n0hyuck

[n0hyuck]

damn guys i’m in love with him fr💔

[n0hyuck]

playing with fire

pairing: mark!haechan x fem. reader genre: college au, smut, rivals to fwbs wc: 12k+ summary: mark and haechan can't stand each other's guts, but they want the same girl... and maybe she wants them both, too. content warnings: unprotected sex, threesome, oral (f+m receiving), semi-public sex, multiple orgasms, sex tape, jealousy, marking, hand job, fingering, multiple orgasms (like a lot!!), double penetration, a little bit of mahae action (couldn’t help myself), orgasm denial, aftercare. a/n: all i’m gonna say is that this was completely self-indulgent. i just haven't been the same since 82+ pressin came out and this is the result. i don’t think i’ve ever written so much smut for a single fic before omg. it's rlly a lot i apologize in advance. ps: stream 82+ pressin, 1999 and the aoty aka the firstfruit.

all your life, people let you get away with things. maybe it was your soft face, your sweet smile, or the way you tilted your head when you lied. they thought you were innocent.

but anyone who actually knew you, knew better.

you were full of fire, tucked neatly into a deceptively small frame. and by fire, you meant you were horny. always had been. sex wasn’t your entire personality, you just liked it—frequently and with whoever could keep up. so when two gorgeous boys started fighting over you, you didn’t think twice. even if those boys hated each other’s guts.

you were just stepping into the cafeteria when a low whistle caught your attention. you glanced over your shoulder and saw haechan strolling in.

you rolled your eyes, but your lips twitched at the corners. 

“can’t stay away from me, huh?” you said when he finally caught up, his arm sliding over your shoulders easily.

“you know i can’t, pretty” he murmured, voice close enough to your ear to make you shiver. “you coming over tonight?”

you fold your arms across your chest, purposefully pressing your cleavage together. his eyes dropped right on cue. you knew he loved this shirt. or rather... he loved your tits in this shirt.

“i was there last night, hae. i can’t play favorites, it makes the other boys in my roster jealous,” you said sweetly, brushing a kiss to his cheek and stepping ahead.

“there’s no roster,” he said with a cocky grin, catching up easily. “i know that.”

“oh, don’t be so sure.” you waved at someone in the distance. haechan’s head turned just in time to catch mark lee smiling at you from across the room.

his face soured immediately. “mark lee? really?” he scoffed. “you can do better than that idiot.”

you looked at him, catching the slight twitch in his jaw. you smirked. their little rivalry was so amusing to you.

“remind me again why you hate him so much?” you ask as you drop into your seat. haechan slid in beside you, tugging your chair closer without effort.

“because he’s a manipulative dickhead who pretends to be some righteous good guy,” he muttered, fingers playing with the strap of your tank top.

“so... like half your friends?” you arched a brow. 

“why are we even talking about him? let’s talk about us” he groaned, leaning in to kiss you but you dodged, making his lips brush your neck instead.

“since when is there an us?” you laughed, pushing him off half-heartedly.

“since you let me fuck you against every surface in my dorm,” he said smugly.

“don’t think that makes you special,” you replied, patting his chest.

your hand lingered there a second longer, reminding you how toned he actually was. easy to forget with that sweet face and mouthy attitude.

“i’m definitely your favorite though,” haechan grinned, leaning in again and this time, you let him kiss you. his mouth moving slowly but greedily against yours.

across the room, mark was stabbing his lunch violently. his plastic knife bent halfway through his sandwich.

“okay, you’re scaring me,” jaemin said, side-eyeing him. “who’re you trying to murder with your eyes?”

“no one,” mark muttered, dragging his eyes away.

jaemin followed his gaze and snorted. “ohhh, is that your girl?”

“she’s not my girl,” mark grunted. “we’ve just been… talking.”

“yeah? well, looks like that’s all you’re gonna be doing,” chenle chuckled next to him, biting into his sandwich.

“fuck off” mark said, chucking a crumpled napkin at chenle’s face.

“i’m pretty sure she was with jay last semester,” jaemin added, watching mark’s reaction with barely concealed amusement.

“and wonbin,” chenle said through a mouthful of food.

mark’s jaw ticked. “what exactly are you guys trying to say?”

“relax,” chenle raised both hands, smirking. “we’re just saying she’s clearly not into exclusivity.”

“whatever,” mark muttered, pushing his chair back. “like i said, we’re just talking.”

“uh-huh, sure” jaemin said with a knowing grin. “play with fire if you want… just don’t act surprised when you get burned.”

┈─★

mark couldn’t stop thinking about what the guys had said. it wasn’t even like he wanted anything serious with you. but still, the way you clung to haechan, only to turn around and flirt with him like your eyes hadn’t just been heart-shaped for the biggest dumbass on earth… yeah, it was starting to piss him off.

he was stewing in that frustration, gripping the steering wheel harder than necessary on the way to the store, when he spotted your car on the side of the road.

he pulled up behind you without thinking.

your face lit up the second you saw him. you were sweaty and flushed from the heat, but still so damn pretty it made something sharp twist in his chest.

“mark!” you said his name with so much relief he had to glance away, suddenly shy.

“hey,” he said, climbing out of the car. “need help?”

“please… i don’t know what happened. it just died on me” you pouted, arms crossed under your chest. “i barely made it off the road."

mark blinked, trying not to focus on your lips—the same lips that had kissed all over his neck last week at that party.

“okay, let’s take a look,” he muttered, walking over to the hood you’d already popped open.

he leaned over the car and tried to focus, to remember what he even knew about engines. he wasn’t a mechanic, but he knew enough not to look stupid in front of you.

you stood beside him, your shoulder kept brushing against his arm every time you leaned in to “check” what he was doing.

“you think it’s serious?” you asked, biting your lip .

mark glanced at you from the corner of his eye. “hard to tell. your battery might’ve just died.”

“ugh, great,” you groaned dramatically, flopping against the side of the car. “this day already sucked.”

“you’re lucky i was driving by,” he said, wiping his palms on his shorts. “you could’ve been stuck here for a while.”

you smiled at him sweetly, reaching for his hair and playing with it. “thank you for rescuing me, my knight in shining armor.”

mark froze for half a second.

“don’t do that,” he said quietly, eyes still focused under the hood.

“do what?” your voice was all fake innocence, and when he finally looked at you properly, you were leaning back just enough for your shirt to ride up and show the barest strip of your waist.

“you know what” he muttered.

you tilted your head, teasing. “we’re just talking, mark.”

he exhaled sharply. “yeah, well... i’ve had enough of that.”

you blinked at him, not catching the double entendre fast enough. before you could say anything, he stepped closer. not touching you but close enough that his chest brushed yours.

“you keep looking at me like that, saying things like that and then you go and let haechan put his tongue down your throat in front of everyone,” he said, voice low and raspy. “and don’t say it doesn’t mean anything.”

you stared at him, heat curling in your stomach.

“i wasn't gonna say that”

mark gave you a dry laugh, shaking his head. “then stop playing with me.”

you smiled, slow and wicked. “maybe i want both of you.”

mark’s jaw clenched, his eyes dropping to your lips as he licked his own, and for a moment, you thought he might actually kiss you right then and there—hot, frustrated, angry.

instead, he took a step back.

“your battery’s dead,” he said, eyes still burning. “i’ll get mine and jump it.”

and just like that, he walked back to his car, leaving you breathless and grinning like a devil in the sun.

he popped the hood of his car and grabbed the jumper cables, avoiding your eyes the whole time. you watched him work with brows furrowed, arms flexing every time he connected something or reached for a clamp. he was mad.

and you loved it.

“okay, try turning it on now,” he called out, stepping aside.

you slid into the driver’s seat, turned the key, and the engine coughed before finally coming back to life.

“yay!” you grinned, hopping out. “mark, you’re a lifesaver.”

“don’t mention it,” he said, closing your hood.

you stepped out and leaned against the car again. “what would i do without you?”

he walked over slowly, wiping his hands on his shorts. “probably flash your pouty lips at some other poor guy and get him to do it for you.”

you raised an eyebrow. “are you calling me manipulative?”

“if the shoe fits.”

you took a step toward him. “you didn’t seem to mind when i was kissing you last week.”

“didn’t say i minded,” he said, voice low again. “but i’m not interested in being one of your toys.”

“aw,” you pouted the way you knew he couldn't resist. “but you play so well.”

mark’s mouth twitched.

“get in your car,” he said instead, walking away again.

“got tired of me already?” you called after him, teasing.

“no. i’m telling you to leave before i do something i’ll regret.”

you didn’t move. “like what?”

mark stopped and sighed, you giggled to yourself thinking you’d successfully managed to frustrate him. but then suddenly he turned back and stopped right in front of you, so close that your back was nearly pressed against the car.

“like remind you exactly what you’d be missing if you pick haechan,” he said, eyes flickering down to your lips.

you swallowed a smirk. this was so much more interesting than you thought it’d be.

you tried to lean into him, but he immediately backed up.

“drive safe,” he said, heading to his own car without looking back.

you stood there, heart racing, staring after him and thinking how you’d get both of them alone in a room without them trying to rip each other’s throats.

┈─★

you figured if you were ever going to bring up your little fantasy to life, mark needed to be wrapped around your finger first. haechan would be easy to convince—he was practically already halfway there. one breathy moan from you and he’d be on his knees.

mark, on the other hand… he needed more work. not because he wasn’t into you, but because he had that whole gentleman with a moral compass thing going on. sweet. respectful. frustratingly hard to seduce without making it feel like you were the one being played.

in other words, you had to lock in.

so instead of texting or sliding into his dms like usual, you started showing up where you knew he’d be. but this turned out to be more difficult since the guy was literally everywhere and nowhere at once. you found out from a mutual friend that he worked two jobs, volunteered for three different campus orgs, was part of the baseball team and somehow still managed to keep a spotless GPA.

you went to every place he frequented, including the music store where he part-timed at, but he wasn’t there, “you just missed him” the other workers said.

you almost gave up for the day until something caught your eye past the chainlink fence by the baseball field. someone was pitching solo.

and there he was, mark lee in all his sweaty glory.

“hey there, slugger,” you called out, leaning your arms on the fence as he straightened up and turned around, wiping sweat off his forehead with the hem of his shirt. it lifted just enough to show the cut of his abs.

he blinked at you in confusion for a second before recognition hit and his mouth tugged into a crooked little smile. “yo… what are you doing here?”

“you looked lonely,” you said, pushing the gate open and walking toward him, “mind if i keep you company?”

he shifted, catching the ball in his glove, clearly trying to be nonchalant but his eyes didn’t lie—they dragged over you like he hadn’t seen a girl in weeks. you were wearing a tank top you knew made your tits look phenomenal, and you were sure he noticed.

“sure,” he said, scratching the back of his neck. “i’m just messing around, anyway.”

“well, i like messing around,” you replied, tone smooth as honey, letting the double meaning land. 

mark chuckled nervously. he was flustered, a cute little blush spread across his cheeks and down his neck. you were definitely getting to him.

“you want a turn?” he asked, gesturing to the bat.

you raised an eyebrow, stepping closer. “are we still talking baseball?”

his lips twitched. “depends… what are you talking about?”

you reached for the bat, letting your hand graze his fingers. “guess you’ll have to find out.”

“you ever even held one of these before?”

you took it, pretending to examine it seriously. “i mean, i’ve seen a league of their own like… twice.”

mark laughed, the sound bright and easy. “that’s a start.”

he showed you how to stand and the proper way to hold the bat, stepping in behind you with a respectful distance—no unnecessary touching or cheap moves. you could feel his warmth at your back, his voice in your ear as he adjusted your grip.

“okay, just swing through when the ball comes in. don’t overthink it.”

“easy for you to say, coach.” you glanced over your shoulder and caught his eyes on yours.

for a second, neither of you moved. you realized how pretty his eyes were from this close, they were round and bright looking at you.

then he stepped back and toward the pitching mound with a sheepish little smile. 

“alright, give it a shot.”

your first swing was absolutely tragic.

mark laughed again, clapping once. “okay, that was adorable but we should review the basics.”

the next twenty minutes passed like that—him showing you how to swing properly, you pretending to take it seriously just to mess with him. you both ended up out of breath from laughing more than anything else. and by the end of it, you were glowing in the sun, hair a mess, tank top slightly clinging to your skin.

