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leejenos · 10 months ago
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roshnis · 9 months ago
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presenting the 00 line team dance!
bonus: reactions!
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luvdsc · 5 months ago
pussy blocked.
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Y/N’s unofficial guide on how to be a heartbreaker:
1. have fun. 2. never stay the night. 3. always be the first one to leave. 4. never hook up with the same person twice. 5. don’t fall in love with boys like lee jeno.
pairing :: lee jeno x reader genre :: angst, comedy, fluff ⋮ fuckboy/girl + college au word count :: 31,360 words warnings :: y/n has a breakdown at one point, dick jokes, sexual innuendos, implied sex but it’s like a romcom movie where we skip to the morning after because i don’t write about places where the sun doesn’t shine, and of course it’s not a luvdsc fic without a whole bunch of mutual pining playlist :: break my heart (hey violet) ⋆ lowkey (niki) ⋆ pancakes (lany) ⋆ i left a party for you (pilar victoria) ⋆ blurry (jp saxe) ⋆ slow (shy martin) ⋆ we’re fucked, it’s fine (jeremy zucker) ⋆ happiness (taylor swift) ⋆ this is how you fall in love (jeremy zucker & chelsea cutler) + extended playlist here. author’s note :: this is me putting my biggest fears on blast :’) ty to ti @m88n, steph @aqiaquas, tk god @eggyukhei, and lana @choerrypuffs for being my biggest cheerleaders !!! and especially to @wincore​ thank you for listening to all my incoherent ramblings and ideas and accepting it all within an hour of us starting to talk LOL ily moon ♡
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i. the devil wears leather jackets.
“Thoughts on leather jackets?”
Yeeun hoists herself onto the scratched counter of the tiny bathroom, cheap neon strips of flashing lights pasted around the edges of the ceiling and the booming bass of the music barely muffled by the closed door. She swings her legs, the heels of her boots banging lightly against the cabinet beneath her.
“They’re cute. Why? Don’t you already have like, three of them?” Your fingers curl around the lip gloss your best friend offers to you. You thank her before you lean forward, uncapping the makeup and spreading an even, glossy coat over your lips.
“Not on me!” She taps her manicured fingers against her thigh rhythmically. “Actually, maybe on me. There’s a really good sale going on at Madewell right now. Maybe I’ll get one.”
“Another night of drunk retail therapy?” You pucker your lips, angling your face slightly to check that you had applied enough of the shimmery gloss. You quickly adjust the satin white crop top you have on that makes your boobs look phenomenal. Perfect. It’s the first party of your final year at university, and you would very much like to start it off with a bang and leave with a cute guy tonight.
“Sober me will thank me tomorrow.” She waves her hand dismissively before taking back the gloss from you and shoving it unceremoniously into her bra (because one hand holding a purse means one less hand holding a drink) before pushing herself off from her counter perch. “Anyway, you’re missing the point! What do you think of boys in leather jackets?”
You narrow your eyes at her, scrutinizing her fidgeting figure through the mirror. “Alright, spill it. Who’s this about?”
“I overheard Mark telling Yukhei that Jeno was asking about you.”
You temporarily pause in place, horror flashbacks already playing like a montage at the mention of him, before facing your friend, who’s already looking at you expectantly. “Did he say why?”
“Who knows? He started throwing up on Yukhei’s shoes, so I had to move away from the target zone.”
You wince at that. Poor Mark was always a lightweight and yet, he always accepts whatever drink Donghyuck hands him. And the latter always mixes concoctions with cheap vodka making up at least 40% of the contents.
“Isn’t this exciting though? The Lee Jeno is interested in you,” she squeals, grabbing onto your arm excitedly.
“I’ve been there. Freshman year, two minutes and beard burn. Literally, the worst experience of my life. Zero out of ten, no stars on Yelp, would swipe left on Tinder, maybe even report him to save other people from the horror.”
“Okay, some points were made, but he must’ve gotten better, right? It’s been like three years. Unless he paid all those girls to talk about his dick game.” She taps her finger against her chin, pondering thoughtfully. “You know, I feel like that’s what Jaemin does. Like he seriously can’t be that great, but I hear a different girl gush about him in every class.”
“No, I can confirm. Jaemin’s a sweetheart. He gave me a water bottle and Advil on the way out. He even made me breakfast before I left. Honestly, I would hook up with him again just for those blueberry pancakes.” You turn and twist the doorknob open. “Anyway, it’s a big house. I doubt I’ll run into hi—”
Speak of the devil and he shall appear in all his leather clad, silver necklace and rings, low dipping shirt, and black ripped skinny jeans glory.
Lee Jeno: the walking cliché of every teenage girl’s wildest dreams and every mother’s nightmare. He’s living, breathing proof that bad boys who wear the typical leather jacket and drive a sleek car with one hand on the steering wheel, but also have a hidden soft side (because you caught him smuggling a stray cat into his dorm once during sophomore year) actually exist. It’s Lee Jeno with a different girl wrapped around his finger every night or morning or even sometimes mid-afternoon; Lee Jeno with his pretty eye smile that can make anyone swoon; Lee Jeno with his classic fuckboy tendencies that you cannot understand for the life of you why so many girls, and even some boys, fall for so willingly.
Or for you, Lee Jeno: the boy who was your first and absolute worst hookup way back in freshman year. It’s more like a burning, fiery meteor crash landing than a pleasant stroll down memory lane when you think of him. He’s the reason you desperately wished you listened to Jennie when she told you to find an older, more experienced boy to have your first college hookup with, and not a fellow lowly freshman. In your defense, upperclassmen were big and scary, and Jeno—the cute boy from one of your classes who was showing you pictures of his three cats back home and profusely sweating away in his leather jacket because he wanted to look cool at his first frat party—seemed relatively harmless that night.
You were sorely mistaken. Literally. That memory still gives you PTSD. You had the stache rash, beard burn, whatever you want to call it, to prove it. To put it lightly, it felt like razor burns in the most unpleasant intimate places because a certain someone didn’t think having stubble (which he was weirdly proud of) would make a difference. It sure as hell made all the difference because those two minutes were the most miserable two minutes of your entire twenty-two years of life. Not even the seven Jell-o shots you had before that could help.
Even worse, he didn’t even make you see stars, not even a single damn measly one, but for once, you were thanking the gods for the short timing that night. He certainly made quite the impression in only 240 seconds. And to top it off, he didn’t even call you after that night.
So yeah, you aren’t really a fan of the guy. No matter how stupidly attractive he still is. Especially when he dons his stupid leather jacket. The one he let you borrow that same night after he spilled jungle juice on you. And the very same one he’s wearing right now.
“Y/N.” Jeno cocks his head to the side, the corners of his lips quirking up into an all too familiar smirk. “I was just looking for you.”
“I didn’t know we were playing hide and seek, but congrats, you found me.” You start to brush past him, motioning for Yeeun to help you make a quick getaway.
“Wait, can we talk?” His hand reaches out to circle your wrist, and you stop.
“About what?” You say flatly, shaking his arm away, and from the corner of your eye, you can see Yeeun quietly creeping away. She gives you a thumbs up and a wink as you desperately try to signal for her to come back, but to no avail.
“How’s Hyunjin?” he asks abruptly, and you raise an eyebrow at him before shrugging. “Who knows? We broke up two months ago.”
“Oh, really? My condolences.”
You narrow your eyes at him. “At least try to sound a little more sincere than that. Why are you asking anyway? What do you want, Jeno?”
“Let’s fuck.”
If you were taking a sip of one of Donghyuck’s cursed drinks right now, you would have accidentally spat it out right in his face. And then tossed the rest of it onto him on purpose.
“Wow, is this how you get all the girls into your bed? Real charming,” you say, sarcasm dripping off of every word. It’s a wonder how your panties didn’t just magically drop with such a romantic offer.
“You asked what I wanted,” He replies, trailing behind you closely as you weave through the dancing bodies and make your way to the kitchen. Lord knows you’re gonna need a drink if he insists on continuing this conversation. “So that’s one of my points. The other point might need a few minutes, depending on your answer.”
“Your dick is rated e for everyone, and I wouldn’t touch it with a ten foot pole.”
“That’s okay, you can use your mouth instead. I’m not picky.”
“Oh my god.” You nearly choke at that, and Jeno has a massive grin on his face, looking like the cat that ate the canary. You immediately proceed to give him a different type of bird, and he laughs.
“You're hot, I’m hot, we’re both single, and I know you aren’t batshit crazy, so why not?”
“How do you know I’m not crazy?”
“You never mass publicized our uh, you know…”
“The razor burn fiasco?” You stop at the drinks counter, crossing your arms over your chest, and he grimaces, throwing his hands up in defense.
“Okay, was it really that bad? I didn’t think it was.”
“Take a cheese grater and drag your dick across it, and then you can get back to me on that question. And you only lasted two minutes. You should probably report that to the Guinness world record people.”
“That was freshman year, and I’ve gotten tons of practice now.” He flippantly dismisses your previous statement and gives you a cocky smile, rolling his tongue against the inside of his cheek.
“With who? Your hand?” You scoff, grabbing an empty red cup that looks relatively clean before pouring a little vodka and some orange juice into it. You take a sip of it cautiously, wrinkling your nose at the aftertaste. Yeah, that cup wasn’t clean at all, and you’re hit with the gross taste of cheap beer.
Jeno notices and grabs the cup from you, rummaging through the fridge to pull out a couple Jell-O shots and handing them to you. He downs your discarded drink as you eye the jiggly alcohol skeptically.
“You like those, right? I remember you had a bunch of them back then.” He shrugs, and you feel oddly touched that he would actually remember your drink preference. Of course, it’s not like the options were that vast at a college party. It’s either beer, vodka, a mix of it all, or Jell-o. But still.
Oh god, you can’t believe this is what your inner monologue is saying. Are you really swooning over a guy who knows what drink you like? The bar for men has really been set too low. The bar may not be your son, but you desperately need to raise it. Plus, you definitely weren’t going to tell him the only reason you kept taking those shots on that fateful night was because you were nervous and he was cute.
“Yeah, I like them, thanks,” you mutter before swirling your finger around the edges of the disposable container and tossing the contents into your mouth. You throw the empty plastic into the nearest trash bag tied to one of the cupboard handles.
“So I heard you were looking for me,” you start as you prepare another Jell-O shot. “And I highly doubt it’s just because you want to fuck. So why?”
“Just thought it’d be fun. For old times’ sake, right?”
“Bullshit. Everyone knows you and Jaemin have that messed up body count competition going on. You do know that you have to sleep with someone new to increase that, right?” You maneuver yourself around to the other side of the counter to take a handful of chips.
“Yes, I am well aware, thank you.” His eyes follow you as he leans against the counter, fishing out from the large plastic bowl one of the individually wrapped chocolate candies Jaemin impulsively bought at the Target sale.
“What’s the real reason, Jeno?” You stare at him, cocking your head to the side. “You can’t possibly tell me it’s because I gave you the best blow job you ever had because eighteen year old me definitely wasn’t that good at it yet.”
He laughs at that, teeth flashing as his lips pull into a genuine smile for once, and you have to hide your own. God, this is why girls get hung over cute boys, isn’t it? Light travels faster than the speed of sound, and you’re getting sucked into how pretty his smile is until he opens his mouth and ruins it all.
“Fine. Real reason, honest to god. You’re the only one who got a shit experience. My track record is perfect, except for you, and it bothers me.”
“So you’re saying your ego is so massive that you can’t jack off properly unless you know you rocked every girl’s world?” You wrinkle your nose, an expression of disbelief written all over your face.
“Yeah, pretty much.”
“Oh my god, you’re such an asshole.”
“Hey, I’m an honest asshole. I’m not stringing along anyone or pretending to be interested just to get into someone’s pants. They all know it’s just a one night deal, and they’re fine with it. Or more than fine actually.” He winks at you, and you fake gag.
“You’re telling me that all those girls were satisfied?”
“Hey, babe,” he calls out to a pretty girl dancing near the doorway to the living room. She turns to face the two of you, and eyes slightly widening, you recognize her as Sei from your Sustainable Operation Management class. You always thought she was a little more on the uptight side, but apparently not. “How was your experience with me? Scale of one to ten.”
“Oh, ten,” she says immediately before turning to you. “Jeno does this amazing move with his tongue where he—”
“Okay, thank you, I will never be drunk enough to hear about your sexcapades in detail.” You take a vodka shot, hoping its effects will hit you fast soon.
“Thanks, babe.” He winks at her, and she nods, blowing him a kiss before tipsily swaying out the door again. He faces you again with a cocky expression. “Wanna hear a review from someone else with personal experience?”
“No. And ‘babe’? Really?”
“You don’t have to remember their name if you call them all the same thing,” he says nonchalantly, pouring himself another cup of beer, and you frown at him, a nasty look of disgust emerging on your face.
“If that’s supposed to make me want to sleep with you, you’re way off, babe.”
“That doesn’t work because I know you know my name, Y/N.”
Scoffing, you start your walk towards the living room in search of Yeeun. She has the car keys, and you’re ready to go back to your shared apartment and crash. Plus, the carton of Ben and Jerry’s in your freezer back home is really calling your name right about now.
Jeno follows behind you closely, and when you suddenly pause and turn to face him, you catch him off guard. He bumps into you, and the contents of his solo cup sloshes onto the front of your shirt.
“Shit, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to do that,” he panics, putting the cup down somewhere before frantically looking around for napkins or towels, literally anything to wipe it off, but comes up empty handed.
Fan-freaking-tastic. This feels exactly like how your first night with him started, but this time, you’re going to have to take your shirt off for the wrong reason.
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ii. hey send pussy pics (read at 2:32 a.m.)
The two of you end up back in square one, standing in the same cramped bathroom once more as Jeno insists on wetting some paper towels for you and helping you clean up the alcohol soaked shirt that was unpleasantly sticking against your skin.
“Didn't you pour your drink on me last time, too?” You peel off your shirt, balling it up and running it under the faucet. “You know, if you wanted me to take off my clothes, you didn’t have to go this far.”
His eyes grow wide as he splutters, “I didn’t do it on purpose! I’m sorry! I swear, it was an accident—!”
“Relax, I’m just joking.” You grin at him, feeling a little endeared at his response (Perhaps, it reminds you of freshman Jeno. You miss that cat loving dude. Too bad he’s after a different kind of cat now). He lets out an audible sigh of relief, and you laugh. “Can you hold this? I wanna wipe off the rest that’s on my skin. It’s kinda feeling gross and sticky.”
“Why does this vaguely sound like a conversation we had before?” He hands you the paper towels and grabs your shirt, beginning to scrub out the stain. You can’t stop the laughter from bubbling up in your throat again as you try to clean yourself up as best as possible.
“So do you still pick up girls by showing them pictures of Bongsik, Seol, and Nal?”
Jeno pauses, shifting to look over at you, and says softly, “You remember their names?”
“You can’t expect me to not know their names after looking at pics of them for over an hour,” you answer, huffing slightly when you see that the beer stained one of the front pockets of your jeans. You’re going to have to see if you can borrow Tzuyu’s Tide pen tomorrow and scrub it out. There’s no way you’re going to walk to the laundromat tomorrow morning and spend $2.25 in quarters just to wash a single pair of pants. Even if it’s your favorite pair that makes your butt look like a million bucks.
“How are they doing anyway? Does Bongsik still bully Nal?”
“Yes,” he snorts, holding up your soaked shirt after wringing it out. You reach for the hair dryer in the bottom cabinet and plug it in before directing the hot air towards the wet fabric. “She acts like she hates him, but my mom sent me pictures of them napping together in front of the window.”
“I remember you promised me you’d send me pics of them, but you never did,” you mention, pouting slightly. “I was really looking forward to those.”
“I mean, I was going to, but…” He trails off, shaking his head slightly. “Sorry, I guess I must’ve forgotten.”
“Yeah, like you forgot to call me the next day,” you mutter offhandedly. If Jeno had heard your remark over the loud whirring of the hair dryer, he certainly didn’t say anything about it. The two of you stand there quietly, conversation coming to an awkward standstill at that.
“I think this is the best it’s gonna get,” he says awkwardly ten minutes later after the dryer gives out a few last dying splutters. Your shirt still looks somewhat damp, but you suppose he’s right, judging by the way the blow dryer seems to be taking its last dying breath.
“Yeah, I guess so,” you sigh, staring at your shirt. Wearing a white top doesn’t seem like such a good idea anymore, seeing how your bright red bra would be completely visible underneath the fabric, almost glowing like how anything white stands out under a black light. “I think I’m just gonna head ho—”
The banging on the door cuts you off, and you and Jeno nearly jump at the sudden noise. You reach over and open the door, and Mark nearly topples over on you.
“Sorry, I just needed to take a pis—Y/N?” His eyes grow round when he sees his friend behind you. “Holy shit, were you two—?”
“No!” you shout, shaking your head vehemently until Mark’s eyes darts towards your shirt in Jeno’s hand and then to your shirtless torso. You immediately cross your arms over your chest, and Jeno takes a step forward to cover your figure.
Mark’s cheeks grow red at an alarmingly fast pace, and he stumbles back, averting his eyes to the ceiling. “Fuck, I’m so sorry! I didn’t see anything!”
“No, wait—”
The sound of Mark blindly grabbing for the door and slamming it shut interrupts you, and you’re left standing there, cheeks growing warmer by the second and mouth opening and closing like a fish.
“Oh my god, now he thinks we’re hooking up, and he’s gonna tell everyone,” you wail, wringing your hands. Jeno awkwardly hands you your shirt, and you put it on dejectedly.
“I don’t think he’ll tell anyone,” Jeno halfheartedly attempts to reassure you, but your glare shuts him down quickly. Even he knows that’s a lie.
“Mark is a blabbermouth, and he’s drunk. That’s the worst Mark combination you can possibly have.”
“We can just do it, so it’s true.”
“Can you think with your head up there, instead of the one down there for once?” You snap before rubbing your temples. “Plus, I have standards and a reputation to uphold, you know. The Iota Theta girls would kill me.”
“Hey, I’m a real catch.”
“Yeah, I’m not trying to catch the clap here.”
“For your information, I’m clean,” Jeno scowls at you, shoving his hands into his pockets, “We all know what safe sex is. This isn’t high school.”
“Thank god, having more of you running around sounds like my worst nightmare.”
Jeno starts to protest, but your phone goes off with a loud ping! in your back pocket, and you pull it out. You must have forgotten to change it to silent mode earlier. A text from Yeeun only dampens your mood even more than your shirt does because apparently, she’s gone back to some guy named Yugyeom’s place. Now, you’re all for your best friend getting some, but she seems to have forgotten that her bra holds the keys to the car amongst other things, leaving you stranded out here in the Nu Chi Theta house (Also, Yugyeom is certainly in for a surprise when the bra comes off).
“Yeeun took off with some dude, and she has the car keys,” you sigh, pulling up the car service app. “I’m gonna get an Uber and call it a night.”
Jeno grabs your hand before you can tap to accept a ride. “Wait, are you gonna Uber alone?”
“No, Casper the friendly ghost is gonna do a rideshare with me, too.” You shrug off his hand, and he groans in frustration, carding his fingers through his hair.
“No, I’m being serious. You can’t get in an Uber alone in a wet shirt at 2 in the morning. The driver could be a creep, and that just isn’t safe at all.”
He’s right, you realize, suddenly hyperaware of how exposed you are in your state of dress and how stupid you would’ve been to do that. All those years of watching Law and Order: Special Victims Unit, and you had learned absolutely nothing. Olivia Benson would be shaking her head at you right now. You can already hear the funky mystery music theme song playing.
“Okay, then what do you want me to do? Walk home? My other friends are all probably wasted by now.”
“I’ll drive you back.”
“What? No, I can’t let you do that.” You shake your head stubbornly. “I’ll just go and see if I can find Chaeyoung or Yeji and we can walk back together.”
“Pretty sure I saw them both go upstairs with some of my frat bros like thirty minutes ago.” You stay silent at that, and he sighs, exasperated. “Can you just accept my help? Either you can get in my car and I’ll drive you back or you can walk and I’ll look like a creep slowly driving next to you the entire time, but I’m not letting you go back alone because I don’t want to see your face on the 9 o’clock news. I bet you’re gonna come back from the grave and cockblock me for the rest of my life.”
“First off, don’t be so full of yourself. I wouldn’t spend my time watching you bore another girl to death. I’m not into that. Secondly, If I show up on the news, make sure they pick a good picture of me. Preferably one of the cute pics on my insta from Capri,” you inform him, and he makes a noise of disbelief before a hint of a smile breaks through.
“You're unbelievable, you know that? C’mon, I’m driving you back. ” He shakes his head, pulling his car keys from his pocket. You start to open your mouth, and he beats you to it. “And yes, I only had that one drink you made earlier, so it’s safe.”
You close your mouth, slumping your shoulders as you follow behind him. He glances over his shoulder, throwing out casually, “Anyway, I think they should use the picture of you in that French art museum.”
“You mean the Louvre? Wait, have you been stalking me on insta?”
“I mean we follow each other, but sure.” He pushes his way through the crowded living room, and you stick closely behind him, trying to not get jostled too much by the drunken horde of other college students attempting to forget about their C’s on midterms and get laid tonight instead.
“That pic is from two years ago, and you only started following me a couple months ago!”
“Wow, now look at who’s keeping track.”
You let out a huff at that, but have no other response, pursing your lips slightly. When you finally reach the front door and step outside, the breeze that blows by sends shivers up your spine, the freezing weather being exponentially worse with the state of your shirt amping up the coldness. You wrap your arms around yourself, goosebumps forming on your skin as you try to create warmth from friction, rubbing your hands on your arms to no avail.
Suddenly, the welcomed feeling of warmth spreads across you like wildfire, and your eyes widen when you realize that Jeno had wordlessly draped his jacket over your figure before continuing the trek to his car. Hurrying after him, you shove your hands through the sleeves, your fingertips barely peeking out from the ends of it. The jacket envelops you warmly, and you tug the front of it closed to keep your body heat in. Faint traces of Jeno’s cologne clings to it, and you find yourself not minding it at all, pleasantly surprised by the woodsy, but slight citrusy, musky scent.
“Thanks,” you mumble when Jeno pulls open the passenger door for you, and you get in, making yourself comfortable, silently impressed by the neat and clean interior. There’s a cute polaroid of his three cats tucked in the driver’s sun visor. He shuts the door and makes his way to the driver’s side, sliding into the seat and starting the car up. You enter your address into Google maps, waiting for it to finish calculating the route.
The drive is quiet, save for the mellow music Jeno plays on his phone through the aux cord. The lack of conversation is such a stark contrast to before, but you don’t know exactly what to say. You glance over at him, studying his features clad in the passing streetlights.
Jeno is, without a doubt, handsome with his bright eyes framed by the longest lashes that you really wished you had yourself (it’s so unfair how boys always seem to have the prettiest eyelashes), pretty smile that causes those very same eyes to form moon crescents, and obviously, killer body. But most of all, the confidence he practically exudes is a stark contrast to when you had met him all those years ago.
“Enjoying the view?” he says casually, and you roll your eyes, turning your gaze to the road in front of you as he laughs.
“I’m just trying to figure out how you managed to get all those girls in bed.” You fiddle with the zipper of his jacket absentmindedly, and he glanced over at you.
“I asked them nicely.”
You snort. “Oh, really? And it worked?”
“I think my record speaks for itself.”
You sneer at that, but say no more. He taps his fingers against his thigh, while his other hand firmly holds onto the steering wheel. You briefly wonder why that move is found to be universally attractive, especially if the guy puts his hand on your thigh. Maybe all girls’ brains were hardwired to think that way.
Your phone announces that you have arrived at your destination, and you unbuckle your seatbelt, getting out of the car and turning to say thanks, before hesitating to close the car door when you realize Jeno’s leather jacket is still draped around your figure. Your hand hovers over the door handle before you pull back and start to take off the outerwear.
“Keep it,” Jeno says, noticing your dilemma. “Wouldn’t want you catching hypothermia. You can just give it back to me some other time.”
“The apartment building’s door is right there. I’m not gonna catch a cold after being out here for ten seconds,” you reason, starting to slide off one sleeve.
“Yeah, but this gives me an excuse to see you again.”
You freeze, face warming up at the unexpected answer. Your mind nearly short circuits, and you are at a loss of words for the first time tonight, mouth popping open in surprise. Jeno looks rather satisfied at your reaction, and he reaches over to shut the passenger door and then rolls down the window with a grin.
“So I’ll see you tomorrow with my jacket, yeah? I’ll text you my address.”
“W-wait, do you even have my number?” you manage to stammer out at last, and his smile widens even more.
“You gave it to me already, didn’t you?” Your eyes widen slightly, and he laughs, “You should go inside now. It’s cold.”
Speechless, all you can do is numbly wave at him before running towards the apartment complex’s entrance. When you make it inside the building, you turn to see Jeno still waiting out there. He waves at you before driving away. Cheeks growing warm, you turn away and make your way to your apartment.
Later, before you finally go to bed, you notice the barrage of notifications you received, specifically three texts from an unknown number.
[ 4:23 a.m. ] xxx-423-2508: 727 Maisie Street, Apartment #22
[ 4:24 a.m. ] xxx-423-2508: {image.jpeg}
[ 4:24 a.m. ] xxx-423-2508: bongsik, seol, and nal say good night :)
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iii. return of the pancakes™
After your 8 a.m. Linux Analysis and Design class, you drop by Jeno’s apartment, the borrowed leather jacket folded over your arm. You vaguely remember coming here during your sophomore year spring semester at the end of the whole Greek row carnival fundraiser week, but for a different boy entirely.
You knock on the door, shifting from one foot to the other as you wait for someone to answer. It finally opens, and Jaemin is looking at you with a wide grin on his face (honestly, it’s a little unsettling how perfect his smile is).
“Hello, Y/N, fancy seeing you here,” he greets you, leaning the door frame, spatula in hand and a flowery “Kiss The Cook” apron tied around his waist (it was a joke gift from Jisung, who doesn’t find it so funny anymore after Jaemin keeps demanding kisses every time he wears it within his vicinity).
“Uh, hi, Jaemin, I just wanted to return Jeno’s jacket.” You lift up your hand to show off the outerwear as if to emphasize your point. “I’ll just… leave this here with you, and can you give it back to him?”
“Woah, woah, what’s the rush? You should come in and give it to him yourself.” Jaemin wriggles his eyebrows at you, and you’re a little taken aback. How does this dude have this much energy to flirt or do whatever the hell he’s doing at 9:45 in the morning? You’re not even fully awake until after lunch and your daily gym session with Soyeon later.
“Uh, you know what, it might be easier if I just drop it off and leave.” You try to hand it off and back away all at the same time.
“I’m making pancakes,” Jaemin says suddenly before gesturing towards the kitchen. “Do you want some?”
“Ah, no, I really should… God damn it, yeah, I really do want some,” you answer, defeated, as you trudge into their apartment, following Jaemin inside. You raise an eyebrow when you see Jaemin essentially twirl his way back into the kitchen area.
“Great! So do you want chocolate chips, blueberries, or plain?” He asks, turning up his kilowatt smile to an even brighter notch. He putters around the stove, flipping the current pancake smoothly and onto the plate. If you weren’t so sleep deprived, that move might have made you a little turned on. Guys who cook are honestly so attractive. No, wait, correction: guys who cook well are hot (Sorry, Mark).
“Chocolate chip, please.” You sit at their tiny kitchen table, crossing your legs and resting your chin on the palm of your hand. “So where's the girl?”
Jaemin chuckles, eyes sparkling, as he pours some batter into the pan and tosses on some chocolate chips. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Please, we all know you make pancakes in the morning after a one night stand. I even have firsthand experience.”
“I make them whenever a girl’s here in the morning. And there’s one here right now.” He winks at you, placing a perfect chocolate chip pancake in front of you. “Maple syrup is on the counter, and butter and whipped cream are in the fridge.”
You grab all the toppings from their respective places and bring them back to the table. “Did Jeno tell you I was stopping by?”
“Of course he did,” Jaemin snorts, rotating the pan to evenly spread out the batter. “Jeno tells me everything.”
You spread the butter evenly across the pancake before drizzling on some syrup. Cutting up a piece, you spear it with your fork and almost moan out loud when you take the first bite. “So is this about—holy crap, this is so good—the body count thing? I tried to explain to him that he can’t count it twice if he fucks the same person again.”
