you, and that it wasn’t your blemished hips he was holding. though she sounded nothing like you. he knew that you would have been so much whinier, and despite finding them painfully obnoxious, he found himself longing to hear all your worthless, melodramatic complaints.

instead, he heard soft moans mingling with his own labored sounds as his hips moved with a mind of their own, imagining it was you underneath him where you truly belonged.

the image stained the back of his eyelids, burned behind them every time he closed his eyes; the shortness of your pleated skirt scrunched around your hips, weak legs on his broad shoulders with nicks and bruises scattered here and there, arms swinging aimlessly.

and if he got tired of hearing you, he could simply press his palm squarely against your mouth, muting the sound of your incessant fussing. if he really wanted to put you in your place, he could clasp his hands around your throat and clamp down onto your windpipe till all that escaped you was a pitiful, featherlight squeak.

jeno could tell no one had ever properly put you in your place before, no one had ever stood up to you and reminded you of your level. you were in desperate need of a humbling and didn’t even know it yourself. no one better than jeno for the role, he figured. a little cheerleader parading around in a uniform to feel different from everybody else she met didn’t scare him whatsoever.

the only thing saving you was essentially the fact that you were undeniably pretty and not necessarily to blame for the school’s superficial culture, which elevated girls like you in terms of status despite it having no real meaning or manifestations outside of campus, and put you on top when you were within the bubble.

but outside the bubble, away from the boys who thought of you as this beautiful, unattainable poison and the girls who enabled you with a faux sense of togetherness, you had no real identity, no real power, and no real worth.

and yet, maybe jeno was contributing to the problem. maybe he had inadvertently become one of the people elevating you. because choking in the heat of the moment, he uttered your name, forgetting who he was with and where he was.

hands shoved at him, hard. at least, hard enough for him to be jolted out of his reverie, finally gazing into the eyes that seethed because of him. “did you just call me that evil witch’s name?” seoa barked.

jeno winced. that was a fair reaction, all things considered. he wouldn’t have wanted to have been called your name out of everyone’s, either. he rubbed his nape. “well…”

“unbelievable,” seoa replied, scoffing. she got out of the bed and hurriedly began picking her clothes up from the floor, redressing herself.

jeno exhaled a breath, mostly annoyed that his orgasm had been ruined, but still feeling a hint of sympathy. “seoa, wait,” he said, touching her shoulder.

seoa recoiled, pulling away. jeno had never seen anyone be so ready to put on their pants after being with him, not even with a hell of a schedule after. “never touch me again,” she spat, walking out with her shoes in tow. “fuck you.”

jeno ran a hand through his hair, watching her leave, and murmured under his breath, “god dammit.”

a few days later, while they were attending a festival, jaemin marched over to jeno, draping an arm over his shoulder, and asked, “wanna tell me why seoa blocked all of us and she’s been glaring at me and mark since she got here?”

jeno snickered, shaking his head in slight disbelief. he was over it by now, he figured she would be too. “i let a certain cheerleader’s name slip while i was balls deep inside her,” he confessed. which he wasn’t necessarily proud of, considering the only reason he even knew your name was because you’d saved your own contact on his phone.

jaemin’s brows furrowed, glancing around as if he was trying to spot you in the crowd like a heat-seeking missle. “who?”

rolling his eyes, jeno grabbed the back of jaemin’s head with one hand and turned it in your general direction, hoping it would help. and jeno knew it had when jaemin’s confusion melted into disgust. 

“oh, that bitch?” he asked, nose wrinkled.

jeno chuckled, releasing his friend’s head. “she’s a bitch, but she’s pretty.”

jaemin couldn’t argue with that fact even if he’d wanted to. “yeah, i’ll give her that. cute in the face. she’s fake as hell, though. played jungwoo like a fiddle. he did six months worth of her homework because she promised they’d get together.”

that was news to jeno. he knew you were cruel, having had stories from jisung and the like, but he never knew of your history with jungwoo. if it could be called that. “did they fuck?” he couldn’t help but ask.

jaemin shook his head, taking a sip from the bottle in his hand before he answered, “he said she always turned him down. told him she was waiting for ‘the perfect moment.’”

now that was funny as hell. jeno had only known you for a few weeks and yet even he quickly pieced together that you weren’t the romantic type. “well, that’s fucked up,” he said, happily accepting yet another reason to dislike you. “but he’s dumb as fuck if he did her homework for six months without getting a crumb of pussy in return.”

jaemin made a face, nodding. “yeah,” he exhaled, giving the impression that he’d wanted to defend jungwoo. “but man, what possessed you to say her name while fucking the seoa? i need a good excuse. you just blew my shot with her.”

jeno shrugged. “don’t have one. she approached me maybe three weeks ago asking me to do her homework, and i agreed.”

jaemin gawked. that didn’t sound like jeno. like at all. “man, what? is she paying you?”

“oh, dividends,” jeno quipped.

“oh, and in what? pussy?”

“nope.”

jaemin looked horrified. he was so damn dramatic. “then, why the hell are you doing her bidding? that doesn’t sound like you.”

it didn’t, not immediately, but jeno had his reasons. “entertainment purposes,” he replied curtly.

jaemin shook his head, taking another swig of his drink. certainly, he was drinking, not smoking. “you’re becoming her pawn for entertainment purposes? unbelievable, bro.”

“chess, not checkers, jaem.” jeno smirked, putting a hand on jaemin’s shoulder. “you’ll see.”

▸ things good guys do 

“you’re lucky i was already out,” jeno told you when you let him into your apartment. “it’s the middle of the night for fuck’s sake. what do you want?”

“oh, please,” you spat, damn near rolling your eyes. your arms were folded. “you get to call me over at the ungodly hour, but when i do it, it’s a problem?”

jeno exhaled through his nose and ran a hand through his hair, wondering why he bothered to come here when he had no obligation to do your bidding, as jaemin had put it. but something told him that he wouldn’t have any regrets. “yeah, it is. now, what do you want?”

you were silent for a few moments, somewhat ashamed of the request you would ultimately make. you sighed, surrendering. “i need help with calculus,” you finally said.

jeno’s shoulders drooped, eyes shrinking in a contemptuous disbelief. “seriously?”

“seriously,” you repeated, sitting down on your couch as your laptop screen glared back at you from the coffee table.

jeno groaned, “i seriously don’t know how you even got into this school. can’t you do anything by yourself?”

you gawked, affronted. he made you sound like some incompetent, immature dickhead. “contrary to a weirdly popular belief, i’m actually really smart,” you insisted, having the transcripts to prove it. “but my professor sucks and i need an eighty-nine on my final to keep my A. and it’s not like you can walk in and take it for me because it’s proctored.”

jeno shook his head and reminded, “you know this little agreement we have doesn’t include me tutoring you, right?”

“it didn’t include you assaulting me, either,” you retorted.

“you think that was assault?” jeno asked, scoffing. he dropped beside you on your couch, the proximity instinctively making you suck in a breath. “if i wasn’t a good guy, i’d show you assault.”

scooting over to ensure maximum distance between your bodies, you argued, “good guys don’t call themselves good guys.”

“good guys have self-control,” jeno replied matter-of-factly, resisting a chuckle. he didn’t make a move to touch you, but he noticed how tense you looked now that he was sitting beside you. “i’ll tutor you, but we’ll have to up the terms of our agreement.”

you swallowed sharply, throat bobbing. you had a feeling you weren’t going to enjoy these new terms. “what do you want?”

“a blowjob.”

“that’s disgusting,” you spat without a second thought, features contorting with repugnance.

jeno quipped, “and so is your inability to do your school work without using and depending on every intelligent boy you meet, but hey, i’m sure you can’t help that.”

you sighed, exasperated, and cradled your face in your hands. was this seriously what your life had come to? giving a boy a blowjob in exchange for a pretty transcript?

jeno grinned, appreciating the sight of you in distress. it was a sign, a good sign, and he intended to bring it out of you more and more, bleeding you absolutely dry. lowering a hand onto your thigh, he urged, “come on, bruise those little knees for me. don’t you bruise ‘em for cheer?”

“that’s not the same!” you whined. 

“of course, it’s not,” jeno said, squeezing your thigh as his shoulders trembled with laughter. “cheer isn’t helping you graduate with flying colors.”

you desperately wanted him to be wrong, you were begging for him to be wrong, but you both knew that if he was, he wouldn’t have been here with you at the moment. not now, not three weeks ago, not ever. so you sucked it up, slamming down your laptop lid, and grumbled, “fine.”

maybe he didn’t come here for nothing, after all. grateful he’d trusted his gut, jeno stood up and clutched your arm to pull you along with him. “come on, let’s go to your room. i like my blowjobs a little messy and i’m sure you don’t want to mess up your nice carpet.”

you snatched your arm away from him, hating his insistence on touching you for every little reason whenever he possibly could, even if it was insignificant. your mouth was taut as you begrudgingly headed for your bedroom.

it was obvious that you were sour. walking behind you, jeno couldn’t help but chime, “glad to see that you can at least walk by yourself!”

you bristled in annoyance, wishing you could just get rid of him, but you knew it wouldn’t be wise to discard him so quickly. at least for now, he still held some kind of value.

jeno walked in behind you, looking particularly radiant, and you hated that you knew why. hell, you hated the reason itself. “get on your knees,” he commanded.

normally, you would complain about him giving you orders as if you were his lap dog or something, but you just wanted to get this over with. you were already so over this entire week. you slowly dropped to your knees, trying to ignore how demeaning it felt. 

“good girl,” jeno praised at your compliance. “now, look up at me with those pretty eyes and ask me to help you with calc. ask me nicely.”

you met his eyes, noticing the expectant glimmer in his gaze that you so badly wanted to knock off. but you weren’t dumb enough to incite violence against a grown man that walked around with his bulging muscles on display for all the world to see, and you didn’t doubt that he would hit you back. “jeno, please help me with calculus,” you pleaded, choosing your battles.

jeno hummed, satisfied. “you sound so pretty and sweet when you ask nicely, instead of demanding things. didn’t know you were capable of that,” he told you, running his fingers through your hair. “take it out. get me hard.”

your hands moved to his sweatpants, tugging at them enough to bring them down just shy of his knees, and doing the same with his underwear. he wasn’t hard yet, but that would be an easy fix; witnessing your state of pure anguish, watching you speak and move as if you were totally dejected, always excited him.

not to mention that the sight of you on your knees for him, the more he took it in, was arousing him even more than he thought it would. he had pictured it in his mind before, you serving him, pleasuring him, existing solely for him, but nothing could compare to the sight he beheld now.

at least, nothing other than you actually doing something rather than sitting there like an idiot. he liked taking control, but he figured you would take matters into your own hands, literally, when he gave the order. “do you need me to tell you what to do or something?” he asked, huffing irritably. “put your tongue on it. tease the head.”

your face and ears burned in ways they rarely did, but you nodded wordlessly and did as told, bracing your hands on his thighs and reluctantly pressing your tongue onto his tip, looking anywhere but his eyes as the muscle swirled around.

that amused jeno to no end. at least for now, he would let it slide, not feeling the need to maintain eye contact with you at the moment. if he needed to, he would simply just grab a nice, thick fistful of your hair and yank it back to jolt your head up at him. he could still see your pretty, bare face, hair arranged messily at the top of your head with a few needless strands jutting out here and there.

he liked that. of course, he would have been more than enthusiastic to have you suck him off if you’d been all dolled up, making you ruin your makeup and undo at least an hour of careful, clean work, but he also just took pleasure in seeing this natural, undone part of you. he wanted to see you for what you really were.

it didn’t take long for him to get hard. with all his thoughts revolving around you and the feel of your tongue on the head of his dick, that was a no-brainer. “good, now put it in your mouth. take as much as you can and not an inch less,” jeno instructed.

widening your mouth, you accepted his stout, heavy cock into your mouth, lips forming a tight suction around the head and steadily advancing down his shaft. bit by bit, inch by nightmarishly thick inch. you had made it maybe halfway down his shaft when you quickly discovered your limit.

jeno was surprisingly content, despite the fact that you definitely still had a few more inches to go. “there you go,” he said, giving your head a soft pat of approval. “suck. go slow. and don’t you dare let me feel any teeth.” 

your heart was thumping out of something you could only understand as fear, even though jeno hadn’t done anything to warrant it yet. inhaling through your nose, you tried to level your breathing, taking your time to draw in his cock lest you made a mistake. the hint of warning in jeno’s voice, in spite of the calmness, was clear.

jeno, on the other hand, was reaching elysian heights. faint grunts of, “fuck,” escaped his pink lips, large hands at his sides reflexively tensing into tightly clenched fists in need of something to grab, hips just barely stuttering. your mouth was hot and wet, with the added benefit of your torturous tongue pressed against his size.

there was a pinch of desperacy in your actions that overcame the resistance; a desperacy not necessarily to please him, but to appease him. accidents were the last thing you could afford and eliciting his frustration was the last thing you wanted.