“okay, okay,” you finally said, wiping sweat from your brow, “i need a break.”

mark nodded, picking up the scattered balls. “dugout’s over there. i’ll grab us some water.”

you ducked into the dugout, the shade instantly soothing your sun-warmed skin. your legs were a little shaky from all the running around, but your heart wasn’t only thudding because of the exercise. you watched mark jog over to the cooler, shirt sticking to his back, his hair damp and curling at the edges. he looked so good it was unfair.

he came back with two bottles of water and handed you one, settling beside you on the bench. his thigh brushed against yours briefly before he shifted away to give you some space.

“not bad out there,” he said, twisting open his bottle. “your form’s a little weak, but you’ve got potential.”

“mm, and here i was trying to impress you,” you said, sipping. “guess i’ll have to try harder.”

he huffed a soft laugh and glanced sideways at you. “you’re doing fine, just… need a little discipline.”

“are you volunteering for the job?” you tilted your head.

mark stayed silent for a second. he was watching the field now, fingers drumming lightly on the bottle in his hand. “i know what you're doing”

you raised a brow. “oh yeah?”

“you don’t need someone messing around with your head. or your body. you deserve more than some dumb fling.”

you leaned back on your hands, letting your knees fall slightly open, enough to test him. “you ever think maybe i don’t want more?”

his jaw tensed. he didn’t look at you right away, he was trying really hard to keep his eyes anywhere but your legs. “you don’t mean that.”

“i do,” you said simply. “you think i don’t know what i want?”

he finally looked at you and the way his eyes moved over your face—it wasn’t lust. it was frustration. like he wanted to do something but had spent his whole life learning to hold back.

you leaned in, your voice softer now. “you keep talking like i’m some sweet girl who needs protecting, mark. but i don’t want that from you.”

he swallowed hard. “what do you want, then?”

you smiled, slow and a little dangerous. “i want you to stop pretending like you don’t want this too.”

he blinked, then he exhaled and rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, laughing under his breath like he couldn’t believe what he was about to do.

“this is a bad idea,” he murmured.

“maybe,” you said, leaning just a little closer. “but i promise it’ll feel good”

mark didn’t answer but his eyes dropped to your mouth and stayed there. he looked like he was working through every possible reason to pull away, but none were winning.

“you should probably leave,” he said after a beat, voice rough. “before i forget how to be a good guy.”

you leaned in so your leg was now on top of his. “i’m not asking you to be a good guy, mark.”

he closed his eyes and shook his head. “don’t say that.”

“why not?”

“because if i touch you like i want to,” his eyes opened again, darker now. “i won’t be able to stop.”

“good,” you said, voice low. “i don’t want you to.”

he turned toward you, one hand gripping the bench behind you.

“you’re not making this easy,” he said.

“i know, but you can trust me”

his gaze flicked to your lips again. then your neck. then back to your eyes.

“you’re serious?”

you nodded, slow. “you think i’d be here if i wasn’t?”

mark let out a breath through his nose. “fuck.”

you watched his knuckles flex on the bench, how he was clearly using every ounce of willpower to stay still. his shoulders were angled toward you now. his jaw was tight, eyes darting like he was thinking ten steps ahead and still getting stuck on you.

you reached out, brushing your fingers over his forearm. “if you’re gonna kiss me, just do it already.”

he didn’t move right away but when he did, it was careful. one hand slid behind your neck, thumb brushing just under your ear as he leaned in. his lips touched yours softly.

but you didn’t want soft.

you pushed in, lips parting just enough to deepen the kiss, and that was when his restraint cracked. his other hand found your waist, pulling you closer, pressing you into the bench. he kissed you harder this time, all that tension finally bleeding through.

you smiled against his mouth, whispering, “see? doesn’t that feel better than being good?”

his answer was a low groan against your lips, his hand slid up, fingertips grazing the bare skin where your top had ridden up. he paused there, like he was waiting for you to stop him.

you didn’t.

instead, you moved into him, straddling his lap without breaking the kiss. his breath hitched the moment your hips settled against his, and that tiny reaction was all the confirmation you needed. he wanted this as much as you did. even if part of him was still trying to talk himself out of it.

“touch me more,” you said, tilting your head to nip at his jaw. 

his hands finally slid under your shirt, splaying across your back, pulling you flush against him. your body molded to his like it had always belonged there, and his lips found yours again.

your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging gently, and he groaned low in his throat. his hips bucked up before he could stop himself, and your breath caught when you felt how hard he already was under you.

his hands moved lower over your ass, gripping tight as he shifted you against him again. it was getting hotter in the dugout, clothes sticking to skin, breaths growing uneven. your lips were swollen, your thighs shaking just slightly from the tension. he kissed down your neck, tongue brushing a spot that made your spine arch.

“fuck,” he whispered, his lips ghosting along your jaw. “you drive me crazy.”

you rolled your hips again and mark’s head dropped back with a groan. his hands moved higher under your shirt, fingers brushing the band of your bra before hesitating.

you tugged your shirt up a little more for him, eyes locked on his. “you don’t have to ask.”

his gaze flicked up to yours and then he pulled your shirt off in one smooth motion, his mouth going straight to your collarbone, trailing heat down your neck. one of his hands cradled the back of your head while the other held your waist steady as you started grinding down against him again, both of you breathing harder now.

his fingers found the clasp of your bra behind you, fumbling only once before it came loose. the second it did, his mouth was on you, leaving open-mouthed kisses across your chest as your hips rolled harder.

you dipped your head, kissed the top of his ear, and whispered, “mark.”

it came out breathy, almost reverent. the sound of his name from your lips snapped whatever restraint he had left. his hands gripped your thighs, and in one quick movement, he stood—lifting you effortlessly as you clung to him, legs tightening around his waist.

your back hit the dugout wall with a soft thud, and he was on you again. teeth grazing your neck now, nipping and licking and kissing like he wanted to mark every inch of your skin.

you gasped, hips rolling against the hard press of him through his jeans. he hissed through his teeth, grinding back.

“mark, more please.” you moaned, eyes locked on his.

he growled something filthy and wrecked and then his hands were tugging at your waistband, fingers slipping beneath to palm the curve of your ass again, rougher this time. you arched into him, head tipping back as he pressed hot kisses along your throat, sucking hard enough to bruise.

your shorts ended up somewhere on the floor along with your shirt. and mark—sweet, tortured, trying-to-be-good mark—was rutting against you like he’d lost his damn mind.

“tell me what you want,” he said into your skin, breath hot and shaky.

you leaned in, lips at his ear. “everything.”

he groaned like the word punched him in the gut. his hand teased over the edge of your panties, fingers just barely brushing where you were soaked for him. he inhaled sharply, head dropping to your shoulder, and you could feel his restraint fracturing all over again. 

“jesus christ,” he muttered, voice wrecked. “we shouldn't be doing this here.”

he barely registered the sound of your breathless laugh before you dropped to your knees, eyes locked on his as your hands slid up his thighs. he looked down at you like he couldn’t believe what was happening.

“let me give you what you need,” you murmured, undoing the button on his jeans with practiced ease. 

“fuck,” mark breathed, eyes fluttering shut as your fingers brushed over him through the fabric of his boxers. he was so hard it looked like it hurt. you smiled seeing his reaction as you traced the outline of his cock.

he looked like he wanted to say something—some last-minute plea for control—but then you tugged his boxers down and wrapped your hand around him.

his knees nearly buckled.

you leaned in, lips brushing the flushed tip, tongue teasing just enough to make him choke on a groan. he gripped the edge of the dugout bench behind him to keep himself from falling over.

“shit—fuck, baby, please—” his voice cracked as you took him in deeper, mouth hot and wet and so fucking perfect. his hand found your hair, fingers trembling as he tried to resist the urge to thrust into your mouth.

you wanted him to lose it. wanted him unhinged.

you bobbed your head slowly at first, letting him feel every inch of your tongue, your lips, the way your throat clenched around him. when you moaned, his hips jerked and he cried out.

“jesus, i’m not—fuck, i’m not gonna last.”

you pulled off with a slick pop. “it’s okay, cum for me markie.”

before you could take him backs into your mouth again, he hauled you up, lips crashing into yours roughly. his hands found your ass again, lifting you onto the bench like you weighed nothing. your panties were gone in seconds and then he was pressed against you, panting against your mouth.

“you’re sure?” he whispered, voice shredded

you stared into his eyes, wrapped your legs around his waist, and said, “mark. fuck me already.”

not a second after, he was slamming into you with a guttural groan, burying himself to the hilt in one desperate thrust. the air was knocked from your lungs, nails scraping down his back as your bodies locked together in the filthiest kind of synchronicity.

his rhythm was brutal from the start, hips crashing into yours like he’d waited years for this. like every time he'd looked at you, every time he’d jerked off with your name on his lips, had been leading to this exact moment.

“you feel so fucking good,” he panted against your neck. “i can’t—I’m gonna—fuck, you’re perfect.”

you were both sweating, panting, lost in each other. the dugout echoed with obscene sounds of skin slapping skin and your moans mixing with his broken groans.

“i’m close,” he whispered, forehead pressed to yours, voice wrecked. “tell me where you want it. please, baby—tell me.”

your fingers gripped his jaw, lips brushing his. “inside. fill me up.”

he moaned your name—screamed it, even—as he came, body shaking, strong arms locked around you. he held you through every wave, and didn’t stop fucking you until you came seconds after.

when it was over, when your bodies were spent and trembling, he collapsed against you, breathing hard, mouth still pressed to your neck.

“that was fucking amazing,” he whispered, laughing breathlessly.

you kissed the side of his head and smiled, knowing that you had him exactly where you wanted him.

┈─★

the rest of your week was spent with mark, who– slowly and against his better judgment– was developing a full-blown addiction to you.

but you couldn’t neglect the other half of your fantasy.

which is why you were now outside haechan’s dorm. he’d been ignoring your messages for days, which wasnt like him at all. and you were almost sure it had to do with how often you'd been with mark lately. 

you walked in without knocking and found him in front of his pc, hand stuffed into his sweats, fist working himself slow to some filthy porn on the screen.

he didn’t even notice you walking in at first due to his headphones. but he must've felt you behind him because he jolted, yanked his hand out, and scrambled to close the tab like you hadn’t already seen everything.

he spun around in his chair, cheeks flaming, trying to hide the clear tent in his pants.

“ever heard of knocking?” his voice came out annoyed but strained.

you crossed your arms, amused. “is this what you’ve been ignoring me for? gooning in your room all day?”

he didn’t answer, just looked anywhere but at you.

you stepped in closer and looped your arms around his neck.

“don’t be mad,” you whispered, brushing your lips close to his ear. “i came here because i missed you.”

“really?” he finally muttered, still not looking at you. “what happened to your new boy toy?”

“don’t tell me you’re jealous,” you said with a little smile. “mark’s not the first guy i’ve been with since our arrangement. i thought you were fine with that.”

he scoffed. “yeah, well… the other guys weren’t fucking idiots.” his eyes finally flicked to yours, dark and sharp. “plus, i doubt he makes you feel as good as i do.”

“then do something about it,” you whispered, dragging your nails along the nape of his neck. “remind me why i started fucking you in the first place.”

his hands were on you in a flash.

he grabbed your waist and hauled you onto his lap. the second you straddled him, he bit your bottom lip before kissing you deep.

“you want a reminder?” he growled “fine, but you’re gonna take what i give you”

you ground down against him and felt how hard he still was. this wasn’t some casual rebound fuck to him—this was territory. there was rage and lust and twisted affection in every move he made.

his fingers tugged your shirt up, mouth trailing fire along your neck, teeth scraping and marking.

“bet he doesn’t know how to touch you like this,” he murmured, slipping a hand under your waistband and cupping your already wet pussy. “bet he doesn’t even know what you like.”

“he’s learning,” you teased, smirking just to provoke him.

he scoffed and shoved your panties aside, pushing two fingers into you at once, hard enough to make your hips jerk.

“not like this,” he whispered darkly. “he can’t make you this wet with just his fingers, can he?”

you gasped, clutching at his shoulders as he curled his fingers deeper.

“god, you’re such a little slut for attention,” he chuckled “running to him just because he’s nice? is that what you want? a nice little boy?”

you could barely breathe now, body rocking into his hand with every word.

“you don’t want nice,” he hissed. “you want me. you want the one who knows how to break you and put you back together with a single fuck.”

your moan came out broken and sharp, your hips grinding down faster now. he was watching you fall apart, biting his lip like it was the only thing keeping him from slamming you down on the floor and reminding the entire dorm who you belonged to.

“say it,” he demanded. “say i’m the one you want. say his name doesn’t mean shit to you when you’re dripping for me like this.”