“What? No, this isn’t about—Okay, let’s just say this. Jeno is an emotionally constipated asshole, but he’s still a good asshole.” Jaemin slides the spatula under the pancake, flipping it over neatly before shaking the pan lightly.
“A good asshole, wha—Wait, what does this have to do with anything?” You furrow your eyebrows, confused, as you take another bite of the pancake. “What are you even talking about?”
“He’s…” He sighs, leaning the spatula against an empty plate before he runs his hand through his hair frustratedly. “At this point, he only knows how to speak fratboy, so it’s confusing and he’s a little dumb sometimes, but he actually l—”
“Who the hell are you talking t—Oh. Y/N. Hi.” Jeno emerges from his room, eyes widening when he realizes you’re sitting at the kitchen table, happily eating the second pancake Jaemin just made for you.
“Hey.” You wave at him before motioning towards the jacket you draped over the couch. “I brought your jacket back. And then Jaemin lured me in with his pancakes—-and before you say it, I’m not talking about his ass.”
Jeno snorts loudly as Jaemin lets out a noise of offense, previous conversation now forgotten. “You come into my home where I’m making you free pancakes, and you have the audacity to insult my ass. My ass is beautiful and shapely and perfect.”
“Yeah, okay, Jaemin. If I ever need a flat surface to write on, I’ll be sure to call you.” You munch on the rest of your pancake, ignoring the sounds of indignation coming from the aforementioned boy. “Anyway, nice boxers, Jeno.”
The feline patterned boxers with the words “PUSSY MAGNET” painted right across the crotch area has you struggling to keep a straight face, and Jeno suddenly feels very exposed, even though everyone in the room has already seen him naked before. He throws his hands up to cover his bare chest and then his lower region, struggling and wishing that he slept with a shirt and sweatpants on for once.
Cheeks quickly turning a brilliant shade of red, Jeno silently curses Renjun for buying these boxers for him during last year’s Secret Santa exchange as a joke. It’s not his fault he was down to his last pair of clean underwear, and this was all that’s left. At least he didn’t decide to sleep in his birthday suit as usual. Actually, now that he thinks about it, that might’ve been the better option.
“I’m gonna… go put on some clothes,” he mutters, quickly retreating back into his room, and you stifle a laugh before focusing your attention back to the chocolate-y goodness in front of you. Na Jaemin truly is a god in the kitchen (and the bedroom, but you would never admit that out loud to his smug, handsome face).
Jaemin’s eyes dart between you and his best friend, the gears quickly turning in his head. It suddenly makes sense why Jeno asked him to make pancakes this morning.
“Y/N,” Jaemin calls out, and you look up at him, tilting your head to the side slightly. He hesitates for a moment. “Just… don’t be too mean to him please.”
Your eyebrows bunch together in confusion. “What are you talking about?”
“Nevermind, it’s nothing.” He shakes his head, pouring out some more batter and sprinkling on the chocolate chips. “Another pancake?”
He slides another one onto your plate, and your eyes shine at the sight of it. You excitedly add a pat of butter before pouring the syrup and piling on a ton of whipped cream. Wriggling in your seat excitedly, you slice off a bite sized piece. You smile happily at him, and he falters slightly.
“Thank you, Jaemin.”
Seeing the way your eyes light up, Jaemin understands why Jeno likes you so much and is willing to set himself up for heartbreak for a second time with you.
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iv. studying is an abbreviation for ‘student dying’.
“So how’s it going with Jeno?”
You freeze in your seat, stopping midway in calculating the present and future values of stocks. You should’ve known that when Yeeun calls for an emergency study session and books a private room in the library, it would turn into an interrogation time. She even buttered you up beforehand by buying you a passion fruit iced tea lemonade with sweetener and a freshly baked bear claw from the cafe on the first floor. Your best friend in question looks expectantly at you for your answer, while Giselle looks equally as shocked as you.
“You’re dating Jeno?” Your other friend asks incredulously, “Why didn’t you tell me?! Juyeon asked me if you were single, and I said yes.”
“We’re not dating! Yeeun is making a big deal out of nothing,” you protest, resuming your studies as you jot down the final answer in your notebook.
“She’s up at 3 a.m. texting him,” Yeeun spills, looking directly at Giselle and ignoring the indignant look you throw her way. “And she hasn’t booty called Moonbin in the past three weeks.”
“No.” Giselle’s eyes grow round, and she immediately turns to you, abandoning her assignment entirely at this point. “Didn’t you say Moonbin was the best? He’s a dancer, he’s literally so flexible, and I bet he can literally hold you up the entire time, like have you seen his arms? Like oh my god, he’s so hot.”
Yeeun is nodding furiously in agreement, and you fidget in your seat, biting your bottom lip. “I just haven’t had time, and Jeno just texts me cat pictures. It’s no big deal. I’ve been so busy with all the senior projects in all my classes. I have one due soon, and we have to dissect Boeing’s management plans and write up some proposals, but Minho still hasn’t done his part, and the rest of the group are freaking out about it.”
“That’s why you need a little destressing session,” Giselle chimes in before leaning forward and saying in a quieter, teasing voice, “I heard Minho’s a really fun one, too. Maybe you can ask him to come over and work on the project.”
“God, no, I wish, but Hyunjin’s in the same frat and super close with him,” you groan, thinking back to your ex. “Not that I care too much about it, but it just gets way too messy if you sleep with your ex’s friends, y’know? But I can hook up either one of you with him if you want.”
“I can’t. I’m kinda seeing someone,” Yeeun confesses, and you and Giselle immediately whip your heads towards your friend, eyes nearly popping out of their sockets.
“What? Who? Spill,” you demand, and Giselle nods vigorously in agreement. Yeeun turns pinker, a shy smile appearing on her face as she fiddles with her pen. “Yugyeom and I have been texting more, and we’re planning on getting dinner together later.”
“No way, the dude from the Theta party? You’re still talking to him?”
“I know, I know.” She waves her hand at you. “I thought the same, too, but we actually ended up talking afterwards, and it was nice, so we exchanged numbers, and well, we’re going on an actual dinner date.”
“God, does this mean I’m the only one who’s single now?” Giselle whines, frowning as she turns her attention back to her homework and writes down the next problem a little too hard with her pencil.
“Hey, I’m not dating anyone either,” you say, but the two girls give you a deadpanned look. “I’m not! Jeno and I are just friends. And you already know Hyunjin and I broke up before summer break.”
You also slept with him again a week before the school year started, but that doesn’t count. Hey, you managed to score his old flatscreen for the apartment, and he even helped you carry it up and install it, so Yeeun definitely can’t judge you too hard for it because she’s the one who binges the most dramas out of the two of you (She still occasionally likes to remind you of how you basically fucked him for a tv though). Granted, he might have given it to you under the impression that you would continue to go out with him, but it’s not your fault his mind jumped to those conclusions.
“Right. Friends who slept together before and still have the hots for each other. And go over to each other’s apartment at seven in the morning. You never willingly wake up early for anything.” Yeeun raises an eyebrow at you.
“Okay, first off, I only go over early when Jeno texts me that Jaemin has a girl over because that means he makes pancakes the next morning. Those pancakes are amazing. And secondly, Jaemin has girls over almost every night.” You inform her, crossing your arms over your chest.
“Okay, I can also vouch for the pancakes being good, but they aren’t worth losing an extra hour of sleep everyday. Maybe once a week at most,” Giselle counters, and you scowl at her. She’s really throwing you under the bus here. You’ll remember this the next time she needs your help getting out of a Yeeun-terrogation.
“Weren’t you going out with Chan though?” Yeeun directs her question to Giselle, who scrunches her nose in distaste.
“Don’t remind me, that was a complete disaster.” She rolls her eyes, flicking through her notebook. “He had a complete meltdown in Whole Foods after he told me he loved me two months into our relationship and I wouldn’t say it back. A literal grown man throwing a tantrum in the produce section— it was so embarrassing.”
“Oh my god, he did that? What did you do?” You and Yeeun are absolutely horrified, and you barely manage to get the question out.
“I left as fast as possible. Thank god I was the one who drove us there,” she sighs, shaking her head before slumping back in her seat. “You know what’s worse? I should’ve seen the red flag when he wanted me to call him ‘Dino’ in bed. Like not to judge, but I’m not about to fuck a dude who’s into prehistoric animal play or whatever.”
“God, that’s so terrible, I’m so sorry,” you say at last when you finally get over the shock of this entire train wreck, and Yeeun nods sympathetically. “I can hook you up with some good guys or girls if you want.”
“Mm, I’m not up for anything serious, but just a fun dude for a few times would be nice,” she hums, finishing up another calculus problem and jotting down the next equation. “I’m torn between doing a tinder marathon or calling up Changbin.”
“Wasn’t he the dude who brought you flowers after you hooked up with him in the dorm bathroom?”
“And the common area couch,” she admits guiltily, and your head shoots up so fast at the confession.
“That was you?”
During your freshman year, the RA called an emergency floor meeting because security cameras caught a couple going at it in the common room, specifically on the couch. Luckily for the couple, the university is too cheap to install good cameras, so their faces weren’t caught. Unluckily for the rest of the floor, you all had to shell out forty bucks to pay for a new couch and sterilization of everything else in the room.
“Guilty as charged. He left his Gucci slides in my dorm, and I still have them. Best hookup ever. I didn’t even have to do the walk of shame.” Your friend turns to you, tapping her nails against the table absentmindedly. “Are you going to the Beta Tau Sig party tonight? I think I’ll try to find someone there instead.”
“Actually, Jeno invited me to a beach bonfire, and I said I’d go.”
“So you both have dates tonight,” Giselle sighs, tapping her fingers against the table surface absentmindedly. “I guess I’ll have to drag Karina out with me this time.”
“It’s not a date,” you protest, and Yeeun gives you a look, observing you for a second before a sly smile forms on her face. “So you wouldn’t mind Giselle giving your number to Juyeon?”
“Sure, go for it,” you shrug, picking up your pencil to continue with your assignment. Your phone buzzes. You can see it’s a text from Jeno, and you want to open it, but you don’t. “You know I don’t do relationships, but I’m down for a few drinks or whatever.”
“Really? You sure?” Yeeun prods, and you give her an exasperated look. “Yes! It’s fine.”
“Okay, sent.” Giselle pipes up, waving her phone around for emphasis. Yeeun looks at you, an indescribable look on her face. “Great.”
“Great,” you echo her sentiment before the sudden realization of what you just did finally hits you like a bag of bricks. Great. For some reason, you briefly ponder over what Jeno would think, but then you shake that away and try to refocus on calculating stock dividends and EPS.
Earnings per share.
When you finally open up his text message and see it’s a picture of him and Yangyang’s cats, you wonder how many cat pictures it took for Jeno to earn a share of your affections. You lost count sometime after you created a specific album for them on your phone.
Or maybe you just didn’t want to acknowledge how fast he was growing on you, like the exponential curve on an economic business cycle. Except that once it hits its peak, it will inevitably lead to a recession, or worse, a depression.
Hurriedly, you push that thought away into the farthest crevice of your mind, sending back a slew of heart and cat emojis back before turning your phone face down and returning to your assignment.
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v. liar, liar, pants on [bon]fire.
Jeno didn’t tell you that it was a small and private gathering, so when you get out of his car, you were shocked to see that the only other girls there are Mark and Donghyuck’s girlfriends and Renjun’s friend (Although, anyone with eyes can tell that he has an obvious crush on her). The nervous feeling in the pit of your stomach continues to grow throughout the night as you sit on the large towel he brought, mere inches separating the two of you.
His oversized hoodie is draped over your figure, the sleeves almost reaching your fingertips and hem reaching midthigh. You hadn’t thought it’d be this cool out, especially with the bonfire and it still being early September, so you didn’t bring a jacket, but luckily for you, Jeno had worn the hooded sweater underneath his jean jacket. This feels like something a boyfriend would do, you silently muse before shoving that thought away. You’re clearly overthinking it.
Jaemin continues to wriggle his eyebrows at you from the other side of the bonfire whenever he catches your eye, whereas Renjun had given you a surprised look when you arrived and spares you the occasional glance here and there. You haven’t really spoken to him ever since your freshman art class, but have seen him around here and there.
You suspect the sudden cold shoulder back then has something to do with the fact that you hooked up with Jeno, but you were never really sure why. Maybe the dude just had a stick up his ass regarding one night stands, which would be kind of semi-hypocritical by association since his best friends are notorious for them.
“I think we left the s’mores stuff in the car,” Jaemin speaks up, rummaging through the bags of food and alcohol you all had piled up haphazardly in one area. “Can somebody help me get them?”
“I’ll do it,” you hastily volunteer, unable to cope with sitting here next to the cause of your worries and runaway thoughts. You quickly get up, failing to notice the way Jeno’s shoulders droop slightly when you move away.
“Hey, how’ve you been? I haven’t been able to talk to you tonight yet,” Jaemin greets you when you reach him. You quickly brush off any sand clinging to your legs and pull down the hem of your borrowed hoodie.
“Good! I’ve been good, just a little stressed with upcoming midterms,” you sigh, shoving your hands into the front pockets of the sweater as you and Jaemin walk side by side. “What about you?”
“O. Chem is kicking my ass,” he groans, kicking up some of the sand. “I’m honestly reconsidering my whole future career because of this stupid class. Maybe I’ll drop out and become the next Zuckerberg.”
“What, are you going to invent the newest Tinder? Match people based on their kinks?” you tease, and he snorts, lightly elbowing you. “That would make my life so much easier. We should include a filter for pancake haters, too. This morning, the girl called my pancakes dry.”
You gasp, looking positively scandalized. “She did not. That’s basically blasphemy. Literally sacrilegious.”
“Exactly!” Jaemin waves his hands around in emphasis. “Like bitch, please, I separate and beat my egg whites by itself and add extra butter to make my pancakes extra fluffy. I almost made Jeno use his muscles and throw her out.”
You let out a guffaw, peals of laughter escaping from your mouth, and Jaemin grins at you, stopping by the car and unlocking the trunk. “Well, I’m glad to know you agree with me. At least someone appreciates my cooking.”
“Dude, no joke, I would sleep with you again for the pancakes,” you say casually, grabbing one of the bags filled with the s’mores ingredients, and Jaemin almost chokes on his own spit before laughing loudly.
“Oh my god, you’re selling yourself for pancakes now?”
“I take cash, Venmo, PayPal, or pancakes.” You wink at him, and he laughs even harder, slinging one of the remaining two bags over his shoulder and wrapping the handles of the other one around his fingers.
“Don’t worry, you can have the pancakes for free,” he chuckles, the two of you now walking back to the bonfire.
You gasp for a second time in faux offense. “Are you saying you don’t want any of this again?” You exaggeratedly gesture to yourself.
“And are you saying you want some of this again?” Jaemin points to himself with a good natured smirk. The two of you are nearing your group of friends now, their conversations and the crackling flames growing louder. “Didn’t you call my butt pancake flat?”
“I love pancakes though,” you quip, giving him a second wink, and he splutters for a few seconds as you laugh, finally separating from him and walking back to your original spot around the bonfire. Jeno reaches out to take the bag from you, and you hand it over before sitting down next to him as he pulls out the ingredients.
“Here you go.”
Jeno hands you a couple sticks and the opened bag of marshmallows. You take it from him with a quiet “thanks”, spearing the fluffy, sugary concoctions onto two sticks before handing one to Jeno and passing the remaining items to Lana on your left. She and you had bonded earlier over your mutual dislike of your shared elective class aptly titled Shakespearean Comedies. It should've been named Shakespearean Tragedies with the way your grade on the last midterm looks. Absolutely tragic. You’re hoping the professor takes pity on the class and assigns a generous curve.
“Hyuck, there’s no way you’re gonna eat ten s’mores,” Lana chides, holding the marshmallow bag out of her boyfriend’s reach. “Why do you wanna roast that many at the same time anyway?”
“So Renjun doesn’t have any to roast.” Donghyuck beams at her, snatching the bag from her grasp. The mentioned boy frowns at him, pulling out a second unopened bag. “Jokes on you, asshole, there’s a second bag. I hope your teeth rots from all that sugar.”
“Thank you, Renjun, that’s very kind of you.” Donghyuck gives him a sickly sweet smile as he shoves the remaining marshmallows onto the twig. “At least I won’t die alone.”
“You probably shouldn’t say that when he has a pointy metal stick in his hand,” Lana remarks, shaking her head when she finally notices her boyfriend has emptied the entire bag.
Curling his fingers into fists, Renjun turns to Lana with a deadpan expression. “Please. I will give you fifty dollars if you break up with him. I’ll even throw in a free pack of bubble test sheets.”
“You know, someday I might just do it for free,” she says offhandedly, and Donghyuck almost drops his marshmallow loaded stick when he hears that. Immediately, he grabs her hand, interlacing their fingers tightly and letting out a fake laugh. “Ha ha ha, that’s so funny. What a great joke, ha ha, please laugh, too, so I know you’re kidding.”
Lana lets go of his hand to pat his cheek consolingly, but says nothing else as she focuses on roasting her marshmallow. Donghyuck continues to blubber out other pleas, and Renjun sits back, completely satisfied with the scene unfolding in front of him. His friend merely laughs, shaking her head, and you bet she’s probably used to seeing antics like this on a daily basis. Jaemin mimes cracking a whip as Jisung and Chenle laugh until one of their marshmallows drips into the fire and falls off. Judging by the loud cries, it’s probably Chenle’s that was unknowingly sacrificed to the flames. You smile as you watch the younger boys’ antics, laughing along with the rest of the group.
Meanwhile, Mark and his girlfriend remain blissfully unbothered, cuddling under a blanket and toasting their own marshmallows on a shared stick. You wonder if your future holds something like that. It must be nice to have someone by your side, someone to share with, someone to do dumb couple things with, someone to love.
You spare a quick glance at Jeno, who seems to be incredibly focused on roasting his marshmallow. He continues to stare at the toasting sweet with a serious look of concentration on his face, tongue poking out slightly and eyebrows furrowed. Cute. Your lips upturn slightly as you take another peek at the boy next to you.
Unexpectedly, the vibrations from your phone in your back pocket breaks your train of thought, and you pull it out, tapping on the screen to see the newest notification.
[ 9:09 p.m. ] xxx-115-0612: hey this is juyeon! giselle gave me your number, and i was wondering if you wanted to go out for drinks sometime?
“Your marshmallow is on fire,” Jeno remarks casually, and your head shoots up, eyes widening when they settle on the ball of fire at the end of your stick.
Dropping your phone, you quickly bring it closer to you and attempt to blow it out. There goes your dessert, literally going up in flames right in front of your eyes. When it finally extinguishes, you’re left with a sad, charred gooey mess. Wonderful. It’s the perfect representation of your life.
“Must’ve been something important since it made you commit s’more murder,” Jeno comments, and you sigh, shaking your head as you pick up your phone and shove it back into your pocket.
“No, it’s nothing. Giselle gave my number to Juyeon, and he just texted me.”
“Oh. I didn’t know you were into dudes like that,” he mutters, and you throw him a curious look before prodding.
“Like what?”
“Y’know… just… pretty boys, I guess,” he flounders, flustered and trying to think of any explanation. You snicker at that, giving him an amused glance. “One: have you seen Hyunjin? Two: are you saying you aren’t a pretty boy?”
“Oh, am I your type?” Jeno puffs up his chest and bats his eyelashes at you, and you chuckle, giving him a half smile. “I slept with you once, didn’t I? Himbos are my type, I guess.”
“Hey, I take offense to that. I agree with the hot part, but I have a sexy brain, too. I’m the whole package. I’ll have you know I accepted a job offer from Microsoft already,” he scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Yeah? Did they take a look at your dick and realize you were the perfect fit?”
Donghyuck chokes on his s’more before letting out a loud cackle after Lana pats his back, sending you an amused grin. Renjun and Jaemin are howling with laughter, and the latter sends you another wink. The rest of the group only laughs even harder when Jeno is unable to offer you a coherent response, besides giving you the stink eye. You shrug, giving him an innocent smile instead before finally taking a good look at the damage done to your marshmallow.
Jeno notices you gazing forlornly at your destroyed snack and wordlessly switches it with his, handing you his stick with a perfectly roasted marshmallow at the end of it. Seeing you look like a kicked puppy makes him want to punch whoever decided to commit violence against the hypothetical dog. Even if it means giving up the marshmallow that he just roasted to absolute perfection. He didn’t go through twelve years of Boy Scouts for nothing. Making campfires and the best s’mores were two of his best earned badges.
“Wait, you don’t have to eat that,” you protest, unsuccessfully trying to take yours back, but he shakes his head, holding it out of your reach as he quickly assembles his s’more. “Nah, I like them like this anyway. Just eat that one.”
“I—” You helplessly watch as he takes a bite of the burnt atrocity. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“I like it. You should eat that one when it’s still warm.” Jeno motions towards the stick still in your grasp, eyes gleaming. “Or do you want me to make you the s’more too? I can even feed it to you.”
Your cheeks heat up as you hastily make your own dessert, mumbling, “No, I got it, thanks.”
When you finish, you break it in half, handing one side to Jeno and taking the rest of the charred dessert left amidst his objections. “You’re a terrible liar. Nobody likes eating burnt stuff. And don’t lie, I saw you spit it out behind you when I was making mine.”
For good measure, you taste the remainder of the burnt mess, spitting it out immediately and tossing the rest into the bonfire. You turn towards him, scolding, “Yeah, this is horrible. Why’d you even give me yours, dumbass? You shouldn’t have eaten that.”
“You just looked really sad,” he mumbles, refusing to make eye contact as his cheeks turn rosy. He busies himself by taking a bite of the s'mores half you gave him, and your face grows warm at his confession. Your stomach does a weird flip flop, and you chalk it up to those questionable hot dogs Mark had brought earlier. You know you should never trust his cooking, but the hot dogs are pre-made and all you had to do was roast them over the fire.
“Oh.” You don’t know what else to say, awkwardly thanking him, and stammer out, “W-well, I can make another one and we can split that to make it even.”
Jeno gives you a mischievous smile. “But what if you burn it again?”
“It was a one time thing! I was just distracted,” you defend yourself weakly, and he laughs, eyes curving into pretty moon crescents once more, and you silently chide yourself when you catch yourself fawning over them. Like Megara says, “My head is screaming ‘Get a grip, girl.’” But she was basically in love with a Greek God, so she deserves to get a pass for eventually ending up with him (Although, you suppose you could make the argument that Jeno has the body of a Greek God, or maybe he’s like a modern day Adonis, but you digress).
“I’ll do it,” he decides, grabbing another marshmallow, and you make a face at him. “Are you saying I suck at making s’mores?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”
You frown at him, crossing your arms over your chest with a pout. “You know, just a thought, but if you’re trying to hook up with someone, you shouldn’t insult their s’mores making skills.”
“But wouldn’t you hook up with someone who’s good at cooking, so you don’t have to cook?”
“Oh my god, are you setting me up with Jaemin now?” You let out a fake gasp, and the boy in question gives you a mock salute from his seat. Jeno glares at you, extremely offended, as he pulls the marshmallow off of the heat. “You know, I don’t think I’m gonna share this with someone who doesn’t appreciate my cooking.”
“You can have one of mine instead, Y/N. I have eight extra,” Donghyuck offers, and you hold back a laugh when you see the immediate sulky expression painted all over Jeno’s face.
“No, take this one.” Jeno shoves the newly made gooey sweet in your hand and snatches the one from Donghyuck. You can’t help but smile at his childish antics, pretending to examine the one he had handed to you.
“What’s the difference between them?”
“Hyuck’s was made with spite.” He winks at you exaggeratedly, and you playfully roll your eyes before taking a bite of it. “Mine was made with love.”
You almost choke, nearly hacking up a lung, as Chenle and Jisung make fake gagging noises at that. Lana helpfully pats your back a few times during your coughing fit, and you weakly thank her.
“You’re gonna kill somebody with that ingredient,” you tell him when you finally stop wheezing, and Jeno chuckles, eyes sparkling. He nudges you gently, a cheesy grin on his face.
“But that ingredient is just for you, and you’re still breathing.”
At that, your chest seizes up, and your heart constricts as your breath hitches in your throat. You give him a tight smile, laughing a little nervously in agreement. With the rate you’re going now, you’re not so sure how long the second half of that statement will remain true.
Later that night, after Jeno drove you home (and wouldn’t let you return his hoodie yet again, citing it as another excuse to see you much to your secret delight), you stare at the text from Juyeon for a long time. You lightly gnaw on your bottom lip, rereading it over and over again. Finally, you swipe your finger over it and delete the text.
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vi. two samoyeds walk into a (boba) bar.
It’s a Thursday afternoon in early October when you decide to take Jeno to your favorite place off campus: a small boba tea bar found nestled in between a laundromat and bookstore down the small alley that broke off from the main street. You had stumbled upon it after a mishap with cheap boxed wine and your favorite white pair of jeans and you had to find a 24 hour laundry place since the on campus one was closed for the night.
This is your special secret place—as childish as that may sound, as if it’s your treehouse hideout back when you were seven—but it’s the place you go to when you need some time alone, the spot not even Yeeun knows about. And yet, something in you decided that you wanted to share it to Jeno.
“Okay, you can’t tell anyone about this place. You have to swear on secrecy.” You stick out your pinky finger towards Jeno, stopping in front of the alley. He gives you an amused look, but acquiesces to your request.
“Pinky promise, cross my heart, hope to die, stick a needle through my eye. Scout’s honor.” He loops his pinky finger around yours and softly squeezes it before letting go. “Satisfied?”
“Very.” Then, you break out into a huge grin, almost wriggling in excitement because for the first time in your four years at university, you were going to show someone else your favorite place to visit. You grab his hand and pull him down towards the shop, like a child eager to show her teacher her latest drawing. “Okay, Cloudy with a Chance of Boba is down here. You’re gonna love it. They even have a dog!”
Chuckling, he lets you drag him towards the quaint boba bar. It is a cozy hang out place with soft glowing light bulbs, hammocks and chair swings, small nooks and crannies filled with plush pillows for you to sit in with wicker trays to place your drinks and snacks on, instead of the usual tables. There is even a loft area converted into a small library-esque space with several canary yellow overstuffed armchairs and vintage furniture. Cute modern paintings of dogs and cats of various sizes are scattered here and there along with pretty minimalist drawings directly on the walls. And the best part? It’s a dog friendly area, and the owner brings her Samoyed almost daily.
You like to try a different drink every time you come here, and today, you settle on the cloud matcha tea with boba for yourself and honey waffle fries to share. Once Jeno orders and the two of you receive your food and drinks, you make a beeline towards your self-designated spot: the comfortable nook in the wall all the way in the back.
You carefully place the waffle fries on the wicker tray in the center before handing your drink to Jeno. He wordlessly accepts it, and you carefully make your way in, settling against the plethora of comfortable pillows and seat cushions. Jeno gives you both his and your drinks before he also crawls into the comfy space. The two of you lean against the back, legs comfortably stretched out in front of you and fairy lights illuminating from above.
“So this is your secret hiding spot?” Jeno says, raising an eyebrow at you. An endeared expression flits across his face when he notices you happily snuggling into your corner of the nook and sipping your drink.
“Yes.” You reach for one of the waffle fries, munching on it and making a satisfied noise, before taking another one.
“Nobody else knows about it?” he inquires curiously, eyes roaming around the place.
“Well, Jaemin knows actually.” You shrug, pulling your legs up and crossing them leisurely. “Funny story, the first time I ran into him here freshman year, I got the shock of my life. Apparently, I’m not the only one who likes to visit Snowball every week. Sometimes, Jaemin shows up when I’m already here or vice versa. Snowball’s been two timing us, can you believe it?”
Jeno laughs, and you smile at him, eyes crinkling in the corners. “Do you like it here?”
He smiles softly, watching you with a tender look on his face. “I like it.”
Your grin transforms into a bigger one as you fill with pride, pleased with your decision to reveal this top secret location. “Good.”
You take a sip of your drink, content with today’s choice, before you notice Jeno looking at you with a smirk on his face. You grab another fry before casually saying, “I know what you’re about to say, and you better not say it unless you don’t want me to share my fries with you anymore.”
“I wasn’t about to say anything,” he protests, and you give him a deadpan expression. “Oh, really? You weren’t about to make a joke about how there are balls in my mouth?”