“lick,” jeno said, chest undulating. “up and down.”

with a hum, you started drawing long, wet lines back and forth on his veiny shaft, almost as if you were tracing the bold veins with your tongue. jeno’s reaction was instantaneous, deep groans the only thing you could hear other than the wet sound of your mouth on his cock, sucking and licking. 

jeno’s eyes fluttered closed. “fuck. yeah, like that.”

you pressed your tongue against the underside of his dick, lingering in each spot for a moment before you continued, mostly because he seemed to like it when you did. which was your north star in an empty, dead night, because you had not a clue what the hell you were doing and you were afraid of making it obvious somehow.

if jeno could tell, he didn’t make it known. he was in a world of his own, all too happily reaping the pleasure from your mouth as if it was a dream come true for him. “kiss my balls. lick it.”

you stifled the sigh you were half tempted to let loose, pulling off his cock with a wet sound and a string of saliva connecting from the sticky tip to your glossy lips. moving your head, you took a moment to steel yourself before peppering tiny, soft kisses along his balls, down to his scrotum.

it wasn’t the most dignifying thing you had ever done, it may have even been the least, but your aching, sore jaw appreciated the break from sucking. you dragged your tongue over his testicles, tasting nothing but rubbery flesh. you were too busy avoiding his eyes to notice, but his face was tensing with pleasure, lips parting in low murmurs.

compared to when you first started, jeno was drastically harder now, massive, monstrous cock nearly bursting at the veins with precum leaking out from the thick tip. had your goal been to take all of him entirely, the sheer size of him would have immediately overwhelmed you.

“switch to your hand and go back to sucking me off,” jeno said, firm yet quiet. it sounded like he was trying to restrain himself, barely holding it together.

at least you were a fast learner. teasing the head of his cock, you gave it a few slow, tentative licks before you began to take him into your mouth again, all the while gently fondling his balls with your fingers. jeno groaned, arching into your touch. he couldn’t help himself.

you could taste the vicious amount of precum staining your tongue and you didn’t know how to describe it, other than slightly tart. the flavor blended with that of your own saliva, lingering on the roof of your mouth and the warm flesh underneath the flap of your tongue, mild as could be.

at least it wasn’t downright awful. you had heard stories before, not that you’d ever known what to make of them, or even pictured yourself being inside of them. if a month ago, someone had told you that you’d be on your knees for a man - for anyone - you would have said they were delusional.

jeno’s patience had worn thin and when you least expected it, he hauled you into the air, making you cry out in surprise just as you had the first time he’d lifted you into his buff, meaty arms. he tossed you onto the bed, just shy of the headboard, and suddenly straddled your chest. you gasped out a breath.

“open up,” jeno said, cock positioned right in front of your mouth.

not that he gave you the time to obey him, because he pressed himself against your slightly parted lips and forced them wider, entering your mouth on his own. your face strained, perfectly threaded brows tugging down into a discontented arch.

when you tried to pull away, jeno grabbed the sides of your face and pushed you onto his shaft with trembling hands, making you take him and leaving no room for escape, not until he decided he was done with you. there was only one concern present in his mind and that was getting himself off.

tears stung your eyes, that same implacable feeling you had when he’d dragged his tongue over the expanse of your soft, shaved legs and bare, sweaty chest finding you again in the most of unwanted company. jeno scoffed, spitefully tugging at your hair. “you know what’s funny? you’re such a fucking crybaby. you can’t take even half of what you give to others.”

chin flush against his scrotum and your nose not even an inch away from his bush, you almost gagged. the slurping sounds were humiliating, loud, wet squelching with every other big gulp making you want to shrink. however, jeno loved it, obsessing over the idea of making a mess out of you. the sound went straight to his dick.

jeno held your face in that low position, deeper than you’d ever taken him so far. “i’m really not that bad of a guy, you know,” jeno said, sounding like he truly believed it. you could have scoffed, if not for obvious reasons. “you just bring it out of me. i’m really just treating you like how you treat everybody else.”

he made you sound like something straight out of hell and you couldn’t help but think it was an unfair justification for something that felt too close to punishment. he obviously thought he knew you better than he did and it made you aggravated. that, or he somehow thought he was better than you.

there was a fleeting second of relief when jeno unmounted your chest and let you breathe, only to be crushed again when he dragged you by your wrists to the edge of your mattress, leaving you in the deep end. your eyes struggled to grasp with the flipped image of him nearing you, cock back down your throat before you could even blink.

though his hips thankfully had been moving at a calmer, steady pace before, despite forcing himself deeper than you could handle, he began to thrust more urgently into your mouth with the new change, embedding himself even further into your throat than you knew was possible. 

you cried harder, hating every second of it. the salty, bitter tang of your tears mingled with the tainted taste of spit and sharp bite of precum that had come to stain your chin and cupid’s bow. the vigor of his movements was overwhelming, overpowering.

“that’s it, cheerleader. cry harder,” jeno taunted, tracing his thumb over your face to swipe at the trail of tears. all the while his hips were moving faster, harder.

it felt like such a mockery, him doing that. a feigned act of sympathy while perpetuating the torment that was reducing you to tears as a selfish means of achieving pleasure of his own. 

then, his hands wandered down to your breasts, slipping inside your night shirt and mauling your chest. running his hands in a circle, his thumb brushed the erect, colored nipples and he clasped his hands around your chest, squeezing your breasts. “fuck, i’m close,” he grunted, grip tightening, pace hastening, force increasing. 

with how close he was, your nose was squarely against his the flesh of his balls, effectively cutting off your exhale. your heart thudded, racing and pounding. tensing with panic, your hands frantically moved, striking at his navel and thighs. even your legs were in alarm, unstill towards the other end of the bed. 

jeno groaned, smacking your cheek. another slap followed the sizzle, straight against your chest. “calm the fuck down,” he hissed, raising his arm in preparation to hit you again. “i’ll let you breathe as soon as i come, so you better not get in the way, if you know what’s good for you.”

even if you wanted to, you couldn’t stay calm. your body physically couldn’t handle it, responding the only way it knew how, trying to protect you. somebody had to. you closed your eyes, face warm with tears and panic, and you tried to brace your hands on the sheets, anything to comfort and stabilize yourself.

it got to a point where jeno couldn’t hold back anymore and he climaxed with a prolonged, guttural groan, hips still brutally smacking into your mouth as he painted your tongue and the back of your throat with his cum. he went as far as to grab your head again, forcing himself onto you as deep as he could go, and demanding, “swallow it.”

like hell you would. you pushed him away, coughing and choking as soon as you did, drops of cum pooling from your mouth and some of it flying here and there in the midst of your coughing fit.

irritated, jeno pressed his tongue against the roof his mouth. “you’re so fucking useless,” he groaned, grabbing his phone from the pocket of his sweatpants and quickly turning on the camera. “look at you. sitting here choking on my cum. you want it again, don’t you?”

you sat up, nearly tumbling over the edge of your bed from the intense convulsing, and turned to face the other way as you hunched over, tightly clasping your sheets. “fuck off, you got what you wanted!” you rasped.

jeno laughed. you sounded so gravelly. “you’re right. i did,” he replied, putting back on his pants and pocketing his phone. “so, tutoring. i’ll see you tomorrow. nighty night, cheerleader.”

he gave you a pat on the head and turned, heading straight for the door.

▸ hard feelings

something about today was different than usual. 

when you woke up, you had felt a shift in the air, but you’d chalked it up to being nervous about the final you had in three hours.

but when you finally went to go take it, however, you quickly realized that the unsettling feeling you had was not simply pre-exam jitters. it was something much more sinister than that. with the status you held on campus, you were used to being watched and gawked at, but this was different.

it felt like everybody and their mother was looking at you.

you were confused. you had been the subject of this much attention before, but only once; it was a couple years back when someone had spread a dirty, foul rumor about you. there was a social media page for your school called top ten, mostly used to shame women for their sexual exploits, but some men made their way on it too. that was how you heard about johnny’s clap rumor.

long story short, a rumor about you had originated there and it had taken you weeks to clear your name. but by that time, there was already another slut of the week. you were lucky to have your situation not only be false and debunked, but word of mouth. only the most unlucky of people, like hyeri, got images or videos of themselves posted.

and you were a community favorite. you would understand if you were new, but you had built a reputation around here. why would anybody believe floating rumors about you now?

but the abundance of stares didn’t end there. even in the cafe, you had caught someone watching you a little too hard to be a casual leer of admiration. and you were determined to find out why.

fortunately, you were able to find jennie and roseanne walking and talking in the courtyard, and you called out their names to stop them.

jennie turned first, and you watched her smile drop in real time. she glanced around, frantic, as if she was worried about someone watching her too.

roseanne smiled thinly, halfheartedly lifting her hand to wave. “hey,” she greeted quietly, matching jennie’s nerves.

they knew something you didn’t and it was glaringly obvious. “what’s going on?” you asked. “everyone’s looking at me and i know i’m not going crazy yet.”

jennie and roseanne glanced between each other, as if they both had bad news but neither of them wanted to be the one to tell you. after a few seconds, jennie groaned and said, “you might want to check top ten.”

your brows furrowed. you, on top ten? again? god, people could be so infuriating. “ugh, what rumor did they spread about me this time?”

jennie winced, which only made you more anxious. “it’s not just a rumor,” she whispered. “…it’s a video.”

“video?” you echoed in disbelief. that didn’t make sense. you hadn’t been with anyone except…except jeno. you tensed with anger.

roseanne opened her phone to show you the video that had been posted. it was an anonymous submission that claimed to be a recording of you. unfortunately, it was you, bits of your chest exposed from jeno reaching into your shirt and drops of cum landing there as you fought for breath. your face wasn’t visible, but there were some other distinguishing signs, like your hair and skin and sheets.

your heart thudded and your shoulders went cold, but your eyes were scalding. you were well aware that jeno didn’t like you, you didn’t exactly love him either, but you never thought he would stoop low enough to hurt you like this.

“i’m sorry,” roseanne apologized, dropping her phone in her purse when you were done. the video was only a few seconds long, but the damage was forever. “but don’t worry. it’s not like it’s top three worthy. everyone will move on next week.”

jennie nodded in agreement and briefly patted your back. “yeah. we’ll hang out again when this all blows over, i promise.”

then, they walked away. leaving you reeling with ache and betrayal. your friends didn’t want to be seen with you anymore. you were an embarrassment.

you swallowed the bitter feeling scorching up your throat and tapped your pockets for your phone, knowing there was one person you needed to see. 

you: you and i need to talk. right now.

jeno: about what?

you: don’t play dumb, i know you sent that video in!

jeno: maybe u should have swallowed

you: you know what, i don’t need you. i never have. and i don’t want your help anymore. just leave me alone

jeno: [one attachment]

jeno: you sure about that? because i’m sure there’s plenty of people that would love to see the version with your face in it

you gawked, hiding your phone screen against your chest while glancing around to make sure no one could see.

adjusting your brightness, you unlocked your phone again and texted him back hurriedly.

you: why are you doing this?! i’ve never done anything to you

jeno: this is bigger than just you and me

jeno: now if you don’t want everyone to see that pretty face, come put those lips around me again and we can work something out

and that was how it started. though you hadn’t had the upper hand in weeks, this was the moment you completely lost it. what was once an arrangement for him to help you in exchange for your attention became a hole of misery that you couldn’t dig yourself out of.

one blowjob became two, and two became three until you started to immediately recognize what it meant when you saw his name appear on your screen, knowing what it was before he even asked. not that he ever technically asked. it was always a command, a claim to your body wherever and whenever he wanted.

if you tried to be strong, if you tried to break free of him, he always threatened to make sure that recordings of you on your knees for him went up for all the world to see and no one would ever think of you the same way again. he was more than willing to taint the pretty, perfect image of yourself that you presented to the world.

you felt stuck, trapped. isolated with nowhere to go, no way out. you tried to conjure up a way to escape this situation, but you couldn’t think of anything feasible. if you wanted to protect what was left of your social life and dignity, if you wanted to go outside without being ashamed, your only option was to be compliant.

no matter how many late nights and sore throats you had to go through.

you were in the middle of dozing off, your head leaning off to the side, when the sound of your phone ringing suddenly jolted you awake. you were tempted to ignore it until you saw the contact and begrudgingly pressed the phone to your ear. “hello?” you grumbled.