“you are,” you choked out. “you’re the only one i want, hae.”

he shoved his chair back with a grunt, stood with you still wrapped around him, and carried you to the bed. dropping you onto the mattress with a promise in his eyes, already yanking his sweats down.

“gonna fuck you so hard you forget what his voice even sounds like,” he muttered.

and from the look in his eyes—you knew he meant it.

he crawled over you, and with a quick peck to your lips, he slid his cock into you. you were so familiar with his size after so many fucks that it didn't take long for you to adjust and for him to start moving.

he switched your positions quickly, knowing how much you liked riding him. his mouth was on your chest, spit-slick and possessive, and his hips snapped up in a brutal rhythm from below you. he’d been talking the entire time— filthy words laced with jealousy and obsession.

“so fucking wet for me,” he groaned into your skin. “he could never get you like this.”

you moaned louder at that, clenching around him.

haechan reached over without breaking his rhythm, grabbing your phone from the desk behind him. you barely noticed at first, lost in the sensation of him buried so deep inside you, but then you heard the soft ding.

he pointed the camera down, letting it capture the view between your thighs, where you were split open and soaked, riding his cock like your life depended on it.

“what are you doing?” you gasped, half-laughing, half-panting.

“just making something for your little boyfriend,” haechan said with a smirk, his voice syrup-thick and mean. “he probably wants to know what you’ve been up to.”

he angled the camera to get your face, your tits, your hips grinding down as he fucked up into you. his hand slid up your stomach, fingers wrapping around your throat just enough to make your pulse jump under his thumb.

“look at the camera, baby,” he purred. “let’s show mark how you really beg.”

you bit your lip but obeyed, dragging your gaze to the lens. your expression was wrecked—eyes glassy, mouth open, cheeks flushed.

“that’s it,” he growled, snapping his hips up even harder. “show him who you belong to.”

the hand not holding the phone slid down your spine, grabbed your ass, and slammed you down onto him with a force that made the bed frame groan.

“you hear that, mark?” haechan muttered into the mic, his voice suddenly colder. “this is what your little good girl sounds like when someone actually knows how to use her.”

you whimpered shamelessly, as his cock dragged right against that spot inside you that made your vision spark white.

“she’s squeezing me like she’s never been fucked before,” haechan kept going, still holding the phone. “you ever get her like this, huh? you ever make her cum just from your cock and a few mean words?”

 he thrust into you hard and deep, so deep you cried out, fingers scrabbling at his shoulders.

“oh, that’s so much better,” he grunted, pulling back and slamming in again. “bet he doesn’t hit that spot, hm? bet he doesn’t know how deep you like it.”

you moaned loudly, the sound echoing against the dorm walls. he held the phone steady with one hand and gripped your jaw with the other, turning your face to the lens.

“tell him who makes you cum.”

you gasped. “haechan—fuck—you, you do—”

he grinned like the devil.

“good girl.”

the sound of skin slapping, the way your body arched into every thrust, the sweet, broken whines he pulled out of you—it was all being captured. and he made sure of it. shifting the angle, filming your tits bouncing, your fingers clawing at his shoulders, your lips mouthing please, more without even realizing it.

“gonna send this to him,” he muttered darkly, “maybe i’ll wait ‘til he’s all alone at night, thinking about you and then—bam.” he snapped his hips harder, making you gasp. “he’ll see you stuffed full of my cock.”

you clenched around him and he hissed.

“yeah, you like that. you love being filmed, dirty little thing.”

you were shaking now, pleasure boiling up in your gut as he kept fucking into you with brutal precision. all while recording you. all while imagining mark’s face when he saw you like this.

your thighs were already trembling from how many times you’d rolled your hips over him, the coil in your lower stomach drawn so tight you could scream.

haechan’s hands gripped your waist, keeping you just barely in rhythm as you rode him, the slow drag of his cock inside you leaving you teetering at the edge. your hands braced against his chest, fingernails digging into his sweaty skin. you were so close you could taste it.

“that’s it,” he murmured, voice gone low and raspy. “fuck yourself on me. let mark see how desperate you get.”

“haechan—fuck, please—i’m gonna cum—”

suddenly, his hands snapped up to your hips and stopped you. his cock still twitching inside you but he wasn't moving anymore.

“no, you’re not,” he said, eyes dark. “not yet.”

your head fell forward, lips parted in disbelief. “what?”

he leaned in closer, lips brushing your throat. “you wanna cum?” he asked, and you nodded, hips instinctively trying to grind down again.

he didn’t let you.

“then beg for it. look into the camera and beg for me.”

you shuddered. his voice wasn’t teasing anymore. it was burning hot with jealousy and the need to have control over you.

“tell mark you’re not allowed to come unless i say so. tell him you’re mine.”

you stared at him, wide-eyed, chest heaving, and then turned your head to the camera. your voice shook as you whispered, “please… please let me come. i need it. i can’t take it, hae, i—”

his hand slid up your back, grabbing your hair and tugging gently so your neck arched. he bit along your jaw, voice low and sharp against your ear.

“say it like you mean it. say it loud. i want him to hear what a needy little slut you turn into when you don’t get what you want.”

you swallowed, lips trembling. “please…please, hae, i’ll do anything…just let me come—”

“nah,” he muttered, tightening his grip and slamming up into you once. once. just enough to make you cry out and chase the friction, but not enough to give you what you needed.

“you don’t get to cum until i say so. and i’m not saying shit until you look into that camera and tell mark whose cock you fucking love.”

your body was on fire, everything inside you begging for release, but you obeyed. because your orgasm lived in his hands now.

“it’s yours,” you gasped, eyes flicking to the lens. “it’s always been yours. not his. he can’t fuck me like you do.” you lied.

“mmm, now that’s the energy,” he grinned, hand trailing down between your legs to barely graze your clit. “feel that? you want it, don’t you?”

“yes, yes, please—i need it—”

“you’ll take every fucking inch, keep grinding that soaked little pussy on me slow, and i’ll think about letting you come.”

you did as he said. he made you ride him in slow, teasing circles. every drag was torturous, your body screaming for a release you weren’t allowed to have. tears prickled in your lashes, your mouth open in a string of whispered begs.

“look how perfect you are when you’re desperate,” he murmured, finally rubbing slow circles over your clit. “this is what he needs to see. you fucking breaking apart on my cock.”

you whimpered something incoherent, your entire body trembling when he finally granted it.

“cum for me, baby. show him what he’ll never fucking have.”

you shattered instantly, mouth open in a silent scream, grinding down on him with a rhythm you couldn’t even control anymore. and he filmed all of it. the high-pitched moans, the tears, the way you collapsed against his chest completely undone. and when his orgasm hit soon after, he captured his cum dripping out of your used cunt. 

when your breathing slowed and your thighs stopped shaking, he clicked off the recording and kissed your temple.

“that should keep him up at night.”

┈─★

the next time you saw mark, it was at a party hosted by one of the student organizations. haechan was there too, for your pleasure, and you knew tonight was going to be the night you finally brought your twisted fantasy to life.

the plan was simple. get both of them to your apartment. 

and it was all going well until haechan yanked you into the bathroom, and before you could even think, you were on your knees, taking him in your mouth.

by the time you left the bathroom, your makeup was a mess. the lipstick smeared across your face was a dead giveaway of what youd been doing. haechan went off to get a drink, and you quietly retreated to the living room, sitting in front of a mirror to fix your face.

mark was talking to his friends across the room, but his eyes never left you. he hadn’t spoken to you in a week after receiving the video. he was pissed, sure, but it wasn’t as though he was surprised. he knew you had some kind of relationship with haechan. but to film it and send it to him? that shit crossed a line.

what bothered him most was that he couldn’t bring himself to delete the video. every night, he ended up jerking off to it, his mind filled with the image of you begging for that jerk’s cock.

he noticed haechan walk by, nodding to a few people along the way. when their eyes met, he smirked and started walking toward him.

mark’s lip curled into a scowl as the younger boy stopped in front of him, leaning casually against the wall.

“what’s up, lee?” haechan’s voice was light, almost too fucking smug. he slapped mark’s back with exaggerated force. jaemin and chenle exchanged glances and walked off when they caught the tension.

“did you get my video?” haechan asked, his eyes still glinting behind his cup, the stupid little grin never fading.

“i did,” mark replied coldly. his voice was almost a growl, thick with disgust. “what kind of man records a lady during sex?”

haechan chuckled. “if you watched the video, you’d know she was very much into it.”

mark’s jaw clenched “whatever. you don’t fucking deserve her,” he spat, his words dripping with venom.

“and you do?” haechan raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. “please, she’s not into the whole gentleman act.”

mark’s smirk was all teeth now “then why does she keep coming back to me?”

haechan’s eyes narrowed, but the grin never left his face. “her lip gloss is still all over my cock, so i’d say there’s really no competition here…”

mark’s hand shot out, slapping the drink from haechan’s grip. he grabbed the younger boy by the collar, yanking him in close. everyone around them hushed and someone muttered oh shit.

that’s when you stood up and pushed your way through the crowd. when you reached them, you shoved them apart with a force that surprised even you.

“what do you two think you’re doing?”

your voice cut through the room like a whip—sharp enough to make a few of the partygoers flinch. mark’s fist was still clenched in haechan’s shirt, and haechan didn’t look even the slightest bit bothered. in fact, the smug bastard looked like he was thriving in the chaos, like he’d been waiting for this moment all goddamn week.

mark let go first, reluctantly, his eyes still locked on haechan’s. “he started it,” he muttered like a sulking schoolboy who’d just been caught throwing punches behind the gym.

“bullshit,” haechan scoffed, brushing off where mark had touched him. “he’s just mad he’s not the one you were sucking off ten minutes ago.”

you grabbed mark’s wrist before he could swing. “enough.” you looked at both of them. “you’re both acting like idiots. are we seriously doing this now? at a party?”

“he's talking about you like you’re some kind of trophy.” mark growled.

haechan scoffed. “oh, please” 

you could feel the eyes of half the party watching the drama with beers in hand. you tilted your head, walking up between them.

“you two are being childish.”

mark’s eyes dipped down to your lips, shiny from the fresh coat of gloss. a hint of it still smeared down your chin as a confirmation of everything haechan just said. he hated that no matter how pissed he was, he still wanted to grab you, shove you against the wall, and remind you how good he could make you feel.

“so, how about you stop wasting time on this pathetic pissing contest…” you continued, circling behind them slowly, “and come dance with me.”

you walked straight toward the dance floor, the bass vibrating through your heels and into your spine. you didn’t even turn to see if they were behind you. you already knew they were.

you stepped into the crowd, backlit by strobes, and then turned around slowly, one hand held out toward mark. his brows knit together at first, unsure. then he stepped in, hand sliding into yours.

your other hand reached for haechan, and that cocky smile curled across his lips before he grabbed your waist instead, pulling himself flush against your side.

“what’s this, baby?” haechan murmured against your ear.

you just smiled and rolled your hips into him at the rhythm of the music.

mark stood closer now, his chest brushing yours with every beat. his hands hovered like he didn’t know where he was allowed to touch, until you guided one to your hip.

you tipped your head up and kissed him first. your fingers fisted in his shirt as your lips dragged across his—tongue sliding against his until he forgot why he was mad in the first place.

but then you pulled away and turned, grabbing haechan by the jaw and kissing him too. open-mouthed. filthy. 

you felt mark tense behind you. you could almost hear his breath hitch as he watched.

but you didn’t stop.

your hand reached behind you, pulling mark closer until he was pressed against your back. your lips were still on haechan’s when your other arm looped around mark’s neck, forcing them both into your orbit.

in the chaos, in the rhythm and push and pull of bodies, your head tilted just enough to make room, and their mouths brushed.

they didn’t even realize at first. your body was between them, but it was hard to see whose hands were where, whose breath was in whose lungs. they were kissing each other before they even registered it. and when they did?

there was a second of stunned silence between them, and they both froze.

“fuck,” haechan muttered.

mark stared at him like something short-circuited behind his eyes. and then he kissed him again, rougher this time. 

you looked at them with a victorious smile on your lips.

when they pulled away, lips swollen and chests heaving, you saw the look on both their faces—equal parts frustration and lust. and you knew… this was the moment you had been waiting for.

you didn’t even wait for the song to end.

your hand shot out, fingers latching onto the front of mark’s jacket, then you grabbed haechan’s wrist and tugged them both forward.