“First off, you said it, not me. And second off, no.” He pauses, leaning over to grab another fry. “But now that you mentioned it, I could think of something better than those balls in your mouth.”
You narrow your eyes at him before wordlessly pulling the tray of fries to you and away from his line of reach. You then proceed to eat four or five of them in rapid succession amidst his objections.
“Hey, hey, I was about to say fries! The ‘something better’ are those fries!” he exclaims as you give him a dubious look, shoving another fry in your mouth. Finally, he relents, distress evident in his tone, “Okay, so maybe I was about to say my balls, but please don’t eat them all, I’m sorry!”
You give him another hard stare before finally sliding the tray back to its original position, and he sighs in relief. The two of you continue to enjoy your snacks, enjoying every sip and bite until the basket is nearly empty of fries. And when Snowball the Samoyed finally makes its presence known, Jeno’s eyes positively light up. He hurriedly scrambles out from the nook and out onto the floor, immediately crouching down to pet the fluffy dog. You quickly follow suit, absolutely delighted when Snowball recognizes you and tries to lick your face happily. You play with the dog for a few more minutes before moving back, letting Jeno enjoy its full attention.
Propping your elbow on your knee, you lean your head on your hand, gazing at Jeno and lost in thought. There’s one question that’s been stuck in the back of your mind all these years, and the one person who can answer them is now sitting in front of you.
The boy in question glances over at you, mouth twisting into a familiar smirk. “Is there something on my face or am I just that good looking?”
You scoff, turning away to cover your smile. “Neither. I’m just thinking.”
“About?” He prompts, continuing to pet Snowball even as the dog starts to shove its head into its food bowl, happily eating its dinner.
“Why didn’t you call me?” You finally ask, fiddling with the straw of your half finished drink absentmindedly. “I gave you my phone number, and I really thought you were gonna call me after that night.”
Jeno remains silent for longer than usual as the question is now in the air, and you almost regret it. You had barely talked to him all those years, yet after just a few months, the two of you strangely feel so comfortable around each other, like you don't have to filter your words or can show him the worst of you. Perhaps, this is what happens when you share a traumatic experience with someone. You bond in a weird, convoluted way. Or maybe you just really don’t give a shit what Jeno thinks of you, and vice versa. But perhaps you shouldn’t have brought up something from the past, and you start to tell him to forget it when he finally responds.
“I did call you. I called you right after my classes were over,” he says at last, refusing to meet your gaze. “You picked up, or at least, I thought you did, but I guess you didn’t realize it? Anyway, you were mid rant with someone, listing a bunch of stuff that went wrong the other night. ‘Worst experience of your life, even worse than your first time with your ex when the condom got stuck’ if I remember correctly?”
You wince, remembering that that was one of the less vivid descriptions about your experience you had given to Yeeun that day. “Did you hear all of it?”
“I hung up after that. I mean I didn’t really want to stick around to get my heart crushed even more by the girl I liked, you know?” he says casually, and your heart twists in your chest at that. You didn’t know he had liked you. Suddenly, the lump in your throat doubles in size.
“You liked me?” You whisper out, horrified at this revelation.
“Yeah. You probably didn’t recognize me, but we were in the same lecture for that one mandatory freshman elective. You were always super vocal and challenged the professor’s stances, which I thought was really cool.” He stops petting Snowball, giving you a half smile as he jokes, “So I was about to piss my pants when you sat down next to me at that party and started talking to me. I had no idea what to do, so I started showing you pics of my cats, and when you were actually interested in them, that just sealed the deal. Until you know, the next day.”
“Oh my god. Oh my freaking god,” you repeat, mind racing at ten thousand miles per second. “Is that why I had to return your jacket by giving it to Renjun to give to you? He gave me the stink eye in our drawing class for the rest of the semester! I didn’t know this at all, oh my god, I’m so sorry.”
Jeno looks concerned and tries to reassure you, “Hey, it’s no big deal. It was like three years ago. I’m a big boy. I got over it.”
“No, but you don’t understand. I liked you, too,” you say weakly, mind still reeling and thoughts all over the place. It’s almost as if your brain refuses to compute this new piece of information and make it make sense.
Eyes widening, he makes a noise of confusion, cocking his head to the side. If you weren’t so caught off guard by the sudden unexpected news, you would’ve made some comment about him looking like the overgrown puppy still burying its head in its food bowl. “But you said it was the worst—”
“I know what I said, but do you really think I’d let you continue if I didn’t like you?” You interrupt him before he can give you a second cringeworthy walk down memory lane of that conversation. “Plus, if you had stayed on the line for like twenty seconds longer, you would’ve heard me admitting my dumb crush on you.”
His mouth silently forms an O-shape at this new revelation, and the two of you sit there in silence, mulling over the sudden turn of events. Snowball wanders off to see if he can steal food from some other unsuspecting customers.
“So does this mean I could’ve met Snowball three years ago instead of just now?” He says at last, giving you a small smile and breaking the tension.
You chuckle quietly, “I guess so.”
“And we could’ve been boning for all these years.”
“Okay, calm down, I don’t like you that much.” You choke on a laugh, and his eyes glimmer as the grin on his face widens when he catches onto your little slip.
“So you admit to liking me now,” he says, the corners of his lips quirked up, and he raises an eyebrow at you.
“You said ‘I don’t like you that much’, which means you do like me to some extent,” he informs you smugly, and your face heats up.
“Didn’t. I said I didn’t like you that much. As in past tense,” you attempt to correct him and cover your tracks, but he merely hums in response, not wiping the smirk off his face. If anything, it just grows bigger, much to your frustration.
“So wanna make up for lost time in my room later on?”
Jeno wriggles his eyebrows at you, and you toss a throw pillow at him in retaliation. He ducks in time and laughs loudly, eyes crinkling in the corners and forming moon crescents. You sink back into the remaining pillows, crossing your arms over your chest with a slight huff.
“In your dreams and in my nightmares only.”
“You dream about me? That’s so cute.” He gives you another one of his signature eye smiles, and your stomach flip flops. You force yourself to push away the uneasy feeling building up in the back of your mind.
“It was a nightmare.”
“Still a dream.” He reaches out to pat the fluffball that came trotting back towards you, an expression of pure delight appearing on his face. That feeling of nerves comes up again, but you paint on what you hope to be a convincing smile.
“Shut up, Jeno.”
Jeno smirks at you, coming over to you and sitting close enough that your thigh and arm are pressed against his. His face is mere inches from yours now, and his eyes twinkle mischievously. He reaches out to brush the stray strand of hair from your face, and your breath hitches in your throat as he leans in even closer.
“Make me.”
Immediately, you shove a waffle fry in his mouth, rapidly turning away before he notices how warm your face has gotten, and he laughs loudly, swallowing the fry before moving back to his original spot and focusing his attention back on Snowball with more eager pets. Pressing your hand to your chest, you feel your heart rate slowly go back to normal. That was close.
Too close.
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vii. cat-astrophe in the making.
[ 10:34 p.m. ] catboy 🐈: are you busy
[ 10:34 p.m. ] catboy 🐈: i’m catsitting
[ 10:35 p.m. ] catboy 🐈: {image.jpeg}
[ 10:35 p.m. ] catboy 🐈: can you bring me food
[ 10:35 p.m. ] catboy 🐈: poppy fell asleep on me and I can’t move
[ 10:35 p.m. ] catboy 🐈: help me
[ 10:36 p.m. ] catboy 🐈: i’m gonna starve out here and die and it’s gonna be all your fault
[ 10:36 p.m.] catboy 🐈: when the police find my body they’re gonna find a note that says “Y/N did it” in my notes app
Balancing a cardboard box containing one large combo pizza in one hand, you ring the doorbell of Apartment #21 on 727 Maisie Street, one door to the left of Jeno and Jaemin’s shared place. Tapping your foot on top of the cute doormat in the shape of a paw print and the words “PURR-FECT HOME” etched upon it, you wouldn’t be surprised if Jeno tried to buy one for his apartment (It would be rather fitting with that pair of boxers he owns). Jaemin probably wouldn’t let him though because it would clash with the interior design that he painstakingly put together using IKEA furniture and some pieces he forced the other Nu Chi Theta boys to help him carry home after some stranger left them out by the curb.
The door swings open, and Jeno’s face brightens up when his eyes zero in on the carb loaded, cheesy goodness you brought with you. “Thank god, food is finally here. What took you so long?”
“Yeah, it’s great to see you, too,” you reply sarcastically, brushing past him and leaning down to unzip the cute black ankle boots you recently bought online during the Steve Madden 30% off sale. Thank god you managed to snag the last pair in your size.
“Where’s the ‘Thank you, Y/N, for leaving Kunhang’s party to bring me food? I’m eternally grateful and in your debt forever’ followed up with ‘You’re welcome, Jeno, it’s no problem at all. It’s not like I waited forty minutes for them to make your personal pizza specifically with those stupid red onions you like.’”
“You know, people are gonna think you’re even crazier than you already are if they hear you talking to yourself like that,” he says casually, taking the pizza from your hands, and you glare at his back, kicking off your shoes by the doorway and trailing behind him as he places it on the kitchen table.
“Fuck you.”
“Fuck me yourself,” he retorts. You let out a poorly concealed scoff, and he just gives you a teasing grin. An adorable, slightly overweight Siamese cat jumps onto the table, sniffing the box. You almost forgive Jeno for cutting your night out short when the pretty feline comes over to you and nudges your hand for a pet.
“Hey, did you get—”
“Ranch to dip the crusts in? Yeah, I did,” you answer, taking a seat, and he rips a few paper towels off from the roll near the sink before coming back and handing you one of them.
“You read my mind.”
“It was a quick read.”
He playfully glares at you, and your lips curl into an innocent smirk. You bat your eyelashes at him until he rolls his eyes, moving to sit across from you. You open up the box of heaven, taking a deep inhale of the greasy deliciousness. Pan pizza will always remain superior, no matter what Johnny says about Chicago deep dish pizza.
Pulling out a slice, you immediately take a bite of it, almost moaning from how good it is. Kunhang had bribed you to come to his party (in celebration of Chinese Singles Day on November 11th, but you’re one hundred percent sure he just used that as an excuse to dip into the frat’s event budget) with the offer of free pizza. As a broke college student, the words “free” and “pizza” combined together are basically the holy grail, so you obviously agreed to attend. However, when you showed up, the only thing you saw was an expired DiGiorno's pizza left thawing on the counter. You were definitely not impressed.
“I thought you said Poppy was stuck in your lap,” you say, chewing slowly as Jeno basically scarfs down an entire slice in seconds before reaching for a second one. You’re kind of impressed, but mostly disgusted when you’re reminded how college boys are basically garbage disposals when it comes to food.
“She was,” he answers, swallowing another mouthful of cheese and tomato sauce, before continuing, “But she ran off when she heard the doorbell.”
“Why didn’t you just move her then?” you remark, and he dramatically gasps, making it seem like you had just suggested for him to run the cat over with his Lexus instead.
“I can’t do that!” Jeno exclaims, scandalized, before lowering his voice to a hushed tone. “She chose me.”
“Yeah, well, she chose me now,” you say smugly, nodding down towards the ball of fur curled up in your lap, eyes sleepily blinking up at you. “She looks like a cute little shrimp. Have you fed her yet?”
“Yeah, Mrs. Jung told me to feed her at 7 p.m. so she already ate earlier.”
“How long are you catsitting for?” You gently scratch under Poppy’s chin and she lets out a pleased purring noise, her body vibrating slightly along with it.
“Just until Sunday evening. I have to come in the morning and the evening to water the plants and feed her. Apparently, Poppy eats too much and forgets to breathe, so I have to spoon out her food a little at a time or else, she’ll just shove her face in it all and throw up.”
Poppy nudges her cute little face into the crook of your arm, and you coo over her, softly rubbing the top of her head. “She’s an angel.”
“She destroyed five rolls of toilet paper today.”
“Still an angel.”
“... You’re right.”
“Of course, I am.” You grin satisfactorily, and Jeno only shakes his head, smiling to himself. The two of you finish off the rest of the pics until an empty cardboard box covered in grease stains is all that’s left. He picks up the box and used makeshift napkins, tossing them into the kitchen trash can and making a mental note to take out the garbage on Sunday after he feeds Poppy in the evening.
“So what are your plans for Christmas?”
You and Jeno are sprawled out on the throw rug in the living room. He’s laying flat on his back with Poppy perched on his stomach, happily stroking her back as she purrs loudly. You lean back on your outstretched palms, oddly endeared by the sight in front of you. But it’s cuffing season, so you blame it on that and the cold weather for the sudden urge to cuddle the hell out of the boy and cat in front of you.
“Mm, I’m gonna see if I can power through all fifteen seasons of Criminal Minds before the break is over.”
Poppy pads over to you and settles in your lap, curling up into a small ball again, tail flicking back and forth. Jeno frowns, sitting upright as he looks at you. “You’re not going home?”
“My sister and I pooled our money together to pay for a cruise for my parents since it’s their thirtieth anniversary,” you explain, carefully petting Poppy. “And my sister is staying with her boyfriend, so I have the whole break to myself.”
Jeno stays quiet for a moment, lost in thought, and you focus all your attention on the fluffy cat, reaching out for the jingling ball toy nearby. You shake it, catching Poppy’s attention immediately as she tries to swat it out of your hand. You wave it back and forth, watching as her eyes trail the bright, two toned ball, her ears twitching.
“I’m going home for the holiday break. You should come with me,” he says at last, and you drop the ball in shock. Poppy lunges over and pounces on it, the loud jingling noise immediately bursting forth.
Your first instinct is to say no, but you pause. Yeeun is flying out to the Swiss Alps for her annual family ski trip, and you really don’t want to stay in your apartment alone because that means you’re going to have to kill any spiders you see by yourself.
“Are you… are you sure? I don’t want to intrude.”
“Yeah, it’s no big deal. Jaemin comes over to celebrate with us, too, on Christmas Eve.” Jeno shrugs, leaning over to grab the ball and shake it around. Poppy jumps up and tries to grab it. “My sister is studying abroad, so it’s just me and my mom this time. I’m sure my mom would like the extra company.”
He wants you to meet his mom, you think silently to yourself. Your stomach flips at the thought of that, and you are definitely going to say n—
“You can see Bongsik, Seol, and Nal, too,” he continues, and the rejection dies on the tip of your tongue. You can’t believe you’re really reconsidering your answer because of cats.
“Okay, what day are you driving home? And what does your mom like? Don’t give me that look, Jeno, I can’t just come empty handed. I’m not a freeloader, like Donghyuck, you know.”
You’re doing this for the cats. You repeatedly remind yourself that this is for the felines, and not because you like to see that stupid grin that Jeno is currently sporting on his face. This is solely for the sake of seeing cute furry creatures. That is all this is for.
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viii. merry christmas, ya filthy animals.
When you had arrived with Jeno on her doorstep at the start of winter break, Jeno’s mother immediately pulled you in for a hug and welcomed you happily. She had been incredibly kind and made you feel invited and at home right away, instructing Jeno to put your small suitcase in his sister’s room where you will be staying before whisking you off to show all of Jeno’s baby photos with glee as he loudly complained behind you both. Your entire stay so far has been simply wonderful.
“Y/N, would you mind helping me with this?”
His mother requests in a soft voice, and you agree immediately, going over to her side and picking up the vegetables and going over to the sink, washing them carefully in the colander. She smiles at you before focusing on basting the small roast beef for your Christmas Eve dinner. “Thank you, sweetie. I would ask Jeno, but he’s not too good with knives.”
“Hey!” Jeno protests loudly, entering the kitchen, but he quiets down when his mother glances over at him with a raised eyebrow. “Okay, fine, I accidentally cut myself twice last time, but that was it!”
“He’s a walking hazard in the kitchen.” Jeno’s mother shakes her head. “It’s a good thing he lives with Jaemin now, or else his entire diet would consist of ramen and protein shakes.”
“Mom!” Jeno whines, and she chuckles, “Why don’t you go set the table out for us, honey? Is Jaemin eating with us this time?”
“No, he’s going to come over later after he has dinner with his family.” Jeno pulls out the plates and utensils from the cabinet and drawers, stacking them up before he carries them out to the dining room. You smile absentmindedly, watching his figure disappear before realizing your hands are growing slightly numb under the running cold water and quickly turn off the faucet and shake the colander.
“You make him really happy.”
Startled, you look over to see Jeno’s mother smiling at you fondly, hip leaning against the counter. Her eyes are kind, and they match Jeno’s. Turning back to focus on preparing the main dish, she continues, “He’s never brought a girl home before. But I can see why my son likes you so much.”
“O-oh, we aren’t dating,” you stammer out, cheeks warming up at the implication. The bell pepper in your grasp slips from your hand, and you hastily catch it in time, stopping it from rolling off the cutting board. “We’re just friends.”
“Of course, my mistake,” his mother acknowledges before giving you a genuine smile, an indescribable look in her eyes: a mixture of knowing with a hint of melancholy—one that only a mother would understand. “The way he looks at you though… and you at him.”
She flashes another soft smile at you, a tinge of nostalgia sweeping her features. “Nevermind that, excuse me, I’m just rambling. Should we finish making dinner? I think everything smells delicious so far! And I’m so excited to try your homemade macarons!”
You hesitantly return her smile with one of your own, forcing down the swirling abyss of inexplicable emotions that had erupted from her words and tries to rear its ugly head at you. When Jeno pokes his head back into the kitchen, his mother puts him on mashed potato duty, and he groans but acquiesces. As his mother chatters on, the two of you work side by side, his arm brushing against yours every once in a while. You desperately quell the colony of butterflies that flutter in your stomach.
The dinner preparation continues smoothly, and dinner is served. It’s a light hearted affair, and Jeno’s mother proceeds to tell many fun anecdotes about his childhood, making him protest in embarrassment and you laugh over all the mishaps he and Jaemin had gotten into when they were younger. You make sure to file away the story consisting of school music recitals, too much apple juice, and a very unfortunate accident for future blackmail. When it is time for dessert, his mother gushes over the matcha macarons you made for her as a present along with the pretty bouquet of gardenias and camellias that she carefully arranged in a vase now displayed on the end of the dining table.
After dinner, she bids the two of you good bye when she has to go off to her late night shift at the hospital, hugging you warmly and telling Jeno she’ll be back tomorrow by noon. When she leaves, the two of you plop down on the couch in the living room, sprawled out comfortably on opposite ends and careful not to disturb the three snoozing cats lying on the top of the furniture.
“Wanna pick out a movie? Jaemin should be coming over in fifteen minutes,” Jeno says, picking up the remote and flicking on the television. “Oh, there’s the usual Harry Potter marathon on.”
“I’m good with that.” You shrug before sitting upright as a sudden thought comes to mind. “Wait, be right back.”
You dash upstairs to the room you’re staying in, leaving a bewildered Jeno behind. Rummaging through your suitcase, you pull out a neatly wrapped box and three smaller ones. Clutching them to your chest, you hurry back down before nervously thrusting them at him, and he barely catches them before they almost fall to the floor.
“I got you a present.” You anxiously twist your hands together behind your back as you try to keep your voice calm. “My family and I like to open our presents during Christmas Eve since none of us are early risers, and well, I thought you could maybe open it now?”
Jeno stares at the boxes for a moment before looking at you, the largest smile spreading across his face and relief washes over you like a tidal wave. “You got me a present.”
“I got one for Bongshik, Seol, and Nal, too.”
“You got presents for my cats, too?” He positively beams at you before standing up and quickly making his way to the stairs. “Wait, hold on, I got you something, too.”
You sit down on the couch, and he returns with a gift bag, sitting down next to you and sheepishly handing it over. “Sorry, I’m not good at wrapping presents, and Jaemin wasn’t around to help me.”
You pull out the tissue paper, a familiar object falling out, and when you recognize the tell tale fluorescent orange color, you laugh freely, grinning up at him. “Thank you, Jeno, I needed a Tide pen.”
“Just in case I accidentally spill any more drinks on you.” He puts his hands up innocently before motioning towards the bag with a softer smile. “But that’s just the gag gift.”
You dig deeper into the bag and pull out a small box. Untying the pretty white ribbon on top, you take off the top, and your eyes widen as you breathe out, “Oh my god.”
Your fingers wrap around a thin, delicate gold chain with tiny dotted spherical beads spaced out and your first name’s initial in dainty cursive and matching gold threaded on it. You carefully lift it out, and it sparkles as it catches the Christmas tree lights from different angles.
“Do you… like it?” Jeno chews his bottom lip nervously, “Jaemin helped me pick it out because I wasn’t too sure, but it’s too late now to—”
“I love it,” you interrupt, smiling at him.
“Oh, thank god,” he sighs, relief written all over his face as he watches you wrap the bracelet around your wrist. “Wait, let me help you with it.”
He reaches out and carefully grasps onto the loop and clasp on either side of the chain, the tip of his tongue sticking out slightly as he concentrates on securing the bracelet. You gaze at him, the corner of your lip quirking up into an endeared smile.
“Got it,” he announces proudly, grinning at you, and your smile widens. “Thank you, Jeno.”
His smile grows as well before he glances down at the wrapped packages in his lap. Picking up the largest one with his name written across the tag on the front, he shakes it slightly before raising an eyebrow at you. “So what are you giving me?”
“My virginity.”
Jeno nearly chokes, and you wink and give him finger guns. He narrows his eyes at you, poorly disguising his chuckle as a scoff. “Nice try. But I already know about your first time—that lost condom horror story from high school.”
“Ah, right.” You lean back against the cushions comfortably before gesturing towards the boxes. “Why don’t you open them and see what it is then?”
He eyes you suspiciously before unwrapping the present, pulling off the top of the box, and his eyes grow round before immediately darting over towards you. “Is this….?”
“I thought it’d match your boxers.” You shrug, and the tips of his ears grow red. He pulls out a large maroon sweater with Bongshik’s, Seol, and Nal’s faces knitted on the front along with his name at the bottom and “PROUD CAT DAD” across the top.
“Oh my god.” He immediately pulls it over his head and tugs over it over his body before turning to you with an ear splitting grin. “I fucking love it, holy shit, Y/N, thank you.”
“Wait til you open the other presents.” You motion towards the three smaller boxes, and his eyes widen once more as he gasps, “You didn’t…”
You grin. “I did.”
Jeno immediately tears open the smaller boxes, pulling out similar miniature versions of his own sweater: one with each cat’s face and name knitted on them. He looks positively delighted, bouncing in his seat as he beams at you. “Wait, help me put these on them, so I can take a picture of them with me.”
You grab Seol’s sweater from his hand and reach out to pick up the sleepy cat from the top of the couch. Carefully, you tug the sweater onto his fluffy body. Much to your relief, the cat didn’t squirm, allowing you to quickly put it on. Jeno nimbly puts the sweater on Nal before carrying Bongshik to his lap and slowly pulling on the last sweater over her head.
“Perfect!” he says happily before extending his phone towards you. “Can you take a picture of us?”
“Yeah, of course.” You take his phone, about to swipe up to open the camera option when you notice his lockscreen. Faltering slightly, you realize with a jolt that it’s a picture of you and him from the bonfire. You push down the uneasy feeling to the pit of your stomach and plaster on a smile as you say, “Okay, ready? I’m gonna count to three.”
Jeno scoops up all his beloved cats in his arms and squishes his face against them. He grins happily, eyes curving into the prettiest moon crescents, and you hate how quickly the butterflies rise in your stomach at that sight. You snap away, taking pictures from various angles before you decide to stop before you use up his entire phone storage. As you try to hand him back his phone, he nimbly wraps his fingers around your wrist and tugs you down next to him.
“You gotta take a picture with us, too,” he insists, eyes sparkling. “This was your gift, you have to be in at least one picture.”
Bongshik comes over and plops down in your lap, staring up at you with her wide, pretty eyes, and you suddenly don’t have the heart to refuse. “Okay, just a few.”
Jeno beams, holding his phone up to snap a selfie of you, him, and his cats. Pressed against his side, you hold up Bongshik and smile, the fluttery feeling in your chest growing exponentially when you see how happy you look next to him. You’re in the middle of telling him to airdrop you the photos when the ringing doorbell cuts you off mid-sentence.
“Oh, that’s Jaemin, right? I’ll get it,” you say, standing up, and Jeno looks like he’s about to protest when you give him a glare. “Seol and Nal are sleeping on you, and don’t you dare wake them up.”
Defeated, he sits there, fiddling with his phone and petting his cats as you saunter over to the front door. When you pull it open, Jaemin looks up from his phone, the slight crease in between his eyebrows disappearing as he roughly shoves the device into his jacket pocket.
“Y/N,” he greets you with a smile before extending the plate in his hands towards you. “My mom wanted to give you guys some freshly baked chocolate chip cookies.”
“Oh my god, please tell your mom I love her.” You snatch up the desserts quickly, mouth already watering at the sight of them. “Come on in, Jaemin, we’re watching the Harry Potter marathon. We can quote the script like we always do and drive Jeno crazy.”
“Oh, ah, I can’t… I, uh, gotta get back home.” He shifts from one foot to the other, giving you a tight smile. You suppose you don’t do a very good job at hiding your disappointment because he quickly backtracks, “I mean I would if I could, but um, my mom needs me back there.”
“Hey, no worries, it’s okay. Maybe next time.” You give him a reassuring smile, and he relaxes. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out something, fiddling with it. “I, uh, got you something for Christmas, too. Just something small.”
You quickly set aside the cookies, and he hands you a little capsule—one of those plastic circular containers you can get from a toy machine. You pop it open, a smile immediately stretching across your face. With a laugh, you hold up a cute little charm of Winnie the Pooh wearing a pancakes costume, admiring Jaemin’s gift for you.
“It’s so cute, oh my god, I love it!”
“You better. It took me seven tries to finally get the pancake one,” Jaemin says, smiling to himself when he sees you immediately attach it to your phone.
“What’s gonna happen to the other six keychains you got?” you chuckle, still admiring the new accessory on your phone. You look up and catch him smiling at you, and he turns away, cheeks flushed.
“I’m gonna give them to the kids at the hospital. I think they’ll all like it,” he answers, and you nod in agreement before your face falls at a sudden realization.
“I’m so sorry, but I don’t have a present for you.” You frown, the corners of your lips downturned, before brightening up when an unexpected thought occurs. “Okay, I know it’s not much, but… I promise I’ll make you the best waffles you’ve ever had whenever you want it.”
“You know how to make waffles?”
“Of course I do! I make the best waffles. This is a one in a lifetime chance to eat the greatest waffles of all time made by yours truly. They could even make Gordon Ramsay cry,” you exclaim, waving your hands around for emphasis before quickly tacking on as an afterthought, “But cry in a good way, not like Mark’s eggs.”
He chuckles, slipping his hands into his pockets. “Alright, I’m holding you to that. I’m gonna cash in that offer one day.”
“Good.” Your eyes twinkle. “Merry Christmas, Jaemin.”
Jaemin bids you goodbye soon after, and you wave him off until he drives off in his car. Carrying the plate of cookies with you, you make your way back to the family room, placing the dish on top of the coffee table. Jeno’s eyes light up, and he all but launches himself at the sweets (thank god the cats have moved off his lap and elsewhere by now).
“Where’s Jaemin?” he casually asks, munching on a cookie, and you frown, plopping down next to him on the couch and tucking your legs under you. “He said he had to go back home for his mom or something.”
“Ah, got it,” he nods, taking a quick peek at his phone, and you sulk, lips jutting out into a pout. “Who’s gonna recite Harry Potter lines with me now?
“Oh thank god, I don’t have to hear another ‘My father will hear about this’ from him,” he sighs in relief, and you chuckle at that before putting on your worst British accent.
“Jaemin will hear about this.”
He struggles to keep a straight face for a good ten seconds before he gives in, a loud guffaw escaping from his mouth, and you grin, rather pleased with yourself.
“‘Yer a wizard, Harry,’” you imitate Hagrid next, much to his delight, and you go through nearly every character until Jeno is in stitches and near tears. You save one of your favorites for last and increase your voice to a higher octave. “Not my daughter, you bitch!”
Jeno lets out another laugh, unable to contain himself as you say haughtily, “Now, if you two don't mind, I'm going to bed before either of you come up with another clever idea to get us killed. Or worse, expelled.”