“i’ve been texting you,” jeno said, sounding miffed.

you sighed, glancing over at the clock on your nightstand. “it’s literally two in the morning,” you complained. “i just got home from cheer practice and i’m trying to study for my last final. i haven’t even showered yet.”

“aw, poor thing,” jeno crooned, pretending to care. “come over.”

you heartless, selfish bastard, you snapped in your head. of course, you were in no place to say that out loud, so you settled for a calm, “okay,” and hung up.

stifling a yawn, you grabbed your keys and lazily stepped into a nearby pair of shoes, stretching your arms above your head before willing yourself to get up from your desk chair. then, you accidentally scraped your leg against the bottom drawer of your desk, which you’d accidentally left open. 

“ow!” you cried out, bending down a little. “god, why does this world hate me? what did i do wrong?”

it was a wonder you managed to make it to jeno’s apartment without getting into a wreck, although at this point, you wouldn’t care if you had as long as it killed you. or put you into an indefinite coma.

on the other hand, jeno seemed strangely enthusiastic to see you and looked full of life and energy. “there you are, cheerleader,” he said, pulling you in to hug you from behind. he led you over to his couch, much like he always did. 

you covered your mouth with your elbow as you yawned. “can we get this over with? i’m sleepy.”

jeno chuckled. “i don’t want you to suck me off. not right now.”

your brows furrowed, wondering if you had heard him right. if not for that, then why were the hell were you here?

“i’m sad,” jeno said, not even attempting to keep the smug smile off his face. “i need you to cheer me up.”

you blinked at him like he was stupid. “cheer… you up?”

jeno nodded his head, glancing you over with a grin. you looked like hell. partly because you were so obviously exhausted, but he knew he’d been having an effect on you too. “yeah, cheer me up. you’re a cheerleader,” he reminded, sounding proud of himself. “i want you to do your routine for me.”

you gawked in disbelief and whined, “i’m not even in my uniform.”

“so?” jeno asked. “those bones might be tired, but they still work. matter of fact, take everything off.”

you were quick to exclaim, “what the hell? jeno, can i please just do it later? everything hurts.”

“take everything off,” jeno repeated, his voice more stern this time. “and move your ass.”

defeated, you reluctantly began to peel off your clothes, ignoring the way jeno shamelessly ogled you for the sake of your own comfort and tugging your shirt from above your head. you couldn’t even look at him as you abashedly stepped out of your shorts and panties.

what was even more mortifying was having to perform every stupid little routine for him with your entire body on display and your chest bouncing with every motion. putting on the sweet, forced smile and calling out the chants you’d memorized, all the while ignoring how your bones ached.

when you were done, he made you sit in his lap so he could touch you as he pleased, paying no mind to the way you squirmed uncomfortably.

you cried enough tears to occupy a sixth ocean the next day. you weren’t exactly sure why. you just remembered miraculously waking up in your bed, sitting up and staring into empty space, and the water crashing down after a few minutes. it took you even longer to notice you were sobbing.

after a couple of meaningless hours, you got the random urge to call your moan, yearning to hear her voice. “mommy?” you said when she picked up.

“she calls,” your mother chirped, pleasantly surprised. “hi, baby. i was starting to wonder if you’d forgotten about little ole’ me. you know, you never come see me anymore.”

you forced yourself to laugh, trying to strip your voice of the agony so that she wouldn’t notice. “i know. i’m sorry,” you apologized quietly. “i’ll come see you soon.”

“you better,” your mother snapped playfully, no real malice in her voice. “now, what’d you call me for? and don’t say just to check up on me, because that’s a damn lie.”

“i miss you,” you confessed. 

“a lie don’t care who tell it.”

“ma,” you groaned, knowing she was just messing around. “i swear i do.”

“mm-hm,” your mother hummed. you could already picture her in your head, eyeing you with suspicion, arms folded over her chest. “let me guess why you really called. you’re having boy trouble.”

your eyes flickered in surprise. how did she know? you doubted it was exactly what she was thinking, but she was close enough. “yeah, something like that.”

there was no doubt that your mother sounded excited. you had always seem thoroughly uninterested in boys and dating, and while she was thankful when you were a teenager, it was a little worrying now. “it’s about time,” she said, clasping her hands together. “tell me all about it.”

you sighed, wondering how you could tell her about jeno without making her fret. she had gotten all pumped, you didn’t want to tear her down and ruin everything. “well, there’s this guy i met almost two months ago. at first, i didn’t feel anything for him. he was just another boy, you know. someone i could keep around for a good time, not a long one.”

your mother hummed again. you could hear metal pans clacking against her counter and assumed she was cooking. she always did that. 

taking a deep breath, you continued, “but everything changed. he’s different from every other guy i’ve dealt with. he doesn’t just do what i say because i say so. and as the weeks passed, he’s started listening to me less and less than he already was.”

your mother chuckled. “and you didn’t like that, huh? got your mother’s stubborn heart and indomitable spirit.”

in truth, you didn’t think you had half of your mother’s strength, but you would never tell her that. as far as she knew, everything was going perfectly in the life you’d created here on campus. and it probably was the last time you’d spoken to her. “yeah,” you replied, wishing that were true. “i don’t like it. he makes me feel something i’ve never felt before.”

“he makes you feel powerless,” your mother told you. “he’s got you feeling weak because he’s the first man you’ve ever met willing to stand up to you. trust me, i was surprised the first time too. that’s how you got here.”

“ma,” you groaned with a wince.

she laughed. the sound made you happy, something you hadn’t been so certain you were capable of feeling anymore. “i’m just keeping it real.”

you thought about her words. she may have been way off in her perception of what this relationship between you and jeno really was, but she wasn’t wrong about how he made you feel. weak, powerless. suddenly, this consuming feeling you’d been having for weeks finally had a name, and yet that made it even harder to come to terms with.

because you didn’t want to be powerless. you wanted to be in charge, in control. you hated when things didn’t go your way, and more importantly, you hated when there was nothing you could do about it. it was supposed to be you wielding power over people’s head, not being crushed beneath the weight of tyranny.

and it was then you fully realized the scope of your feelings; you absolutely hated lee jeno.

▸ cheerleader? breed her! 

standing there in a skimpy dress, face done and your feet clamped in heels that made you four inches taller, you didn’t feel like yourself.

you thought that you would. in truth, you hadn’t feel like yourself in months. today marked a little over two months since you made the mistake of beginning that agreement with jeno and you regretted it more than anything. he had completely ruined you, your life, and everything that made you feel whole.

there were pieces of yourself that you would never get back, thanks to him. it was true that everyone had forgotten about the ordeal regarding the recording of you, but not without cost. it was a price you were still paying everyday; even when you weren’t on your knees or otherwise commiting demeaning acts for the sake of jeno’s entertainment, you were hurting and mourning yourself.

you were starting to wonder if it was worth it. obviously, you liked being respected amongst your fellow students, but you were no longer certain if their respect was worth the price of your sanity. it was hard for you to even have basic interactions without giving away how incredibly lonely and isolated you felt, how trapped and doomed you were. helpless and powerless.

jeno came up behind you, startling you. he was like a wolf and you were a little lamb masquerading as a wolf. “there you are, baby,” he said, snaking his hands around your waist. he seemed to love doing that. “did you know our anniversary was a few days ago?”

you scoffed. the two-month anniversary of the worst decision of your life to date. there was nothing you would’ve give to undo it. doing your homework yourself would have spared you so much unnecessary pain. “stop doing that,” you whined, scanning the party. “someone will see.”

jeno chuckled, clearly not giving a damn. “unlike someone, i don’t really care what people think about me.”

you wished you didn’t care. there would always be a part of you that cared, that was so afraid of what people could say about her that she would do anything to tailor her image perfectly. matter of fact, it was all you had cared about in high school, and every year after that was spent maintaining the brand.

jeno’s hand went from your waist to your ass, making you tense in his grasp. “you know, i think i deserve some kind of compensation for putting up with you for two months.”

you deserved that too. freedom. being unshackled from his cruel, unrelenting orders was the one thing you wanted most and the one thing he refused to give you. “don’t you have your compensation almost every day?” you asked irritably.

“that’s not nearly enough,” jeno insisted, squeezing your ass.

god, how greedy could someone be? it was like he wanted to bleed you dry until there was nothing left.

“you know what i want?” jeno asked huskily, leaning into your ear. “i wanna fuck you.”

your eyes widened a little. you had hoped this day would never come, even though you weren’t oblivious to the fact that jeno had steadily gotten bolder in his interactions with you, the things he made you do for his satisfaction becoming entirely more erotic. 

grabbing your arm, jeno started to lead you away. “come on, let’s go.”

you rooted in place, nearly stumbling. you didn’t want to go anywhere with him, especially if it meant putting up with his insatiable urges. “jeno, i don’t want to,” you said, trying to push at him.

jeno scoffed, wondering when you would realize that he didn’t care what you wanted and you had no way of winning. “if you want to make a scene in front of all these lovely people, be my guest,” he hissed in your ear.

panicked, you glanced around the crowd in search of someone that could save you. it was like everybody was looking at you until you actually needed them to. 

then, you locked eyes with jungwoo. matter of fact, it seemed like he’d been looking at you much before you’d even glanced in his general direction. he saw you, saw the way jeno was holding you roughly, saw the obvious stiffness on your face, saw the pleading look in your eyes; but ultimately, jungwoo saw the image of you letting him down after bleeding him dry for half a year, and he turned away.

your shoulders slumped in defeat.

jeno started dragging you toward the stairs, pushing past a bunch of drunk people dancing on each other. your heart was thumping, and your whole body was rigid with nerves as you tried to think of a way out of this even though you knew there was no option without consequences.

just your luck, the bathroom jeno hauled you too was empty. he pushed you in and locked the door, pressing you against the counter. you gasped and glanced at your reflection in the mirror, hardly recognizing yourself. “jeno, please,” you whispered, trying to plead with him. “please, don’t do this.”

jeno didn’t seem moved by your begging, but he did, however, appear amused. “why are you acting so sensitive about this after all we’ve done together? it’s like you’ve never gotten fucked or something.”

you swallowed, not saying a word. 

the silence was very loud, very telling. jeno arched a brow, a realization dawning on him. “you really have never been fucked,” he said, surprised. “damn, i should have figured that out when you were acting like you never sucked dick before.”

your face flushed with heat. it wasn’t like you were necessarily embarrassed about it, not until now. you had always taken it as something to pride yourself on, being fuckable but untouchable. “you say that like it’s a bad thing,” you replied, glancing down at the sink to avoid eye contact.

jeno chuckled. it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, but he had been convinced that you were completely pretending to be a goody two-shoes. to know there was at least one percent of you that was still pure amazed him. he lifted the skirt of your dress with his hand and brought it between your legs, asking, “what, you just never find anyone worthy enough for your perfect, sacred pussy?”

you gasped out when he touched you there. his fingers circled your clothed cunt, thumb digging into your inner thigh. feeling scandalized, you grumbled, “maybe i’m just not interested.”

jeno shook his head, astonished by the amount of attitude you still had after all these months and determined to break it out of you. “and maybe i just don’t care if you’re interested or not.”

it went without saying that jeno always made you feel like some kind of object, but this was next level. “this is dehumanizing!” you exclaimed. 

hearing you, of all people, talk about dehumanizing made for an interesting conversation. big, calloused hand pressing harder into you, he asked tauntingly, “doesn’t feel good, does it?”

your glossy, painted lips were parted, unable to breathe through your nose. your eyes burned with the threat of tears and it was becoming second nature for them to shed whenever jeno was nearby. “i don’t understand,” you whimpered, trying to free yourself, but to no avail. “why are you doing this to me? what have i ever done to deserve this?”

jeno could feel you struggling, trying to push him off you, but all it did was move your hips against his rapidly hardening cock. he groaned, grabbing hold of your ass and pushing you further back against him. “fuck, just like that,” he growled. “haven’t i told you this already? this is bigger than you and me.”

it wasn’t lost on you that jeno obviously had heard stories about you from other people, stories of happenings you probably couldn’t deny, but it had nothing to do with him. “look, if you’re doing all this to get back at me because i hurt one of your friends or something, i’m sorry, i really am. but i can’t do this anymore, jeno. i want to stop, please. please let me go on with my life.”