“we’re leaving,” you said, voice low but commanding.

mark looked like he wanted to argue but you didn’t give him the chance.

you turned on your heel and walked out.

and like the two moths they were, they followed the flame.

┈─★

your apartment door slammed shut behind them, the tension snapping into something feral the second the lock clicked.

“you—” mark started, but you cut him off with a kiss. filthy, fast, and impatient. his hands went straight to your waist, pressing you back against the wall as his mouth opened under yours. he tasted like alcohol and haechan.

the later boy soon stepped behind you.

his hands slid under your shirt, palms hot against your bare skin, and his mouth was right by your ear. “so you really want both of us, huh?” he whispered, “you’re that fucking greedy.”

you reached back blindly, curling your fingers into his hair as you pulled away from mark.

“i want to figure out who deserves me more.”

haechan shoved mark backward—not hard, but enough to reclaim space. and mark let it happen for a second, jaw tight, watching as haechan spun you to face him and kissed you deep, tongue fucking into your mouth.

but then mark was there again. his hands on your hips, his chest flush with your back, and this time, he kissed haechan.

really kissed him. it wasn’t an accident or in heat-of-the-moment.

mark leaned around you, lips capturing haechan’s mid-moan, his fingers curling into your waistband as their mouths crashed. it was clumsy at first and then it turned hungry.

the three of you moved together, a mess of hands and mouths and breathless gasps. clothing peeled away between kisses, bodies pressing against each other with no room left for shame. by the time you hit the couch, you were half-naked and drenched in anticipation.

you shoved mark down first, straddling his lap, grinding against him as haechan knelt beside you.

“who gets to fuck you first?” haechan asked, his voice hoarse and teasing.

you smiled, biting your lip as you looked down at mark.

mark's breath hitched beneath you, his eyes flicked up and then down to where your soaked panties were rubbing against the thick outline of his cock through his jeans.

"fuck," he muttered, head tipping back against the couch as you rolled your hips again, just to watch him squirm.

haechan had one hand running up your thigh, the other palming the bulge in mark’s jeans with a wicked little grin. his own erection poking through his boxers

"you're both hard already," you whispered, your voice sweet and venomous. you leaned forward, brushing your lips against mark's ear. "and i haven’t even gotten naked yet."

"then fucking do it," mark growled.

"ask nicer," you cooed.

haechan laughed, low and breathy.  then he kissed your inner thigh, right above where the fabric was sticking to your soaked cunt, and said, "i’ll ask for him—take it off, baby."

you stood up and pulled your shirt over your head. no bra. both of their eyes dropped to your chest in an almost comical way. you hooked your thumbs into your panties and slid them down. by the time you were naked, both boys looked like they were seconds from breaking.

you dropped to your knees between them and unzipped mark’s jeans first, pulling his cock free and stroking him slowly, twisting your wrist the way you knew made his eyes roll back. he groaned, head falling forward to watch you. 

then, without warning, you leaned sideways and took haechan into your mouth instead.

mark cursed under his breath. haechan let out a deep, shaky breath, hand immediately tangling in your hair. you sucked him slow, wet, deep, letting the mess coat your lips as you kept stroking mark at the same time.

“you’re unreal,” haechan gasped, hips twitching. “fucking slut.”

you pulled off with a filthy pop, a string of spit connecting your lips to the head of his cock. "you like watching, mark?" you asked, turning your head just enough to meet his eyes as you jerked them both off side by side. "you like seeing how good i take his cock?"

mark's nostrils flared. then his hand was in your hair too, tugging you toward him, and you let him push into your mouth—let him fuck into your throat until you gagged, until your eyes watered, until his cock was slick with spit.

“jesus christ,” he muttered, voice ragged. 

haechan reached over and grabbed mark’s jaw, turning his face toward him to kiss him.

their mouths crashed messily. they kissed like they hated each other for how much they wanted this.

you sat back, breathless, watching their lips collide with yours on both their cocks, and you moaned—because this was it. this was your fantasy.

they broke apart with a gasp, and you grinned.

"let’s go to my room," you said.

but you barely made it down the hall before haechan spun you around and pressed you to the wall, his mouth crashing into yours. he kissed like he wanted to bruise you. hands groping, lips biting, tongue deep and fast and hungry.

mark’s hand was already sliding up under your thigh, lifting your leg so he could step in behind you. his breath ghosted over your neck, and his voice was a low growl against your skin.

“you like letting him touch you like that?” he asked, pressing his hips into your ass so you could feel exactly what he meant. “you gonna let me fuck you after he’s had his way with you?”

you moaned, letting your head fall back onto mark’s shoulder as haechan’s hand slid down your front and cupped your pussy, two fingers slipping through the mess between your legs.

“she’s soaked,” haechan smirked. “god, you’re such a filthy little thing.”

“fucking ours,” mark said, and even haechan didn’t argue with that.

they walked you to the bed like wolves with prey between their teeth. when you climbed onto the mattress, you didn’t even get time to settle because mark grabbed your hips and flipped you onto your stomach, pulling your ass up and spreading you wide.

haechan knelt in front of you, his cock already leaking. “open that pretty mouth again, baby.”

you did. obedient, dripping, desperate.

mark’s fingers slid into you from behind as haechan pushed into your mouth. your moan vibrated around his cock, and he cursed under his breath, thrusting deeper. mark’s pace picked up, his fingers curling just right—fucking you open, getting you ready.

"you’re gonna take us both,” mark said, and it wasn’t a question.

he lined up behind you just as haechan pulled back, breath ragged, stroking himself as he watched your ass push back toward mark instinctively. mark slid in slowly, inch by inch until you were full.

"fuck—" mark’s voice cracked. "you feel s’good."

haechan grabbed your chin to tilt your face up. “look at me while he fucks you,” he said, voice thick with lust. “wanna see your face when you cum all over his cock”

mark started thrusting harder, faster. your hands clawed at the sheets, moans falling from your lips in broken little gasps as your body rocked between them. haechan was watching every twitch of your face mesmerized.

and then he kissed you again, teeth dragging your lower lip before he shoved his cock back into your mouth.

it was obscene.

mark pounding into you, cock hitting the deepest spot inside your gummy walls, while you choked around haechan’s cock, spit dripping down your chin and onto the sheets. both of them moaning and touching you like they didn’t care if they left bruises so long as you kept begging for more.

“fuck—” haechan’s voice cracked, hips twitching as your mouth kept taking him, sloppy and hungry. “gonna cum on your tongue, baby. don’t even think about stopping. take it. take it.”

behind you, mark’s breath was a rough growl against your ear, his grip digging harshly into your hips as he drove into you desperately.

“you feel this?” he hissed, voice shaking. “tight little cunt, soaked and squeezing the fuck out of me. you like being used like this, don’t you?”

 you moaned so hard it came out as a choke around haechan’s cock, spit and precum leaking from the corners of your mouth.

your orgasm ripped through you like a scream you couldn’t voice, your thighs shaking, core clenching so hard around mark he nearly lost it.

“fuckfuckfuck—” he groaned, ramming into you until his hips stuttered and he came deep inside you, cursing through gritted teeth as you milked every drop from him.

haechan didn’t stop. even after mark collapsed forward against your back, he kept thrusting into your mouth, hips slapping your cheeks as he muttered incoherently, “fucking angel like this… ruined slut… fuck—”

your eyes rolled back, drool spilling past your lips as he came with a loud moan. his cum flooded your mouth so fast you gagged on it. he didn’t even pull out right away but just held your head there, watching your throat work as you tried to swallow around the mess.

mark looked down, chest still heaving. “jesus,” he muttered, watching the cum drip off your chin, pooling under you. “she looks fucking destroyed.”

your body collapsed face-down across the sheets, arms trembling, legs still spread and twitching. your skin burned from the heat of them, from their hands, their mouths. and still—they weren’t done.

mark sat up slowly, eyes locked on the cum leaking down your thighs. he reached down without a word, dragged two fingers through it, and spread it back up into you.

“don’t waste it,” he muttered, his voice low, hoarse. “not after you begged for it.”

haechan was still in front of you, watching the whole thing with a lazy grin. he leaned in, wiped the mess from your chin with his thumb, and smeared it back across your lips. “open.”

you did.

he shoved his thumb in, and you sucked weakly.

“god, look at you,” he whispered, thumb still in your mouth. “so fucking pretty like this. dumb and dripping with our cum.”

mark pushed in two fingers next, fucking it deeper into the mess between your thighs. “she’s still clenching,” he said. “greedy even now.”

you whimpered into haechan’s hand, your thighs shaking again. the overstimulation was biting at the edges of your spine like static.

“she can take another,” haechan said. “can’t you, sweetheart?”

you didn’t reply fast enough so mark grabbed your jaw and turned your head. “you want us to stop?”

you blinked, dazed.

“…no.”

“then say it.”

“don’t stop,” you whispered. “please…”

haechan was behind you before you could think, spreading your ass with both hands like he was admiring a ruined piece of art. he bent down, spit pooling from his mouth and landing right on your hole before he dragged two fingers through the mess of mark’s cum still leaking out of you.

“look at this,” he muttered, spreading you wider, thumb rubbing slow circles. “she’s dripping with you, mark. you gonna let me fuck her like that?”

mark didn’t answer. he just sat back with his legs spread, cock half-hard and twitching back to life as he watched you squirm. 

“she said not to stop,” mark said finally, voice like gravel and heat. “so don’t.”

haechan lined himself up and slid in slowly until you were choking on your own moan, fingers clawing the sheets again. your body was trembling from the overstimulation but he didn’t care. not even a little. he gripped your hips and started fucking you in hard, rough strokes that made the whole bed creak.

“every sound you make is fucking delicious,” he grunted. “i'm gonna hear you when i jack off for a week straight.”

you cried out, and mark moved toward your head, grabbing your chin and lifting it.

“open your mouth,” he said. 

you did and he spit into it. it hit your tongue, thick and warm, and he didn’t even wait for you to swallow before he slid his cock between your lips.

“don’t you dare stop sucking.”

your throat was sore from taking haechan earlier and your pussy was raw from how hard you’d already been fucked—but none of that mattered. not when they were both moaning. not when mark was muttering how pretty you looked drooling around his cock. not when haechan was rutting into you like he had something to prove.

“she’s not even thinking anymore,” haechan gasped. “just moaning and crying for us—fuck, she’s perfect.”

you didn’t realize your second orgasm was coming until it hit you harder and meaner than the previous one, tearing through your overstimulated nerves until your body convulsed and your throat released a garbled cry around mark’s cock.

mark came first this time, groaning as he pulled out just in time to jerk himself off all over your face until his cum painted your cheeks, your lips, your tongue.

“look at you,” he breathed. “fuck.”

haechan came right after, buried to the hilt inside you, hips stuttering as he flooded you again. his cum mixing with mark’s cum.

you were twitching against mark’s thighs, completely fucked out.

but they didn’t even leave you alone then.

mark pulled you up so you were fully on top of his chest, and ran a thumb over your ruined lips while his other hand slid between your thighs again, fingers stroking the mess they’d made.

“you’re not done,” he whispered.

haechan leaned in from behind, kissing your neck, biting your shoulder. “we’re gonna clean you up from the inside.”

your limbs trembled, your thighs were soaked, your throat ached but your moans still came out soft and needy, like begging had become your first language.

mark’s hand moved between your legs, fingers slipping back inside you with zero mercy. your pussy twitched around him, hypersensitive, every motion making your whole body flinch—but fuck if it didn’t feel good. 

“you’re gonna cum again,” he said, more command than promise. “and again. and again. until we say you’re done.”

haechan moved on top of you, curling around you like a possessive snake.

“you hear that, baby?” he whispered “you wanted both of us… this is what that means.”

his hand snuck between your thighs, meeting mark’s fingers. two sets of fingers working inside you, scissoring, curling, fucking you through the wreckage of your last orgasm and dragging you right into the next.

you were crying now, quiet tears streaming down your cheeks as your body betrayed how good it felt. your hips rocking against their hands, head thrown against mark’s shoulder.

“good fucking girl,” mark breathed, watching your face with that reverent hunger. “look at her, haechan. she’s crying and still begging for more.”

“she’s ours,” haechan said simply, dragging his tongue along your neck, tasting the salt of your tears. “no one else gets her like this.”

and then—as if coordinated—they both moved faster.

your moans cracked into a sob, and you grabbed for mark’s arms as you came again. hard. your body shaking against his, your vision going white around the edges.

“one more,” mark muttered, watching your pussy clench and flutter around his fingers. “you can give us one more, can’t you?”