“Oh my god,” Jeno gasps, laughing breathlessly, eyes disappearing under the shadows of his pretty long lashes. “Holy shit, wait, my sides hurt, shut up.”
Giggling, you teasingly grin, leaning in as you slightly tilt your head to the side, eyes gleaming. “Make me.”
As the laughter subsides, the room grows quiet, and you suddenly realize just how close the two of you are, breath hitching in your throat. Jeno seems to be aware of the short proximity as well as he swallows hard, subtly shifting in his seat. His eyes map out every detail of your face, ending at your lips before flitting back up to meet yours. Your heart feels like it’s about to fall out of your chest, pounding so loudly that you wonder if he can hear it.
“Scared, Y/N?” he whispers, sending the slightest shivers down your spine as you hold your breath. His hand finds yours, and your eyes drop down to see his fingers intertwined with yours.
You let out a quiet laugh, the words finally registering in your mind. You gaze back at him as the corners of your lips quirk up into a smirk. “You wish.”
Before you know it, he lets go of your hand and tugs you even closer, pulling you onto his lap and closing the distance. He captures your lips against his, and your breath hitches in your throat for a second time tonight as you straddle him, the palms of your hands pressed against his chest. He tastes sweet, like chocolate, and you cave into his embrace as his hand reaches up to delicately cradle your cheek. The next kiss is messier, more desperate, and he holds you like he’s scared of losing you, like if he doesn’t feel every inch of your body pressed against his, then this would all be a dream—that you aren’t really here, that this isn’t real.
Your heart ricochets in your chest, sparks flying until a whole damn wildfire is ablaze, and your grip on his shirt tightens, like you’re afraid of letting go and losing yourself. You feel drunk off of his kisses as he trails them down the slope of your neck before leaning up to press another one against your mouth for good measure.
“You wanna see something cool?” he says a little breathlessly when he pulls away, his cheeks and lips both a pretty shade of carmine now. You nod, not trusting your voice in this very moment.
He reaches behind you, carefully slipping his hand under your shirt. Pausing, he waits for your reaction, and when you nod, he continues. After a few seconds, he deftly unhooks the back of your bra before pulling his hand back, a proud expression on his face, and you start to laugh, shoulders shaking and mouth pulled into the prettiest smile that has him stopping to admire the pretty sight in front of him.
“Wow, you broke your record of five minutes,” you finally say, still giggling slightly, and he winks at you. “I had practice.”
“Yeah?” you hum as his hands trail to the undersides of your thighs, and he easily lifts you up as you wrap your arms around his neck. “Are you planning on breaking any other records tonight?”
Eyes glimmering, Jeno grins, leaning in to place another kiss on the corner of your mouth, and your heart races, cheeks growing warmer than ever.
“I’m going for the gold, sweetheart.”
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ix. to be (a coward) or not to be.
You find yourself lying in the cramped twin size bed next to Jeno. Your eyes wander around, taking in your surroundings and memorizing the way the moonlight casts shadows on the bits and pieces that give you a glimpse into the childhood of the sleeping boy next to you. There are posters of old bands and science fair ribbons pinned to the navy painted walls along with shelves filled with dusty sports trophies and action figures. You can see some old pictures of Jeno and Jaemin in high school along with younger versions of a few other boys you recognize from your university lined up on his desk neatly, no doubt framed and arranged by his mother. And then you notice how your clothes are haphazardly strewn throughout the room, intruding upon a space that isn’t yours. You feel so out of place.
Jeno stirs next to you when you shift slightly in your position and wraps his arm around your waist, tugging you closer to him and nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck. You gaze at the boy next to you, his delicate features highlighted by the soft glow of the moonlight from the curve of his lips to the pretty mole under his right eye to his long lashes casting shadows on his cheeks. He looks so innocent in that moment, and the guilt pools even deeper in your stomach for what you are about to do.
But you feel like you’re suffocating, almost drowning. A foreign emotion has already crept its way into your heart, and it’s squeezing your lungs until you can’t breathe anymore. There’s a reason why you choose a different pretty boy to spend the midnight hours with every time, a different warm body in your bed each night, a boy you know you won’t ever love for every single one of your short lived relationships.
Falling in love is terrifying. Falling feels a lot like flying until you crash into the pavement, heart smashed into smithereens. Promises are made, only to be broken. Commitment is your worst enemy, and letting someone see you in your most vulnerable moments frightens you more than anything in the world. The thought of letting someone have the power to affect you this much is just unfathomable, and you just can’t give up any part of yourself, can’t show the best and worst parts of you, can’t let yourself be vulnerable. You can’t give your all to someone only for them to confirm your worst fear.
But when you glance over at Jeno and feel the way he holds you so close—almost as if you mean something to him—there’s a tiny voice in the back of your mind telling you to stay. Enveloped in his arms and pressed against his side, you feel safe and protected, like this is where you should be. You wouldn’t mind coming home to this every night. Home. You feel at home when you’re with him, and that thought alone shakes you to the core.
You can’t do it.
You’re too scared to fall in love, too scared to take the chance, too scared to leave your heart in the hands of someone else. So you quietly slide out of his bed, not missing the way his eyebrows furrow as his arm reaches out to hold onto someone who’s already gone. You carefully pick up your scattered clothes and put them back on. You silently pack up your suitcase and find your phone, scheduling an Uber to take you back to your apartment. You pull up his messages and type out another one of your recycled excuses. You hit send, hearing a faint ping! from his phone, before finally exiting his bedroom, missing the way his eyes slowly open and watch you walk away.
It’s a routine you’ve gotten down by now: something as easy as waking up, washing your face, brushing your teeth, and changing out of your pajamas every day before your 8 AM class. You leave before the first rays of the sun peek out, the only trace of you lingering is the disappearing warmth in the sheets. Leaving is the only thing you’re good at. It’s as easy as breathing for you: one step forward, inhale, another step forward, exhale. You keep putting one foot in front of the other until you’re gone.
Bad habits are hard to break, or perhaps you’re too much of a coward to even try.
This is for the best, you say to yourself, repeating those words like a broken mantra in your mind until hopefully, you believe them yourself. You never stay. You never get attached. That’s how it always is. That’s how it has always been. That’s how it will always be. It’s always easier to be the bad guy. This is what you’re good at doing.
But it seems as though you forgot to pack away your heart when you left because there’s an empty ache in your chest during the entire car ride back.
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x. the fujiwhara effect.
When two hurricanes meet, it is called the Fujiwhara Effect. Two whirlwinds spin in the same direction, dancing in circles around a common center. They will eventually spiral into the center point and merge, unless one is more powerful than the other, in which the smaller one orbits around the larger.
Perhaps it was the calm before the storm. You have an awful penchant for screwing things up right when everything is going perfect, so maybe there’s always going to be a storm because you are the storm. It’s simply in your inherent nature to come rushing in and destroying everything good in your path once something becomes too real, too tangible, too permanent. You like to come and go, never staying in one place for too long, tearing through and leaving a war zone—and well, it’s not your fault if a trail of broken hearts is left behind. The warning signs were all there, but they still came to you.
But Jeno is no different. He goes around breaking hearts for fun, discarding them faster than a child plowing through a pile of shiny new toys on Christmas Day. Except he’s a stronger hurricane. And when the two of you eventually crash into each other, your whole world is ripped down the seams until you are spilling everywhere and spiraling out of control, until you’re stuck spinning in circles at his mercy, until you’re getting dizzier and dizzier with each passing second.
It’s all fun and games until it’s not anymore because you’ve made a habit of loving him, made a home in a person, and you recognize the way he looked at you that night. It was the way Yeonjun had looked at you, the way Minhyuk looked at you, the way Hyunjin looks at you, the way Yugyeom looks at Yeeun, the way all those girls look at Jaemin, the way you caught yourself looking at Jeno.
You want to throw up.
This isn’t how it’s supposed to be. You weren’t supposed to catch feelings. You weren’t supposed to go this far. You weren’t supposed to fall in love with him, but you did, and now you can’t bear to deal with the consequences. Your fight or flight instincts kick in, and you do what you always do best.
You run away. Straight back into Hyunjin’s arms.
The scene is eerily familiar as you find yourself back in that same bathroom of the NCT frat house from all those months ago, but with a different boy in tow. Hyunjin pulls you in close, sloppily pressing kisses over every inch of your exposed skin, but it seems so wrong. He kisses you like it’s a means to an end, a desperate race to the finish line to get your clothes off and take what he wants. His hands are on your arms when they should be on your waist or cradling your cheek, he doesn’t smell like citrus and pine, but above all, you feel absolutely nothing.
And that’s exactly how it’s supposed to be.
“Here or bedroom?” he mutters, fingers digging into your hips now, and you barely register the fact that he had asked you something at first.
“Here.” If you close your eyes, you can pretend it’s him instead. But that’s not what you need, so your eyes snap open to stare at the boy in front of you, reminding yourself that it’s not him, that it can’t be him. But want is a slippery slope, and your eyes flutter shut.
It is a mistake.
You see him. You struggle in this battle, the weight on your shoulders now pressing down on your chest, rib cage bending to the point of breaking, a billion thoughts clouding up your mind, your breath escaping between your teeth in uneven increments, and you find yourself careening out of control so rapidly that you grab onto anything, anyone, chest heaving up and down as your eyes snap open.
Hyunjin fumbles with your shirt, roughly grabbing the hem, and you’re clutching onto his belt, until the door bangs open and your heart leaps to your throat at the sight of him.
Lee Jeno: the walking cliché of your wildest dreams and your nightmares simultaneously. He’s living, breathing proof that bad boys who wear the typical leather jacket and drive a sleek car with one hand on the steering wheel, but also have a hidden soft side (because you saw him snuggling with his cats back home every night) actually exist. It’s Lee Jeno who used to have a different girl wrapped around his finger every night or morning or even sometimes mid-afternoon; Lee Jeno with his pretty eye smile that can make you swoon; Lee Jeno with his annoyingly endearing tendencies that you finally understand why so many girls, and even some boys, fall for so willingly.
Or for you, Lee Jeno: the boy who was your first genuine crush. He’s the reason you desperately wished you listened to Jennie when she told you to find an older, more experienced boy to have your first college hookup with, and not a fellow lowly freshman because you never knew a tiny, dumb crush could end up like this three years later. You never would’ve ended up learning that he has three cats that he loves more than anything in the world, that his favorite color is blue because that was Jaemin’s favorite color when they met in kindergarten, that he likes having exactly ten tiny marshmallows in his hot chocolate, that he secretly enjoys those cheesy Hallmark Christmas movies his older sister forced him to watch with her when they were little, that all these little insignificant things have become significant to you because it’s Jeno. It’s no longer a silly crush; it has grown into something so much bigger that has him rooted in your heart, leaving a relentless ache in his wake as the thoughts of him engulf you whole, and it has you feeling absolutely terrified.
“Shit, sorry, I didn’t kno—”
He stops when he realizes it’s you: the one who didn’t return his phone calls when he woke up to an empty bed or answered his texts, the one who got away, the one who somehow made her way into his heart and left a you-shaped hole in it. The hurt flashes in his eyes for a millisecond before it’s replaced by anger at the sight of the other boy, but you still catch it nonetheless, guilt curling up in the pit of your stomach.
“What the fuck?”
“Uh, we’re kinda busy here, dude, so unless you wanna stay and watch—” Hyunjin motions towards the door, but that seems to only make Jeno even more furious.
“Get the fuck out.” His voice is dangerously low, directed towards Hyunjin, but he’s staring at you. Hyunjin slinks out the door, muttering curses under his breath, but you’re frozen under his gaze, remaining perched on the bathroom countertop. The door swings shut, and he stands there, the both of you remaining silent as the muffled music continues to seep through the walls.
“Why?” he whispers, hoarse voice breaking at the end as his true emotions slip through the cracks of his dissipating anger. “Why are you doing this?”
You didn’t think you could find your voice, but at last you do. “What do you mean ‘why’? Isn’t this what we always do? Find someone, fuck, repeat.”
“But you and I—” He stops there abruptly, carding his hand through his hair in frustration. “We just— you and I…”
“You and I what? We slept together. That’s it. You got what you wanted, so that’s the end of it. Aren’t you happy?” You raise an eyebrow at him, pushing down the churning feeling in your stomach. “You can go back to your little body count competition now. Isn’t that what you wanted?”
“That’s not what I meant.”
He keeps his voice level, not falling for your jabs, and it angers you. You want him to be mad at you, want him to finally snap because then you would have a reason to leave, a reason to justify what you’re doing, a reason to not feel so goddamn guilty.
You don’t understand why you feel like this, the guilt eating away inside of you until you’re left with a hollow shell of yourself. It’s not like he and you were exclusive or even worse, dating. You and Jeno don’t date. Dating is not a word in either one of your dictionaries. Hooking up? Yes. One night stands? Of course. Next morning’s walk of shame? Unfortunately, guilty as charged. But dating? That word is foreign on your tongue and his.
He and you are the same. You’re the type of people who just take and take and take, but give nothing back. The type to never commit. The type that girls and boys think “I can change them, I can fix them. Just wait and see.” but it only ends with another broken heart in your collection and an unspoken “I told you so” from their friends. The type who uses empty promises, pretty gift wrapped words, and alluring smiles to get what they want and occupy their next conquest’s every waking thought before, during, and after their encounter. The type to play with a heart until they’re bored and set off to find an even shinier, brand new one. The type to leave and never stay.
The two of you are well versed with how this is supposed to end. But why does it feel like your heart is being crushed at an excruciatingly slow rate with every breath you take?
“Then what was it about?” You challenge, curling your fingers into fists. “What is this about? Do you need an actual review to scrub your now spotless record? Because here’s one: you’ve improved. It was great. Thank you for a fantastic night, now please let me enjoy tonight and go find Hyunjin again or whoever.”
The mention of his name sparks an immediate reaction as his jaw tightens and his entire figure stiffens. “This isn’t about that.”
“What is this about then, Jeno? Did you really think that this—” You gesture between you and him. “—was something?”
He stares at you with his mouth agape. “We spent hours, weeks, months together. I told you things I never even told Jaemin. I invited you to my house for Christmas. I let you meet my mom. I let you meet my cats.”
Your fingernails press so hard into the palms of your hands that you think you almost break skin. You school your expression into one of boredom. “So?”
“So doesn’t that mean something?” He finally explodes, hitting his hand against the wall in frustration as a distraught expression appears on his features. “Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”
“Should it?”
He unfurls his fist, answering quietly, “It does to me.”
“But not to me.” The lie falls so easily from your lips, but Jeno can detect a falsity from the truth so easily when it comes to you. He knows you better than anyone else because you two are alike, cut from the same cloth, and that is what scares you the most.
“You’re lying,” he says softly, watching your still figure as you sharply inhale at that. “You wouldn’t share hidden places and secrets and spend time with someone if it all meant nothing to you. You wouldn’t buy custom Etsy Christmas sweaters for their cats or count out the number of marshmallows to add into their cup of hot chocolate or memorize their pizza order or go to three different grocery stores for a specific type of candy for someone if they meant nothing to you. If you didn’t love them.”
“We aren’t… we’re not made for that.” You shake your head. “You and I… we aren’t— aren’t built to care and love, to be cared for and to be loved. It’s been like that for years now.”
“You’re wrong,” Jeno whispers, and he’s looking at you with that exact same tender gaze that’s gotten you into this mess. “You’re wrong because I care about you.”
He swallows hard.
“Don’t.” Your voice breaks as you shake your head desperately. “Please don’t say it.”
“—I love you.”
The hurricanes collide. You’re falling apart.
“Stop. You— no, you don’t. You can’t. You’re fucking lying. Take it back.” You’re reeling, struggling to take back control but it’s too late to put the brakes on now and you’re seconds away from driving over the edge of the cliff.
“I’ve never lied to you, Y/N.” He looks at you with tired eyes, and you feel yourself slowly crumbling. “I’ve screwed up, I’ve done some shitty things, but I have never lied to you. So the least you can do is be honest with me. Do you really feel nothing?”
“I don’t… I’m not… That’s not… That is completely missing the point.” You flounder to find a footing, to find someplace you can hide and feel less exposed and vulnerable. You wrap your arms around yourself, hugging your body tightly and unable to say anything more.
“I love you,” he repeats in a gentler tone, and you can feel his gaze searing into the side of your face. You turn away, unable to look him in the eye and holding back the tears.
“I never asked you to.”
“But I still do.”
Jeno waits a few more moments, but you stay quiet with your eyes turned toward the floor and lips curled inwards and pressed tightly together. He laughs humorlessly, shoulders slumped in defeat as he turns towards the door, his voice echoing in the empty space.
“So I guess this is how it feels.”
You don’t dare to look his way. “This is how what feels?”
He pauses halfway out the door, facing you one last time, and you force yourself to face him at last. The corners of his lips quirk up into a wistful half smile, one that doesn’t quite meet his eyes at all, and it causes your heart to wrench painfully in your chest.
“To have someone break your heart.”
When he disappears, leaving you sitting in the cramped bathroom all alone, you finally let the dam break and the tears spill out. They fall until your pretty white shirt is completely soaked, but this time, no one is here to lend you their jacket and protect you from the cold because you’re the one with ice in your chest in the first place.
It’s supposed to hurt less when you build up the walls and let no one in, but nobody told you how lonely you’d feel. Nobody told you that you’d have to hold up the weight of the entire world on your shoulders alone. Nobody told you how much it fucking hurts to finally let someone inside your garden, only for the flowers you painstakingly planted to get trampled and the fence you put up to be broken when they left.
It always ends up like this: the heartbreaker and the heartbroken. For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. So when two heartbreakers meet, it is inevitable that two hearts break. You just never knew it would hurt this fucking much when you have to break two hearts instead of one.
When a smaller hurricane meets with a larger tsunami, it continues to spin around and around the bigger force, faster and faster until it’s careening out of control, until it finally dissipates, until nothing is left, except for the mess it made.
So this is how it feels.
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xi. counterpoises.
When two people are too much alike, the scales tip to one side, growing heavier and heavier, until it topples over and the secrets and insecurities spill out like water, soaking and drowning everything in its path. The glass is either half full or half empty until too much is suddenly poured into it, overflowing onto the sides, and you can’t clean it up. You’re struggling to tread water, lost amidst the waves and sea, separated from the one person you care for most because you let him sink in order to swim.
You stand in front of the familiar shop alone, staring up at the blinking neon sign. It feels as if this is the only place left that remains untouched and pristine in the destroyed aftermath. Your friends mean well, but their questions and constant hovering make you feel like you’re trapped and suffocating once more. You give them half lies wrapped in thin veracity, not wanting to create an even bigger ocean. Because once you tell them the truth, once you tell someone about that night, it means that this was different, that this was real. It means confronting that what you and Jeno had—it meant something to you.
You escape to the one place where no one can find you. You take a deep breath before reaching out and pulling open the door, the cute little jingle immediately playing to announce your entrance. The owner smiles at you, recognizing you after nearly four years, and you greet her back, stepping up to the register to buy your usual.
When your order is ready, you carry the drink and basket of fries to the area you had dubbed your little alcove. Crawling into the familiar space, you place your snacks on the wicker tray and sit back, curling your legs underneath you and closing your eyes. The once cozy space now feels too big for you. You hate that you feel like you’re waiting for someone, anticipating the late arrival of someone who will sit next to you and fill the space that you come to realize is perfect for two.
But of course, he doesn’t show. Not when you pushed him away like that.
A heavy weight shifts the pillows next to you, and your eyes snap open, heart leaping in your chest as you immediately look to your right. Your eyes soften when you see Snowball sitting there. He looks at you, large eyes sparkling and tongue lolling out. Your face softens as he nudged his nose against your hand comfortingly, as if he senses your sadness. You throw your arms around him, burying your face in his fur and hugging him tightly, and he nuzzles his snout against your cheek.
“Thank you, Snowball,” you sigh, loosening your arms around him, and he tilts his head, touching his nose against your cheek, before laying down and resting his head in your lap. You smile down at him, placing your hand on his head and patting him tenderly.
“There you are.”
Startled, you look up and see Jaemin. You give him a tight smile. “Jaemin, I’m not in the mood to—”
“Did you know I’ve been shaking this bag of treats in the front for the past five minutes like a complete idiot, and Snowball still didn’t come?” Jaemin interrupts, wildly waving a plastic bag around in the air, filled with homemade canine snacks. “I even researched top quality dog biscuits recipes and checked with the owner to make sure he can eat this. I spent hours baking these, and he rejected me!”
You let out a snort, a small smile appearing on your face. Jaemin huffs in exasperation, pouting. “Here, you might as well take them and give them to him since he clearly doesn’t love me anymore.”
He thrusts the packet of treats at you and turns to walk away. You hesitate before calling out, “Wait.” He faces you with a raised eyebrow, and you swallow hard, tentatively holding up the dog biscuits. “Shouldn’t you at least wait and see if he likes them? You made them for him.”
Jaemin pauses, gauging your reaction silently before deciding, “Okay, I’ll stay. I wanna see if he’ll eat one. Two max because cookies can’t be that good for him.”
You open the bag and pluck out two of the treats, handing one to Jaemin and keeping one for yourself. Jaemin carefully crawls into the space to sit across from you. The white fluffy dog raises its head from your lap to look at him, tail thumping wildly and hitting his leg.
“Hey, buddy, I brought you some snacks I made.” Jaemin reaches out and strokes Snowball, grinning wildly when the dog sniffs and nudges his hand. He extends his other hand, the biscuit resting in his open palm. Immediately, Snowball snatches it, chewing it quickly with another wag of his tail.
You watch him, the ghost of a smile flitting across your face when you notice the pure, unadulterated joy coming from your friend as he exclaims that Snowball likes his treats. You hand over the second treat to him, and he happily feeds it to the overgrown puppy.
You stay quiet for a moment, contemplating before finally asking, “How was volunteering today?”
Jaemin’s face lights up. “It was really good. Andy drew me another drawing.”
“Oh? what’d he draw this time? Another dinosaur?”
“No, an astronaut.” He smiles, eyes twinkling. “He said once he gets better, he’ll take me on a trip to the moon because there are bunnies on the moon and I look like one.”
You chuckle, eyes flickering over his features. He does look like a rabbit in some ways, you note. You hesitate. “Is he getting better?”
“He’s in remission. But the doctors want him to stay just in case still..” Jaemin traces the edge of the throw blanket with his finger, staying quiet for a moment before his shoulders slump. “You know, sometimes, I hate volunteering. It just fucking sucks to see all these kids with so much potential spend their entire lives stuck in a white cell. It just, I don’t know, it just really sucks that I want to help so badly, but I can’t do anything about it. I get these second thoughts about becoming a pediatrician because what’s the point if I can’t help people?”
“That’s not true.” You shake your head, reaching over to place your hand over his. “You’re working your butt off shadowing doctors and studying to help people. You spend extra hours on top of that just visiting all the kids. You help Andy. You helped Chloe, Alex, Sam, literally all of the kids that you spent time with. They absolutely adore you, and you make them happy. And don’t deny it because I’ve seen all the crayon drawings they made for you taped up on your walls. You’re a kind person, and you make people feel loved and cared for, Jaemin.”
A hint of a smile sweeps across his face as he lets your words settle in his heart. He carefully turns his hand over to wrap his fingers around yours, squeezing your hand gently before letting go. A silent thank you.
Jaemin continues to ramble on about his classes after that, and you listen, adding in a few words here and there. You haven’t felt at peace like this in so long. It reminds you of when things weren’t as complicated. It feels like the calm before a storm.
You’re standing in the eye of the hurricane.
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xii. he loves me, she loves me not.
Yeeun and Giselle refuse to let you wallow around in your misery and continue to eat your weight in xxtra flamin’ hot Cheetos as you go in a downward spiral of watching every single episode of every trashy TLC reality show possible for a third week. They love you to death, but there’s only so much they can take of “Say Yes to the Dress” and “Extreme Cheapskates” before they want to smash the television. Your friends force you into a casual, but still cute, little red mini dress and your black boots so you can stomp on the shackles of patriarchy and dumb boys. You reckon it’s time to swap out those artificially bright red cheesy puffs and drink your weight in alcohol tonight instead.
“Okay, we can’t be late, especially since I’m dating the host.” Yeeun ushers you and Giselle towards her car, and you situate yourself into the passenger seat, while your other friend sprawls out in the back.
“I still can’t believe you’re actually dating someone,” you comment, leaning your arm against the door and resting your head in your hand. “Guess we gotta pour one out for all the boys whose hearts you broke with that couple post.”
“You know, I think I saw Chris cry a little in the back of the lab today,” Giselle chimes in, tapping her finger against her chin, and Yeeun laughs, starting up the car and pulling out onto the street, “Oh my god, you guys, that was a one time mistake.”
“A mistake lasting three months. I still can’t believe you called him the wrong name before,” you giggle, and she splutters, hitting the brake pedal a little too hard at the next red light.
“Okay, he didn’t hear me though. My face was in the pillow.”
“Mm, no, he definitely heard you,” Giselle cuts in, “I did a little experiment and pretended to forget his name. I called him Kevin, and he reacted so fast, I thought he was gonna get whiplash.”
“Well, shit.” is all Yeeun can say as you and Giselle start to laugh hysterically. It feels nice to laugh like this again, like you were your old self before feelings got involved and all you cared about was if the cute boy in your Managerial Accounting class was single and ready to mingle (spoiler alert: he was). It feels like everything might be okay again.
“What about you, babe?” Giselle starts, and the casual little pet name strikes a chord in you. “Is tonight only a drunk night or a fuck night?”
“Screw it, let’s go with fuck,” you firmly decide, finally making up your mind and vowing to commit to it, and the girls cheer. “I deserve to get good dick tonight.”
“Hell yeah you do!” Yeeun exclaims, and Giselle nods vigorously in agreement with a fist pump and supportive battlecry. “Jennie would be proud. Fuck boys. Both literally and figuratively. Fuck Jeno for breaking your heart.”
You nod your head wordlessly, choosing to stay silent and not tell her that it was the other way around. Hearing his name leaves a bittersweet taste in your mouth, and you quietly listen as your friends continue to curse out every aspect of the male specimen.
When you arrive at Greek Row, Yeeun is lucky enough to find a nearby parking spot, and the three of you hurriedly make your way to the Gamma Omega Tau house. The signature red cups are already strewn across the front lawn, and you’re pretty sure you see Yangyang vomiting in the bushes as some poor girl pats his back. A beer pong table had been set up out front as well, and when you enter the house, you can still hear Yukhei whooping loudly over Cardi B. advertising her WAP, no doubt winning another game with Jackson.
Yugyeom appears, and you wave Yeeun off when she gives you a worried glance, even giving her a thumbs up before she’s whisked away by her boyfriend. Giselle sighs enviously, looking at them before they disappear in the dancing crowd. “God, sometimes I want a boyfriend so bad, but then, I’m like, ‘Do I actually want one or am I just bored’, you know?”
“Yeah, I get that. It usually goes away the next day once you hook up with someone,” you say, and she hums in agreement. Her eyes scan the room until they land on one boy in particular. “Oh god, Dejun is here.”
You furrow your eyebrows. “What’s wrong with him?”
“He and Karina have some beef going on, and I don’t want to listen to another whole spiel about it.” Her eyes grow bigger when she sees him coming this way. “Okay, yeah, I gotta dip. I’ll be in the pool room. Don’t tell Dejun.”
With that, she nimbly slips her way through the tightly packed bodies and makes her escape. A few seconds later, Dejun shows up by your side. “Hey, wasn’t Giselle just here?”
“Uh, yeah, she needed a drink though.” You clear your throat, hoping he won’t see through your lie. He huffs in exasperation, shoving his hands in his pockets.
“I wanted to talk to her about something. Can you believe that Karina had the audacity to—”
You make sure to thank the heavens for sending you a savior in the form of— you squint your eyes to make out who called out your name from across the room before they widen in surprise—Na Jaemin.
He makes his way over to you, throwing an arm over your shoulder, before he addresses the other boy. “Hey, you don’t mind if I steal her for a bit, right? Thanks, man.”
Jaemin tugs you away before he can protest, and you find yourself in the kitchen, which is surprisingly devoid of anyone. He pours a mix of sodas and cheap whiskey into a cup, offering it to you. You accept it, taking a huge sip of it before wrinkling your nose. The mixers do a poor job of covering up the whiskey, and Jaemin laughs at your reaction, emptying the rest of the alcohol straight into his mouth.