“what a privileged response,” jeno hissed without concealing his vitriol. at the same time, he kept palming you over your panties, noticing them beginning to cling to your cunt, and tore your underwear to the side to insert a pair of fingers inside. “what about all those girls whose lives you ruined? i’m sure they wanted you to stop. and you didn’t until they were too humiliated to show their faces around here again and you had no choice.”

you swallowed the lump in your throat. he knew about the girls? “jeno, i haven’t done that since freshman year,” you told him, desperately trying to reason with him.

two loud, harsh smacks echoed in the tiny, crowded space of the bathroom, followed by a gasp consequently. your pussy stung, your head jerking around to look at jeno. “do you really think that matters?” he asked, grabbing your hair to turn you back around just as quickly, as if you didn’t deserve to look at him. “you think that matters when the pain you’ve done to them is permanent? they don’t forget. and they damn sure don’t forgive you.”

you tensed, hating the way your walls were gripping and gushing around his fingers. “so what? you think you’re god or something? is this you punishing me for my sins? you’re not exactly what i would call a saint, either.”

“me and you, we’re not the same,” jeno remarked, a nip to his tone as if you needed the reminder of how much he disliked you. “you only pick on people that you think are below you somehow. people you think won’t fight back.”

“i know i’m not a good person,” you admitted in between gasps, thighs straining as his fingers pumped into your pussy harder, faster, reaching places you’d never touched on your own. “ i know i don’t deserve to be happy. maybe i don’t even deserve to be treated with respect, but please leave me this one thing. spare me just this once.”

jeno laughed cruelly, pulling his fingers out of your drenched hole and smearing your juices all over your folds and thighs. his finger unintentionally swiped over your sensitive clit, making your legs quiver and your stomach tighten, sucking in itself.

“damn, baby. you really know how to hurt my feelings,” jeno said, voice dripping with sarcasm. he withdrew his fingers, bringing them into his mouth for a taste. “you don’t want me to fuck you that bad?”

your heart was spiking with dread, thumping belligerently in your chest, your ears, and between your legs. no one had ever made you feel so vanquished.

“take my dick out,” jeno said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “hurry up.”

you sighed anguishedly, turning around to undo his pants and slip his aching dick out of its confinements. for months, jeno had been suppressing the urge to fuck you, wanting to wait for the moment where it would be most pivotal.

getting a hold of your throat, jeno roughly yanked you flush against him the second you whirled back around to face the tiny bathroom counter, making you stand tall against his chest. his voice was almost as rough as the hands that held you. “put it in.”

you gawked, shaking your head.

his fingers tightened dangerously around your windpipe, making your damp eyes widen and your jaw slack against his whitening knuckles, maybe half a wheeze making its way out your throat before he warned, “if i have to fucking tell you again, i’m gonna crush every bone in your goddamn neck.”

with no other option, you meekly reached behind you to grasp him in your quivering hand, aimlessly steering him to your hole and sinking your teeth into your bottom lip as the tip brushed past your dripping folds. jeno released a shaky breath, slapping your hand away and rutting his hips into you from behind, sheathing himself inside in one go.

he slackened his unforgiving grip on your throat, shoving you back against the counter none too gently, but you still felt like you couldn’t breathe when he entered you, a mangled whimper echoing out. your fingers desperately braced the edges of the counter for purchase as you tried to will yourself to inhale, but it was like you were choking.

jeno had a death grip on your thighs, forcibly pushing them apart a little more as he coated himself with the creamy, hot wetness of your unwanted arousal. “mm, hard to believe you don’t secretly want me when you’re sucking me in like this, baby,” he said, proud.

you shook your head in denial, face flushing with a heat that spread to your ears and neck. it didn’t help that there were beads of salty, hot tears pouring down your face and reducing your vision to one big, hazy blur. you didn’t want him, not even a little bit. but you couldn’t control the way your body was responding.

the lewd, wet smack of his cock thrusting deeply into your tight cunt rang out so loudly that you wanted nothing more than to hide into oblivion and never be seen again, mortified. it made things seem so much different than they were. his long, thick cock was stretching you beyond the cusp your limits and making you gape.

“i’m so nice to you,” jeno said, tipping his head back. you could see his chest rising and falling through his clothes, his body taut with pleasure and excitement. “i’ve been holding back for so long, trying not to fuck you. won’t keep me out this pussy now. i’m gonna fuck you till your legs give out. have you at practice limping.”

your knees, wobbly as they already were, began knocking into the cabinets at the bottom of the sink. you winced your eyes closed as your fingers curled around the edge of the counter roughly enough to change the color around your knuckles, hoping to think of something, anything, to take you out of the moment.

but it was too hard. you couldn’t ignore the throb of your gushing walls as they kneaded his cock, making him grunt in your ear as he leaned over your backside. you couldn’t ignore the faint sting of his nails stabbing your hips and his heavy palm slapping repeatedly against your ass. and you definitely couldn’t ignore the dirtiness staining you from head to toe.

sure, it felt good, his body rocking against yours steadily, but it didn’t feel right. many nights you had pictured what losing your virginity would be like, both the way that it was supposed to look and the way that you were more inclined to, but this was neither; it was heartless, it was punishing, and it was brutal.

jeno grabbed you by your hair and forced you to look into the mirror, yanking your head up. “there it is,” he spat, words sounding painfully familiar. “there’s the real you.”

your hair was messy from him tugging it every which way, treating you like a doll to mishandle. your makeup was ruined from your sobbing, the path of your tears harsh against everything else. your eyes were red and your right lash looked like it was barely holding on, the effect of rubbing at your face.

jeno watched you take in the destroyed sight of yourself, practically hearing the critical thoughts hopping in your mind. “this is what you really are. this is what you’re sucking my dick to keep hidden from the world. is it worth it, baby? or do you just like the way i taste on your tongue?”

no, it wasn’t worth it. you were beginning to understand that now. he was taking too much from you, too much of your peace and too much of your sanity. maybe it would be better to be judged and lonely but free than to be loved by people whose opinion of you could change on a dime anyway at the expense of your soul. 

your pride had been buried a long time ago, brutally murdered in her sleep. “jeno, please stop. i’m uncomfortable,” you complained, tearing your eyes away from your reflection in shame.

jeno smacked your ass again, making you cry out sharply. “you just love being the victim when it’s convenient for you, huh?”

“i’m sorry!” you whimpered. “i don’t know what you want me to do. what do you want? just tell me.”

jeno snickered, running his hands over your hips and waist to knead the flesh. then, he brushed your hair out of your face, nibbling at the skin behind your ear before growling, “you know what i want, cheerleader? i want to assassinate all there is that you love about yourself and leave everything else untouched, so that you understand not why everybody hates you, but why nobody loves you.”

those words hit you straight in the gut. for the first time, you had no retort, no comeback. 

hips beginning to move faster, jeno continued, “the boys don’t love you, they just want to fuck you. they would kill to be as deep inside you as i am. the girls sure as hell don’t love you. they either want to be you, or they resent you for beating their asses. and don’t get me started on those girls you call friends.”

“jeno, stop,” you whispered, an agony vicious enough to rip through flesh tearing you straight in half. 

but jeno didn’t listen. he wasn’t done, not until he made his point. “don’t think i didn’t notice how lonely you were for the whole week everybody was talking shit about you. they didn’t want to touch you with a six foot pole, did they? they don’t want to be seen with you unless it gives them a good rep.”

there was a pang in your chest. you didn’t want to admit it, but that cut deep. you had heard people say mean things about you before, it was to expected when you were an emblem of popularity on campus, but few things had reached you where it hurt.

jeno stroked your messy cheek, almost with affection. “but it’s okay. because you want to know something, baby? it was hard for me to admit it to myself, but you truly fascinate me. i can’t get you out of my head sometimes. you piss me off every time without fail, but i keep coming back to you. i like you, baby. if no one else does. you grew on me.”

you weren’t sure if that was supposed to make you feel better, but it didn’t. if anything, you only felt more heartbroken and wounded not only by his words, but by your inability to counter them. it truly dawned on you, right then, just how alone you were.

jeno threw his head back, grunting. his hips were moving with a mind of their own, eager to finish. “fuck, i’m gonna come.”

your eyes went wide in panic, remembering that he had gone in bareback. 

“jeno, don’t…”

before you could even finish your statement, jeno clamped a hand over your mouth, muffling your protests into his pale palm. “you know what guys at my school used to say about cheerleaders?” he asked, obviously not expecting a response. “‘see a cheerleader, breed a cheerleader.’ ‘cheerleader? breed her.’”

you thrashed, but it was pointless. those thick, burly biceps of jeno’s were one of the first things you noticed about him and they weren’t just for display. he held you in place as he quickened his pace again, his thrusts unrelenting.

with a couple more quick yet shockingly rhythmic thrusts, jeno emptied his load deep, deep inside you. he moaned, moving his hands from your mouth to your hips to keep himself steady as he reeled from the pleasure of a mind-numbing orgasm. “goddamn,” he cursed, panting for breath.

you stifled a small noise as you felt his warmth flooding into you, unsure how to feel at this point. 

to your surprise, jeno started fucking you again, never once daring to pull out as if he was determined to fuck every drop of his sticky cum as deep inside you as it could reach. his stringy, thick load gathered on his dick and inside your pussy, leaking down your thighs as he kept going.

you gasped out, moans involuntarily leaving you as you were stuffed full of him over and over. you didn’t mean to, but it was impossible to control.

then, jeno stuck a hand between your legs and rolled his thumb over your clit, which didn’t help. you cried out, tensing. “jeno, stop! it’s sensitive.”

“that’s the point, dummy,” jeno replied, stimulating your clit with his hand while simultaneously pumping himself into you from behind.

your core tightened, heat wafting over you as your chest heaved wildly. “what are you doing?” you stammered. 

jeno smiled, watching in the mirror how your face tensed with a blend of confusion and ecstasy that you couldn’t rein. “you really think i’m an asshole, huh? i’m trying to make you come. relax and let me.”

you shook your head. you didn’t want to come, not for him, and most definitely not on his cock for him to feel every unintentional shudder of your pussy as it gushed and pulsed with hot, sweet release; that would be embarrassing.

that made jeno chuckle. “no? you don’t wanna come for me, baby?” he asked, furrowing his brows playfully as he tilted your face back up to the mirror with a push of your jaw. “come on, let go. you keep saying i’m not a good guy, but you shoot me down when i try to be nice.”

you moaned again, against your own reason and better judgment. “please,” you rasped with half a breath.

“please, what?” jeno asked, rubbing you with just a pinch more force. “do you even know?”

god, you hated him; you absolutely despised him. but damn, if it didn’t feel good to have someone touch you after you’d spent so long avoiding sex like it was something to be ashamed of.

and this? this was definitely something you were ashamed of.

and yet the most shameful moment, perhaps, was when you finally couldn’t resist the pleasure of his big, long fingers twirling around your sensitive nub and his brutal hips smacking into you with a vengeance, clamping around him as you orgasmed with a loud cry and the heat shot through every corner of your body.