“she can,” haechan said, now sucking a bruise into your shoulder. “she’s such a good little toy.”

you couldn’t even speak. just gasps, sobs, a whimper of please—though none of you were really sure if it meant please stop or please keep going.

“we’ll stop when you can’t remember your name,” mark whispered, fingers still deep inside you.

he pulled his fingers out of you with one last deep curl, just to watch the way your hips jerked from the sudden loss.

haechan crawled down, hand on your thighs, pressing you into the mattress as he dropped to his stomach in front of your core

"be still," he licked his lips and then his tongue was on you.

licking up everything—all of it—his spit mixing with their cum, slow and messy, like he was trying to taste every second of what they'd done to you. he groaned against your cunt, burying his face between your legs as you sobbed, so overstimulated you couldn’t decide whether you were moaning or crying.

mark brushed your hair out of your face with a hand that was far too gentle for how he’d just destroyed you. he leaned down, kissed your tear-slick cheek, and whispered, “you’re doing so good, baby. letting us use you like this.”

his voice dropped lower, mouth brushing your ear now. “you’re ours. you know that, right? nothing left for anyone else. ”

you nodded. your throat too raw, and lips too bruised to speak.

“she’s clenching again,” haechan called from between your thighs, laughing, breath hot against you. “she’s about to fucking cum on my tongue.”

and fuck—you did.

your whole body jolted violently, and mark had to kiss you to keep you from screaming out. you cried into his mouth, so wet, so wrecked, and still grinding back against haechan’s mouth.

“fuck,” haechan groaned, pulling back just enough to kiss the inside of your thigh. “you taste like a dream.”

“i need to fuck you again” mark said, shifting back behind you. “slow this time. deep. so you remember my cock after tonight.”

haechan didn’t argue.

he just moved, lips dragging up your thighs  as mark pulled your hips back up.

he slid into you again and you whimpered.

"breathe, baby," he whispered. "you're okay. i've got you."

haechan curled up in front of you, kissing your mouth now, slow and messy. his hand found your throat and he squeezed softly.

you looked up at him, saw his gaze flicker over your shoulder to where mark was moving behind you. and fuck if that look wasn’t hungry.

"you two gonna keep pretending this isn’t about more than me?" you whispered, voice raw but daring. “you’ve been dying to touch each other. do it.”

mark froze, cock still buried deep. haechan didn’t blink.

you rolled your hips enough to make mark gasp—and then you turned your head and said it again.

“touch him.”

haechan’s hand slid down slowly, fingers ghosting over your thigh first… then lower… until he reached between your legs and brushed mark’s cock where it was buried inside you.

"fuck," mark grunted, voice cracking slightly.

haechan smirked, leaned over your shoulder and whispered in mark’s ears, “do you like it, lee?”

he curled his fingers around mark’s cock, still moving in and out of you, and started stroking him.  touching you and him in the same stroke. mark groaned into your skin, grip on your hips tightening.

“don’t stop,” mark gasped, voice lower than you'd ever heard it. “fuck—don’t stop.”

you moaned too, completely overwhelmed now watching the two of them break for each other.

"who knew you were this needy?" haechan taunted.

"shut up" mark groaned, hips faltering.

haechan leaned forward again, brushing his lips against mark’s jaw.

“shut me up,” he said, soft and dangerous.

mark hesitated for a second and then their mouths crashed together.

it was brutal and desperate. they kissed over your back like they were fighting for dominance, like they were starving for it.

mark kept fucking into you as they kissed, pace getting rougher now, hips snapping with every gasp. haechan kept stroking you both, his fingers moving between your clit and mark’s cock, never giving either of you a break.

haechan broke the kiss first, panting, lips swollen. “she’s gonna come again,” he muttered, fingers rubbing harder. “fuck, she’s squeezing you so tight.”

“i’m close, too” mark groaned “i’m gonna—”

you came first, clenching around both haechan’s hand and mark’s cock. your whole body spasming as the orgasm slammed through you.

mark came soon after with a gasp, hips stuttering as he spilled inside you again. he only pulled out 

haechan didn’t stop touching you. didn’t stop kissing mark. until he’d wrung every drop out of both of you.

it was quiet for a moment.

both boys still half-tangled with you, one on either side. haechan’s mouth trailed down your body, licking over bruises he’d left earlier, until he settled between your thighs again. he kissed your inner thigh, then the other, lips dragging against sensitive skin, breathing in the scent of your ruined cunt like it was perfume.

“she’s still fucking soaked,” he muttered. “how are you still this wet?”

“because she knows what’s coming,” mark said, taking your hand and guiding it to his mouth. he kissed your fingers. then your wrist. then up your arm, slow and careful.

then he sat up and lifted your upper body into his lap, turning you around and cradling you against his chest as haechan started licking long, slow strokes up your pussy again.

your legs trembled, your hands dug into mark’s thighs. you weren’t just being eaten out, you were being devoured.

“you’re gonna take us both this time,” mark grunted into your ear. “not one at a time. both.”

haechan looked up, eyes gleaming.

“ever been filled in both holes, baby?”

your breath hitched. you couldn’t speak but your body said yes.

mark shifted behind you again, this time lining himself up lower. haechan moved between your legs, stroking himself slow, teasing the head of his cock through your slick folds.

“you ready?” haechan asked, breath hot against your mouth.

you nodded.

and then they were both pushing in at the same time.

one in your pussy, one in your ass.

and fuck—you lost your mind.

your mouth dropped open in a scream you didn’t even hear. you were full in the truest, filthiest sense of the word.

they groaned in unison, both of them stilling once they were fully buried inside you.

“holy fuck,” mark gasped. “she’s so tight like this—”

“don’t move yet,” haechan hissed, eyes fluttering shut. “fuck. she’s milking us.”

but you did move. you rolled your hips, whimpering, desperate for more friction. and then they started thrusting.

together.

deep, slow, alternating, syncing like they were choreographing the destruction of your sanity.

your body jolted between them with every stroke. you were moaning, begging, babbling things you couldn’t understand. their hands were all over you—mark’s on your breasts, haechan’s on your throat, their mouths kissing every inch of you they could reach.

“this is what you wanted, isn’t it?” mark growled. “us… fucking you together.”

“she was made to take us like this.” haechan breathed, watching your eyes roll back. 

you didn’t just come this time. you broke. sobbing and clenching down on both of them as your orgasm hit like a bus. they didn’t even stop, they fucked you through it, fucked you through the twitching and the tears and the oversensitive spasms until you were just a mess of yesyesyes and pleasepleaseplease.

they came together. mark first, biting your shoulder, thrusts deep and hard. then haechan, with a strangled moan, spilling inside you with one final snap of his hips.

you didn’t know how long you were out—could’ve been minutes, could’ve been hours. the world felt muted. like your body had been peeled open and left raw in the best way. your limbs wouldn’t move right. your skin was still tingling. your chest rising slowly like every breath was relearned.

mark was the first to move. he didn’t speak, just rolled you onto your side gently, cradling your body lgently. he reached for the sheets, wiped between your thighs with careful strokes, even as your legs twitched and your whole body flinched at the contact.

“you alive?” mark asked softly.

you hummed. barely.

“good,” haechan said. “because imagine explaining this to the paramedics.” he kissed your shoulder, tongue dragging over the sweat there.

you laughed—more like a broken giggle—and they both chuckled too.

mark leaned in, brushed your hair back from your face. “you okay?”

you nodded, and when you whispered “yeah,” he kissed your temple.

“you need water, or—?”

“i need to feel you again,” you said.

he blinked, then smiled fondly.

haechan slid a hand up your stomach, resting between your breasts. “she’s addicted,” he whispered, and you could feel the grin in his voice. “she’s not even cleaned up and she’s already asking for more.”

you turned your head slightly. “so stop teasing me and touch me.”

mark’s fingers were already trailing back down your side. “not to fuck you again,” he said, “not yet.”

he looked at you softly, but serious. “we’re gonna clean you up.”

haechan slipped out of bed and disappeared for a second, then came back with a warm cloth. mark took it, and the two of them cleaned your body. wiping gently between your legs, kissing the insides of your knees. haechans tongue licked along your hip just because he wanted to.

“look at this mess,” he murmured, dragging the cloth through the mixture of their cum and yours. “we fucked you so good. you’re still dripping.”

you whimpered.

mark kissed your thigh. “we’ll fill you up again,” he promised. “after you rest. after we take care of you.”

“and when you wake up,” haechan added, crawling up beside you, “you’re getting marked again, so no one even thinks about touching you.”

┈─★

the first thing you felt the next morning was heat. not the kind that fades when the blankets shift. no, this was body heat. the weight of someone’s thigh tangled with yours. the press of a chest at your back. the warm exhale of breath across your neck.

your eyes blinked open slowly.

and both of them were still in your bed.

mark was behind you, arm slung over your waist, breath warm against your shoulder. haechan was in the front, legs tangled with yours and one hand resting against the underside of your breast like he’d fallen asleep mid-grope.

mark stirred first, pressing a slow kiss to the back of your shoulder. “morning,” he mumbled, voice deep and sleep-rough.

you hummed. “you stayed.”

“of course,” he said like it was obvious.

haechan groaned, stretching. his hand slid higher and squeezed your tit without even opening his eyes. “if i’d left, i would’ve had to jerk off in the dorm thinking about this,” he muttered. “no thanks.”

you laughed softly, body curling between them. “are you always this charming in the morning?”

mark chuckled. “only when we wake up next to a gorgeous girl.”

“mm,” haechan hummed, finally opening his eyes. “speaking of…”

he pushed the blanket back and looked you over like he was unwrapping a gift.

“what?” you asked, even though you knew exactly what.

mark leaned up on one elbow, gaze sweeping from your face to the marks on your neck, down to the faint bruises on your hips. his hand brushed them lightly, almost in awe.

“we did a number on you,” he murmured.

“yeah,” you said, voice light. “you gonna apologize?”

they both smirked.

“no,” haechan said, already moving to kiss down your chest. “we’re gonna do it again.”

[n0hyuck]

RULE NUMBER 1: DON’T FALL IN LOVE

PAIRING: jeno × fem!reader

GENRE/CW: smut, fake dating, fluff, slight angst, unprotected sex, drunk sex, blowjob, cunnilingus, penetration, usage of nicknames, themes of jealousy, mentions of jaemin and other dreamies, mentions of karina and yunjin, lmk if i missed anything!

WORD COUNT: 16.2k words

SYNOPSIS: your ex getting a girlfriend after just two weeks of breakup was enough to infuriate you to the point where you had to step up and make him regret breaking your heart. solution? fake date his best friend and make him jealous!

WARNING: 18+ content, minors dni

A/N: hihi, my loves <3 i couldn’t get lee jeno out of my head and here we are now :3 i hope you guys enjoy it! i wanna thank my loves @ddeonuism and @celeste-hoon for helping me with the ideas and dialogues <3 all likes, comments, reblogs are highly appreciated! it keeps me motivated! iloveyou all and happy reading <33

Drink and forget. 

That was your plan for the night, and what’s a better way to achieve it than attending a party with your friends? 

“Woah! Girl, slow down,” Yunjin scolded you, taking the shot glass out of your hand, “it’s been half an hour, Y/n. If you take another shot then you’re going back to the dorm.”

You groaned, “you know why I’m doing this Yun. I should’ve listened to you and Rina.”

Hyuck whined, “what’s the point anymore? You didn’t listen to them and still fell for him instead of me which resulted in him breaking your heart.” 

That earned him a smack on his head by Ningning, who now turned to you with a smile to lighten up your mood, “it’s been two weeks already, babe! Let’s forget about him and dance—” she said, her last word trailed off as she stared at the party entrance, the same time the music got loud. 

“I can’t believe he left so easily,” you whispered to yourself, gulping down your sentiments before paying attention to where your friends were staring, turning around to look at the entrance gate. 

There he was, the reason why you had been cooped up in your room, crying your heart out. The reason why you were drinking to numb your feelings, yet it all went downhill the second your eyes fell on him. 

Na Jaemin. 

His walk was confident, his sculpted face looked more charming than ever as he sported his ever so gradient smile looking indifferent to what had happened between you both. 

Topping it all, he had a girl clinging on to his arm, giggling as she pulled his arm to be pressed between her tits. She was clad in a mini dress which barely hid her ass and your friends glanced back at you with a nervous expression on their faces. 

Your face, however, remained stoic as you exhibited no sign of emotions despite feeling the anger burning up inside you, your fist clenching as you saw them walk towards your group. 