“So what’s up?” You raise the plastic cup in a mock toast towards him before taking another sip. Yep, just as awful as the first taste, but the burning sensation down your throat becomes a little more bearable.
“I just… wanted to check up on you. How are you doing?” he says, tossing the empty bottle into the nearby recycling can. Hey, saving the environment is important, and it’s always good to remember the three R’s: reuse, reduce, and recycle. But make sure not to apply that to all rubbers, of course.
“I’ve… been better, I guess. It’s just one of those days.” You shrug and dump half of the contents of your drink into your mouth.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Jaemin watches you, tilting his head to the side as he finally breaks the silence, and you shake your head, finishing off the rest of your drink. “I came here to not talk about it.”
“Okay.” He pauses before reaching out to lightly touch your elbow. “Do you want to dance with me?”
You don’t say a word, but you reach up and lace your fingers with his, pulling him out to where the bass is pounding the loudest. Now face to face, you pull him even closer, and he places his hands on your hips. It feels foreign, but you shove that feeling away, just like you always do.
“You don’t seem happy,” he notes, leaning forward to speak closer to your ear in order to be heard. His breath tickles the shell of your ear, and you shiver slightly. You can smell faint traces of his cologne, freshly baked cookies, and whiskey.
You redirect the conversation, slipping your arms around his neck. “How’s everything?”
The underlying question is clear to Jaemin. How’s Jeno? He quickly maneuvers you around to avoid Yukhei who has suddenly barraged through the packed living room, like a crazed linebacker. The two of you are pressed up against each other now, and Jaemin looks down at you through his pretty eyelashes, studying your features with a softened gaze.
“He’s… been better. But he’ll live. He’s in the engineering lab right now, working late on his senior project. He’s almost done with his prototype, and—”
You kiss him.
It’s instinctive and impulsive, but something inside you snaps, and you can’t bear to hear him talk about Jeno anymore, so you do the first thing that comes to mind. Jaemin is caught off guard and freezes up for a few moments before he hesitantly kisses you back. His hands squeeze your waist gently before one goes up to cup your face in the exact way you like. But it feels all wrong. You card your fingers through his hair, slot your body against his, and press your lips against his harder and harder, desperate to feel something else, anything else.
But you don’t.
Breathing out your name, Jaemin pulls away from you, pupils blown wide, as he stares down at you, his parted lips red and swollen. He’s a pretty sight to see. A pretty mess, just like you. It’s like one of those Monet paintings that look stunning until you come closer and ruin the masterpiece. You lean forward and attempt to close the distance again because maybe the second time will be a charm, or maybe the third or fourth, but he leans back, shaking his head as his grip on your waist loosens.
“Y/N, Y/N, stop. You're crying.”
His fingers tenderly brush away the tears that have unknowingly fallen and stained your cheeks. You feel the teardrops sliding down now, wetting your skin, and Jaemin silently thinks your eyes still look beautiful, all starry and shining. He pulls you close and lets you cry into his shoulder, and you clutch onto the fabric of his shirt like a lifeline. He tucks you inside his oversized jean jacket, letting you hide from the world and remove the carefully crafted, brave persona you’ve been putting on for the past few days, months, years. You’ve nearly forgotten what the world outside of the fences you’ve built is like.
Pushing his way through the crowd, Jaemin brings you out to the back, hugging your figure to him as the two of you stand on the back porch, the loud music now muffled as are the boisterous shouts and conversations from your peers inside. You press your face into the crook of his neck and let him hold you, enveloping you in a comforting embrace as the tears stream down your face. He holds you for as long as you want—as long as you need.
You want to stay like this forever. But you can’t.
Inhaling sharply, you harshly wipe away the tears with the palms of your hands, no doubt smearing your makeup away, but you can’t care less. Jaemin has already seen you at your lowest before.
“Jaemin, I fucked up.” Your voice cracks. “I’m fucked up.”
“Hey.” He grabs your shoulders gently. “Don’t talk about yourself like that. You’re not fucked up.”
You attempt to give him a watery smile, but end up hiccuping. “But it’s true. I can’t—I don’t know how to stay. I don’t know how to let anyone in. I don’t know how to trust anyone. I don’t know how to be someone capable of being loved. I don’t, I don’t know how to love. I don’t know if I can. But I want to, I want to so badly, but I just—I just can’t. Something is wrong with me.”
“Nothing is wrong with you,” Jaemin says firmly, staring directly into your eyes, and for a moment, you almost believe him. His voice grows quieter. “You’re not fucked up. You are capable of love. You are capable of loving. You wouldn’t be feeling this way if you weren’t. You wouldn’t be out here if you didn’t love him.”
Your eyes waver, and Jaemin gingerly reaches out to cup your face, keeping his steady gaze on you. He feels like an anchor amidst the hurricane, and you hold on tightly, terrified of spiraling away even farther. He holds you together as you fall apart, keeping you from self destruction: the green light on the other side.
“Y/N, you are worthy of being loved. Your family loves you. Your friends love you. Yeeun loves you. Giselle loves you.” Jaemin pauses, hesitating for a few seconds.
“Jeno loves you.” I think I love you.
At the mention of his name, you hate how your eyes start to fill with tears again, and you harshly blink them away. “He shouldn’t. I don’t deserve it.”
“Everyone deserves to be loved.”
You shake your head vehemently in silent protest, curling your hands until your fingernails create small crescent shapes in your palms, until you finally feel something through this numbness even if it’s a little pain. Jaemin reaches out and carefully unfurls your fists, squeezing your hands gently.
“Y/N, you deserve love. You might feel like you’re someone who isn’t worthy of love, but doesn’t that just mean you should try to become someone who you believe is worthy of love?” He smiles softly at you.
“Don’t you want to try?”
Jaemin catches a stray tear that manages to slip through your eyelashes, thumbing it away gingerly. It sparkles under the moonlight, like a diamond in the inky night sky that will always be out of his reach no matter how hard he tries. So this is how it feels to want something—someone—you can’t have, he muses, a foreign feeling settling in his bones, in between the cracks of his rib cage until it curls around his heart like poison ivy. The stars twinkle mirthlessly. They are his silent witness when he finally understands. This is what heartbreak feels like.
You take a breath, inhaling slowly, then exhaling. Jaemin stares at you so earnestly, holds you so delicately, and says those words so fiercely that maybe, just maybe, you start to believe him.
You’re terrified, absolutely petrified. You don’t know if you can ever become that someone. You’re still scared that it’ll hurt, that you’ll lose everything, that you’ll lose yourself if you let yourself love someone, that your worst fear will be confirmed. But you realize that you want to. You want to try. You want to try for yourself.
But you also want to try for Jaemin.
Because he believes in you even when you don't believe in yourself. Because you trust him right now more than you have ever trusted in yourself. Because it’s not as scary when he’s holding your hand. Because he gives you the courage to not be so afraid. And one day, you hope that you’ll be able to prove to him that it wasn’t all for nothing.
You call his name so sweetly, and he’s reminded of a distant memory from sophomore year when you sat across from him at the kitchen table, eyes sparkling and a stack of pancakes nearly toppling over in front of you. That was the first time he made pancakes for someone, other than himself or his friends.
That was the first time he tried.
“Jaemin,” you repeat his name, and he hums in acknowledgment. He waits for you patiently. You draw in a shaky breath. It’s now or never. You have to do this when you have the courage: the courage to stay, the courage to trust, the courage to love, the courage to take the first step.
“I want to try.”
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xiii. plastic hearts can break, too.
[ 4:23 p.m. ] you: can we talk pls?
[ 4:47 p.m. ] catboy 🐈: I’m free after my aerodynamics class
[ 4:48 p.m. ] you: cavanaugh hall in 15?
[ 4:59 p.m. ] catboy 🐈: ok
You wait anxiously, sitting on one of the benches in a more secluded area, and cross your legs, your knee bouncing up and down slightly in trepidation. The vines overhead and trees have already lost all their leaves long ago, leaving empty twigs waving aimlessly in the wind. The chilly air bites your nose, tracing its icy wisps against your cheeks, and you shiver slightly.
Jeno’s figure approaches the area, and you wave awkwardly, catching his attention. He walks over to you, one hand clutching onto the strap of his backpack tightly. Stiffly, he drops his bag on the ground, taking a seat beside you before staring down at his clasped hands.
“Um, hi,” you start, nervousness blooming in your stomach. “How have you been?”
“Fine,” he says shortly, crossing his arms across his chest. He still doesn’t relax, sitting on the edge of the bench with his back straightened. “What did you want to talk about?”
“I kissed Jaemin.”
Your confession hangs in the air, suspended like tiny pieces of glitter in a snowglobe. The boy next to you stiffens up, squeezing his hands into fists, and your mouth goes dry. You lick your lips before continuing, “I’m sorry, it was an impulsive thing, a stupid thing to do, an—”
“I know.”
You stare at him, mouth open. “You… know?”
Jeno slumps in his seat, unfurling his fingers as he turns and finally looks at you for the first time since that night, tired eyes gazing back at you. “I know. Jaemin told me.”
“He told you?” you repeat, still trying to process everything all at once, and he nods. He sits in stony silence until his face crumples, and his voice grows smaller, but you still hear it, your heart cracking a little more.
You hesitate, wavering between every single answer in the book to absolutely nothing at all. Why did you do it? You never thought about it. Sometimes, you just simply do things without determining the consequences. But the underlying reason is there when you dig deep down into the farthest crevice of your soul.
“Because I was scared,” you answer honestly, and this time, he knows you’re telling the truth. Jeno knows you better than anyone else after all. “Because I don’t know what to do when someone loves me. I don’t know what to do when I love someone. When I love you.”
Jeno’s eyes widen at that, and you give him a small smile, pulling at your sleeves to cover your hands. “I’m scared because that means I’m letting you in. I’m scared because I want you to stay. I’m scared because that means you can choose to leave whenever you want to, and I can’t do anything about it.
“So I always choose to leave first. To run away before the other person does. But because of that, I don’t know how to—how to love someone. I didn’t know what it felt like. But then you came along.”
Jeno doesn’t say anything, but you know he’s listening carefully. You pull your legs up to your chest, wrapping your arms around them as you look straight ahead, gazing at the one lone flower that has still managed to survive and bloom on the magnolia tree.
“You were—you were unexpected. You were relentless. You never gave up. You were fearless. You surprised me with your funny texts, your corny pick up lines, your cat pictures, your earnesty, your honesty… You really made it so easy to fall in love with you, Jeno.”
You chuckle quietly, “I didn’t even know I was falling in love with you until it was too late. I didn’t know what to do. I felt like I was suffocating, and I couldn’t stay. I didn’t know how to stay without falling apart. So I ran. I did a bunch of stupid things to pretend that my feelings didn’t exist. If I don’t acknowledge it, then maybe it isn’t there. Maybe it’ll go away.
“But it didn’t. It just grew bigger and forced me to acknowledge it. When I kissed Hyunjin, I wished it was you. God, I wished it was you so badly. Did you know that? But I’m a coward, and I couldn’t face my feelings because I wanted to protect myself.
“Isn’t it so fucked up that we go around breaking other people’s hearts when we’re so afraid of our own being broken?” You laugh humorlessly. “I’m a selfish coward. I didn’t want my heart broken.”
“So you broke mine instead,” Jeno says bitterly, shoving his hands into his pockets, and you nod, the lump in your throat growing bigger.
“Yes, I did. I thought that meant, in some messed up way, that mine was safe. That I wouldn’t be able to get hurt if I pushed you away. That my feelings would go away, and everything would go back to the way it was. So I kissed Jaemin to prove to myself that everything was the same again. But of course, it wasn’t. It never was to begin with. And I ended up breaking not just your heart, but mine, too.”
“I didn’t know what it was like to be in love.” You draw in a quivering breath. “But I also didn’t know what it was like to be heartbroken. All I knew was that it hurt so fucking bad.”
“And all I could think of was you,” you say softly, and his breath hitches in his throat. “I hoped to god that it didn’t hurt this much for you. That’s when I realized I love you.”
“That's what love is, right? Thinking of the other person and putting them before you, being selfless and unafraid, letting someone else hold your heart and trusting them to not break it.” Your eyes water, but you attempt to harshly blink the tears away. You swallow hard. “Jeno, I’m sorry for being selfish. I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry I’m not ready to love you.”
Your eyes fill with unshed tears before you squeeze them shut, inhaling shakily. “But I’m trying. I’m trying so hard to be someone deserving of love, someone I’m proud of—someone I love. I don’t know how long it’ll take… but I’m trying.”
You clasp your hands together, twisting and turning the rings on your fingers, as you bow your head slightly, eyes trained on the golden loops—on the gold chain around your wrist, the tiny initial dangling and catching the faint sunlight. You take a deep breath, exhaling slowly. You don’t expect a response from him, but he carefully reaches out and places his hand over yours, curling his fingers around yours.
“I know,” he answers softly at last. Jeno speaks quietly, barely above a whisper, just for you to hear before the wind scatters his words.
“I believe in you.”
When Jeno leaves, you choose to sit there for a little longer. You are alone, but you no longer feel lonely.
The right person at the wrong time, when someone is ready and someone is not, when you both fall in love a little too hard, a little too fast, and a little too soon, it is still love, is it not? For him, it is love. For you, it is love. Yet sometimes, love on its own isn’t always enough for someone to stay. It slips through your fingers like sand in an hourglass. You can try to pick it up over and over again, but it becomes a relentless cycle of the grains of glass escaping between your desperate grasps, akin to two hands of a clock chasing each other round and round.
In another lifetime, in another universe, where another you and another him exists, perhaps they are in love. In someplace where there was never any fear, never any hurt, never any doubt, never any hesitation, there may be a you and a him who fall in love and stay in love. You hope that’s true. You hope that there’s a happily ever after for you and him somewhere out there—that there’s a time where both of you are ready. It might not be now, it might not be here, but you hope there was, there is, there will be.
In this moment, there is love. There is love, but it is breaking both of your hearts. There is love, but it is time to let go.
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xiv. where flowers bloom, so does hope.
Time is the universe’s greatest healer.
Time allows for you to discover things about yourself that you found difficult to acknowledge in the past, allows for you to examine the mistakes you made, allows for you to grow and flourish as you learn to love these imperfections. You learn to shed the facade you've been cowering behind and become comfortable in your own skin. You create your own fire, instead of relying on another person’s warmth every night. Trials and tribulations dot your personal journey, but you are not alone in carrying the weight any longer as you allow your friends into the garden you painstakingly nurture. They plant seeds that take the place of what was lost and rebuild the broken fence with the addition of a gate, and you join them, sowing some of your own and tending to these flowers until they bloom into something ethereal and beautiful.
Time teaches you how to care for and love yourself, rather than simply exist in this body of yours. Time extends a hand to you, pulling you forward, when you feel yourself slipping back into the steep ways of the past. Time pieces together the broken fragments and glues them back together, making them stronger, making them wiser, making them braver, making them whole, making hearts that are ready to love once more.
Fiddling with the familiar breakfast charm dangling from your phone, you sit on the bench beneath the blooming wisteria vines, gazing at the magnolia tree with all its pretty flowers nearby. The petals all sway in the light breeze, and you admire the pinpricks of sunlight filtering through in between the shade.
“Hey, sorry, I’m late, Professor Chung returned our midterms today, and I stayed back to ask a few questions,” Jaemin says breathlessly, appearing by your side. You smile at him, standing up from your seat and slinging your bag over your shoulder.
“No worries, I was enjoying the view here anyway.” Shoving your phone in your pocket, you take notice of his reddened cheeks, and the corners of your lips quirk into another smile: a teasing one this time. “Did you run here?”
“Well, yeah, I didn’t want to make you wait,” he sheepishly admits, flushing slightly. “Do you wanna drop off your bag at your place before we go?”
“Nah, it’s alright, that’s out of the way, and I’m fine with carrying it.” The two of you start the walk towards your beloved drink shop. Jaemin hesitates before tentatively saying, “My place is on the way. We can drop off our stuff there, but…”
You catch the lingering tone and insinuation as he trails off, and your heart softens when you realize his consideration. Jaemin gnaws on the inside of his cheek, mistaking your silence as his blunder, but then you smile at him, nodding in agreement.
“That’d be great! Is Jeno there? I wanna ask him how his second date went. He seemed really nervous about it, but I really think they’re good together.”
“Wait,” Jaemin chokes, eyes widening as your words finally register in his brain, and he halts. “You know Jeno’s going out with Sei?”
“Of course I know. He’s been texting me for help this entire time.” You pause and turn back when you realize Jaemin is no longer walking side by side with you. “What’s wrong?”
“I just— you and Jeno, I thought—” he splutters, all thoughts flying out of his mind in a whirlwind, before he places his hands on your shoulders, peering into your eyes intently. “Wait, are you okay? How are you feeling? If you want to go print out pictures of Jeno and rip them up, that’s completely valid, and I support you, even if he’s my best friend.”
You laugh at that last sentence before you gently place your hands on top of his, squeezing them lightly. “I’m fine, Jaemin, really. It’s been over three months. Sometimes, things just don’t work out, but we’re both in a better place right now. Even if it means our feelings aren’t the same anymore.”
“But he still sends me cat pics, so that’s all that really matters anyway.” You add on as an afterthought with a small chuckle. Jaemin still searches your eyes for any underlying meaning, but this time, he finds none. Your eyes shine bright, and you give him a reassuring look. He lets go of you with a relieved sigh, resuming the walk with you by his side.
“So does this mean you might want to venture into the scary dating world, too? Find someone to grow old with and have a white picket fence house and three dogs with?” he says jokingly, hoping you don’t pick up the way his heart starts beating faster once the question slips from his mouth.
“Yeah, I do.”
Your honest response catches him off guard, and Jaemin almost stops in his tracks for a second time today, but he catches himself as his breath hitches in his throat.
“Oh? You found someone? Do I know them?” He clears his throat, and you hide a smile.
“You do know them very well actually.”
His heart stutters in his chest, but he steadies his voice. “Ah, is it Renjun? I know you said you had classes with him. Art, right? Or maybe Yukhei? You called him cute before. Or that dude in your finance class, Sungchan? What about—”
“Jaemin,” you cut him off gently before he shakes his head, babbling on, “No, let me guess! Is it that grad student, Eunwoo? Or your TA, Jungko—”
“Jaemin,” you interrupt him again, much more firmly this time, but he still pays no attention, rambling on until you grab his hand. Almost immediately, he shuts up, freezing up on the spot as his eyes zero in on your fingers wrapped around his.
“You’re holding my hand.” His voice is barely above a whisper as he stares at your interlocked hands in awe. His head whips up to look at you, eyes filled with childlike wonder. “Why are you holding my hand?”
“Because…” You hesitate, your heart seizing up in your chest. Standing here on the line between love and friendship, you tremble. Fright and courage both run in your veins, and your first instinct may be to run, but your second instinct is to stay. Your final instinct is to take the leap. You’re not quite ready to take the big jump this time. For now, it’s a small one, but you take it.
“Because I like you.”
His heart stutters in his chest, and Jaemin’s eyes grow wide, jaw becoming slack. “You like me? As in like-like me?”
“I like-like you. A lot.” You give him a timid smile. “I think I've always liked you, maybe since freshman year, but it took me this long to figure it out. But Jaemin, I really, really like you.”
He’s speechless, and you bite your bottom lip as you wait for him to respond. The bundle of nerves grows in your stomach until you can’t keep quiet anymore, piping up nervously, “So, um, will you go on a date with me?”
“Yes,” he breathes out. His eyes search yours, and it seems like he found his answer. Heart pounding in his chest, Jaemin laughs a little breathlessly in disbelief, replaying your confession in his head over and over again. You like him. You like him back. He wants to shout it from the rooftops and wear his heart on his sleeve, shirt, pants, heck, even his socks, just simply everywhere.
“So… does this mean I can take you on dates and hold your hand again and kiss you whenever I want, and you’ll call me yours?”
He fails to suppress the smile growing on his face, and your own face grows warm at his bold question, but you confirm it with a shy nod. He pulls you into his chest, unable to hold back any longer, wrapping his arms around you tightly because he finally can. You slip your arms around his neck, embracing him as you bury your face in the crook of his neck, lips quirking up into a smile of relief and happiness.
So this is how it feels to want someone and to be wanted, he muses, a foreign but welcomed feeling settling in his bones, in between the cracks of his rib cage until it blossoms around his heart like a garden in spring. This is how it feels to be yours.
And this is how it feels to be his. This is how it feels to accept love. You decide that it’s a rather pleasant feeling, one that’s not at all scary—never when it comes to Jaemin.
“Say it again please. Say you like me,” he murmurs, just to make sure he isn’t dreaming. You tilt your head up slightly to meet his gaze, reaching up and interlocking your fingers behind his neck as you proudly proclaim:
“Na Jaemin, I like you so fucking much, pancake ass and all.”
Laughing gleefully, Jaemin beams at you, eyes crinkling in the corners and positively sparkling. “You know what? Just this once, I’ll let that booty comment slide.”
“Because you know it’s true.”
“It’s not!”
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xv. breakfast at tiffany’s jaemin’s.
“This is my secret pancake recipe, and only you and I know it, so you have to guard it with your life.”
You’re standing in front of the stove, one of Jaemin’s old T-shirts draped over your figure, the long hem barely letting the borrowed pair of boxers you’re wearing peek out from underneath it. Holding the spatula in one hand and grasping the frying pan’s handle in the other, you wait patiently for the pancake to cook as Jaemin hovers around you, gripping onto the empty batter bowl.
“I solemnly swear on your pancake booty that I won’t tell a soul about your recipe. Not even Giselle, who’s been trying to bribe me with green tea Kit Kat’s and boba for the past few months.”
Letting go of the pan’s handle, you playfully swat his behind for good measure as he turns to put the bowl in the sink. Whipping back to face you, he scowls, stomping his feet childishly as he whines, “My butt is not flat! It’s small, but it’s there!”
“You’re right, I’m sorry, your butt gives Kim Kardashian a run for her money,” you concede, and he laughs loudly, satisfied with your response. Jaemin wraps his arms around you, his hand enveloping yours as he helps you expertly flick the pan to flip the pancake. Your little gasp of excitement when it lands perfectly has him breaking out into a grin, and he nuzzles his nose against your hair before resting his chin on your shoulder.
“Tomorrow morning, I’m cashing in on that waffles offer you gave me. And I expect the full culinary experience. I’m talking about having your hand on my hand and helping me whisk the batter and crack eggs, and you have to kiss me all the time because my apron says so.”
You burst out laughing, and he sulks for a moment until you finally agree. This is the happiest you have ever felt. You turn your face slightly to look at him, eyes gleaming like all the stars from that fated night, and Jaemin smiles back at you, leaning over to press his lips against yours tenderly. Your heart beats faster than ever and louder than ever, but you aren’t as scared as you were six months ago.
Falling in love isn’t as terrifying as you thought anymore. Not when you’re not alone. Not when someone is there to catch you. Not when it’s with Jaemin. After all this time, he’s still the one who believes in you, the one who patiently waited, the one who selflessly stayed, the one who fiercely loves. With him, you never had to pretend. He’s seen you at your lowest and your highest, your best and your worst, the good and the bad. You’ve bared every single ugly, vulnerable side of yours to him.
And yet, he chose to stay. He stayed from the beginning, and he’ll stay until the end. He chose to love you. He chose you. There are over seven billion people on earth, and you know that they don’t all have to want you, to love you, but you managed to find someone who does. You found someone who wants you, someone who loves you: someone you love in return.
Love is not a feeling; love is a choice. Feelings are fleeting and ever-changing, but you will always choose Jaemin. Because that’s love. It is choosing to push through the adversaries and hardships together, rather than taking the easier route and walking away. It is choosing each other yesterday, today, tomorrow, and for all the days of your lives. It is choosing to stay. It is choosing to try.
And everyday, you want to try for him and for you. Because that’s what you do when you love someone—whether it be yourself or someone else. You try everyday to become a better person: to become someone who loves and is loved. It’s a long journey ahead, but he believes in you. You believe in you. And one day, you’ll be ready to say those three little words to him.
But for now, for you and for him, this is enough.
The green light at the end of the road, the anchor in the middle of a hurricane, the glimmer of hope that bursts into bright flames, you are no longer afraid. He makes you feel safe, invincible, and even if nothing else is certain and the world is ending, you know you’ll be okay with him by your side. Because you’ve found your way home.
Home. They say that is where the heart is, and you’ve given yours entirely to Jaemin. You feel at home when you’re with him, and that thought alone makes flowers bloom in your chest.
So this is how it feels.
So this is love.
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Y/N’s unofficial guide on how to be the best girlfriend:
1. have fun. 2. never forget to cuddle when you stay the night. 3. kisses in exchange for pancakes is always a good deal. 4. hook up with your boyfriend once (and many more times afterwards, but who’s counting?). 5. fall in love with a boy named Na Jaemin.
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author’s note :: this is the true ending i had in mind, but for an alternate ending: pussy (un)blocked, please go back to where flowers bloom ♡
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leejenos · 8 months ago
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just nomin things
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markresonates · 4 months ago
I heard a rumor
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Summary: You hate that the new camp counselor you’re bunking with is Jeno, the “bad boy” that was rumored to have cheated on your best friend in high school. He doesn’t want to room with you either, believing the rumor that you started the rumor that fueled his (fake) cold, heartless reputation. But somehow, everything changes over the summer. 
Pairing: college/enemy au!Jeno x fem!reader    
[Other- roomies: Renjun, Donghyuck, Jaemin]
Genre:  porn w/ plot, angst, eventual heavy fluff, enemies to lovers
Word count:  8.4k
a/n: this was supposed to be for my milestone event with the song “Vertigo” by Derik Fein but I’m on a massive Jeno kick right now & it would be impossible to make it less than 900 words thank you to the anon who requested it!
warning: rough sex, unprotected sex (use protection irl !), dirty talk, oral (male and female), throat f&cking, use of “good girl” a lot , fingering, mentions of masturbation, brief drinking, tiny verbal non-graphic sexual harassment, jealousy, aftercare, hard dom!Jeno, sub!reader
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snippet: The mere possibility of an intimate moment between you two in the small, cramped space, beckons a dizzy, timid vertigo. He fails to recall the exact moment he developed feelings for you, but as of late, your touch has been intoxicating, your skin getting him drunk with insatiable desire. That’s not how it used to be though.
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Month 1
“Why do you get the only real bed in the cabin?” you complain to Jeno as he hops on the new mattress.
It was absolutely ridiculous that the newest counselor got an actual bed while you and your other friends, Renjun, Hyuck and Jaemin, have to share bunk beds. 
“The director told me I get this bed because I’m head counselor,” Jeno shrugs. Your whiny tone reveals your extreme frustration with the favoritism he’s  already received his first day on the job. He smiles back to you, curious about how quickly he can get your blood to boil.
“Co-head. You’re co-head counselor. We share the title, okay?” 
“Huh, that’s interesting, because the director gave me the keys to every door in the camp. Did you get a set of keys, y/n?” Jeno baits, awaiting your outburst. Your ears burn as you spot a glint of amusement in his eyes.
It’s impossible to ignore how excruciatingly more handsome he’s grown since graduation, and even harder to suppress the fluttering in your body.  Curse the universe for gracing him with good looks and perfect body proportions. Girls must throw themselves at his feet for how hot he is. But you are no such girl.
Being the only other person in the room, Renjun steps in to mediate the heated dispute. He blocks Jeno from your line of sight, knowing there’s nothing he can say to help the current situation. His scrunched-up face gives away how irritated he is having to play referee for a game he never signed up. You certainly didn’t volunteer to be varsity captain for “team loyalty” this summer, but there’s no way you’re going to forfeit and forgive a player like him so easily. He was unofficially awarded MVP (Most Volatile Player) in high school for what he did.
In attempts to calm yourself, you take a few deep breaths at the implied instruction of his changing facial expressions. You might have been the one to lose your cool a bit, but in your defense, you wholeheartedly believe he is hot headed, untrustworthy, and shouldn’t be here. 
You recall the numerous pained instances of your best friend, Yeeun, crying on your shoulder during junior year. When rumors spread that he was involved with another girl, she heard him out, nearly mending their relationship… until the pictures leaked. No one could see his face but this one girl that flirted with him all the time gave confirmation to everybody that that was him in those pictures with her. She pointed out tiny details in the pictures, like his hair style is the same and he has that exact same birthmark on his back. It just made sense. Naturally, word (and the pictures) spread like wildfire and their relationship went up in flames. 