“shit,” jeno hissed, the feel of you finishing around him draining the cum from his balls for a second time.

your jaw slacked, overwhelmed by how you felt completely and utterly stuffed, ropes of his cum filling you to the hilt. jeno thrusted into you a little more, sending a flare through your back and shoulders, until he stilled for good. you could hear him panting behind you.

after a moment or two, jeno pulled out. hand between your thighs, he gathered some of his stringy release on his finger and brought it up to your lips. “open up. don’t make me say it again.”

you opened your mouth wide enough for him to insert two of his cum-coated fingers inside. then, you sucked at them and swallowed it down, knowing those would be the next words to leave his mouth. 

jeno raised a brow, pleasantly surprised. he took his time to withdraw his fingers, enjoying the sensation of you licking them clean. “see, i knew you loved eating my cum.”

your face burned, but you didn’t have the energy to deny it. not after that. it felt like there was a gaping hole in your chest, a void that would never be filled. 

“you’re learning,” jeno commented, humming in satisfaction. “good girl. you know, maybe one day we can get along. don’t you think?”

“yeah,” you murmured weakly. at this point, you would just go along with whatever he said. and maybe that was why he figured you could experience some peace together now.

keeping your dress bunched up, jeno grabbed some tissues from his left and started to wipe at you. “let’s get you cleaned up before we leave, cheerleader. don’t want the entire student body to see you like this, right?”

you whipped your head around, eyes widening in surprise. leaving to go where? certainly you weren’t going home with him after tonight. 

“did you think i was kidding?” jeno asked with a sly smile, slipping your panties backing in place and giving your shoulder a fleeting kiss. “i told you, i’m gonna fuck you till your legs give out.”

[jaemotion]

would never — ljn (m.)

summary ⇢ letting go of one's first love have always been the hardest but you and Jeno promised to stay in touch. once a year, you meet at the place where he asked you to be his, catching up while reminiscing memories before you broke up. it never changed since then, until it slipped your mind this year.

pairing ⇢ jeno x reader

rating & word count ⇢ 18+ | 9.2k

genre ⇢ smut, angst, a bit of fluff, exes to lovers, first love!au

content/warnings ⇢ miscommunication, outdoor sex, marking (scratching, hickeys), begging, size kink, jealousy, rough-ish sex, dirty talk, fingering, name calling (slut), possessiveness, edging, lil spanking, commitment issues, they're both lowk toxic if you squint, aftercare, jeno's glove and his thing for thighs lol

author's note: i feel bad that i haven't participated nor contributed for any events each time my department hosts smh. i happened to come up with this idea around his birthday last year, thanks to @starxiaos accidentally sending me inspo for the plot lmao

event: eau de fleur host: @k-vanity's fashion department season: spring flower: forget me nots additional prompts: stargazing, nature date, picnic in the park (not really but)

Almost.

You were almost late at your meetup with Jeno. The stupid on your phone reminder did go through but you happened to be having your first deep sleep after so long—possibly in years.

Surely Jeno would understand. He himself loves sleep. Other than sports, it’s the only activity he prioritizes when he's home. In the past, he revealed that your nap dates are one of his favourite ways to hangout with you, while you were on the opposite, preferring to go out more and socialize. Eventually though, you warmed up to it but that's mostly because of how adorable Jeno looks while sleeping.

Not at the moment though. It’s the contrary. 

The dim lighting from the nearby lamp post didn’t shroud his grim expression. From your view, his side profile looks sharper than the soft ones you've gotten used to. Instead of the anticipated looks from him whenever he sees you, he's looking straight ahead, at the mountains beyond, to maybe clear his head before you arrive. Occasionally, he glances but the closer you approach, the more you feel the heated glares he’d been throwing at your way, amplifying your nerves the closer you are to him. 

"For a second, I thought you wouldn’t show up."

The accusation made you pause. Jeno's voice lacks any other emotion other than the sardonic smile he wears after. He looks away afterwards, timing to drop those words as soon as you're on earshot but he occasionally glances at you until he deems the ground you're walking on is fully safe. Even when he’s annoyed, his habit of making sure you’re okay never fails to deliver.

"Jen, I would never stand you up." Your response came out soft, a bit sluggish, the trace of sleepiness still following you. His blatant insinuation didn't even dissuade you, stepping closer to him to appeal your point. He hasn't looked at you yet so now you're hesitating, the instinct to touch his shoulder halted by his indifference.

But this allowed you to check him out.

He looks great as always, the tight white shirt hugging his big frame, the belt strap around his strong bicep—

Wait.

“Recognized something?”

Your ex boyfriend's question jolted you fully awake. He's eyeing you now like a hawk, looking smug as he focuses on your nervous stance. The surprise on your probing eyes were evident as you're putting together why his fit is familiar.

You only remember one person who wore the same top he did. One of the guys you were “seeing” in the last few months had that on at the last house party you went to. 

Heeseung.

But how did he know?

"What, are you stalking me now?"

You slightly berate yourself for sounding defensive. You shouldn’t even feel any guilt at all but here you are trying to mask the slight guilt bubbling up inside your heart at his question. You’re single and certainly you didn’t owe your ex-boyfriend any sort of explanation. 

Jeno's just testing you and you fell right into his trap. He's aware that you couldn’t hide your facial expressions well, choosing to confront you before you can touch him. You don't know why the simple question is affecting you this much. Probably because he's aware that you're having flings and he's making you feel like you’ve been caught.

And it twists something in you that your accusation barely did any damage on him.

"You re-posted it to your story." Jeno scoffs then it clicked.

You remember Giselle tagging you in that random selfie she took at the said house party earlier this month. In it, Heeseung was all over you, wearing the identical shirt and arm belt your ex boyfriend is clad in tonight.

“Then you decided to wear a similar fit to what? Taunt me?” Your voice rises in response to his contempt. Honestly, you don’t know where he’s going with this. You're already frustrated, your mixed emotions slowly piling up and he's still getting to the point. It didn’t help that his simple goading already provoked this much from you. 

Maybe that’s what he wants. His plan all along.

“Is he the one you’re dating?” 

So he's choosing to ignore your interrogation with another question as he walks towards his motorbike. He unloads the picnic basket to the ground while waiting for your answer. 

“I wouldn’t be here if I already am, Jeno” you reply with resignation, wanting to give up this conversation already.

This is not the yearly catch up that you’ve been looking forward to.

Jeno’s never this adamant to know of your dating life as you are to his. It’s one of the conditions you’ve discussed after promising to stay in touch. No bringing up of people you’re seeing unless it’s official.

Because only then, it'll matter.

“Thought you’d end it once you arrived.” 

The simple comment almost offended you but you forced yourself to calm down. You don't want to be overwhelmed this early on and Jeno's not letting you breathe with his rapid assumptions. The way he said the words however is too calm. Nevertheless, you can feel the anger lingering around even if he’s not facing you.

“Again, I’m not dating anyone...just playing around...you?"

Skirting around the question stirs an embarrassment inside your chest. You're fully aware that your ex boyfriend does the same as you. The fact that you sounded unsure despite your indignation pushes you to stay quiet when he hasn't answered. There's a slight hesitation on his face that you caught briefly, but you tried to ignore it. You're no better if you pointed it out.

"Here and there." He says quietly after almost a minute of silence.

You fight to keep your face neutral. 

It stings to hear him confirm it and you feel like a hypocrite for feeling it this way. If it weren't for his best friend you wouldn’t have known. You unexpectedly bumped into Jaemin at a party in freshman year and there he accidentally spilled how Jeno's been doing. You knew how Jaemin was and you refused to be affected by such news.

But it did sparked your willingness to try with others, resolving the guilt that you once had for considering it after the break up.

You wouldn't lie that it didn't affect you. He's your first and only boyfriend, the first relationship—your first love. That's not something you can just erase especially when your break up was mutual.

On your first meetup since breaking up, you were anxious that Jeno wouldn’t show up but he did and even reassured you that he always will unless of course, things change. It's the reason you never brought it up since then. There was no need to and you didn’t want to waste the limited time you have together for something that shouldn’t matter.

However, the anxiety lingered since you found out and it magnifies whenever this time of year arrives.

Jaemin may have discreetly clarified that Jeno tends to cut off anyone he’s seeing when this time comes around. You’ve merely retorted that it’s the typical “spring cleaning” everyone does before the school year ends but the truth was, it never erased your worry.

It's like a waiting game between you and Jeno. Just like the previous years, you’ve tried your best to not care and not ask about any girls in Jeno’s life. And you've adapted his method, entertaining boys occasionally, until recently. This year, you haven’t cut off ties with any of them yet and you have no idea why.

Jeno wasn’t annoyed that you’re late—maybe a little but he’s used to it. He's mostly anxious but that absolutely doesn't mean he was stalking you either. He thrifted that top combo before he saw your story so why not put it to good use? Won't you be delighted to see that he and your newest fling are twinning?

The timing’s too perfect for him to not wear it for you.

And it's so fun watching you try so hard to look unaffected when he can read through you.

Right now, he's watching your gaze on the pavement after hearing his answer, contemplating whether to confront you further or not. You were already late and the confrontation went longer than he expected but as much as he didn’t want to find out why, he had to ask or else it’ll never leave his mind. 

Not that anything about you ever did really.

“Last question and be honest with me on this one. You forgot didn’t you?” he asks, noticing your eyes fixated on the grass this time.

"I didn't. I'm literally here” you lamely respond and the guilt in your voice tells him enough.

“Don’t lie to me.” He seethes, looking away from you.

“I'm not, what reason would I have?”

To not hurt his feelings? 

Again, Jeno couldn't find any suitable answer. The best possible answer he could muster is only his assumptions. He knows that's nowhere near the truth because you’ve always been so considerate, one of the qualities he’s admired about you.

He hears your steps and turns to you. He probably has been quiet for a while because you're watching him intently. He sends a challenging stare and watches you close the distance between you.

The motorbike wobbles when you lean against the space beside him. 

Jeno should say something—anything but sometimes silence is also an answer. He waits for you to say anything but you remain quiet—your form of retaliation.

This won't do.

He takes a deep breath and faces you.

"Did you fuck him at that time?"

“You said the last question was the final one.” You pointed out with a little whine, still trying to find a way to end this conversation but he’s not having it.

This is truly Jeno's last question, for his peace of mind.

“Answer me.”

You pondered playing with him a little, a small yes to get back at all the accusations he’d thrown at your way earlier. A part of you wants to know how he'll react if you lie because he already knows the answer. The nerve of him to ask you this "last" question when he’s the one who broke your no contact rule that night.

A part of your rules before breaking up is to not communicate unless it's necessary, like when your yearly meet up is near in case of emergencies. Birthdays and special occasions are optional but then out of nowhere, you received a text from Jeno after a few months.

Your mood soured as soon as you did and it remained for the rest of the night. You couldn't even enjoy the party anymore, the shots you've taken only made you overthink about everything more than usual.

Thankfully, none of your friends noticed but you still felt bad how occupied you were. Your latest fling had been all over you but you didn't end up fucking him. Heeseung understood without you having to explain which was a relief on your part. He even offered to drop you home but you declined, opting to walk instead to clear your head.

It didn't work at all. Sleep didn’t come easy that night. Neither were the following days.

“Almost. It never happened.” 

You whisper the words Jeno's been raring to hear. He doesn't know why but he likes to torture himself this way, prying you about things that annoy him.

The confirmation made him smirk.

“Sure didn’t? How about the other ones?”

His eyes drop on your bare thighs, the skirt and knee-high boots you're wearing doing just enough to not let the cold air affect you that much. You didn’t answer right away, the stubborn side of you resisting to respond but that's also because you were waiting for his next move.

Jeno senses this and rests his fingerless-gloved hand on your thigh, the leather skin of the glove making your body squirm the moment it brushes your skin.

So this is how he’ll pluck the answer from you this time.

You watch him stand up fully, his hand still on your thigh while the other lifts your face, forcing you to meet his eyes. Yours flit to the small mole below his left eye, your throat closing up in nervousness. Jeno's looking for something you already knew so you brave yourself to finally meet his intense stare.

His dark brown eyes lures you to spill the words he wanted to hear. 

“No, I haven’t.” 