You couldn’t believe how Jaemin was the same guy who used to give you shy smiles whenever your groups used to sit together as he was a close friend of Mark and Hyuck. 

Your friends had warned you, they did, but you were so blinded by his innocent face and pure smile which held secret promises of sincerity and a hope of something more. You took your time to notice that he cared for you, even waiting outside your classes with a bouquet at times. 

He had you swooning, ignoring the warnings and signs you should have seen coming. His sweet talk lured you right into his trap, and you found yourself saying yes to him in a heartbeat, marking the onset of your honeymoon phase. It was dreamy, to the point even your friends were convinced he had changed his ways and finally decided to settle down. 

Yet, deep inside you could feel your gut telling you that it won’t last, and he proved it just right when he forgot your one month anniversary, when he forgot the flavour of your favourite ice cream, when he didn’t bother calling you or taking you out on dates. 

When he admitted that he was bored and wanted out. 

It lasted for two months before he decided to break up, leaving you standing by yourself in your dorm, tears cascading down your face before your roommates heard a broken cry leave your mouth. Yunjin and Karina never left your side after that. 

Others tried to talk some sense into Jaemin but it was as useful as a chocolate teapot. 

The hope of him regretting his decision went downhill when you saw him with this new girl, barely two weeks after your break up, the corner of his lips turned up into his usual smirk as he stood in front of you all, getting no smile or greetings yet he didn’t mind. 

It was a rare sight to see his best friend frowning, nonetheless a frown of disappointment settled on Jeno’s lips. 

Despite the loud music and the array of sweaty bodies dancing all over the room, you could feel the deafening silence in the circle of your group until a small whine came out of Jaemin’s new girl toy, who pouted and whispered something in his ear, giving you the opportunity to look at Yunjin, who looked equally disgusted at the exchange. 

The girl must have asked him to introduce her because he nodded with his usual smile, turning around to face everyone as he spoke up, “hey guys! Meet my new girlfriend.” He motioned at her to speak up. 

Her fake giggle made you want to throw up, and you noticed how you weren’t the only one who felt this way as Hyuck excused himself from the conversation, rolling his eyes, which made you smile. 

That didn’t stop her, “hi guys!” She exclaimed, dragging out the hi, “I’m Linda.”

A series of snorts and coughed up laughs emerged as she proceeded to introduce herself, which included you who tried your best not to laugh at her oblivious state, completely disregarding the fact that she was not welcomed here. 

No matter how heartbroken you were, feeling like a fool as Jaemin’s eyes took your outfit in wasn’t something you’d allow to happen. You didn’t bother excusing yourself as you left the circle, Yunjin following you in a beat as you just missed the whine Linda let out at your disrespectful actions. 

“The fucking audacity?” Yunjin was furious, your inner turmoil matching her expression, “I can’t believe he’s got the nerve to bring that bimbo here.”

You wasted no time in gulping down your fourth shot, no one bothered to stop you this time, knowing well you needed it as you tried to keep your tears at bay, it was too late to say you regretted saying yes to the player. 

Your body felt hot as your mind clouded into a hazier state, the confidence overpowered your painful state, your legs taking you to your friends who knew you were drunk beyond your capacity as you danced with them, rolling your body and letting yourself free. 

Yet the one thing that never left your mind was revenge. 

You wanted revenge. 

The booming voice of your alarm clock was successful in contributing to your raging headache as you opened your eyes with a deep groan, feeling disoriented and your hangover building up. 

“Fuck—” you muttered, shutting up your alarm. 

You were surprised to notice the medicines and a bottle of water that was kept on your nightstand, and you didn’t waste a second before gulping it down to help your headache as well as your parched throat. 

Being grateful that it was a Sunday, you slumped back down, trying to recall the night but the only memory that stayed in your head was the one of Linda squishing Jaemin’s arm on her boobs. Your jaw clenched at how easily he moved on. 

Just then, Karina entered the room with a small smile. She was the only one who looked normal as she wasn’t at the party yesterday. 

“Oh! I was just coming to wake you up. We’re all going out for brunch since no one is in their right mind to cook,” she informed you with an amused look, noticing how you were still wearing your dress from last night.  

A shower was exactly what you needed at the given point as you tried your best to get ready in fifteen minutes, your mind filled with ideas to take revenge, no matter how childish it sounded. But how? Well, searching the net didn’t help much. You weren’t going to post a bad picture of him in the name of revenge.  

It also wouldn’t work because it was impossible for him to have a bad picture. 

You sighed, linking your arms with Yunjin and Karina as you got out of the car which the latter drove as you walked inside your usual diner to see everyone sitting together after aligning the tables. 

Hyuck pulled you to sit with him, he barely had his eyes open as Mark went on telling everyone how Hyuck got pissed drunk last night and made out with his knee while crying. 

The scene was easy to imagine which made you all burst into laughter at the poor boy who could only whine, “your knee tastes like mustard!” 

The laughter died down when you felt a repeat of yesterday happening yet again. It was a friends only brunch, but apparently, Jaemin’s Linda didn’t get the memo. 

You could see his best friend trailing behind him yet again and you wondered how Jeno handled Jaemin despite his actions which now made everyone uncomfortable to some extent. 

“Should I punch that asshole?” Hyuck asked, whispering in your ear and you sighed for the tenth time today, shaking your head as you completely ignored the two people and focused on eating and chatting with the ones who made you feel better, however, you could feel Jaemin’s eyes staring at you. 

You just wanted to go back, already tired of the couple who couldn’t keep their public display of affection at bay. Now you were sure it wasn’t just the hangover that made you wanna puke. 

“I think I just lost my appetite,” you commented, causing the guy in front of you to snigger. 

You looked up for the first time to see Jeno sitting opposite to you, sending you a smile once he saw you looking his way, which you returned easily. 

He usually kept to himself and he wasn’t the talkative one in the group. You had only talked to him while greeting him whenever your groups met, and once when Jaemin got drunk beyond control at a party and so you had to call Jeno to pick him up. Your interactions were limited to him because of one person. 

Your smile dropped the second you heard that annoying giggle again, Jeno only looked your way with a small frown after as you averted your gaze back to your lap, gulping down your anger. 

The sound of a message notification from your phone grabbed your attention, and you opened it to find your group chat being active. 

Uni haters 🤬👊🏼 (minus Jaemin)

mOrk: uhh yo guys this is awkward 😬

hyuckie: can’t believe i lost my title of annoying king to jaemin’s gf??? 🤬

ningx2: she’s not even a guy

yunjinnie: but she’s annoying

ningx2: can’t argue w that 🤪

rinaa: let’s just eat and leave as soon as we can, the air is suffocating me 🤕

you: too late i can’t eat anymore 🤡

injun: im leaving i can’t w this bullshit, she didn’t even wear her wig properly 

mOrk: holy shit? she’s got a wig on?!?! 😨

You laughed as you noticed Renjun calling the waiter for the bill, which you all split as soon as you can and made your way out of the suffocating place, leaving the two in there as Jeno too decided to leave early. 

The drive back home was barely five minutes long, which soothed your nerves as you sang along to old songs Yunjin played on the speakers. 

They could notice how you looked exhausted, but it was more than that, they knew you had something in your mind and it was related to none other than your ex. 

“Okay, what’s going on?” Yunjin asked once you entered your shared dorm room. 

“What do you mean? I’m perfectly fine!” You tried laughing but it came out fake, causing Karina to raise her brows. 

“Spill. Right now,” she ordered, making you sit in between them as you clicked your tongue in annoyance, which wasn’t directed to them. 

“Fine. I want revenge,” you confessed, “he looks so happy and unbothered as if nothing happened? How can he say hi to me as if it’s the most casual thing in this world after he broke up with me saying he got bored? Ugh I hate his guts!” You ranted. 

“So, do you have any plans for that?” Yunjin asked. 

“Not really,” you muttered, “safari really recommended me to flirt with other guys in front of him,” you laughed, picking at the pillow cover of your couch. 

Yunjin refrained herself from snorting, “would he be jealous of a random guy though?” 

Karina laughed along, “yeah it’s not like you can date his best friend to make him jealous?” 

Your eyes widened, your head turning slowly as your lips curled into a devilish grin, immediately causing your friends to exchange nervous glances and speak up. 

“Don’t fucking tell me you’re considering this,” Karina blinked, incredulous. 

“Listen—” you started, only to be cut off midway. 

“No way,” a breathy laugh left Yunjin as she tried to contain her words and make you understand without any cussing. 

“It’s not a bad idea, okay?” You tried to convince her. 

“So what? Are you gonna seduce Jeno?” She asked. 

You laughed which sounded more like a pfft, “of course not, silly! We’ll fake date each other!” You said, face shining as if you had presented the greatest idea known to mankind. 

“Be so for real right now,” Karina deadpanned. 

“Lord, Y/n think straight. This is real life, you’re not in a cheesy rom-com movie or a book,” Yunjin provided her input. 

“I know! But I just have to make him jealous for what? A month before he gets bored of that Linda girlie, and maybe Jeno would agree to it too!” You nodded at the possibilities. 

“I can’t believe this is happening.” Yunjin rubbed her eyes, “me either,” Karina said as they both looked at you with an expression you couldn’t decipher. 

Your smile only got wider, “this is the best way to make it work!” You announced before looking at Karina sheepishly, “please send me Jeno’s number Rina,” you said in a sweet voice, knowing she was the social butterfly of the university before you waved a goodbye at them, walking into your room, formulating a plan alongside. 

“This is gonna be a disaster, right?” Karina asked Yunjin, sighing. 

“Oh definitely, it’ll be a show.”

You walked in your room, contemplating if it would be alright to discuss this on text or if you should meet up with him, the latter option was more plausible yet scary because what if Jeno laughed at you? What if he didn’t agree to work with you for the sake of his friendship. 

With such a stupefied idea, the possibilities were endless. Besides, you weren’t gonna ask for a lot, just a little hand holding, maybe hugging but nothing beyond that. You have to play pretend and smile a lot around each other. That would sell your drama and that would make Jaemin jealous and realize that he lost a gem. 

You waited and thought about it for a few days before finally giving in. 

You took a deep breath, giving yourself a last nod of encouragement before you picked up your phone, saving the number Karina had forwarded you and clicking on his profile before sending a text. 

To: Jeno🐾

You: heyy jeno! 🥰 it’s Y/n, can we meet up? 

You wondered if that emoji was too much, but you did not get enough time to ponder upon it as Jeno texted you back in a minute. 

Jeno🐾:  Hey, Y/n :) sure, is everything okay?

You: yess! i just need to talk to you about something :3

Jeno🐾: How about Starbucks at 5? 

You: perfect, i’ll be there ^^

Jeno🐾: See you <3

Your mouth widened at the heart at the end of the text, before you brushed it off, thinking that he sent it by mistake. You kept your phone on the nightstand, standing in front of your closet to select an outfit for your meeting. 

The plan was made, you just had to discuss it with Jeno but you had never talked to him before, maybe that is why your heartbeat rose up. He was a good looking guy, there’s no denying that and you’ve heard that he was one of the smart ones too. 

You bit your lip as you straightened out your top, rethinking your life decisions. There was no backing out now. You looked in the mirror again, satisfied with your outfit and makeup. You knew you looked stunning as you grabbed your phone and bag before driving Karina’s car to your desired destination. 

The place was almost empty except for a few people who sat and worked on their laptops. It was easy to spot Jeno, his dark hair shone under the dim lights of the cafe, he pushed his specs up for it to rest on his perfectly pointy nose, his lips parted ever so slightly as he focused on reading a book which you had never heard the name of. 

His aura looked calming, which boosted your confidence as you made your way towards the table he was sitting at. It was near the window, at the end of the cafe, which gave you enough privacy. Somehow the seating choice felt very Jeno to you. 

Clearing your throat, you mustered up your courage, smiling slightly. “Hey, Jeno!” You spoke, looking him in the eye. 

That was enough to capture his attention, he looked up at you with a smile that reached his eyes. 

He looked adorable. 

“Y/n! Hey, come sit please,” he said, gesturing at the seat on the opposite side of him. 

His eyes were soft as they looked at you sitting down, noticing a strand of hair which you tucked behind your ear, finally looking up at him, trying to find the right words to start the conversation. 

“Isn’t it weird how we’ve never talked before?” You chuckled, causing him to nod with a small laugh. 

“That’s true. How can I help you today?” He asked, keeping the book aside, carefully placing a bookmark before doing so. 