He was avid in defending himself, insisting how they were lies spread by that one girl to get back at him for turning her down. Then came the rumors he was cruel, short tempered, and would lash out at more girls he was involved with. 
The damage was already done. The evidence was basically indisputable. Everyone and their mom had heard the rumors and passed judgement on him. He was ostracized, lost all his friends and virtually became a recluse. A tiny,  microscopic part of you felt sorry for him. But ultimately, your mind has an internalized loyalty to your friend, standing in the way of any possible reconciliation between you two.
 “You can’t be trusted and hiring you was a mistake. And by the end of the summer, everyone will agree with me. You don’t deserve shit after what you did in high school,” you snarl on your way out the door, words cold enough to give Jeno frostbite. Only Renjun spots Jeno grimace at your comeback, a flickering sliver of stinging disappointment lying beneath his eyes. 
He had every intention of rebuking your snide remark with something equally as devastating but you’re already out of ear shot to hear his comeback.
Of all Yeeun’s friends, you used to be his favorite; not quite friends yourselves, more like friend-in-law. The thing is he was 99% sure you were the one to convince Yeeun to freeze him out. Now those rumors, those same stupid fucking RUMORS, were going to taint his reputation all over again. Couldn’t you just move on? 
Whoever said high school would be the best days of your life, obviously got their education long before the age of the internet.
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Mr. High-blood-pressure gives you some advice before the kids arrive next week. Renjun tells you to keep your distance and distract yourself with working towards obtaining your own set of keys. 
If you want to show the director you are hardworking and dependable enough to deserve more responsibility than Jeno around the camp, you need to put yourself to work. Immerse yourself in the planning. Become one with the instructing. Or something like that.
And if you ever need a break, you are always welcome to join him in the art studio. He also convinces you that spreading rumors is immature. If an individual intends to grow and discover themselves, they need to start the process of letting petty things go. Naturally, you have to tell Hyuck though. Well, it’s more like he squeezes it out of you because he loves drama (and so do you honestly)
At the start, you expect that his advice is easier said than done. You’re supposed to be managing the camp activities and counselors together. And you do sleep in the same room after all. You doubt things will work out as easily as Renjun believes, until Jeno decides to put himself in charge of all things sports and outdoor activity related. You don’t mind that he takes initiative in appointing himself head counselor without consulting you beforehand. Not that you don’t want to participate in those outdoor/sports things, but you can live without them for a while.
You mostly take care of the organization for specialty events, like booking magicians, face painting, scheduling the days where the jolly jumps were set up, and planning fun field trips. Some of the best days were the ones when the counselors would take the campers on the 2-mile-long trail to the lake.
As for the “breathing the same air” part of the equation, that isn’t a big problem either. Jeno and Jaemin stick together like glue. Of course, not seeing Jaemin much during the day means not being in a single photograph on the camp blog but there’s pros and cons for everything in life. And like every other counselor of the camp, their schedules are proofread, printed out and posted on the bulletin board of daily duties you created to compose order. This also allows you to track the areas to steer clear of.
You barely say five words to him since your unhappy reunion. You feel his scowl every once and awhile, but that’s as much interaction as you have with him on the regular. When you wake up, no matter how early, he’s always absent. You suppose he’s exercising or something, though, to be honest, you don’t care where he goes. As long as it’s far away from you. 
This strategy is sufficient enough to get you through the first two weeks of official camp, until the bus for the field trips brakes down. Luckily, there’s a spare bus; a much dingier, decrepit, dirty one that needs to be cleaned out before it can be used for tomorrow’s field trip. 
Renjun and Hyuck help you clean for a while, but you kick them out when they start their domestic, petty bickering over literally nothing and cannot be productive. They simply get in the way. You hold down the fort of cleaning duties for the next 45 minutes or so, before a surprising, unwanted guest disturbs the peace.
“Jeno? Why are you here… I can do this by myself.” you yell across the large bus barn, hearing your shrill voice echo off the walls.
He simply ignores your assertion, going about cleaning the piles of stuff you have yet to get to. An uncomfortable static hangs in the dusty air, and you feel your skin crawl from the occasional glare he throws your way. Nevertheless, with his aid, the clutter is cleared out in no time at all. Exiting the bus barn, you’re both confronted with the reality that it’s pitch black dark outside. You didn’t realize you had been working so late into the night.
The unfortunate lack of cell service and unusually thick nightly fog puts you and Jeno at a disadvantage. Bright moon beams penetrate the tree branches towering over the trail that tracks back to the cabin. The patches of light from above illuminate a silver hue within the blanket of mist, giving cover to whatever creature (or serial killer) that might be lurking in the shadows.
To mention you’re afraid of the dark would bash your pride, too embarrassing to admit, especially to Jeno. Despite this tentativeness, you move closer to him. Your hands sporadically brush by “accident.” Little did you know he’s intentionally brushing your hands together, and silently cursing himself for imagining you hands on a particular part of his body. 
A few thoughts circle around in his-
He’s feeling turned on by touching any tiny part of you is just lust because he hasn’t had sex in awhile. It has absolutely nothing to do with who he’s imagining on top of him
You’re only half way through the forest when potential deadly misfortune strikes. You would testify in court that the dark has it out for you, tripping over an unseen tree branch that is protruding unusually high from the ground. And just your luck... you twist your ankle. Crying out in pain, you stumble, tripping in the direction that will have you hurtling over the edge of the trail’s cliff to your death… when miraculously, Jeno catches your arm and pulls you to his chest. That’s not the only part of your body his hand clamps down on to save your life. 
Pulling you into his embrace, his hand momentarily cups your ass. His fingers tightly squeeze down but he removes his hand immediately. Now, you’re nearly nose to nose. Panicking from the encroachment into your personal space, you flinch to put physical distance between you and him but, of course, the foot you step back on is the twisted one. You wince, prompting him to grab your arm again, stabilizing you and avoiding the perilous accident for a second time. He holds your gaze and you’re shamefully entranced by his stare. 
Why does it feel like he’s staring into your soul like that utterly ridiculous expression people say? Fuck his mystifying eyes and his perfect body proportions that your certainly have never noticed.
(That’s such a lie, it’s been lingering in your mind for a considerable amount of time since you first laid eyes on him again a few weeks ago)
“Just get on my back, y/n,” he offers without second thought, not even because he wants to feel your touch. “Seriously, You’re hurt... don’t think about it too much.”
You cave and accept his chivalrous gesture. The whole ride back, you’re thinking about one thing wayyy too much. you’re riding his back. B-A-C-K. Don’t think about the other kind of riding, seriously.
(Which only makes you imagine the other kind of riding him)
Your frame wraps around his body so naturally. Like you fit together so well.
Wait, wait, wait, no that’s insane. 
Maybe the near death experience makes you feel a momentary gratitude in the form of attraction? Uhhhhh like the one iCarly episode, where Freddie gets hit by a taco truck to save Carly’s life... that must be it.
And, also why is he being so nice to you right now?? Doesn't he still hate how you threatened to tell everyone about his reputation in high school? Maybe like Renjun said, mature people let petty high school drama go?
You try to come to your senses, reminding yourself he’s supposed to be the bane of your existence as images of Yeeun crying over him flood your mind halfway through the woods on your journey back to the cabin. 
It’s true you haven’t talked to her in years, growing apart since you went to different colleges, now. Still, you are adamant that Jeno doesn’t deserve forgiveness based on principle, alone. You stiffen uncomfortably, something Jeno notices as your grip on his body changes, but doesn’t pressure you to talk about. At the very least, he gets to hold you for a while, but again it’s only because he’s horny! it has NOTHING to do with it being YOU who clings to him.
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Month 2:
The felicitous weather prompts your whimsical decision to plan a last minute lake day for the main counselors of the camp. Every division of the camp has one main counselor that directs that specific branch of activities. For example, Renjun is the main counselor of the art division. 
You quickly orchestrated a movie marathon today for the campers, meaning the other counselors won’t have to do very much while you’re all away. Your roommates meet you there to set up the snacks and floaties. Hyuck gets a keg dropped off?? You help him set it up by the water, not too close to get wet but just close enough for people to refill their cups on the beach.
For some reason, Jeno increasingly notices Hyuck’s flirty remarks with you. It’s this frisky, playful banter back and forth with you that always makes you roll your eyes, but eventually, you play along. You always play along. It’s downright annoying. Annoying that Hyuck flirts with you, and even more annoying that Jeno can’t ignore it on the daily. 
Due to this weird, unwanted feeling inside him as of late, he entertains the idea of flirting with every girl that approaches him; and that’s a considerable amount of girls. He’s been using this strategy for some strange reason for about a week now. At this lake kickback, five girls hang around him all afternoon. 
It’s just lust that he feels around you, right? So it doesn’t matter what he does in front of you.
You eventually take notice of this and devise a plan of your own. Making your way back to your cabin, you still can’t decipher your basis for wanting to change your attire. You know for sure that you’re going to attract more attention than him. Maybe that's what you’re aiming for? 
Or maybe you want the attention of one specific person...
Back at the cabin, you grab the one swim suit you were extra doubtful you would get the chance to utilize this summer. You retrieve what you believe to be “fitting” for the occasion: a glitzy, skimpy, very revealing golden bikini. 
Is it so crazy to desire being tempting and show off you’re hotter than all the girls that flirt with him constantly for at least one afternoon? Maybe. 
Perhaps it is audacious, but all you know is that you deserve to feel confident and sexy sometimes. 
**Ladies!! especially if you want to put things like that on just to feel amazing and sexy for yourself!!**
Basking in the rays of bronze sunlight, you pretend to not sense Jeno’s gaze concentrated on you. You squeeze some sunscreen into the palm of your hand, then take special care to slowly rub the pearly liquid over every region of your body, puffing out your chest when you apply it around your breasts, and bending over 150° to reach your legs. Peering his way multiple times during the process, you catch him swiftly averting his eyes and flit to anything in his remote proximity unconvincingly, earning a satisfied grin from you every time. And the grin only widens noticing the strained outline of his erection in his swim trunks.
For what has to be the fifth time you twist your head around, he doesn’t look away, only holding your gaze for a handful of seconds before a perky, obnoxious girl steps in the way, cutting off his line of sight. You turn away, seeing him pull away from the huddle of his little fan club, making the excuse he’s going over to to refill his empty red solo cup. 
Walking along the shoreline, pretending there’s a legitimate reason for his departure from the desperate girls, he just so happens to stop in front of your towel, blocking your sprawled out body from the sun. 
“Can I help you?” you snap, looking up at him with indignation.
“Yeah, do you think I could use some of your screen, y/n?” he asks, tantalizingly polite.
“Wh- Jeno, you’re not even swimming.”
“Says who?” he replies while tugging his shirt over his head and throwing it next to you. He picks up and pops open the bottle you left at the end of the towel without further consultation. 
You roll your eyes, putting great effort into not falling for his trap of gawking at his body when he mimics your actions from earlier at triple speed. It’s extremely difficult to not sneak a peek, and despite your efforts, he catches you in the act three or four times. 
In all fairness, anyone would find the task of not looking at his wide, muscular chest, washboard abs, and perfectly sculpted figure incredibly tough, too. If you didn’t know Jeno, and someone told you he was an underwear model for Armani, you would believe them without a doubt. And from this angle, he gives you a front row seat to his bulging hard-on, not leaving much up to imagination by how vividly you see every inch of his length. 
It’s impossible to not think about how good he would feel deep inside you, and he knows it. 
“Did you get wet already?” he motions over to the water, as if swimming is the kind of wet he’s referring to. Before you even think of a response, he’s jogging away, running up the stairs of the wooden dock, and diving headfirst into the lake. 
Maybe it was in a different place than what you recall, but you don’t see the birthmark you saw in those pictures in high school.
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Month 3:
The cabin is constantly filled with music. And you don’t mind in the slightest. 
You’ve grown accustom to the random harmonies from Hyuck and Renjun, and find out late in the summer that the guitar you’ve been hearing every so often... has actually been Jeno playing. 
At first you think wow a bad boy that plays guitar- that’s pretty cliché, honestly.
But the melodies were soft and sincere, the type of tone you wouldn’t expect from a “bad boy.” 
It’s frustrating that you’ve grown especially fond of his guitar playing over all other music in the cabin. Sometimes, you stop whatever you’re busy with just to admire the beautiful music while he’s perched directly outside the cabin; but most of the time, he’s sitting outside somewhere he believes he’s completely alone and can play in peace. Because part of your job is surveying the camp grounds (or looking for missing children who wandered off) you sometimes accidentally stumble upon him. There have been times when it feels like you’ve fallen hostage to the calming melody of his playing, or the charming humming of this one tune specifically on repeat.
Fascinating how opinions and perspectives can change so quickly. Yes, it’s annoying when he teases you (not like you don’t love attention) but you also begin to notice the little things about him, the little quirks you wish you could ignore but capture your attention regardless if you fully acknowledge them. 
He scrunches up his shoulders when he laughs; he’s unexpectedly easy going and smiley; he’s considerate and soft; he’s unintentionally humorous, despite his friends teasing him about not being comical in any sense of the word. In other words, he’s nothing like what you pegged him to be in high school.
Unbeknownst to you, he’s been noticing your behavior with him change too. It’s not just lust and resentment between you two, and maybe it hasn’t been that way for a while now. Maybe you both fell into this routine of irritating and mistrusting each other and it became so natural and normative, that even though you didn’t feel that way anymore, it was too difficult to change your ways.
He has a hunch you might possibly, maybe, by some chance feel some ounce of the same feelings he has for you. But to get his hopes up only to be crushed by his immense crush? He’s not looking forward to heart break but he can’t shy away from taking a chance on your heart.
You rack your brain for solutions to this internal conflict but you keep coming up blank. Feeling stuck between a rock and a hard place, you decide to call Yeeun out of the blue and talk to her about it. 
And you can't believe her words:
Jeno didn’t cheat. 
That girl who flirted with him all the time in high school was exposed when the guy who was actually with her in those pictures came forward.
“Everyone found out our freshmen year of uni… I thought someone would’ve told you though?”
so this means...
You’ve spent nearly an entire season holding something against him... that he never even did.
The woods are typically very quiet. So imagine your surprise when you find +200 people gathered around a big campfire in one of the wide clearings routinely designated for sport activities. 
Hyuck swears up and down that he initially invited a handful of close friends for a small, casual kickback. As if he didn’t mean to throw a party. It just happened. But it’s too easy to see through his blatant lie. The fact that he appears to be a routine customer for whoever hooked him up with a dozen beer kegs placed around the fire, begs to differ.
Renjun retrieves two cups of decent tasting beer and you two sway along to overplayed indie music. It’s nice to just relax and vibe at the moment, not fretting over your usual responsibilities. The alcohol goes to your head a tiny bit, the buzz very faint but present, nonetheless. 
You spot Jaemin on the very edge of the party’s perimeter with a tired, dreary look in his eyes. “Hey, I think I’m gonna go over to Jaemin. I know how much he hates being at big things like this,” you attempt to yell in Renjun’s ear over the newest popular mumble rap song blaring through the air. He nods and goes to find Hyuck in your stead.
Stepping away from the cluster of people near the fire, you make your way over to your introverted friend when this one tall, muscular guy cuts you off. 
“Heyyy, have we met before? Ahhh, I take it back, I would’ve remembered a hot babe like you,” he mutters, slurring his words. He has terribly box-dyed blond hair, and sports a short sleeve, white t-shirt (that’s obviously too small for him) with Greek lettering of the frat you assume he belongs to. To top it all off, he’s wearing knockoff, cracked Ray-Ban sunglasses on his head.
Ughhhhh you really hoped to escape encounters like these for at least a few months. You needed a break from the college house-party scene, like those ragers that one popular guy, Jackson Wang had all the time. Your idea of fun has never consisted of sleazy fuck boys hitting on you with the end game of getting into your pants. 
“Hi, umm, I’m meeting a guy over there. But it was nice meeting you, though,” you reply, possibly too curt for his liking. Setting your sights on Jaemin again, you move to walk past him. You don’t make it very far before he roughly grabs your upper arm, stopping you in your tracks. Wow, what you wouldn’t do to dispose of his hand on you by shoving it down a garbage disposal. And being on the perimeter of the rowdy gathering doesn’t help the situation you find yourself in.
“Now, where do you think you’re going, huh? I thought I felt a connection with you,” he pressures. He reeks of hard alcohol he must’ve brought himself. His eyes sweep up and down your body, predatory like. “Is he your boyfriend or something? Do you have a boyfriend, babe?” 
Since you arrived, you hadn’t noticed Jeno protectively shadowing you. He's been telling himself he’s hanging around close to you because you’re tipsy and he needs to make sure nothing happens to you. That’s what friends do, and he’d say you’re kind of friends now, right? Your relationship as friends has some gray areas in it… like if you were even really friends or not.
Truthfully, his inexplicable, insufferable crush on you made him want to be close to you in any way possible, but he was hesitant to do so tonight, unsure of how to act around you anymore. Despite the vague closeness between you two, something like this warranted him to get close to you and interject himself into the situation. 
“Why a matter of fact, she does,” Jeno proclaims, then with no delay, takes, arguably, the biggest risk he’s ever taken in his life. You look to him quickly, over the moon he is holding your hand at the moment, when he leans in... and kisses you. 
It’s only a peck. A simple, tiny peck that feels like Hyuck bought fireworks along with the beer, and set them off at this very second. You see stars behind your eyelids and an intense pinching in your abdomen. 
Why did you feel this way so suddenly??
“Who the f-fuck are you?” the frat douche spits out. Jeno swivels his head back to jerk in front of him and confidently states, “I’m the ‘babe’s’ boyfriend, okay? Common let’s go, y/n.” 
From a mile away, anyone could tell he was getting angry. For what reason? Only an angry, pathetic frat boy could answer that one. 
Toxic masculinity is a plague that infects the weakest of men. 
Maybe he’s hurt that he couldn’t pressure an intoxicated girl into doing something with him, but his fist was itching for a target and Jeno’s pretty face was painted with red and white circles. Out of the corner of his eye, midturn, Jeno sees the frat asshole wind his fist up and throw a punch.
One might conclude Jeno’s strong build and black on black attire obviously meant he was tough and combative; undoubtedly, he was always looking for fight. Even if he wasn’t the one to incite an altercation, a violent response of any sort from him would only give confirmation to the reputation that’s followed him everywhere since high school. It wouldn't matter in the slightest if he was protecting you or not. 
He may have wanted to hit him, but what would that do? Only prove some of those old rumors were true. And your opinion of him has never mattered more than this very moment. 
He’s sick of those rumors hanging onto him like the stench of alcohol and shit that stuck to the guy throwing the punch his way.
So, he sidesteps, the adrenaline giving him the power to move faster than lightning, pulling you close to him, like the time you twisted your ankle. Although this time, you didn’t panic. 
The walking pile of trash faceplants into a tree with pained a grunt, knocking himself out. 
It would be such a shame for him to have a concussion, because it seems like he doesn’t have many brain cells in the first place, you think.
“Hey jump on my back. Let’s go home, babe,” Jeno offers, mimicking the way that guy said “babe.” 
The way he calls you babe, no matter what the context, makes you tingle in certain places. You don’t hesitate to take him up on his offer, hopping on his back exactly like that one night yet again. Your heart skips a beat hearing him call the place you all live together “home.” Like you’re a family, and you mean a lot to him.
Dear God, do you pray he doesn’t think of you like a sister. 
On the trail back “home” you pretend to fall asleep, preventing yourself from saying, or confessing, something you might regret. Something you’re still holding back from admitting to yourself. There is no way in hell that you’re tipsy enough to have imagined all that.
He doesn’t think you’re listening when he sincerely whispers, “I would do anything for you, babe.”
This time, babe rolls off his tongue smooth and sweet like honey, and you can’t help but develop an unquenchable thirst.
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last week of camp:
“Why do you need my help shaving though? You suddenly forget or something?” you counter, playfully.
“I have a job interview later and it would be embarrassing to show up with a little cut around my jaw. I swear I always cut it right there,” Jeno explains. “And all the guys are busy with their own camp duties until this evening.”
In his defense, it wasn’t a total lie. He does have a job interview (even though it’s tomorrow) and he does cut himself around that area quite often. With a little extra effort, he could manage on his own. Instead, he’s dedicating his efforts into coaxing you to help him shave. 
“What, like you don’t have a job right now?” you tease, pretending Summer, and this job, would last forever like you so desperately wish it would.
“Camp is over next week, then we’ll all be jobless, you know that. Come on, it’s only a little patch,” he adds with adorable puppy dog eyes. Even if he mostly avoids doing cutesy faces, he’d do it for you in a heartbeat. “Please, y/n?”
“Okaayyy,” you dramatically roll your eyes, feigning annoyance. “but only because you begged.”
A tiny bolt of electricity shoots through his veins hearing you mention begging. He can’t put into words how much he wishes you would be the one begging him in a different context. He blinks and imagines lewd images of you two doing behind his eyelids. The mere possibility of an intimate moment between you two in the small, cramped space beckons a dizzy, timid vertigo. Your touch is intoxicating, your skin gets him drunk with insatiable desire, far more wasted than that guy at the party.
Your own giddy, eagerness to finally have a valid reason to penetrate his personal bubble urges you to grab his wrist and lead him to the cramped bathroom of the cabin, intent on beginning the process immediately (or in other words, being extremely close to him asap). 
Wait, seriously… when did you start feeling this way about Jeno?? 
He’s been flickering through your mind more and more, nearly driving you delirious with its intense frequency. But after the party, he’s all you can think about. 
When he said he would do anything for you... did he really mean it?
Before he knows it, he’s perched on the toilet seat lid and you’re crouching a bit with a can of shaving cream and a razor at hand. You feel inclined to lean down closer to him. He’s never had the luxury of being able to count every last beauty mark on your face until this very moment.
“Besides looking for a job, do you have anything else planned?” you inquire, praying that your breath doesn’t smell and ruin the likely once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to be this close to Jeno. Maybe the last opportunity until next Summer... if he even takes this job up again.
“A-actually, yeah. I’m transferring universities.” he replies, trying his best to maintain his cool composure. “I’m starting at ____ university in the fall.”
“Oh my god… that’s… my university,” you gasp. Your heart is beating so rapidly that you wouldn't be surprised if he could hear the rabid thumping in your chest. 
“Uhhh, that’s just-just crazy… I guess we’ll be seeing each other a lot more than we thought, right?” Jeno stammers, averting his eyes anxiously at the thought of seeing you longer than he ever expected in his wildest dreams. Does this change things? More importantly... do you think this changes things? 
“Yeah… I guess we will be.”
Is this fate or something? 
Nah... absolutely not... there’s no way. You don’t believe in fate. That’s for hopeless romantics, whereas you credit yourself as a sensible person. 
The way you crouch fails to provide an advantageous perspective to his jaw, so you make a reckless decision. Flushing all reservations of continually holding back, a fluttery, unwavering calling in the pit of your stomach persuades you to swing your leg over his thighs, straddling his lap and quirking your head even nearer. 
His eyes drift down your cute, concentrated face, from your furrowed brow, your focused eyes, and settling on your glistening, parted lips.
You lick your bottom lip and inhale sharply in preparation for a bold, painful confession and an even more pained, difficult apology.
"Uhhh, Jeno... I'm sorry for partially playing a role with the rumors in high school. I was so stupid for believing those lies... and so fucking stupid for still believing that shit this summer. I'm sincerely so sor-"
"It's in the past, y'n. You have nothing to apologize for anymore," Jeno says softly.
"Um, okay. Well, I-I'm really glad," you reply even quietly.
Your mouth is so close, it seduces him like a siren to a sailor, suddenly drowning in the thought of anchoring his mouth to yours, at last satisfying his tragically undeniable craving for your taste. The craving he’s been suppressing for months on end, subconsciously enduring until you were nearly running out of time with each other at the close of the season. With this new realization you won’t be separated, you have a chance to be together. Together in every single way. And even if you might not think this changes things, he feels too strongly that it does, leaving him no choice but to tell you.
Now, it’s Jeno’s turn to be bold; so here it goes...
“I-I have feelings for you, y/n… I can’t hide that from you anymore,” he confesses with sincerity. “Fuck, you’re just so beautiful, a-and I think I started falling for you months ago...I just didn’t want to admit it.”
You pause mid-razer stroke, breath hitching in the back of your throat as you attempt to grapple with his newly announced affections. Your gaze flicks from his jaw to his eyes where you see a genuine, kind glow, yet not missing the faint hunger swirling beneath them. 
You’re not the type of person whose mind goes blank upon hearing groundbreaking news such as this. You’re strangled by the overthinking of your racing mind.
You reflect on your deep seated qualms from his vocal acknowledgment. Any miniscule ounce of hesitation remaining in your veins dissolves like cotton candy dropped in water. He’s the reason behind your elation, excitement and overwhelming sugar rush.
There’s been this swelling subtle, nearly cosmic gravitation between you and Jeno, yet you haven’t been courageous enough to put aside your stubbornness, shatter the illusion of irritation, address the bubbling jealousy, and admit it out loud.
“Well… say something, y/n,” he weakly mumbles, studying your enigmatic expression and letting out a nervous, shaky huff. 
His warm breath fans over your neck, sending chills down your spine and causing you to physically shiver in his lap. A shiver that incites your hips twitch slightly against his crotch, grinding into his half hard bulge. His hands impulsively fly to your love handles.
What’s truly holding you two back from acting on the yearning and overflowing desire? The sexual tension is suffocating… why not take a breath of fresh air?
“Take me. Take all of me...” you sigh, looping your arms around his neck and closing the gap between your lips for a handful of seconds. Pulling back from his mouth, you purposely grind down on stiff length again, watching his eyes gloss over and instantly darken 
He effortlessly scoops you up, hands firmly clutching your ass as he stands to navigate you two to bed in the next room. Your legs cling to his waist, arms fastening around his muscular shoulders, nails digging into his skin, while arousal is pooling in your panties. One of his hands leaves your body momentarily to lock the cabin door as he leads you to the mattress.
You feel a buzzing excitement just anticipating how sore you’re going to be tomorrow. There’s absolutely no way you’ll be able to participate in the various camp activities after the various dirty acts you’re about to do to each other.
Your mutual yearning brings you to rip each other's clothes off haphazardly, stripping until you’re both in underwear, alone. The allure of finally indulging in the long anticipated paradise of ravaging you has him pressing you to the bed roughly, then attacking your lips with heated, passionate kisses. 
He drags your thighs to the edge of the bed and throws them over his shoulders, the sharp daggers in his eyes piercing through you with overwhelming lust.
“You know, your swimsuit barely covers down here, right?”
“Of course I fucking know, and you couldn’t take your eyes off me,” you hiss as he takes his first lick over your panties, barely ghosting over your slit torturously. “How many times did you come thinking about me in that bikini?”
“God, it’s so fucking hot hearing you talk like that, but today you’re gonna be a good girl for me...and good girls don’t talk like that,” Jeno scolds while thumbing your lacy panties to the side. He exposes your glorious slick hole and licks his lips, menacingly. 
He drinks in the delectable sight of your legs spread. Your wet pussy on display for him right now mirrors the images he had in his head at the lake last month.
“Keep your hands above your head the entire time while I’m fucking you with my tongue and with my cock… or else,” he growls.
Then he’s digging his mouth into your folds as if he’s been starved for years and he’s finally being fed with the most flavorful feast known to man. Your juices are a mouthwatering delicacy that he desires to taste everyday if you let him.
“Baby, tell me about how you thought about me and touched yourself, I bet it was more than me,” he taunts. Your eyes roll back in your head from his harsh sucking on your clit coupled with how turned on his words made you feel.
Jeno’s arms are snaked around your upper thighs to cement you to the bed and graciously take his tongue like the good girl he wants you to be. Your ass is hanging off the edge of the mattress as he pulls his mouth off your folds to jolt you forward. One of his hands sneaks up your stomach to squeeze your breast and tweak your erect nipple. He’s high on lust watching your juices drip down to the floor.