There it is. This is why you avoid looking into Jeno’s pretty eyes. They always compel you to do stupid things and now you're spreading your legs willingly without him asking, causing your skirt to ride up.

“Yeah, I can tell.” He chuckles a little, his tone not giving away if he believes what you said.

Your ex boyfriend moves closer to your body, standing in between your legs until your chests are mere centimetres apart. The proximity made your heart flutter, and instead of looking at his face, your eyes shifted to his permed hair. You reach up to part them a little and the gesture startles him a bit. But he recovers immediately, leaning in for a quick kiss. He's been on a quest to distract you but it's not enough, targeting your neck next after a couple of more inviting kisses. 

Jeno doesn’t give you time to process. His lips trail your jaw up to your mouth, biting your lips down to ask for entrance. You did after through a sharp gasp that you couldn’t hold anymore. He sneaks a hand inside your leather jacket, to the bare skin below your top, to hold your waist down on his motorbike seat. Your body reacts immediately, shuddering from the warm touch of his palm against your shivering skin. His other hand starts pulling off the collar of your jacket, not fully peeling it off yet, just enough to keep you warm from the breeze.

Your ex-boyfriend is still painfully sweet, making sure you wouldn’t fall off his bike and your stupid heart flutters at that. But how can you not when his gentle hold contrasts the way he’s nipping your skin harshly, determined to leave prominent marks on your neck.  

“J-Jeno..”

“Look up.” He instructs and you do, tilting your neck to encourage him.

It wasn’t hard for Jeno to find that sweet spot of yours, pulling out that delicious sound from you that his ears missed. Having known your body for years, it’s the first thing he learned when you first dated back in your senior year of high school.

It delights him that you’re struggling to focus on the pretty sky above you, the mix of your quiet whines and gasps with your heavy breathing sounds melodious to his ears.

There are no clouds on sight so you’re trying your best, your eyes desperately hunting prominent stars to start with or familiar patterns because Jeno’s going to ask you about constellations again later. It’s a habit he developed way before you started dating, asking you randomly when the sky is clear, and it stayed even after you both called it quits. 

Right now, you’re having a hard time recognizing any of them thanks to Jeno's bolder ministrations. He's definitely doing this on purpose, making it difficult for you as punishment. You wouldn’t rule that out, knowing your ex's petty nature. But none of that matters because you didn’t even want to focus on them anymore.

Jeno will have to bear with your possible mistakes later because all you want right now is for him to touch you where you need it the most. Aside from the catch ups and wanting to see him in person, you’ve always looked forward to sleeping with him, to check if he still wants you the way you want him—that no matter how many girls he’s fucked in the last year, he still wants you.

Maybe then it’ll also convince him to believe you. That you're telling the truth.

“Jeno please,” You’ve widened your legs when his hands stayed where they are, hoping he’ll get the hint.

He already did. He'll always know what you wanted but he’s enjoying your squirming body under his touch too much. You’re never not needy when you fuck but not often like this, so he’s got to prolong it as much as he can. 

"Why are you this needy, hmm? You certainly were fucking others this week."

Jeno teases his question. His voice sounds more like goading, his hands are barely touching your bare thighs.

And you want to break down. 

You were right. He is doing this on purpose. You're starting to panic at the possibility that he might not fuck you in the end. Because of it, you almost missed another accusation he's throwing at you. To your luck, the panic helped sharpen your focus.

Your ex might have the upper hand this whole time but there’s always a way to fight back. He’s not the only one with leverage. You know each other in and out after all. 

"I'm always needy for you..." 

Jeno's hands stop immediately. Your voice is breathy, almost to a whisper and paired with the neediest eyes you could muster, he didn’t stand a chance. The way your pretty eyelashes are batting at him, there's no other way but to give in. You pulled up that "innocent" look that has always worked on him in the past.

He doesn't even care whether you’re getting back at him or not, it always will.

“Mhmm, yeah, you always are. That didn’t change at least.” He grins down at you, his gloved hand now moving from your inner thighs to your damp core. Feeling your slick made him almost forget that you technically didn't answer his question. But nevermind that, he’d make sure this year’s catch up would be memorable for you. 

Jeno’s fingertips continued tracing your clothed pussy lips that've been getting puffier the more he presses on them. He parts your panties to the side the same time his lips return to yours, swallowing the little gasp that escaped your mouth as soon as his pads meet your glistening core.

He starts in with a finger and then another, moving them right away before adding a third one. Your brows furrow when he doesn’t go all the way, stopping right before the edge of his gloves touches your pussy lips.  

“Jeno—,” you cry, mouth gaping after realizing what he’s doing. You can take his punishment but not this time. There’s no way he’ll finger you like this. Yes, he can make you cum by playing with your clit alone but you've missed those thick fingers of his. The ache to be filled with them rises in you, your eyes welling at the frustration.

“Not enough,” you whine, your hips bucking desperately to have his fingers knuckle deep.

“I can’t stain my gloves baby,” he explains, his patronizing tone almost reviving your irritation from earlier. He can’t possibly be serious can he? You're contemplating your next move, thinking of actually getting back at him but the silent threat that he won’t fuck you continues to hang in the air. 

“Not even for me?” you tried again, dismissing your initial idea, the worry overriding after that reminder. 

Weren’t you desperate enough? It’s not enough for him?

Jeno was taken aback when you pulled his neck down to kiss him feverishly. You’re bolder than before, the desperation showing through your kisses and should’ve made him glad but it's the opposite. He isn't sure what to feel about it. On one hand, he’s glad you’re like this with him. Between the two of you, he was the bolder one and with this side of you coming out, it brings his own insecurities to the surface. 

Being each other’s first, you’ve explored sex together until the day you decided to part ways. It’s inevitable; entering college fresh from breakup so you’re bound to learn more with other guys instead. Jeno would be a hypocrite if he judges you for it. He certainly tried to distract himself as his friends have advised him, the possibility that you could be doing the same thing drove him to consider it.

Jeno just didn’t think the whole thing would bother him this much. Seeing this new side of you stirs that small regret from the back of his mind.

He’s the one you should’ve learned this with.

Determination fires up in him to prove that he’s way better, that he’s still the best. Without answering your question, he pushes his fingers all the way, coaxing a sharp moan out of you. 

“Shit, you’re gonna drench my bike at this rate,” he comments, pretty surprised. His teasing only spurs you to get off his bike, allowing his fingers to reach you all the way. You didn’t waste any more time and grabbed his wrist to move it at your own pace while he’s still stunned.

“Mmmm, it’s what you prefer, right?”

You let out a giggle after, clearly enjoying how your ex is struggling to keep his face neutral at the little show you're putting up for him. He’s very much affected by you still, if his tightening grip around your waist is to be considered.

But that didn’t last.

His free hand moved up to your neck after he recovered, his large palm wrapping around your throat. You feel the ring on his index finger, the scratch from the metal pulling you to meet his eyes. His pupils are blown out making you gulp, expecting another taunt but underneath his hardened gaze, the hunger is palpable. 

“Nervous?”

“No.” 

“Prove it then. Move, babe.”

He challenges you and flicks your hand out of his wrist. You whimper at that but Jeno didn't pay you no mind. Though his eyes are full of lust, he's staring you down with a quirked brow and your pussy clenched around his fingers, pulling another smirk from his chiseled face.

You don’t know what he’s playing at but you move your hips anyway. The edges of the leather skin of the glove rubs deliciously along your pussy lips, brushing your swollen clit. Your hips roll faster to chase the friction, your whole body assisted by a hand leaning on Jeno’s bike for extra support. The other claws at his bare arm, your nails digging in his pale skin when you think he’s about to squeeze your throat.

But Jeno doesn’t. His hand is perfectly still, but still in control, rooting your upper body. The anticipation has been killing you but his stare didn’t falter. He could be teasing you again so you swivel your hips more, afraid he’ll change his mind any minute. He’s giving you the full control on your pace but whose to say he won’t punish you for it later?

It’s what Jeno loves the most—watching you like this.

Almost half dressed with your askewed top, your face flushed from his ministrations, mouth gaping at his fingers scissoring you. Your dazed eyes are pleading for him to do more, your pussy has been clamping around his fingers when he stopped moving his gloved hand.

But Jeno’s attention’s not even on that.

His eyes are on the red lines adorning his pale arm, the result of your endless scratching. Not that he’s complaining. He’s actually hooked—to the pain from your nails, to the way your body unravels under his fingers without much effort from him and how beautiful your face contorts from pleasure to shock of betrayal when he suddenly pulls them off.

"J-Jeno?” 

One second you were about to cum, the next, you were feeling empty that you almost screamed. You didn't get to react much, too confused and shocked at what your ex-boyfriend did. He didn't answer you, only stepping back from your shaking form. He’s got that wild look in his eyes as he eyes you down, the smug smile returning to his chiseled face, making your knees buckle. Your legs are wobbling, your hand clutching the leather motorseat as panic rises again in you when you realize that Jeno removed himself completely from your body. The instinct to reach for him is there but your body’s convulsing from the impending orgasm he just denied you.

And he’s out here wiping his slicked gloved fingers over his denim pants instead.

As a last resort, you peeled your jacket off and fling it over the seat, immediately reaching under your top to unhook your strapless bra hoping you’ll convince Jeno. He gives you an impassive stare and turns away, like you’re a mere nuisance that was too needy for him to take care of. You watch him in horror as he proceeds to pick up the basket with his clean hand, ready to head towards the field. 

The indifference almost made you cry but you bravely tried again.

“Wait,” you blurted out, chest heaving. “Why?”

The resentment is evident in your voice but Jeno only gives you a sly smile. He's aware how cruel he's being but there’s a sick part of him that wants to test your limits. He wanted to see if he can still break you down like before—a reminder that your body is still his. There’s nothing he hates more than labelling you as his mere ex, something his friends love to remind him whenever they find him moping about you. 

"You don't want to eat? Chenle helped me prepare these." He raises the basket in front of you, treating this like another normal conversation. You definitely don't want what he's offering even if Chenle's dear to you. Shifting his attention to the food supposedly made for you escalates the betrayal in your chest.

He’s acting like his fingers weren’t in you a few minutes ago.

If he thinks this faux concern will excuse him from his behaviour, he’s wrong. The game’s not over and he’s tested you to the brim already. All your mind can think about is how to convince him to let you cum. Undressing’s not even gonna work at this point but you still have a chance. Being bratty will only push Jeno to continue punishing you and that's the last thing you want so you let the frustration fizzle, knowing you’d have to play along if you want him to fuck you. 

Shaking your head at him, you turn to his precious bike to refocus. It's one of your favourites to be fucked on which was probably why he’s acting this way. He treats it about as equally as you and he's fully aware how much you love riding it with him.  

"Later..fuck me here first, please.."

You managed to stop Jeno from walking further, pulling him back to you. He returns but doesn't answer, just looking at you intently. You didn't waste any more time and loop your arm round his muscled one. You cling to him, pressing your whole body in desperation, letting him feel your chest.

You hear the hitch in his breath and you smile triumphantly, resting your head on his broad shoulders to nuzzle yourself on him even more.

It took Jeno a moment to realize that you’ve removed your bra, feeling your soft breasts rubbing against his arm. He looks down at your needy face, then to your chest, noticing your nipples getting perky at the friction through your thin top. He couldn't tear his gaze away from them until your other hand reached out for his belt, your hands tugging the loop which pulled another chuckle from him.

He was right. It is only a matter of time.

"You could've just told me you wanted to be fucked on my bike."

Jeno scoffs as he drops the picnic basket back to the ground. He has a knack of keeping his voice too leveled that you couldn't tell if he's mocking you or just amused unless he wants it to be. But it doesn't deter you. Instead of letting the sting from earlier linger, you give him your most seductive smile and press yourself on him more, your eyes flitting up to his lips.

"Thought you'd figure it out by now." 

The clap back slips from your mouth before you can stop it. But instead of worrying at Jeno's retaliation, you feel a little pride in you as you whisper them into his lips. You’d have to at least clap back a little at him a little and this might be your best one so far.

Plus, it doesn't take much to get into your ex's skin.