You kept your confident smile on, “I needed your help with this hypothesis I have,” you nodded as you explained it to him, and he was sure that the meet up was for academic purposes now, “so I need to take a little survey. Can you answer some questions for me?” You asked.

He nodded as you took out a notepad and pen from the bag you were carrying. 

“Sure, I’d be glad to help,” he smiled, eyes turning into soft crescents, which you stopped to stare for a second too long before realizing that he was waiting for your questions. 

You snapped out of your daze as you started scribbling on your notepad, “your full name?” 

“Don’t you know it?” He asked, confused. 

“Shh just answer, it’s the official protocol.” You huffed. 

“Lee Jeno.”

“Gender?” 

“Seriously—” 

“Just say it!” 

“Okay, fine. Male.”

“What’s your age?”

“I’m 23.”

“Introvert, extrovert or ambivert?”

“Introverted.”

“Marital status?”

“What?”

“Single? Okay. So on a scale of one to ten, how willing are you to help me get back at your best friend by being my fake boyfriend?” You asked, your smile never faltering. 

Jeno blinked once, then twice. “You lost me on that one,” he spoke up. 

His eyes displayed a mixture of shock and amusement, and maybe it was your figment of imagination that you saw him snigger but you weren’t the one to give up. 

Your lips jutted out in a pout, eyes shiny as you looked up at him, “c’mon! You won't let a girl beg for a little help, right? Especially when she was hurt so very deeply by the said ex, right?” 

Jeno looked at you, your pout only deepening in the hopes of him accepting your idea. He only leaned on his arm, coming closer with an enthralled smile. 

“So what you’re suggesting here is that I fake date you to get back at my best friend for hurting you?” He confirmed and you nodded enthusiastically, “how’s it going to work?”

“Easy! Jaemin isn’t the one who gets affected by a lot of things but if I date his best friend, that’s you, then he would get jealous and would regret breaking up with me,” you explained, “then I won’t take him back,” you announced, triumphant. 

Jeno nodded, as if contemplating whether the offer was worth it, “what do I get out of it?” He asks. 

“A fake and pretty girlfriend of course,” you smiled, “and a chance to teach your best friend some manners,” you shrugged as if it was a win-win situation. 

Jeno’s expression didn’t give out what he was thinking and you were patiently looking at him for some sort of answer, hopefully a positive one. 

“Do I have time to think?” He asks. 

“I would give you some but then I’m an anxious being,” you stated which elicited a laugh out of him as he never expected that coming out of you. 

But he had seen it all, the way Jaemin behaved with you. He forgot all important dates, gave priority to his parties and the friend group which was potentially harmful for him, not to mention that his reason for breaking up was worse than the worst excuse, saying he got bored, only to find a girl two weeks later. Jeno truly hated Linda as she accidentally broke his favourite vase while he made out with Jaemin in their shared apartment. 

“Fine. How are we going to go about this?” Jeno sighed, giving in finally as he saw your face practically lighting up with excitement. 

“Wait! Does this mean you’re in?” You asked just to be sure. 

“I don’t think I have any other option,” he teases but you don’t mind, you were simply enjoying the feel of victory already, “so, now what?” He asks, finally realizing what he had gotten himself into. 

Fake dating. 

“Now, we’re going to set some ground rules, which of course, we’ll write down and sign as a contract,” you say, getting a page out of your notepad. 

“Like that one movie by Jenny Han?” He raised his brows. 

You stopped to think for a second, “yeah but it’s not like we’ll fall in love or something,” you shrugged with a laugh and he nodded. 

Y/n and Jeno’s rules of fake dating! <3

Don’t fall in love 

Hand holding is okay

Drive to the uni together 

Nicknames are a must!

Kissing is not allowed!!

Don’t tell anyone except for Yunjin and Karina 

Break up once the goal is reached. 

Goal: make Jaemin regret breaking up!! (Additional: get rid of Linda)

Signatures

You passed the sheet to Jeno, “anything you’d like to change?” You asked as he read it all, and you noticed his brows slightly scrunching as he did so, exactly how they were scrunched when he was reading his book earlier. 

“I’m assuming you told your friends already,” he pointed out rule number six, to which you nodded sheepishly. 

“No kissing?” He asked, “you know no one’s gonna buy it if we don’t kiss, right? But of course, if you’re not comfortable then it’s fine.”

You bit your lower lip, wondering if you should consider it since he was right. Kissing is the easiest way to show affection, “I think you’re right, we’ll do it only when it’s required,” you said, and he nodded. 

You wondered how he was so calm with all of this, and you liked that he was asking questions about it all. 

“What’s with the nicknames?” He read rule number four. 

“Jaemin is big on nicknames, I bet he calls you some too. He used to call me princess,” you sighed, remembering how it used to be. It hurt but the current hatred overtook that feeling. 

“Alright, sweetheart,” he whispered. 

Your eyes widened at his deep tone, but he only smiled, “just practising,” he said and you nodded, gulping down. 

“Okay, so is the list done?” You inquired. 

“Yeah, I just have to add one thing,” he said, scribbling down another rule while you asked him random questions. 

“Have you ever dated before?” 

He shook his head, “you’re my first,” he winked, and you wondered how he was so good at flirting. 

“So—” you were going to ask another question but it seems like he knew what it was. 

“I know I’m silent but it doesn’t mean I’m inexperienced,” he stated, and you were amused as it was the first time he saw him being this way, “besides, this deal of ours would benefit me by driving the girls away.”

“Right,” you snickered, looking at what he had written, “why PDA?” you asked. 

“Because that’s the key to irritate Jaemin, especially with Linda around who sees no other seat but Jaem’s lap,” he explained as your face scrunched at the image. 

“You really are smart,” you muttered, signing the contract before handing it to him, who was quick to sign it too before you extended your hand. 

His big hand encased yours in a handshake and you couldn’t help, but notice how his fingers were slender, veins visible on his hands as his grip was firm on your hand. 

You had sealed the deal. 

Y/n and Jeno’s rules of fake dating! <3

Don’t fall in love 

Hand holding is okay

Drive to the uni together 

Nicknames are a must!

Kissing is not allowed!!

Don’t tell anyone except for Yunjin and Karina 

Break up once the goal is reached. 

PDA whenever the target is around!

Goal: make Jaemin regret breaking up!! (Additional: get rid of Linda)

Y/n       Jeno 

Signatures

“Listen, I know plans don’t work at times, there’s no reason to be sad over it—wait why are you smiling? There’s no way—” Yunjin asked as soon as you entered your dorm after your meeting with Jeno. 

“He agreed,” you squealed. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me. Jeno? The scholar guy who’s silent for the majority of the time, the guy who’s never had a girlfriend before, he agreed to fake date you?” Karina’s mouth was hung open and you only nodded excitedly. 

They both looked at each other before nodding, “now, you need a day out. We’re talking waxing, getting your hair done, and preferably your nails too since you’ve had that colour for too long and new clothes—” they made a list as they successfully dragged you out for all of it the next day, saying it’s a little something they’d want to contribute to your fake dating strategy. 

You didn’t mind a bit of it, being pampered was something you loved and it was long due as you had devoted all your time to crying after your breakup. 

It was when Monday rolled by when it finally settled in. You were going to pretend to date Lee Jeno, in front of everyone. Your friends gave you last minute pep talks and you were more than glad that they had decided to help you dress up too. Just then your phone rang with a notification. 

Jeno🐾: Morning, sunshine <3 Ready to sell our show? 

You: good morning!! i'm more than ready! are you tho? 👀

Jeno🐾: I’m already waiting for you outside, love ;)

You almost choked on the water you were drinking as you remembered the rules. You had to go to the university with him, “bye guys! He’s here,” you said to your roommates, getting up and grabbing your bag as you made your way out in a hurry. 

Jeno was standing by his car as he lived in the apartments and not the dorms, which was ten minutes away from your university campus. As for your dorms, they were a solid five minutes walk from your room. 

He looked up from your phone as he heard you walking closer to him, “hey,” he smiled. 

“So punctual, you’re right on time,” you said, “seems like you’re excited.”

He chuckled, opening the passenger seat door for you, “I can’t say I’m not excited to see other’s reactions,” he admitted as you sat down inside, thanking him softly. 

Jaemin had never once opened the door for you. 

He got in the car, focusing on the road, “what’s the goal for today, princess?” He asked in his deep tone. 

You blamed your overly sensitive skin for the tingling you felt due to his voice, also sitting to notice how his face looked like a sculpture.  

“Soft launching our relationship,” you answered, clicking his picture. 

“In the cafeteria, during lunch then?” 

“Exactly! You just have to sit next to me and smile, that’ll be enough for Hyuck to suspect something,” you explained the basic plan just in time as you reached the university parking lot. 

“Why? Do I never smile?” He asked, getting his seatbelt off. 

“You do, but only to our group. Others get a neutral expression only,” you pointed out as if you had analysed him fully. 

“Wait,” he stopped you from opening the car door, getting out and opening it for you with a tiny smile. 

Well that worked since people were nosy enough to notice a girl coming out of Jeno’s car, which is a scene that never occurs. 

He politely offered you his hand as he helped you stand up. His hand was warm juxtaposing your cold ones, as he pulled you towards him, your shoulder pressed against his chest, which you could feel was chiselled, he definitely had pecks. 

“Smile, princess,” he whispered, and you overcame your state of hyper focus on him before putting on your best smile. 

“What are we doing?” You asked, your smile never faltering. 

Jeno was somehow really good at looking at you with fondness in his eyes, he’d be a nice theatre guy if he takes up acting. 

“Dropping my girlfriend to her class, of course,” he said smoothly, and you started walking, hand in hand. 

“You’re pretty good at this. Are you sure it’s your first time?” You teased, noticing others staring at your hands. 

“Why? Do you think I’m a good boyfriend?” He asked back and you were truly amazed to see him retorting to your questions, given that you had barely seen him talk before. 

He felt your hand slipping and quickly intertwined your fingers. The gesture made sure to send a shiver down your spine. 

Jaemin never held your hand while walking. 

“We’re just getting started, we’ll see how it goes,” you suggested, causing him to nod and continue the conversation you had left off. 

“So what you were saying back in the car is that people perceive me as someone who’s mean?” He tilted his head in question. 

“Of course not! They perceive you as someone who’s unapproachable.” You say seriously, you both stopped walking as you had reached the class. 

He blinked at you once. You blinked back. 

And you both burst out into soft laughter before he ruffled your hair slightly, bending down to your level, “study well, princess.” He winked, walking away to attend his own lecture. 

You tried your best to focus on the lecture as you jotted down the notes alongside, however the feeling of thrill kept your leg bouncing the entire time, your mind working out possible scenarios with everyone’s reactions. 

Soon, the classes were over and it was the time for your lunch break, which also meant that it was the time for you and Jeno to act in front of everyone else. 

“We’ll cheer for you,” Karina said and you could only laugh at her expression. She still couldn’t believe that you were going through with this. 

From the entrance of the big cafeteria, you could easily spot the table where everyone had already assembled. 

“Ready?” A deep voice whispered in your ear, successfully causing you to jump back. 

But Jeno was quick to grab your waist and pull you closer before you could trip, his eyes equally widened as yours, “god! You scared me,” you said, breathing in deeply to calm your heart. 

You could feel his scent infiltrating your senses, it was a perfect blend of woody and citrus, which was also paired with slight musk and mandarin. He smelled really good. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to,” he said, letting go so you could stand straight. 

His eyes were full of worry, mouth slightly agape and you smiled to let him know you were okay. “Now, smile and talk,” you said as you both walked into the cafeteria. 

“Do I really never smile?” He asked you, “because people are staring.”

“I told you already! You smile only with our friends and we have never really talked before, at least in front of others,” you laughed. 

The whole group went silent as the two of you approached. Haechan was the first one to raise his eyebrows as you sat down with him, but Jeno didn’t sit next to Jaemin. Instead, he sat down next to you. 

Linda, as usual, was sitting on his lap, but that didn’t stop Jaemin from staring at you and Jeno. 

“Something is fishy,” Hyuck pointed out. 

“What is?” You asked, feigning innocence. 

Jeno was silent when he wrapped his strong arm around your waist, pulling you slightly closer to him. You could feel your stomach tingling, and he simply smiled your way. 

“Firstly, I saw you getting out of Jeno’s car in the morning,” Hyuck noted, “secondly, he was holding your hand and he walked you to the class. Thirdly, he’s been smiling nonstop.”

“Dude, no way!” Mark simply laughed, thinking it’s another one of Hyuck’s joke. 