“Jeno, it’s fucking embarrassing how many times I thought about you when I was fingering myself,” you manage to squeak as he gives the bud a sharp pinch. He reconnects his ravaging mouth to your bundle of nerves, humming loudly in satisfaction to your explicit, dirty response. His humming brings momentary vibrations to your sensitive region and you writhe in his arms from the exhilarating sensation. 
Fuck... FUCK. If only you knew he didn’t cheat sooner... you could’ve been feeling this pleasure all Summer.
The feeling of his mouth urges you to compulsively grab his hair, yet your fingertips stop right before touching the top of his head, recalling the conditions he stated. He pulls his mouth off your folds, a mix of your juices and his saliva hanging off his bottom lip, then dribbling down his chin as he fully stands up. 
You have no idea what it means for you, but his movement bumps his head into your hand. Technically YOU didn’t touch him. Nevertheless, he clicks his tongue and looks you up and down. His pupils are dilated and his stare radiates dominance and power. You noticeably shudder and slip off the bed, getting on your knees in front of him. If Jeno hadn’t moved the rug that typically resided on the other side of the room, then your knees would be painfully resting on the splintering, wooden floor of the cabin. Somehow, Jeno anticipated someone would be on their knees right here by his bed. 
“Fuck my mouth,” you plead with convincing innocent doe eyes. 
You don’t just want to make him feel good; you want him to feel spectacular; you want him to never imagine another girl this way again; you want him to brush off the girls that swarm and flirt with him; and you’re set on giving him the best head he’s ever received in his life.
You don’t need to tell Jeno twice before he’s tugged his boxers down his legs and flung away. He holds his hard, erect cock in one hand, stroking himself a few times, lazily. Approaching you, he tangles his fingers into your hair softly with the other hand. 
“Put your hands on the back of my thighs. Hold tight right there, okay?” he orders, to which you nod obediently and open your mouth wide. He slaps the precum covered on your flattened tongue, then slips his cock into your mouth and tightens his grip until your scalp stings. You dig your fingernails into his thighs, positive he’s going to have bruises right there tomorrow. His eyes remain on the salivating visual of his whole length disappearing down your throat. 
You know that he’s not the reputation from the rumors that spread in high school
... but FUCK, when you’re with him sexually, at his mercy, under his control,  you swear you’ve never been with such a bad boy. 
 And from now on, you’ll be his very good girl any day, any time, and any place he wants you to be.
You try to bob your head and hollow your cheeks as much as humanly possible, though he’s the one in control of your mouth. The warmth of your mouth invites him in with ease and he hits the back of your throat nearly every thrust. You deepthroat him every 10 seconds or so, and in those instances he releases the loudest, most delicious moans. With no rational explanation, he instinctively knows how much pressure and how hard he can fuck your throat before you’re choking too severely.
You learned a few tricks a while back that guarantee you give better blow jobs: tuck your lips into your mouth covering your teeth completely; this allows you to add pressure around his length with your teeth covered; and hold your thumbs down in your palm as tight as your throat is with his cock filling it. 
Despite the shadow of tears brimming in the corners of your eyes and the soreness of your jaw, his pleasured noises motivate you to attempt bobbing your head again solidifying your superior sexual experiences as if proving that will make Jeno stay with you. 
He doesn’t want to shoot his hot cum down your throat, choosing to save that for another time. No matter how much he wants to orgasm, he’ll wait until after he’s stuffed your cunt raw. He pulls your mouth off him, throwing his head back and taking deep inhales. Your lungs have been under far way greater stress than his, evident in your erratic, frenzied huffing, though. He gives a moment to suck enough air into your lungs to prevent fainting before he politely asks you, “Baby, will you get on the bed for me? Like how you were before?” 
You nod eagerly and reposition yourself on the bed. This time, instead of your legs being spread, he wants your both of legs over his right shoulder.
“God, I’ve been imagining this for months,” he rasps, prodding your entrance for a second to tease you. 
You emit a high pitched whine that makes the corners of his lips prick up, cockily. He’s reveling in the power that you’ve given him so easily.
“Beg for it, baby,” he encourages with a smirk. 
You don’t spare a second before crying out, “Jeno, please, I’ve been a good girl for you, right? I want- no, I need you inside me please, I’ve been really good. Just plea-”
Your voice trails off as he slowly fills your pulsating hole with every inch of his cock. He throws his head back blissfully at the mind blowing sensation of stretching you out. Your walls swallow his length a million times better than how he imagined every time he was silently getting himself off in the bathroom with you in the next room over. 
“You’re right, you’ve been so good, y/n. So, so good for me” Jeno coos, one of his hands leaving where he was latched sternly to your hip to caress you cheek affectionately. He rubs his thumb over your puffy, red bottom lip until the seam of your lips parts, letting his thumb dive into your mouth. “Woah... oh, baby, you take me like such a good girl.”
You’re well aware that your other roommates can get back and bang on the door to come in, but you couldn’t care less about them hearing the pleasured moans you release in tandem.        
“I love the way you just fit in me perfectly, like-”
“Like your perfect pussy was made to be fucked by me. I couldn’t agree more...” His brutal, deep thrusts into your wet cunt extract sinful whimpers from you, the kind that only provoke him to pump into you with more force, keen on truly making you sore tomorrow. You loll your head to the side to truly take him the thrilling pounding and enjoy the momentous knots tying from his rough fucking. He delivers a few swift slaps to your ass before granting you mercy, managing to swindle his hand down your abdomen until his middle and ring fingers reach your clit.
“I’m gonna be nice and let you come today because you’ve been so good, but only if you come right now. Will you be a good girl and do that for me, baby?” he pants, pummeling you with hastened intensity to throw you over the edge. “y/n, I asked you a question.” He grips your chin sternly, tilting your head to meet his intimidating gaze.
“Y-yes, I’m almost ther-” you bawl until he cuts you off.
“No, come on my cock now. I’m filling you up so deep and fucking so hard that you’re going to come right now,” he demands with wild eyes and a furrowed brow.
You don’t need much convincing, your orgasm was already heightening at his second word, but hearing every vulgar word spilling from his lips only makes your intense orgasm last longer, trembling wildly throughout every second. The tingling ecstasy strikes like lightning and you ride out your high until feeling slightly numb for a moment, as if he brought you to an orgasm that felt like novacane flooding your whole body.
His climax peaks not 30 seconds later, breathing heavily as he pulls out of you seeping core quickly, shooting white ribbons of cum over your thighs with a grin. He loved fucking your mouth but you took him so well down your throat that he came quicker than he would’ve hoped. Tomorrow, he decides, he’ll fuck you harder and longer, determined to make you come at least 3x on his cock.
One climax for every month you two could’ve been fucking this summer.
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Jeno’s gentle, nimble hands clean your skin with a damp washcloth. He pays close attention to thoroughly wiping off his white cum that painted your upper legs. 
You lethargically crawl up the mattress, curling up against the headboard. Your naked body is swaddled in the several blankets he snatches from your bunk and Hyuck’s bed below, keen on making you feel like the most cared for and deeply loved person in the entire universe. Sleep is loudly calling out your name with urgency and your eyelids flutter closed instinctively.
Never in your wildest dreams could you have pictured a scenario more content, serene and serendipitous than the one you’re swept up in right now. How could this moment get any sweeter? 
“Baby, can you stay awake just a little while longer?” Jeno calls out, tender voice barely above a whisper. You slowly pry your eyes open to see him perched at the edge of the bed, guitar in his hands and gaze concentrated on his fingers. “There’s this one song that’s been playing in my head every time I think of you, now…” he sighs and lifts his chin to greet you with kind eyes. “I'm gonna play some of it for you, okay?” 
(Let’s pretend this is in Korean, okay? This is one snippet of the song but here are the full lyrics)
He wasn’t fully cognizant as to what motivated him to repeatedly play it to perfection the past few weeks until this very moment. The ambiance compliments your beauty, and the ebullient aura couldn’t be more perfect.
    “𝐈 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮
             𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐢𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐬
                      𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤, 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐮𝐩 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐝”
You instantly recognize that it is the same tune he’s been humming nonstop. The affectionate lyrics and beautiful guitar accompaniment pour into the air, enchanting you from the very start, and flowing straight into your heart. 
    “𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐩𝐞
               𝐈 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞, 𝐈 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐲
                          𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐈'𝐦 𝐬𝐚𝐝, 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲”
You feel a passionate warmth radiating in your chest hearing his voice laced in love, sincerely serenading you with the heavenly, heartfelt song.
    “𝐎𝐨𝐡 𝐕𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐠𝐨
               𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐠𝐨
                          𝐎𝐡, 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲, 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲
                                     𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐨𝐞, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐠𝐨”
You wipe a tear from your cheek. 
In retrospect, you were downright foolish for believing those stupid things people said in high school, when in reality, the rumor that he was heartless couldn’t be further from the truth. 
And you’re the luckiest girl in the world because his whole heart belongs to you.
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when Rumor was first posted, it was only 5.2k words! I worked really hard on this, editing and/or adding to it 9x. Realllyyy hoping I don’t get copyrighted and sued bc of the song lyrics i used ?? and, yes, I did just watch that episode of iCarly the other day.
I’m FINALLY working on a pt 2 to celebrate 2k notes!! ➾title: to be honest..
75% chance it’ll be posted sometime starting july? but i never keep my promises. sorry in advance if it's late💗plus it'll likely have 2.3k notes by then which isn't even a celebration??
lastly, I am in no way insinuating that clc’s Yeeun was involved with Jeno!! I just thought it worked well with the plot because they’re friends and MCed together
➾ my masterlist
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© 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟏 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬, 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.
3K notes · View notes
luvdsc · 2 months ago
CHALLENGE ACCEPTED: calling your boyfriend by his first name.
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one new notification: the dreamies uploaded a new video! 
users :: nct dream x reader channel :: not clickbait universe uploaded on :: may 10, 2021 at 2:22 p.m. pst description :: what happens when you decide to call your boyfriend by his first name instead of your nickname for him? click to find out! don’t forget to like, comment, and subscribe, honey bees!
author’s note :: in celebration of hot sauce, here’s a lil update on the not clickbait universe !!! ♡ i’m currently trying to get out of my writer’s block, so i’ll be writing little blurbs of the boys reacting to various tiktok challenges. these all take place after the not clickbait series, aka they’re already dating here (and yes, i intend on finishing the remaining fics for the other boys) ♡ (insp.)
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❥ MARK —
“Hey, can you pass me the whisk, Mark?”
You extend your hand out towards your boyfriend. He grabs the kitchen tool and starts to pass it to you before pausing. Something doesn’t feel right.
“Mark? Can I have the whisk, please?”
Suddenly, his eyes grow round in realization, and he turns to you, a questioning look overtaking his face. “You called me Mark.”
“Yeah, that’s your name, isn’t it?” You pluck the whisk from his grasp, returning your attention to the bowl of chocolate cake batter in front of you. He furrows his eyebrows, pouting slightly.
“But you don’t call me that.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m...” His cheeks grow red as he stumbles over his words. He scratches the back of his neck sheepishly. “You always call me...” He whispers the last word as the tips of his ears turn scarlet. “... Marky.”
You can’t hide the smile on your face anymore, and when you turn to face him, he grows even more flustered, noticing the Cheshire grin on your face.
“You did that on purpose!” he accuses you, flapping his hands around in embarrassment. “Is this another TikTok challenge?!”
You laugh, and he sighs in defeat. Leaning over, you press a soft kiss against his cheek. “Sorry, Marky, you’re just too cute.”
One new notification: donutkillmyvibe uploaded a new video!
goofys.chuckle commented:
whipped twerking
morklyrawr replied: ???? what does that even mean ????
yoitslucas commented:
junguwu commented:
nanaislove commented:
my therapist: y/n calling mark marky cannot hurt you y/n calling mark marky:
apado_god commented:
nice 😎👍🏻
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“Renjun, what should we Postmates?” You scroll through the app, assessing all your options. You hear no response from your boyfriend, so you look over at him.
He pointedly looks down at his phone, double tapping the pictures that show up on his Instagram feed (He scrolls past one unflattering image of him on Haechan’s finsta). You reach out and poke him. “Renjun?”
Radio silence. Your boyfriend even has the audacity to turn away from you and reach for his AirPods.
“... Junbug?”
“I’m up for ordering some fried chicken.”
“Wow, really? I thought you hated that nickname,” you snort, shaking your head slightly, but you click on your boyfriend’s favorite chicken restaurant. Fried chicken, it is then (You make sure to add a note to your order to have the deliverer ask for Junbug when he goes down to pick it up).
One new notification: appletater uploaded a new video!
moominjun commented:
appletater replied: oh so we’re going on a first name basis now, renjun?
moominjun replied: DELETE THIS NOW DEMON*
appletater replied: no ❤️
sheepsh commented:
hey junbug are you free on thurs to hang out
moominjun replied: stfu ten already confirmed that you like to be called baby (yes i’m free)
sheepsh replied: DON’T CALL ME BABY I’M 20 YEARS OLD (cool let’s meet up at 5)
10vely replied: why are you lying baby i taught you better than this smh still a young boy
goofys.chuckle commented:
you’re so cute here junbug 🥺🥺
moominjun replied: go step on a lego hyuck baby
apado_god commented:
nice 😎👍🏻
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❥ JENO —
“Are you gonna do a livestream today, Jeno?”
Your boyfriend freezes in his chair, fingers paused over the keyboard. You can hear Donghyuck and Jisung yelling at him over his headphones as their players die on screen, and you hide a smile, lounging against the backboard of his bed as you pretend to tap away at your phone, secretly filming him instead.
“Jeno?” You try again, and he lets out a noise of confusion, cocking his head slightly. He turns to you hesitantly, pulling his headphones down to rest around his neck. “... Am I in trouble?”
“No? Why would you be, Jeno?”
He rolls back in his chair a few inches. “You’re doing it again though. Just tell me what’s wrong. Is it because I ate all the leftover Chinese?”
“Nothing’s wrong.” You tilt your head, widening your eyes innocently. “And I’m doing what?”
“Why are you calling me by my first name?” He wrinkles his forehead, frowning. “You always call me babe.”
“Oh, sorry, babe.” You shrug, and he shakes his head. Your boyfriend turns back to his game, the both of you forgetting your original question. Suddenly, you shoot up in belated realization, back straightening up as you give him an incredulous expression.
“Wait, you ate all the leftover chow mein?! Jeno, I was saving that!”
“... So I am in trouble.”
One new notification: itsmebetch uploaded a new video!
bigheadking commented:
wig? snatched hotel? trivago jeno? in trouble
moominjun commented:
it’s ok y/n he ate my leftovers too......
peachyangel commented:
there is something so jeno about this i can’t explain
goofys.chuckle replied: you mean the boring reaction? yeah he didn’t even flinch
itsmebetch replied: leave my man alone he did his best 🤬
dobunny commented:
jeno... 🤐🤐
apado_god commented:
nice 😎👍🏻
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“Donghyuck!” You call out from the doorway, and immediately, your boyfriend snaps his head towards you with a growing frown.
“Donghyuck, can you—”
“My name is not Donghyuck!” he cuts you off, crossing his arms over his chest and abandoning his phone entirely on the cushion next to him. You stifle a laugh, but continue on with your little challenge.
“Yes, it is,” you insist, “Your name is Donghyuck!”
“No, it’s not, it’s baby!” he huffs out, his lips jutting out in a pout as he glares at you from his seat on the couch. You hold back a snort, curling your lips inward.
He narrows his eyes at you. “Baby.”
You quirk up an eyebrow, leaning against the doorframe. “Donghyuck.”
He pouts even harder. “Baby.”
“... Hyuck.”
“... Baby,” you finally concede, throwing your hands up in exasperation as you walk over, and he beams at you, pulling you down to sit on his lap.
“Yes, angel?”
“... You’re so annoying,” you mutter, leaning against his chest and resting your head in the crook of his neck.
Your boyfriend laughs, grinning mischievously before placing a kiss on your forehead and leaning his head against yours. “The feeling’s mutual.”
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bigheadking commented:
y/n: donghyu- hyuck: my name is NOT donghyuck, it’s sweet angel baby honey!!!! 😡😫🥺
jisungpwark replied: LMAOOOOOOO
goofys.chuckle replied: look who’s talking sweetheart
bigheadking replied: is your name y/n 🤨
goofys.chuckle replied: no?
bigheadking replied: then don’t call me that 🙂
moominjun commented:
bab— b— 🤢🤢
apado_god commented:
nice 😎👍🏻
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“Jaemin, can you add cereal to the grocery list please?”
You dig through the shelves, searching for your favorite brand, but come up empty handed. You shut the pantry door behind you, opting to get some yogurt from the fridge instead for breakfast.
“What happened to honey?” Jaemin appears next to you, sulking slightly, and you turn to him. “Oh! Do we need to add that to the list, too?”
“No,” He pouts, the corners of his lips tilting downwards as his bottom lip sticks out. “You always call me honey, darling, angel, Jaems, Nana, but not Jaemin.”
“But... it’s your name?” You say over your shoulder, plucking a carton of yogurt from the top shelf before swinging the fridge door closed. “Can you get me a spoon please, Jaemin?”
His shoulders droop slightly, and you start to feel bad, before he lets out a huff and grabs a spoon, passing it over to you. “Fine, here, Y/N.”
You flinch slightly. The sound of your first name coming from him feels unnatural to you, and he notices your reaction, smiling smugly before turning his nose up. “Huh, I guess you don’t like it either, do you, Y/N?”
“... Is this a bad time to ask you to get me some water, too?”
Jaemin pauses, pressing his lips tightly together before reaching out and grabbing a glass from the cabinet. He goes over to the freezer and fills it with ice cubes before handing it to you. “Here.”
You’re confused. “This is ice.”
“Wait for it to melt.”
Your boyfriend is truly the king of pettiness.
One new notification: peachyangel uploaded a new video!
showmethemonet commented:
so ig all the boys legally changed their name to honey or baby
itsmebetch commented:
the glass of ice tho 😭😭
nanaislove replied: i got her water afterwards!!!! she just didn’t show it ):
peachyangel replied: yes you did honey thank you ily 🥺💗
nanaislove replied: ily more 🥺💗💕💖💞💘✨🌷
apado_god commented:
nice 😎👍🏻
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“Oh my god, I found the perfect restaurant for our next video, Chenle!”
You excitedly scroll through the restaurant’s website, the tip of your tongue sticking out before you realize your boyfriend hasn’t answered you. You spin around in your office chair to face him. “Chenle?”
Sitting on his bed, he barely glances up from his laptop. “Who’s Chenle?”
You furrow your eyebrows. “You?”
He gives you a deadpan look. You push yourself over to him, still sitting in the rolling chair. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he shrugs. “I just don’t know who this Chenle dude is that you’re referring to.”
“Wha—” you cut yourself off mid-word, giggles bubbling up in your throat. “Are you serious right now, Chenle?”
Your boyfriend looks extremely unimpressed, and you only laugh even harder. He frowns. “I only know a Lele or sweetheart. I don’t know any Chenle’s.”
You let out a noise of amusement, a smile appearing on your face. “Okay, fine, Lele, you absolute dork.”
He finally grins at you. “That works, too.”
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sungchannel commented:
haha cute chenle~! ☺️
honeyfairy commented:
couple goals 💓💓
notanimpasta replied: omg you have to do this with jisung !!!
appletater replied: i’m listening......
itsmebetch replied: oh? 👀
apado_god commented:
nice 😎👍🏻
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Your boyfriend flinches, nearly dropping his popsicle. He turns to look at you, and you smile at him. “Can you get me one too, please?”
“Sure.” He reaches down to fish out a second popsicle from the freezer drawer before halting. Something feels off. He slowly stands back up, shutting the freezer and trying to figure out what’s throwing him off. Shaking his head, he makes his way over to you and hands you yours.
“Thanks, Jisung!” you exclaim brightly with a smile, and he’s hit with the same feeling again. It’s like when someone (read: Chenle and Donghyuck) moved all the furniture two inches to the left, and he was left stubbing his toe against the coffee table every time he got up from the couch.
“Um...” He fidgets a little in his place, still standing there. Finally, the light bulb goes off in his mind, and he may or may not be the tiniest bit embarrassed at how much this change is truly affecting him. You look up at him, patting the seat next to you. “Aren’t you gonna sit, Jisung? We still have the rest of the episode to watch.”
Hearing you say his full name again, Jisung decides he definitely doesn’t like it.
“Why... why aren’t you calling me Sungie?” he says at last, cerise blossoming on his cheeks when he makes eye contact with you. He looks away, biting his bottom lip, as the blush spreads to his ears and neck. “You always call me that. Or... or... cutie.”
You can no longer suppress the smile on your face, and you beam at him, reaching out to slip your hand in his and tug him down next to you. “Sungie, you are so cute, oh my god!”
The splotches of red on his cheeks grow brighter, and he buries his face in your shoulder, muttering, “You’re such a brat. You did that on purpose.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever, cutie,” you coo at him, and he grumbles, settling back in his seat as he eats his popsicle, the bright color of his treat a perfect matching shade to his face.
“You’ve been hanging out with Chenle too much.”
“Why? Does he call you cutie, too, cutie?”
“Shut up!”
“But I thought you liked me calling you that?”
“I... I do, but I just— argh!”
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nanaislove commented:
peachyangel commented:
bigheadking commented:
you don’t let me call you cutie ☹️
jisungpwark replied: oh my god go away
notanimpasta commented:
queen delivered 🤩🤩 the absolute cutest !!!! 
apado_god commented:
nice 😎👍🏻
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3K notes · View notes
0097linersb · 6 months ago
I see red
Pairings: Jeno x Reader
Genre: Smut (basically pwp)
Word count: 5.1k
Warnings: Jealousy, dom!Jeno, he spits in your mouth at some point, slapping, choking, overstimulaton, edging, the whole deal really, name calling, oral, fingering - This is just pure filth I’m sorry. 
A/N: I also had this saved in my drafts and I’m horny for dom!Jeno Iol I struggle with profreading my own stuff so I’ll try my best to do it tomorrow
You didn’t know what finally set Jeno off.  
Sure, you haven’t been on your best behavior lately but it’s not like it was your fault; Ever since he decided to go on little gym dates with Yubin and just casually mentioned it to you one day, like he was talking about how sunny it was outside and not about how he was hanging out (almost daily) with a super hot girl, alone and in minimal clothing too. You couldn’t even trick yourself with “she’s not his type” because that woman was everyone’s type, damn, she was even your type.
It’s not like you didn’t trust him or felt insecure about yourself - it made no sense, really. It’s like people say: Jealousy is a little green monster that ate your insides and got you to unreason things. You just couldn’t help feeling slightly annoyed, you mean, try knowing your boyfriend is hanging out for hours with a blonde goddess with a six pack AND be happy about it.
So, since he decided to be a pain in the ass, you decided to become what you were born to be: His worst fucking nightmare.
But in all fairness, you didn’t know exactly what tipped him over the edge. It could have been you casually hanging with his roommates in the shortest skirt you could have possibly found, it could be the way you kissed Jaemin (just a small peck) so the boy would stop playing around and annoying the others with his over-the-top signs of affection, it could even be the way you asked Haechan to massage your shoulders because you were in pain but too annoyed to ask your boyfriend for it. He sure must not have liked the way you were dancing with Mark at the party last Friday or how he got home on Monday to you wearing one of Renjun’s shirts - but he was Jeno, of course he said nothing about it. Plus, he knew you better than that.
It didn’t help when Haechan and Jaemin asked what was going on between you two and you shared your boyfriend’s gym adventures, of course you could trust those guys to join in on making their friend’s life living hell. It was just open game then, Jaemin playfully flirting with you and complimenting you whenever he could and Haechan teasing your boyfriend about it.You were always careful to not cross any lines, though. Only doing things that you knew weren’t actually going to upset Jeno and would be perceived by him as one of your little games, which is what they were. You also kept it subtle and spaced out, which is why you were expecting to be playing for a long time, or at least for longer than you did.
Your plans were ruined on Wednesday afternoon, when the black-haired boy came out of the shower to a Na Jaemin pulling you to sit on his lap, his arms going around you to show you how to play the video game. Your boyfriend quietly sat down next to you two, saying nothing and staring deeply at the Tv screen but, the look on his face and his clenched jaw were sending a shiver down your spine.
Damn you for refusing to have sex since you found out about Jeno’s gym buddy, this pent-up frustration was not helping you at all.
Thanks to the distraction that was your boyfriend, you couldn’t focus on the race going on and lost at the easiest level, resorting to whining to Jaemin, who simply patted your thigh in a comforting manner and let out a soft, “It’s ok, baby.”
Your pouting soon morphed into a face of shock and your little fit was interrupted as your boyfriend hastily stood up, groaning a “That’s it. Room, now!”
You looked up at him confusedly but not done with being annoying yet, you decided to try one last jab, sending him a challenging look, “I don’t really feel like it.”
Jeno simply raised an eyebrow at you, his whole aura shifting, making you coward immediately under his cold gaze, “Care to repeat that?”
“I said- Nothing.”
“That’s what I thought. Now, move.”
You repeat what your boyfriend said in a mocking tone but obey, leaving an amused looking Jaemin behind as you wondered where the fuck did all your confidence go to. You really couldn’t keep the character up when Jeno lowered his voice - you liked playing with fire but you weren’t crazy enough to jump in it.
As you entered your boyfriend’s room, your heart was beating like crazy. You felt like a kid again: When you knew you did something wrong and your mother was about to punish you for it. The anxiety did not sit well with you, maybe you should start being nicer to the man.
“Jeno, I-” You tried reasoning as soon as he entered the room, closing the door behind him.
“I don’t give a fuck, sit down.”
You were happy to comply, legs getting wobbly as his strict tone had a weird effect on you. You sat on the edge of the bed and Jeno was quick to stand up in between your legs, you tried to look anywhere but at him, but that was proven impossible as his hand softly but confidently grabbed your chin and tipped your head up so you were forced to stare at him like a deer stuck in head lights. You could hear your own pulse throbbing inside your ears. 
Well, no use acting all innocent now, you really did bring this upon yourself.
“Had fun?” He asked, his voice could cut you right open. You didn’t know what to answer, nervous of any extra consequences that may come if you did, but your silence was clearly not accepted as his grip on your jaw tightened, “Speak.”
He hummed, eyes slowly skimming over your face as his thumb softly brushed your cheek, “So pretty. Too bad you don’t know how to behave, huh? I think it’s about time for me to put you back in your place, don’t you agree?”
You close your eyes and enjoy the smooth circles he was tracing with his thumb, not sure where he was going with this - your heart was trying to leave this room, though, by the way it kept pounding against your ribcage- but knowing you wouldn’t get a lot of soft moments from this point forward.
“Did you think I would find it cute?” He sternly asked, his tone contrasting with the light touches on your face. He knew your answer to that and you knew he was just playing your cards, and well, it was working.
“So you acted like a brat on purpose?” He tried giving you a chance, knowing you really had no way out of your own mess.
“At your service, sir,” You joked as you rolled your eyes, trying to lighten the mood, maybe make the man laugh a bit so he would forgive you.
“Watch it,” He spat out and you kind of regretted saying it when his hand flew to the back of your head, pulling on your hair harshly so you were forced to look up.
Ok, Jeno was mad mad.
His cold expression didn’t faze at the way you groaned in pain, neither did his grip on your hair as he bent down so his face would be right in front of yours as he warned, “You brought this upon yourself. Clothes off.”
You had it in you to fight a bit, but honestly, you were already aching between your legs and curious to know how all of this would unroll. You quickly undressed, leaving your panties on since he didn’t say anything about it, your eyes not leaving the floor as you did it. You then stared at your boyfriend, who was now sitting on the edge of the bed, waiting for the next instructions. Jeno simply looked at the place between his spread legs, signing where he wanted you. As you sat down, you noticed the man had placed the full body mirror he owned right in front of you while you were undressing.
Oh, boy.
You two locked eyes through the mirror and he calmly asked, “What’s the safe word?”
And that’s when your brain stopped working, knowing you had really fucked up. Jeno has always been a little bit more on the rough side in bed, even kind of dominant, but never like this. You two had never used a safe word before. He noticed your struggle and suggested in a soft but strict tone, “Is Apple ok?”
“Yeah,” You muttered and he nodded in acknowledgement before harshly forcing your thighs open with his hands, making you gasp. His chest was pressed against your back, but you couldn’t feel his heart hammering crazy like yours was.