Jeno’s eyes darkened at your remark and before you know it, he spins you around, bending your body over his motorbike. You can't see him but his focus is solely on you, his hands roaming around your body while you're grappling to hold yourself and his bike steady. Your pulse quickens, the excitement coursing through your veins at the way he’s maneuvering your body. 

"You're saying I don't?"

Rage erupted in Jeno along with his insecurities at your implication. That he doesn’t know you anymore. His voice lacked that usual neutral tone, the frustration’s bleeding into him and it only excites you more. Jeno prides being patient among his friends, being the calmest when everything’s in chaos around him.

Not when it comes to you though. A few words or a gesture is enough to break his composure. 

"N-No! That's not what I meant—fuck" 

Jeno cuts you off with his palm meeting your backside, earning that loud moan from you. He flips your skirt after, exposing your damp core to the cold breeze. 

“Then what did you mean hmm? That you’re still my slut?” 

“Y-Yes! Yes I am!”

You were hoping the admission would make him touch you but to no avail. He's still not touching you, letting the silence swallow you as he contemplates what to do. Humiliation starts creeping in but you were far too desperate to give up now. You push your hips back and you swear you heard a stifled groan from him.

Another plea threatens to leave your mouth but his hands move to your clutch your waist. 

“Really?” 

His voice is low, as if he didn't hear you clearly. You badly want to turn around to see his handsome face but you don't want to risk another delayed orgasm.

“Yeah. I want it, want your cock in my slutty pussy,” you emphasize with another wiggle of your hips. That should be desperate enough for him to finally fuck you.

But Jeno's hands remained. Only when you try looking back at your ex do you feel his hold tighten. He’s prolonging this for whatever reason, not even letting you look at him. His firm grip keeps you still and you're tearing up again.

“Of course you do…” he mused and began unbuttoning his pants. He stares down at your enticing body displayed in front of him, admiring how pliant you are.

Shit. His hard cock twitches at the view.

“You let any guy have this while I’m away..” he pauses, hands spreading your cheeks to see more of your sopping pussy. You feel the blunt of his tip, tracing along your wet folds, slightly dipping in then out again. “Do I even need to fuck you?”

You wanted to cry in frustration.

“Not bare..never, please Jeno, I only do that with you. Please fuck me.”

Your admission pushes Jeno to finally enter you, the both of you emitting a loud moan, the stretch from his cock knocking out your breath. Oh how you’ve missed his cock. Despite having good fucks with other guys, no one can reach you this deep aside from him. Exploring has been good but Jeno just does it differently. He’s had years learning your body that no other guys have and won’t ever have.

“Damn, still so tight,” He groans, both hands returning on your waist. Once he reached the hilt, he stayed still. "Big—Jen..fuck" you cry and Jeno couldn't help but draw his hips back slowly until the tip of his cock almost leaves your pussy then pushes back again.

Being the good ex-boyfriend that he is, he waits until your hips begin moving. He starts off slowly at first to let you adjust, that sick part of him resurfacing watching your pussy struggle in taking him in.

Good. It’ll always be a reminder for you and your pussy that he’s the biggest you’ll ever have. 

Despite being sensitive from your ruined orgasm, you've been responding to his thrusts, your hips meeting his with every stroke. Jeno’s trying to be careful but you’re making it too hard with the way your walls are clamping around his dick. Your breathy whines only spurs him to fuck you harder, his pace gradually increasing. 

Something’s different this year. You and Jeno had fucked many times during your catch ups but tonight, he feels like he has to prove something. It’s odd but a small pride booms inside your chest. No matter how many girls he fucked since you broke up, he still cares about how he fucks you.

Jeno's always been confident. Not the flashy kind but the quiet one because he knows his skills and the efforts he puts in to developing them. He’s excellent at many things, particularly in satisfying women’s needs. It's why many of them return, begging for another chance and Jeno sometimes does, depending on what he feels at that time. But most of the time, he's too occupied to entertain them.

Then there's you.

He knows you well enough that whenever you meet, you’d still count on him, at least for a good fuck. That should be enough to appease his insecurities but that nagging thought continues to irk him; that there could be another man who can match the standards you’ve set; that soon, someone else will be able to replace him. 

The scenario made him pour out his frustrations on you—in rapid snaps of his hips. 

“Oh, so good, baby..” you moan the words with sharp gasps, snapping Jeno out of his thoughts. His thrusts almost paused, his mind reeling if heard the last word correctly. After your break up, you never once called him again with those pet names that he loves to call on you. You’d only call him his name or nickname, nothing else even if you’re fucking.

Until now. Jeno's regaining all that privilege, while you’re fucking back at him.

“Yeah? Bet you miss me fucking you like this,” he grunts, delivering another hard thrust. You nod profusely, struggling to breath with how fast he’s going at it. “Yeah, I do, fuck—miss you…ah” 

Jeno’s heart swells to know that you miss him even if he only hears it when you’re fucking. He doesn't mind any of that though but hearing it straight from your mouth is different. Don't get him wrong, he does know you miss him. Even if you don’t outright tell him, your body language is enough. The longing looks and lingering touches when he's around; the way your tone changes when talking to him unless you want to be a brat. They haunt him every time your yearly meet up is over and he misses you even more. He’s always fighting for his life to not text or call you until that slip up.

Jeno never regretted sending those texts. In fact, he was fucking happy that he slipped. That him texting you bothered you enough to the point that you flaked on your fling that night. Small things are always a big deal for Jeno when you’re involved. He couldn’t afford to be choosy when he agreed to break up with you. 

It wasn't like he really wanted it but again, it's for the best.

“You’re taking my cock well.” He muses, pounding into you more. Jeno's hands move up to cup your breasts, massaging them through your top. He's tempted to pull off your top but you're determined tonight.

Jeno’s not sure if he’ll get used to this although he should be. A part of him is glad that he’s able to bring this side out of you but another part doesn’t want any man to see you like this. The mere thought of others having this view prompts Jeno to grab your shoulder blade for him to raise your upper body, arching your spine more in the process.

The instant change knocks you out of your breath, pushing you to lock your elbows straight. Jeno reaches you deeper at this angle, his cock hitting that soft spot inside you that had you seeing stars. All the taunting he threw at you loops in your mind too, that desire to please him magnifying with each roll of your hips.

“Jeno—I’m close, nngh..” 

You tried. You really did, to not cum this quickly but you’re too sensitive and he denied it to you already. 

“Me too, babe..fuck” 

A moan of relief leaves your lips at his words but that didn’t last long. Your laboured breathing and Jeno's groans join in the series of skin slapping that echoes through the dark but neither of you care. No one passes here around this time of night anyway, more privacy for you and Jeno although it's far from it.

You've been too focused to keep everything in, your legs shaking from the intensity but then your ex sneaks his hand around to rub your pebbled clit. 

“In me, Jeno, please!” you managed to mutter when you feel him pulling out. Your ex-boyfriend pushes back in, pressing his muscled body against yours. “Fuck, fuck—okay, shit..” he rasps against the shell of your ear, punctuating each word with a thrust and the dam breaks. Your body collapses over the leather seat as your pussy milks him dry. 

Jeno follows your suit, pumping all his cum inside you like you asked, his pace eventually slowing down as you both ride your highs. He peppers your bare shoulders with open mouth kisses, his palms caressing your waist to offer some comfort. As sweaty as you both are from the intense fucking, Jeno couldn’t stay apart from you yet, enveloping you in with his whole body, careful not to put his weight on you nor on this bike.

“You did so well baby.”

He whispers against your temple, kissing your flushed skin as he gently delivers his final thrust.

“Am I forgiven?”

Shock hits Jeno in the face at your question. Your voice sounded so small that the remaining lust coursing through his body dissipates. He freezes, his attention fully on your body’s current state. He badly wants to turn you to face him but he's noticed the tight grip of your hands on the motor seat. Although you tried to hide your hiccups from crying, they still slip out and his chest tightens. 

“What? For what?”

You didn't answer.

Jeno did this to you.

He gives you time before pulling out slowly, gently squeezing your waist, hoping you'll finally face him. Fear joins the worry he already feels, scared of what he’ll find when you do. Your body turns around right away, offering him a meek smile but he wasn't convinced. He scours your face and you turn away, clearly afraid to show him what you feel but he catches your chin.

Jeno lifts your head and there he notices the tears streaking your flushed face. The urge to ask you again strikes him but you look like you’re on the verge of crying. So instead, he kisses you; hesitant but soft, he waits for you to reciprocate which you instantly did, clutching his muscled arm for support. 

Although the kiss erases Jeno’s worries, it also shows him that you need a little break. Your reluctance to answer his question cracked his heart into pieces. He doesn’t know what you mean by this, the only assurance he got was you not pushing him back when he initiated the kiss. Clearly, it's not the time to have this conversation here. You’re still recovering from the oversensitivity and he didn't wanna push you emotionally too. The talk needs to be handled with care and he wants you to be comfortable when the time comes.

When you both separate to catch your breath, you share a warm smile with your ex-boyfriend before he moves to open the underseat storage. Immediately, your chest tightened at the sight of a very familiar helmet. When your eyes landed on the intricate design circling the visor, memories flashed at once. Not just when you were wearing it but also designing it when Jeno first got his bike.

“Do you want it back?”

“I don’t have a motorbike, Jeno.”

“For decorative purposes.” 

You didn't know what to respond to that so you chose not to. The lump in your throat that you were hoping to disappear after the kiss stayed and you don't know why. You never worry when it happens because your ex-boyfriend never pushes you to answer. In both times, Jeno merely waits for you which you'll always be grateful to him for.

He takes a glance at you before pulling down the seat to close it. You lean back on it right away to rest and Jeno’s hand reaches for your thighs. He spreads them with his gloved hand and you widen your legs for him to kneel in between them. Like clockwork, you crumpled up your skirt to assist him. 

Your ex-boyfriend takes his time wiping down your pussy and inner thighs in silence. Jeno's brows furrow in focus and it reminds you of how meticulous he is with everything he does. Watching him like this flutters your heart, to see the both of you naturally swinging back to your habits with one another. 

After pulling your skirt back down, Jeno opens his palm for you to take. You grab it and give him a squeeze, a small form of reassurance that you're okay. He gives you that soft smile then proceeds to retrieve the picnic basket from the grass. You both walk hand in hand towards the area near the cliff, in silence while admiring what's around you.

Jeno lets you be once you dropped his hand the moment the skyline was visible. Your face brightens as excitement immediately fills you up, running off weakly to the fence without looking back at him. He watches you fondly although the urge to remind you to slow down bubbles up. But then, he doesn’t want to kill the fascination on your face while breathing in the view.

The plain field offers enough space that you’re surprised how no one really comes here except you and Jeno. Maybe they do when you're not around but in a way, you’re grateful because this became a special place for you and him. Jeno found this secluded area from your hiking date before you started dating. Right before the sun sets, he asked you to be officially his. Since then, it has become your favourite place to relax, returning there from time to time whenever you both feel like hiking.

It's also the reason why you both chose to catch up here after your breakup. 

The view has always taken your breath away on each visit. You can see the entire city from here, the sprawled tapestry of lights from the buildings contrasting the darkness around you. It’s only once a year that you get to experience this beauty because you refuse to come here without Jeno. It feels weird coming here alone, you’ll just miss him and will try to contact him which is against the rules.

It took you almost a minute before realizing that Jeno didn’t follow you. Usually he does and that’s how your catch up begins. The worry resurfaces until you turn around and find him laying out the contents from the basket. You head towards where he is and immediately notice the snacks you’re going to devour tonight. Watermelon slices, glazed doughnuts, a pack of jellies and gummies and some almond bites—his favourites.

Now you feel a little bad for not bringing anything. You could've brought yours to share with him too but you both never plan your meet up though. You and Jeno preferred your catch up to flow naturally to avoid stress on you both.

However, it still did. This year’s meet up does, like the first time.

The heavy tension lingers in the air and the silence has been stressing you. 

Your ex-boyfriend hasn’t talked since you joined him. He hasn’t even looked at you and the silence, once comforting to you, is starting to eat you up. Even if Jeno brought out some of your favourites too, your eyes stayed on him, waiting while your heartbeats’ gradually became faster. You want to start talking like usual but at the same time, you're afraid to break the silence. It’s peaceful right now, a perfect time for you to also recover from the intense fucking earlier.