Jeno slowly moved his hands higher up your thighs, getting goosebumps to erupt all over your body. He ever so lightly traced one single finger against your clothed slit as he said, eyes still locked with yours in the mirror, “I want you to watch yourself being a slut, maybe then you’ll be embarrassed and learn how to behave.”
You whined, not sure if it was at the tip of his finger barely grazing over your clit or at his words. Honestly, who the fuck was this man?
You could see the wet patch of fabric between your legs in the mirror and Jeno caught you staring at it as his middle finger rubbed slow circles on you, only smirking at you in response, clearly satisfied with the effect he had over you.
It was embarrassing how quickly you were squirming under your boyfriend’s touches; your bottom lip was almost bleeding from how strongly you were biting it to keep your whines inside your mouth as you tried to move away from his finger because it was soon becoming too much. He was having none of it and his other hand firmly found its place  on your jaw once again as he grunted right into your ear, “Be a good girl for once and take it. We have barely started.”
You did whine at that, his stare not fading for one second as he tightened his grip on your face and pulled your head back to the front every time you tried to look away from the mirror.
“Look at you. I haven’t even touched you properly yet and you’re already a mess, what happened to all that attitude, huh?”
He was right, he had only touched you through your panties and you were already so close. Guess you really were all bark and no bite – But to be honest: You were dripping, your underwear was soaked and his finger drawing shapes against your clit just felt so good you didn’t care about your little personality problem at all.
Your thighs were quivering from the stimulation and when he sped up his movements they tried to fly shut, but his voice stopped you midway, “Don’t you dare.”
You grabbed the fabric from his pants harshly, “Jeno, I’m-”
“Only talk when spoken to.”
This new side of Jeno, his heavenly (or devilish) finger teasing you plus his hard dick throbbing against your lower back, got you spasming in record time. Your nails carving shapes on the skin of his thighs as your whole body shook when you orgasmed. Jeno continued tracing your clit through your high, until you were jumping from sensitivity and whining at him to stop. He lightly pushed you so you would stand up and you struggled to comply with your shaky legs, but tried your best.
You stood in front of your boyfriend, expecting him to then order you to suck his dick or something and this would be all over with, but were surprised when he pulled your panties down your legs with delicate fingers. Goosebumps filled your skin again at the mere touch of his knuckles against your lower abdomen. It was weird how he touched you so softly while his eyes burned holes into you, you had never seen Jeno so worked up before, you felt like he could explode at the wrong move of a finger from you.
He slowly kneeled in front of you, eyes locked in yours. His hands were on the back of your thighs and you felt cold and warm at the same time, nipples hard with the shivers that ran up your spine. Jeno didn’t comment on your shaking frame, giving your clit a soft kiss as he stared up at you.
“Jeno, I-“ You began, trying to inform your boyfriend you were too sensitive from just cumming.
“I’ll make you cum once for every time you flirted with someone this week, and now once more for disobeying me,” He simply informed before going back to work, tongue doing wonders against your swollen clit.
You cried out at his words.
The man pulled your legs slightly apart so he could go all in, his wet lips and warm tongue playing with you until the sensitivity turned into pleasure and you were entering a place of euphoria, trying to not moan too loudly since his roommates were right outside. He noticed you were trying to contain your noises and tskd, eating you out more fervidly. When it became too much again, your hands grabbed his hair for support, which only resulted in you receiving a firm look, “No touching. If you want to act like a whore, I’ll treat you like one.”
You tried balancing on your feet, but your body was quivering at Jeno’s ministration and he wouldn’t let you go. Not managing it anymore, you let your body fall to the front, supporting your hands on the bed, thanking the heavens your boyfriend didn’t complain about it. You wanted to tell him you needed his fingers inside of you but didn’t want to disobey his order once again, only letting moan after moan leave your lips. Jeno simply looked animalistic kneeled in between your legs and you forced yourself to close your eyes, throwing your head back in pleasure.
You were not recognizing yourself but that thought was far from your worries as you released once again against his tongue, hand gripping  the sheets so tightly you were afraid of breaking your fingers. Jeno stood up, holding your waist so you would do the same as you breathed hard, “This one was for rubbing yourself all over Mark at Ten’s.”
You could see the way Jeno’s cock was throbbing against his pants, but he seemed to pay it no mind as he pushed you down into the bed on your back. He hovered over you, slightly brushing his lips against yours before telling you, “I’m giving you 10 seconds to recover.”
One, he counted out loud before kissing your cheek. Two, he mouthed just below your jaw. Three, he whispered and sucked on the side of your neck, making you twitch in bliss. Four, he licked your collarbone. Five, he kissed between your breasts, your back automatically arching. Six, he brushed his fingers against your hardened nipple, loving the sound of your mewls. Seven, he left an open-mouthed kiss on your stomach. Eight, he did the same to your navel, feeling your abdomen tense under his fingers.
Honestly, this was not helping you calm down at all. Shivering this much couldn’t be healthy.
On the count of nine, his nails scratched the inside of your thigh and on the count of ten, he plunged two fingers inside of you with no warning. You chocked around nothing, biting the back of your hand so you wouldn’t legit scream. You had never been so wet in your life and the way his fingers were slowly rubbing so good against your walls, had you out of your mind.
“Put your hand away, I want to hear you,” He ordered, eyes locked on the way his fingers disappeared inside of you. How did he even know you were biting on your hand?
He continued pumping and curling his fingers, speeding up when he felt your walls tightening. You started feeling your third orgasm approach you even faster than the first one, tensing your legs so you wouldn’t close them because of the sensitivity.
Jeno smirked at you, “Look who’s being a good girl for once.”
You didn’t even care anymore, everything felt so good you couldn’t even remember your name and you were sure you sounded like a porn star, having no control over your voice. You were so close, knuckles white again at the force you were holding onto your pillow. So, so close.
And then it all stopped.
You whined loudly and Jeno simply ordered, “Use my fingers.”
When you gave him a confused look, hoping you hadn’t understood what he said right, he nodded at you, “You heard me.”
You groaned and dropped back down, Jeno easing three fingers into you and waiting still, patiently. This was humiliating but when he gave you a pointed look, you simply forgot about your pride and pushed yourself against his fingers until you were ready to explode again, and as promised, Jeno didn’t do a thing, letting you make yourself cum only using his fingers. It didn’t take long, considering how fucked out you were already (and you weren’t even actually fucked yet). A few more bounces and you were done for, wanting to cry at how good it felt.
“This one was for getting my friends hard, prancing around in those mini clothes of yours.”
You couldn’t help shutting your legs now, body spasming every 2 seconds. Jeno said nothing about it this time as he stood on his knees, undoing his belt with one hand, groaning he couldn’t take it anymore. He dropped his pants and boxers, letting his cock out and your heart pumped faster at how hard and swollen it was.
Your boyfriend roughly opened your legs, positioning himself on top of you and entering you in one harsh thrust, not even waiting for you to adjust (not that you needed it much, considering he was just 3 fingers knuckles deep into you). Real tears started to run down your face at the oversensitivity, your mind couldn’t form a single comprehensible thought, “Jeno, I can’t-“
“I’m not stopping unless I hear the safe word, you can take it,” He snapped, voice as harsh as his thrusts inside of you. He had never fucked you this hard, the whole bed shaking and complaining. There was no way people wouldn’t know what was going on by now.
You trashed under him, it felt like too much but at the same time you didn’t want it to stop. Jeno’s hand was quick to wrap around your throat, squeezing on the sides to hold you down so you would stop moving.
“My pretty princess crying over getting fucked after acting like a slut for days. That doesn’t seem right, now, does it?” He groaned, not faltering his speed or strength one bit. “Tell me, if I didn’t give you the attention you wanted, would you have let one of them fuck you?”
You whined, nails digging harshly on his back (which he thankfully allowed). You thought about answering but you couldn’t really mutter any words with the way Jeno was drilling into you and he knew it.
“I asked you a question,” He hissed, tightening his grip around your neck, cutting the blood circulation from reaching your head.
The lightheadedness didn’t help your case and after another few seconds without an answer, you felt a sting from the slap Jeno gave right across your face. He had never done that before and as a strong independent woman, you didn’t expect to like it as much as you did it.
“Don’t make me repeat myself.”
“No what?” He demanded. The neighbors must really hate you from the way the bed frame kept hitting the wall, but nothing else really matter besides how you were being so pleasantly destroyed.
“Only you can fuck me.”
“That’s right, you’re mine. Open up.”
You were not sure what he meant, embarrassed of doing what you thought he was implying and being wrong, but when he stared you down so intensely that you got actually scared, you slowly opened your mouth. He gave you a wicked smile before slowing down his thrusts a bit, his hold on your neck still strong and when he slowly lowered himself and spit right into your mouth, your body betrayed you and you came all over the place without a warning, not even giving you the chance to brace yourself.
“Good girl,” He caressed the place he had slapped you with his thumb, stopping his movements to let you calm down for a bit. You were not even sure your brain would ever go back to working normally. He silently and slowly sucked marks on your body until your breathing somewhat resembled something normal again.
“Come look at yourself,” He called, tone a bit gentler. Maybe your tears softened him up a bit.
You tried to obey, carefully dragging yourself to the edge of the bed so you could stand up in front of the mirror where he wanted you. As soon as you tried standing up, your legs gave out, but Jeno was right behind you to catch you, holding you up by your waist and pointing to the mirror, “Look.”
And you did. You had purple bruises on the left side of your neck, on your breasts and on the inside of your thighs. Your hair was clearly all tangled up, there was dark mascara running down your face and smudged around your eyes. You looked absolutely wrecked already.
“So fucking pretty,” He whispered, littering your shoulder with soft kisses. “All of you. Every single part, and they are all mine.”
You shakily nodded. At this point, if Jeno wanted you to walk around wearing his hand as a necklace you wouldn’t even complain.
“It’s all of my friends’ wet dreams to fuck you, I don’t want to ever hear you moaning Haechan’s name or see you kissing Jaemin again, understood?” Your boyfriend told you, placing two of his fingers on your lip for you to suck. You wrapped your mouth around him, sucking on it gently and drawing your tongue along the length of his fingers, feeling his still hard cock against your lower back. He had no reason behind that action, he just wanted to show he could do whatever he wanted with you, whenever he wanted, and you would enjoy it.
“It was a joke,” You breathed out once he retrieved his hand, referring to the kiss your boyfriend was talking about.
“I know baby girl, but let’s not give them any hope. I want them to know who you belong to,” He quietly told you, his breath hitting your ear. “Get on all fours.”
You body stiffened, “Jeno, I really can’t-“
“Did I ask?” He cocked his eyebrow at you and you took a deep breath before shakingly obeying.
As you crawled in bed, your boyfriend finally took his clothes off before positioning himself behind you. At least this time he pitied you enough to at least start fucking you slowly.
A hiccup escaped your throat, almost sure you couldn’t handle it anymore and Jeno caressed your lower back to comfort you as he grinded his cock inside you, “Only one more, princess.”
You were in heaven and hell at the same time, your pussy was so sensitive that every thrust felt like you were right on edge, you had never experienced anything like that before. Your arms gave out quicker than your attitude dropped, left side of your face pressing against the sheet and staining it with your mascara and tears. You were honestly not even sure you were moaning anymore, not being able to hear yourself, but with the way Jeno sped up his movements you figured you were.
“Hands,” Jeno asked and you complied, like being used by him was your sole purpose in life.
He grabbed both of your wrists and held it together on your back, the bruising tight grip and the low groans leaving the man’s mouth brought you closer to reality.  If you were in a normal state of mind, you would wonder how your boyfriend could last so long, he had been hard and throbbing since he locked the door earlier - But since your mind was floating somewhere far away, your only reaction was to sob in pleasure and overstimulation.
“Do you remember the safeword, baby?”
You shut your eyes tightly and nodded your head desperately.
“Tell me,” Jeno asked.
“Good girl. We’re almost done,” He told you and you could feel how his thrust were getting shallower and messier. You were so close too.
After another few minutes, Jeno let out a loud moan and shot inside of you (something else you two rarely do, both of you enjoyed it but the pregnancy scares were always too much), you could feel his cum hitting your walls and you loved it. He continued to fuck into you for a whole minute, riding out his high as the hottest sounds left his lips. You clenched around his sensitive member, signaling you were close and he hissed, suddenly pulling out.
You whined like you had never whined before and he simply shushed you, slowly gathering his cum dripping from your hole with his fingers and pushing all of it back inside. You cried out, using your now free hands to hold onto the sheets as he pumped his finger into you – You honestly wouldn’t be surprised if the sheets were ripped by the end of the day. He was teasing you, knowing you wouldn’t be able to reach your high with the speed he was using. You tried pushing back into his fingers but he was quick to hold your hip still, “I don’t think so. Sit down against the wall.”
You wanted to scream.
“Jeno, please,” You sobbed.
“What? You’ve been teasing me with Jaemin for almost 2 whole weeks and I can’t even tease you for a few minutes? Don’t you think that’s a little bit unfair?” He asked, stopping his fingers only when he felt your walls spasming around him. “Now do as I say.”
You accepted your fate, trembling as you followed his instructions, surprised when he got out of the bed and sat down on his desk chair, calmly looking at you.
“Touch yourself,” He instructed. “But don’t cum, or else we will go for another round.”
“You said we were almost over,” You wail.
“And we are baby, just do this one more thing for me.”
You opened up your legs, letting your fingers rub against your clit. You were so wet and Jeno’s cum just made you more lubricated. Since you were already so worked up, you had to trace less than 5 circles against yourself before becoming a noisy mess, ready to let it all go.
“Stop,” Your boyfriend’s strict voice cut you off.
You opened your eyes, which you hadn’t even noticed you had closed, and stared at Jeno in shock, halting your motions.
“Now do it again while looking at me.”
You held the sob that wanted to escape down your throat, shakingly nodding and obeying, just doing anything he wanted so you could cum already. You touched yourself while you looked into Jeno’s stern eyes, your cheeks burning at the fact he had never seen you so vulnerable before.
“I can’t hold it any-“ You stuttered, your eyes stinging again.
The sob that you had been trying to hold back escaped, ripping through your whole body, you had no pride anymore, or shame, as you let your tears spill freely as you begged, “Please, Jeno. Please. I ca-can’t-“
Jeno silently got up and crawled into bed, positioning his head in between your legs.
“It’s ok, princess. You can cum now,” He told you gently before lowering his head and sucking on your clit. He only had to do that three times and you were seeing colors you never had before. The wave of pleasure hit you so strongly that you tough you passed out for a second or two, seeming lost when you managed to open your eyes again.
“Hey baby, it’s ok,” Jeno comforted you softly, quickly getting up on his knees to hug you with one hand while drying the tears that wouldn’t stop soaking your flushed face. “I got you, it’s all over now.”
He was fast to embrace you tightly, bouncing you gently like people do to calm babies down as he muttered praising words after praising words against your ears. It all filled your heart with warmth and pride.
“Want to take a bath?” He asked you in his baby voice and you managed  to form a small smile, remembering that was the same man who was slapping you across the face and spitting in your mouth a few minutes ago.
You nodded and the boy ran into the bathroom so quickly you didn’t even process his absence.
“I’m only preparing the bath, baby. I’m here,” He assured you when he wasn’t back after a minute or so. You were thankful he understood how vulnerable you felt in this moment and how it was something new to you.
He eventually came back and cuddled you until he felt like the tub was full enough. Jeno carried you easily to the bathroom and tested the water temperature before placing you down with care.
“I used your favorite bath bomb,” He smiled and you returned the gesture, appreciating the warm water around your muscles and the gold glittery appearance of it. “I’m just going to go grab our towels, ok? I’ll be right back.”
You waited for a while, playing with the water and taking deep breaths to inhale the vanilla scent coming from it. The water looked so creamy and you slowly rubbed your face with it, trying to clean all the make up and dried tears. You were content, you just had the best sex of your life and Jeno was proud of you.
You were almost falling asleep when you heard your boyfriend’s voice, “Honey, are you covered?”
You looked down confusedly at the opaque water, the man had just almost chocked you to death, why was he worrying about your modesty now out of all times?
“Yeah, why?”
“Jaemin and Haechan are being a pain in the ass, they want to make sure I didn’t kill you.”
At that you laughed and just let yourself slid down the bathtub, letting the water drown you in shame.
“Babe?” You called, watching the way Jeno played with your fingers. When the boy hummed at you, you continued, “What finally set you off?”
“What do you mean?”
“Like, I’ve been trying to get on your nerves for days-“
“Oh,” He laughed and then sighed in embarrassment at his confession, “Jaemin called you baby, only I get to call you that.”
You turned around from where he was holding you on the tub, trying to see if he was serious, only to find your boyfriend pouting.
“I can’t believe you, Jeno Lee.”
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xiaoderys · 10 months ago
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pairing: tutor!jeno x student!reader
warnings: smut, size kink, bulging kink, fem oral receiving, punishment(?)
word count: 2.5K
requested: yes
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Jeno poked his tongue in his cheek as he smacked your test papers down on your desk. “Where did I go wrong?” he said, trying to keep his cool but you just sat there, staring at the paper marked with the big ‘F’ in front of you.
He angrily sighed and rubbed his temples “I asked you a question, y/n, don’t tell me you can’t even answer a question as simple as that” his frustration was growing by the second yet you just won’t budge because frankly, he’s done nothing wrong, he fulfilled his duties as your tutor and did his best to make sure you were prepared for your exams but you’re a teenage girl and Jeno is a well-built guy matched with an attractive face, you just couldn’t help but be distracted.
The tension between you two increased “I already said I was sorry!” you blurt out in a high pitched voice and the ever so patient Jeno finally snaps “I spent so long-“ he slams both his hands down your desk and you were now face to face with him “I spent so damn long teaching you this damn biology lesson over and over again, y/n!” he groaned and you refused to make eye contact with him, sitting back in your chair. You dared to look up at him for a quick second and you felt his eyes burning holes right through you so you went back to fumbling with your hands.
“Just give me a good reason why you fucking failed the test we spent weeks studying for” and yet again, you stayed silent and emotionless to which he scoffed “you’re wasting both our times” he gave up and stood up fully, ready to pack his things and go but you couldn’t risk losing Jeno, now out of all times since you were already failing two subjects “wait I- I was distracted okay?!” he rolled his eyes, “really, y/n?” He said with a sarcastic tone, back still facing you “yes! I- I just- I got so distracted and everything just- poof! I forgot everything I learned” you tried to explain frantically and he turned to face you again “And what was this ‘distraction’ that was so much more appealing than passing your exam?” He crossed his arms, waiting for a decent explanation “you” you gathered every bit of courage to say it out loud but you were desperate to make him stay. He arched his brow in response “me?” you nod slightly while looking down as you didn’t want him to see the blood rushing to your cheeks from your growing embarrassment.
Needless to say, Jeno was intrigued by your answer, of course he was still mad about you failing your tests but he wanted to dig deeper into this ‘distraction’ of yours, after all, it was his job to make sure your head was straight and focused on studying.
He walked back up to your desk slowly “and how exactly was I distracting you, Miss y/l/n?” he tilted his head to the side, awaiting your answer “well you’re not exactly what I expected when I was told I was getting a tutor” you murmured and he hummed “how so?” you inhaled heavily, building up the confidence to tell him why exactly he was distracting you even though you both knew he already knows the reason why “well for starters, you’re hotter than 99% of the guys I’ve ever seen in my life..and you always wear that white button up with your sleeves rolled up to your arms. You always leave a few buttons unbuttoned, just enough for people to take a peek of what’s inside yet still leave some things for the imagination...” Jeno wasn’t dumb, he saw the way you would shuffle in your seat and go red whenever he said something particularly flirty. He knows that you wear that agonizingly short skirt and pull it up to your waist so it rides just above your thighs for him. The way you would sway your hips when he’s walking right behind you. How you would ‘accidentally’ let your pen slip from your hand so you could bend down in front of him just to pick it up which was so fucking unnecessary but it got him so worked up anyways. Jeno knew it but he wanted to hear it straight from you. His face didn’t show any emotion while you talked but he was definitely amused by your honesty “And don’t even get me started with your your hands, fuck they’re so veiny and hot, I can’t count the amount of times I’ve imagined them-“ you cleared your throat, stopping yourself from embarrassing yourself any further “hmm?.. why did you stop?” you swallowed thickly “I -uh-“ “you were talking about how you’ve been imagining my hands?”“I was just talking rubbish, never mind that..” he leaned down so he was eye level with you yet again “no, tell me more, I’m your tutor, am I not? It’s only fair for me to know about these distractions so we can find a way to fix them” you tucked your hair behind your ear and you didn’t know where the sudden confidence came from but something pushed you to spit it out “I’ve always imagined them wrapped around my neck” you kept looking down, not daring to look up even for a second “is that all?” you nod and you could not have been any less prepared for what he says next “You don’t imagine my fingers inside your pussy whenever you touch yourself? You don’t imagine yourself, legs spread on my desk while I fuck you into oblivion?” you looked at him and it was like he wasn’t affected by whatever was going on “n-no, I don’t” lies.
Jeno stood up fully again, grabbing the text book from his own desk “come here” he said as he motioned for you to come over with a single wave of his finger and you stood up from your seat, walking over to him.
He grabbed your waist and lifted you up on his desk and you yelped at his sudden action. He opened the text book and of course you were curious ”what are you doing?” “you wanted to work on distractions, right? Then answer my questions while I play with you” you only stared at him with your wide eyes, scared and excited about what’s to come next.
He lowered himself and lift up your skirt "let's start with the basics: what's the powerhouse of the cell?" he asks and your eyes gleamed, you knew this one. “It’s the mi-“ you were cut off when he slowly traced the insides of your thigh “the mi- what?” he taunts, his ego building up, knowing you’re already falling apart just with a simple touch “m-mitochondria” He smiled “very good. what’s the first step in meiosis and cell division?” “Prophase one?” he slowly took off your underwear and you can already imagine how dripping wet you are but your thoughts were focused in answering his questions that you basically ignored your arousal “good girl, now what’s the difference between prokaryotic and eukaryotic cells?” you spent a few seconds rummaging your brain for the answer and your face lit up when you got it “prokaryotic cells are uni-cellular while eukaryotic cells are multi-cellular!” he pushed your legs further apart, your glistening folds now fully exposed to him “mhmm, so tell me why you got all these questions wrong in your test?” he moves closer to your core and he looks up at you, awaiting your answer “I guess I just forgot” you said as you bit your lip innocently “then we’ll have to find a way to make you remember now, don’t we?” you looked straight at him and his eyes were dark with lust. He smiled but it wasn’t his typical ‘it’s okay that you made a mistake, we can fix it’ smile, it’s the type of smile that made it look like he was gonna eat you right then and there.
He licked a strip of your slit and you started to whimper to which Jeno of course, mentally took a note of “aww is my baby sensitive?” you nod frantically and he let out his infamous low chuckle “now, recite all the stages in mitosis, angel”
He was now giving kitten licks to your sensitive bud which left your mind all fuzzy “I-interphase, prophase, telophase-“ he continued to lap up your arousal and stuck his tongue in you which earned him a high pitched whine “metaphase, anaphase!!” you quickly answered in a whiny voice. He removes his mouth off of you and replaces it with his fingers and with the first push of his middle finger inside of you, he immediately tried to find your sweet spot “you wanna try that again, pup?” he was pushing in and out of you all while continuously rubbing circles on your clit, leaving you a whiny and stuttering mess “I-I..ahhh fuck-“ a string of curses and incoherent words left your mouth and Jeno was pleased at how your body was reacting to him but you haven’t answered his question yet “I’m not gonna ask you again. What are the stages in mitosis by order?” He added another finger and curled them both inside you, causing you to arch your back but he used his other hand to hold you in place “Interphase, Prophase— shit!” His fingers were moving faster by the second and you felt like you were gonna explode “Metaphase, Anaphase... FUCK!” you were so so close “is my baby close?” you nodded with an exasperated whine “please..” a reassuring smile was plastered on his face “just one more step and I’ll let you come, angel”
your mind was filling up with nothing but bliss and Jeno’s fingers inside you but you were so desperate to come, you tried to remember everything you learned with all the energy you have left “TELOPHASE!!” tears gathered in your eyes and Jeno was left with a satisfied grin “that’s my girl” and with that he hooked your legs over his shoulders, pulling you closer to him as he ate you out. You tasted so sweet; so heavenly and Jeno swore he just found his new addiction.
He felt your tiny hands gripping his hair and he knew he was doing something right. Seeing Jeno devour your cunt was the most sinful sight yet you have no means of stopping him “Fuck, right there! Shit—ahhh!” your whines only made him prod his tongue inside your hole deeper “g-gonna come!” you squealed and he rubbed your clit while licking you up and down which finally pushed you to the edge.
Jeno cleaned you up with his tongue some more and was ready to pull away. Having only just climaxed, you were sensitive but you wanted more. You wanted him to fill you up and use you to his hearts content “c-cock..” he shot his head up to look at your fucked out expression “hmm? what was that?” he wanted to make sure his ears weren’t deceiving him “I want your cock, please” he definitely heard that one right but he was still worried because he didn’t want to push you over your limit “are you sure you can take it, baby?” you nod your head, desperate to feel him inside you, and that’s all the reassurance Jeno needed before he pushed his pants down and released his thick member.
He was massive and you started to get a little worried if you can take all of him “is it gonna fit?” Jeno cooed at how you looked genuinely worried that his cock wasn’t gonna fit into your tiny little pussy so he held the side of your face, brushing his thumb over your cheeks to wipe off the mascara dripping down so prettily and making you look like a hot mess “oh baby, we’ll make it fit.” He rubbed his length up and down, the tip angry red and leaking with pre-cum. You wanted a taste of it but that just has to wait for another time.
“Are you ready, angel?” You gave him a small nod and he slowly started to push himself in, making sure not to hurt you. “So. Fucking. Tiny.” He could barely fit half of him inside you even when your cunt was already dripping wet from earlier. He had to pull himself all the way back out and push it all the way in again for him to bottom out and you swore you almost passed out. The stretch burned but you tried your best not to move around so much.
It took you a few more thrusts until you could somewhat take all of him in your hole but you still couldn’t get used to it. “J-jeno, you’re so b-big, please slow down!” you sobbed which only drove Jeno mad “What? Am I too big for you? Your tight cunt can’t take every inch of my cock?” you could only respond with sobs and pleas but your walls clenching around him said enough and it only boosted his ego even more “isn’t this what you wanted, baby? For me to fill your tiny hole with my fat cock?” He gets rid of his white button up and looks down at your tiny figure as he fucks into you. He noticed a little bulge forming on your lower abdomen each time he went in and it drove him insane seeing your little tummy take all of him so he smirked and took your hand to guide it on your stomach, feeling his cock hit your deepest parts and poke through you “look at your tummy, angel.. You feel that? That’s the only cock this little pussy will ever need” his filthy words were riling you up even more which you didn’t think was even possible and you were now practically begging him to go faster “so needy and pretty” he chuckled, how could Jeno ever say no to his little baby? He picked up his pace, thrusting into you at an inhumane speed.
He pulled your body up and you immediately hooked your arms around him, clawing your nails at his back “God, right there Jeno, fuck!” you were holding onto him for dear life and was uncontrollably clenching around his length “so fucking tight, angel. How are you even taking my cock?” you brought one of your hands to grip the back of his head and pulled him in for a hot make out session. He was catching all your moans and whines in his mouth and soon enough, the knot in your stomach started to form again and Jeno could tell you were close by the way your grip on his hair tightened and your walls contracted so much around him that he couldn’t even move properly.
He started to rub circles on your clit to aid you in reaching your climax and your whines became so needy and loud “Come for me me, angel. I wanna feel you all over my cock” and with just those magical words, you reached your second mind-blowing orgasm of the day and he slowly lied you back down as he thrusts into you a few more times, chasing his own high, leaving you shaking and whimpering from overstimulation “I got you, baby” he reassures, moving the strands of hair covering your face to give you a soft kiss on the lips “such a pretty angel”.
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puppyslufweb · 6 months ago
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❥ キャラクター ( ◜‿◝ ) ♥︎ ☹️//🌚 ~ 𝖲𝖫𝟎𝖶 𝖬𝖮𝖳𝟏𝖮𝖭 🧷ִֶָ オタクアンドゴシック♯ 𝖱𝖤𝖲𝖮𝗡𝗔𝗧𝗘 ★/☆ 。。 ▒⃨ ◾◽
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