The moon above is shining just right tonight—the ideal atmosphere to ease a conversation and yet Jeno’s fighting to maintain his composure. He’d been feeling the weight of your stares since you returned and for some reason, he couldn’t open his mouth to say anything. Thankfully, you didn’t catch him earlier as you were too enthralled with the view to notice he stayed back to watch you instead.

Jeno lets out a quiet sigh after emptying the basket. He lies on his side on the picnic mat, looking up at the sky to gather his thoughts carefully. He knows you’ve been waiting for him to say something. Perhaps he was too but he couldn’t even look at you yet.

The nerves are kicking in.

He’s fucking up again and you’re already hurt. Your last question replays in his head and right now, he can’t believe he’s begging the stars to give him some direction like how they did to humans since the beginning of time. 

You noticed. Of course you do, you always do. Your eyes have never missed any subtle changes in Jeno's body language. You wonder what’s on his mind this time. When you saw the guilt in his eyes earlier, you didn’t understand it right away, your brain still high from the rush of orgasm. When he doesn't follow you to the edge of the cliff, you remember that there are many things you need to talk about tonight.

You mimic his position, your bare legs fully on display, hoping it’ll get his back his attention. It worked. Jeno’s eyes went straight on them but to your dismay, he still hasn’t said a word.

This night can’t go on like this.

You're giving him the time but maybe he’d been waiting for you too. A talk about the constellation would surely break the tension and divert both your attention to it.

“I can’t do this anymore.”

Your body freezes at his words. You couldn’t believe you’re hearing his words right when you were gonna talk. 

“What?”

The turmoil inside you got worse, multiple emotions surging at once but mainly the shock and panic are getting you overwhelmed again. Jeno’s confession pulled one of your biggest fears. 

Losing him for good. 

Is this it? Will this be the final time you’ll ever see him? Does he not love you anymore? Is there a new girl in his life that he’s about to tell you about and this meetup's for a closure?

All those questions must've shown on your face but Jeno's too nervous to notice which is better for your part. You brace yourself for his next words when he shifts his anxious eyes back on you.

"Pretending that I'm okay with this setup when all I've ever wanted is you." 

“Oh.” 

It is a closure but not the kind you have in mind. You reacted so soon and Jeno has caught on now that he's looking at you, his eyes shifting from nervous to worry. You've been speechless for a close to a minute but you were just surprised. Between the two of you, you didn’t think he’d be the one to admit first, fully expecting him to skirt around the topic at least.

“But aren't you mad?”

"No baby. I was jealous and scared I lost you for good." He quietly admits, his voice shaking a little. This is so atypical of Jeno and you would've teased him if you weren't still overwhelmed.

"We had an agreement, remember? Plus, you literally just fucked me."

"I know but I can't help it, I'm sorry."

The slight whine in his apology should've melted you. Instead, you’re struggling with how to react. You were ready to adjust like always but why is he confessing now? You thought you’ve calmed down from the simultaneous emotions but confusion, in particular is eating you up. On one hand, you’re happy at his honesty and apology but the uncertainty is still there. Yes, he wants you but how?

“Let’s eat Jen, I'm starving.” You smile awkwardly at him when you can't find the right words to answer. Jeno looks away with a rueful smile and a nod, then hands you a tupperware of fruits to start off. It’s both annoying and endearing how attuned you and your ex boyfriend are. Confusion aside, he understood that you’re still not ready and had been patient with you.

The one trait he had that made you fall for him in the first place.

“Are they good?” He asks hesitantly, pertaining to the dumplings he made with Chenle.

“Yeah, surprisingly. Thank Lele for me.” You muse, munching another one. Jeno chuckles before taking a quick picture of you and the remaining pieces, knowing he’ll get an earful from his friend if he doesn’t document your reactions to it. 

For a while, the two of you have gone back to silence. The mood now is different, the heaviness easing up a little. It’s comfortable like this, enjoying your favourites while watching each other discreetly. The awkwardness gradually dissipated which you’re grateful for. You thought the night was already ruined and you’d have to end this catch up sooner.

What a relief that the tables have semi-turned.

A snicker escapes you while Jeno's munching a pack of gummies. You find him fixated on your legs again as he chews each gummy bear absentmindedly. With your giggly outburst, his eyes averted back to you instantly, blinking slowly that made your smile wider.  

Like he’d been caught. Cute.

You can sense his impending protest and immediately lean closer, still giggling but your attention’s fully on his lips now. He meets you halfway, pressing his sugar coated lips from the glazed doughnut he just devoured. You savour the sweetness in between kisses, biting his plump lower lip to ask for entrance, which he did with a groan. 

Jeno can not only taste the saccharine in your mouth but on your actions too. You’re holding his face, fingers tracing his sharp jaw with delicate a touch that tugs his heartstrings more than he likes to admit. In return, he tugs your body, his palm finding your waist to pull you closer. 

The emotions he’d been caging in starts to spill out and any hesitation vanishes the moment he meets your longing stare. He wants more of you and he’s frankly tired of holding himself back anymore.

"I still love you,” he whispers before diving in for another kiss. ”I don’t think it ever stopped." 

"I love you too."

You’re tearing up as you say the words. It’s been years since you’ve spoken the phrase out loud, at least to another guy. One made it close to that and if this yearly meetup you have with your ex hadn’t existed, there’s a chance that you'll say the phrase again sooner but not to Jeno. You even remembered the last time you said it, on your last date before your break up. 

Thinking about the phrase made you recoil ever since.

Jeno beams at your response. The corners of his eyes crinkle up into half-moons that have always lightened up your mood. Watching him intently, you notice the relief creeping up to the slight nervousness in his eyes. He looks like he wants to say more, and with an encouraging nod from you, he starts.

Jeno then reaches out to your thigh, finally touching the bare skin he’d been eyeing the whole night. His touch feels warm despite his hand shaking but you didn’t bother to point it out. He never does when you’re nervous around him. 

“If you're done here, I would want you to come with me.” 

He looks away after saying it, kneading the meat of your thigh while waiting for you to answer. 

So this was why he’s nervous, unsure.

"You won't mind if I say goodbye?” you test it out with a hint, see if he’ll let you. “To wrap up things here…properly." 

You watch his nose scrunch as you drop another hint but instead of confronting you with it, he nods with another firm squeeze of your thigh.

Jeno truly surprised you tonight.

"Go ahead, I'm not in the position to stop you. I have no right, not yet."

Your ex boyfriend didn’t argue like you expected. He didn't try to convince you to change your mind, to demand reasons why you couldn’t just leave with him right away. The Jeno from years ago would've vehemently opposed the idea. He would question you the details until you’re left to tell him everything but now…he truly did change for the better. 

So did you. 

“You’re really fine with it?” 

“I can wait. I was able to wait for years. This is nothing.”

He pretended to sound offended and you merely chuckled. Jeno has been waiting this whole time—like you did. Honestly, you find the whole situation funny enough.

“We’re both so stupid.” you shake your head, sighing out loud. "We wasted so much time when we still love each other." You deadpanned but Jeno shakes his head.

“You and I needed to grow separately and we’re still growing babe,” he squeezes your thigh for comfort. You raise a brow at him, that mischievous smile returning on your lips before grabbing a piece of almond bites to throw his way. He annoyingly caught it with his mouth, smirking at you as if to ask for more.

How dare he use his sharp jawline to distract you.

“Definitely more mature than before.” You chuckle and take the last piece for yourself, much to his faux disappointment. “Enough to try again?” He queries, his smirk turning into a hopeful smile. “I, too, am tired babe.”

“We’ll be better, baby. We’ll communicate better.”

“And we don’t need to rush Jen, we’ll get there, together.”

Jeno’s truly happy with your decision. His main dilemma was finally resolved. Still, he hates how the nerves linger despite the result he was hoping for. He was unsure if you’ll say yes earlier and even if you just did, the fear of fucking up again looms over him and will probably stay for a while. That's something he'll definitely work on with you.

Trusting himself more that is.

Now that you’re both a little bit older, you finally feel ready to rekindle what you had, frontal lobe developing and all. You’re clearly still in love with one another so going back and forth is no use anymore. This time around, it’s going to be better and you both promised to take things slow, not repeat your old habits that prompted your break up.

It would never happen again. He’ll never let you go unless you want to.

That’s how much Jeno loves you.

e/n: i wouldn't recommend doing this lmao pls don't for your peace 🙏🏼

[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!

[rxnyngs]

jeno nsfw audio

thinking about taping a vibrator against jenos dick and watching him make the prettiest noises while you watch him squirm and gasp… hands tied behind his back while his cock twitches to the vibrations and leaves him on the verge of tears, forcing him to cum all over himself. my cute, pathetic boy :(

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

[11:33 am]

(cw: pregnant!reader, nausea and mentions of throwing up)

Pregnancy had not been kind to you. You were tired all the time, and no amount of sleep you got was ever enough. You cramped horrendously, the sharp pains even you rousing you from your sleep or leaving a dreaded phantom throbbing feeling in the pit of your stomach. And gee, when you weren't sleeping or hunched over in pain, you were constantly peeing. Even when your water intake was low, you were constantly scurrying to the bathroom to empty your bladder.

Thankfully, you had no morning sickness. At least that's what you thought for the first five weeks you'd known about your pregnancy. Now, freshly into week 9 of 40 weeks of pregnancy, some sort or nausea had hit. You had an aversion to things, scents specifically, you'd never thought twice about before.

You'd had to throw out your body wash for being too minty, change your laundry detergent for being too sweet, and open up all the windows when you cooked eggs. Through lots of calculated breathing through your mouth and countless ginger candies, you managed. There was no other option.

Jeno had been great through it all. He went through the changes in recipes and soaps without complaint. He gave you massages when you cramped and kept your ginger candies stocked up. These were all changes that were fixed easily and you really hoped that the last few weeks of your first trimester would be smoother sailing.

You were laid out on the couch, snacking on grapes while you watched TV. Just the thought of standing up to do anything made you feel sick. In the midst of an emergency in the medical drama you were watching, the front door opened and in waltzed in the love of your life fresh from the gym.

"Hello, my love," he greeted, bending over the back of the couch to press a kiss to your temple.

You accepted it gratefully, humming lovingly before freezing. Usually, you love it when Jeno comes home from the gym. His muscles are bigger, his adrenaline was pumping, gee, if you wanted to know how you ended up in the first place...

Today, was out of the usual. Instead of enjoying his manly musk, your stomach lurched. You jumped away from him as you sat up, "oh my god. You have to get away from me."

"Huh?" He mumbles out, stepping around the couch to get a better look at you, "are you feeling alright? You didn't make eggs again, did you?"

Instead of answering, you cup one hand over your mouth with another clutches at your stomach while you race down the familiar path to the bathroom.

Your hands grip the sides of the ceramic toilet bowl until your bones hurt, but you can hardly focus on the pain as you empty out the contents of your stomach.

"Is this like afternoon sickness? Does it still count as morning?" Jeno asks, no doubt trying to keep your mind off being sick with his stupid question as he holds your hair back.

You breath heavily in the short reprieve of emptying your stomach, "don't be cute, right now!"

He rubs a hand on your back, grimacing as your retching echoes through the small bathroom, "I'm sorry, my love. I wonder what we need to change this time."

You pant, shakily reaching up to flush the toilet while resting your forehead against the cool side of the toilet bowl. "It's you," you say while slowly turning your head to glare at your husband, "you smell like a lawnmower and a wet dog from a junkyard had a baby."

Jeno's mouth opens and closes with confusion before his brows furrow as he replies, "I thought you liked how I smelled after the gym."

You catch another whiff and curl forward again with a loud gag and tears in your eyes, "your spawn doesn't!"

Jeno knows better than to let you hear him laugh, so he covers his mouth with the palm of his hand before the sound can escape. You heave into the bowl, spitting out a mouthful of saliva before fixing him with another, much colder glare, "don't talk to me again until you smell like you know basic hygiene practices."

He nods his head silently, backing out of the room quickly. The sound of your voice yelling, "wash twice and use deodorant!" just make him smile even brighter. He's so in love with you.