Ningning looked lost while Renjun seemed to be focusing on your expression, “I don’t think it’s one of his jokes this time,” he said. 

“It’s really not!” Hyuck whined, glad that Renjun was agreeing. 

“Does this mean—” Mark’s eyes widened. 

“—that they’re dating,” Yunjin said, acting her best as she widened her eyes, almost standing up at the confession. 

A series of gasps left their mouths, “what?” They collectively exclaimed. 

You tried your best to hold in your laugh as Jeno turned to look at you, and from the side of your eyes, you could notice Jaemin staring at you deeply with his jaw clenched. 

“They are! Look! He’s got his arm around her waist,” Hyuck exclaimed in an overdramatic way. 

“Guys—” you tried to say but Jeno stopped you. 

“It’s fine, princess. They know now,” he smiled, pulling you even closer in a side hug. 

That caused Ningning, Mark and Haechan to scream while Linda squealed, jumping on Jaem’s lap. 

Jeno caressed the corner of your lip adoringly, “no need to hide it from our friends, baby,” he said before looking up, “Hyuck is right, we are dating.”

“What the fuck?”

“Since when?”

“Excuse me?”

“Did you fuck?”

All eyes turned to Ningning in disbelief as she asked the question, “what? I’m curious,” she shrugged, everyone looking at Jaemin subtly to observe his reaction. 

You leaned into Jeno’s chest, making yourself comfortable as you saw everyone chatting excitedly, your eyes settling on your ex for just a moment to see his furrowed brows and hardened eyes, a vein popping out from his neck. 

Day one, successful. 

“So you’re dating now, huh?” Jaemin’s voice asked Jeno as he entered their shared apartment. 

Jaemin was sitting on the couch, face devoid of expressions as he asked the question. 

Jeno chuckled softly, gripping his bag tighter as he walked into the room, standing in front of Jaemin, “yeah. Who would’ve seen that coming?”

That caused the other boy to chuckle along, but it sounded strained, almost ending with a scoff, “I certainly didn’t see it coming.”

“You don’t sound happy for me,” Jeno said, his tone teasing. 

Jaemin was trying hard to keep his smile up, “What makes you think so?”

“Your smile. It’s strained,” Jeno pointed out, grabbing the bottle of beer in front of Jaemin and taking a sip out of it. 

Jaemin clicked his tongue, looking Jeno dead in the eye, “how can you date her? What happened to the bro code?” 

Jeno remained calm, “why? Weren’t you the one who was done with her?”

“She’s my fucking ex, Jeno,” he snapped. 

“That’s right, she’s your ex. She’s not yours anymore, she’s my girl.” Jeno smiled, keeping the beer back on the table before walking away. 

“Oh! And, try to be happy for us now, I don’t want my princess to be sad because of us, yeah?” Jeno gave him his infamous eye smile before returning to his room.

The plan was working. 

You didn’t have morning classes the next day, which is why you had to walk to the main campus instead of getting a ride with your fake boyfriend. Yet you left your dorm an hour before your lecture to meet up with Jeno as he had something to tell you. 

The one thing you liked about your University was its beauty, the gardens and fresh flowers only heightened up your spirits as you tried to find Jeno in the garden of the STEM faculty, which was mostly empty. 

You spotted Jeno waiting for you by a tree. He was reading the same book he had in the cafe the other day, you had also noticed how frequently he used to go to libraries during your relationship with Jaemin. He loved to read. 

“Hey,” you said, standing in front of him with a smile. 

“Hey there, princess,” he replied, making you tilt your head. 

“Why are you calling me that? We’re alone right now,” you laughed. 

“For practice, of course,” he said in a beat before he handed you a cup of coffee, the exact one which you get from your favourite cafe nearby. 

“How’d you know?” You blink, surprised at his sweet gesture, also thanking him for it. 

He shrugged, “I’m known to be attentive,” he said. 

Jaemin never knew your favourite drink. 

“Jaemin talked to me yesterday,” he told you as you took a sip of your coffee. 

“Yeah?” You asked, stepping closer to hear what he had to say. 

“Yeah, he truly hates this setting. He asked me how I could date you.”

“Oh my god, he didn’t even hesitate? What did you say back then?” You asked. 

“Hold on—” he said, grabbing your waist and turning you around, his hand resting on the back of your head as he pushed you against the tree. 

“What’s wrong?” You asked, eyes widening as he leaned closer, making your heart beat out of your chest as you looked into his honey brown eyes which were surrounded by little specks of gold. 

“Jaemin,” he breathed out, “he’s here and he’s looking our way.”  

To Jaemin, it might look as if Jeno and you are kissing but his lips are still inches away from yours, his scent pleasing your olfactory receptors as your ex only scoffed and walked away. 

“Oh,” you said in understanding. 

Jeno only chuckled, “so, he went on saying how you are his ex and I shouldn’t be dating you,” he continued to tell you the story. 

Only Lee Jeno can talk so calmly in such a compromising position. You wondered if Jaemin had left already. 

“What did you reply?” You asked, voice coming out in a whisper as your body became aware of his hand which rested on your waist. 

“That you’re not his anymore,” he claimed, “that you’re mine now.” He said, breathily. 

You gulped down your nervousness. You knew it was a part of the act yet you couldn’t help but feel your skin tingling ever so slightly as you nodded. 

“Is he gone?” You asked, referring to Jaemin. 

Jeno blinked twice, finally looking up to see no sign of your ex anymore as he stepped back and you breathed in deeply. 

“The plan is working perfectly then,” you let out softly. 

He nodded, eyes crinkling. 

“I almost forgot,” you gasped, “Yunjin gave me this idea that we should go on a date!” 

“A date?” He asked, knowing that it’ll just be the two of you there. 

“Yes. It’s honestly just to make it believable. We can go out, click pictures and have a good time by eating good food,” you said, looking in his eyes for confirmation. 

“Sure, let’s do that,” he agreed, making you smile as you said you’d text him the details before rushing to your lecture. 

Jeno simply leaned back, staring at your rushing figure with tender eyes. 

Another week had gone by swiftly and the only thing that bothered you were the girls who came up to you, asking if you were truly in a relationship with Jeno, to which you said yes with the sweetest smile you could muster, crushing all their hopes of having a future with your fake boyfriend. 

Hyuck was hellbent on knowing more about this newfound relationship of yours, Ningning simply wanted to know if the calm and silent guy was good in bed, Yunjin and Karina were amazing at acting as if they didn’t know it was fake. Mark approached Jeno as he tried to get a few tips out of him since Mark wanted to man up and confess to his crush. 

As for Jaemin, you haven't seen him for the past two days. He didn’t sit with your group during lunch, nor was in any of your shared lectures. Even his girlfriend came to ask you guys if you had seen him. Only Jeno knew that Jaemin had spent the past two days drinking at their apartment. 

That was the least of your concerns as Ningning kept asking you random questions. 

“Favourite hair colour on guys?” She asked. 

“Black looks heavenly,” you admitted. 

“And haircut?” She asked Karina.

“Anything as long as it’s not a bowl cut,” she winced, distaste for that haircut clear on her face. 

“But guys, undercut looks so fucking hot, you have to admit that,” you pointed out and everyone seemed to agree with you. 

The conversation was casual but Jeno decided to take it up a notch and surprise you with something you had decided upon, yet never executed. 

“Let’s go on a date today, baby,” Jeno suggested, again making everyone stop and stare at you both. 

“Dude, how are you so cool?” Mark whined, wanting to do the same with his crush. 

“I thought you were shy, but I guess the silent ones are the freakiest,” Ningning commented. 

“He’s literally talking about a date, Ning,” you sighed. 

“I can't believe he took you away from me,” Hyuck shook his head as you gave him a look. 

“You guys were never together in the first place,” Karina reminded Hyuck, and he sobbed dramatically. 

Jeno looked at you expectantly, his eyes seemed bigger than usual and you could swear they were shining just the perfect amount. It somehow made you look away, biting your lower lip in the process before you nodded. 

“I’d love to,” you admitted. 

“Perfect, I’ll pick you up at five,” he said, grabbing his bag and swinging it on his right shoulder. 

He noticed how you looked happy this particular day, your face had a certain kind of glow to it and your smile was brighter. It seemed as if you were doing better now, and your friends really loved to see you this way. 

He bent down, touching your cheek tenderly, pressing his lips on your forehead ever so gently, making your eyes flutter close at the soothing sensation. 

“See you then, princess,” he whispered, looking at you one last time before going to attend his next lecture. 

“Did he just?” Hyuck covered his mouth. 

You were just as shocked as the others, not expecting any kind of PDA at all, especially when Jaemin wasn’t around. That was the first time he had done it. You bit your lip yet again, looking down at your lap, trying to contain your smile. 

Yunjin and Karina looked at you before looking at each other with a knowing look. 

Then they smiled, wishing for the best.  

“What do I even wear?” You huff in distress, looking at your roommates who looked like statues seeing your bed full of random clothes tossed around. 

“You can simply ask him where you guys are gonna go, it’s not like you’re actually dating and it’s a surprise,” Karina pointed out. 

You stopped, saying, “you’re right actually,” but then you whined, “I don’t wanna ask him such simple things, help me out guys.”

Yunjin sighed, mustering her stylist expression as she gave your wardrobe and your bed a once over, quickly getting all articles of clothing she wanted before handing them over to you, solving your problem in two minutes maximum. 

“Don’t you think this dress is a little fancy? I mean, we’re probably going to a local cafe,” You asked, cocking your brow. 

“Just trust me and wear this babygirl,” Yunjin said, using her usual nicknames. 

You had just finished applying your lip oil, concluding your makeup as you got a notification from Jeno saying he was outside your dorm. 

You smiled unknowingly at the text, a feeling of excitement, or rather, giddiness creeping up your stomach as you bid your roommates goodbye, grabbing your purse and not forgetting to thank them for tolerating your tantrums. 

Walking out of the dorm and towards the exit, you stopped as you saw Jeno leaning against his car, which wasn’t an unusual sight for you, however, you had never expected to see him in a black jacket, thinking that he’d be clad in his usual hoodies. 

His hair was neatly trimmed as he sported an undercut, which he didn’t have in the morning, meaning he got it cut right after your classes. 

Right after you revealed your liking for the particular haircut. 

“Jeno,” you whispered, walking closer to him, noticing how he wasn’t wearing his usual specs either, probably opting for the lenses instead. 

He was lost in his own thoughts, his eyes fixated on the flower he held in his hand, completely immersed in his thoughts before he looked up to see you standing right in front of him. 

“Y/n,” he murmured, his heart pounding slightly as he noticed the light breeze gently swaying the hem of your dress, “you look beautiful,” he smiled, dissipating your jittering nerves and sending a wave of warmth through your chest. 

“You look so—” you tried to find the right word, eyes never leaving his face as you had never seen him look so bold before, “captivating.”

He laughed at your statement, “here,” he said, extending his arm and passing you the flower he had gotten for you, the tips of your fingers brushed against his ever so slightly, “glad I could captivate you, sweetheart,” he whispered, winking at you. 

You were left stunned, wondering where did he get his sudden boost of confidence from as you sat inside his car, watching him start the car, gripping the steering wheel normally, yet it made the veins of his hands pop out. 

You cleared your throat, “so, where are you taking me today?” You asked him. 

“Well, that’s something you’ll have to wait and see,” he teased, building up your anticipation. 

“Okay, is it far though?” You asked, falling into a conversation with him so easily, and he told you it would be an hour long drive, making you wonder where you were off to. 

There was something so endearing about others sharing their favourite things and talking about them, you loved to hear all of it and you felt even better seeing Jeno comfortable around you as he went on telling you about the books he’d been reading and recommending the ones you’d like. 

One hour felt like a few minutes with him, time passing by effortlessly. Your lips parted in surprise once you saw where you were.

It was the fancy restaurant you’d been wishing to visit from the past year, but never got a chance to do so, “oh my god, I really wanted to come here to eat,” you told him, smile brightening and you were glad you had dressed up for it. 

“I know,” he said, extending his arm for you to hold. 

You looked at him, incredulous, “how?” 

“I asked Karina,” he admitted as you held on to his arm softly. 

You were thoroughly surprised at his revelation, knowing that he could’ve taken you to any normal place nearby but he chose this. You were in awe at how beautiful the interior was as you focused on the little details here and there. 

“You didn’t have to do so much, Jeno,” you whispered, loving how his skin shone under the light of the chandelier. 

He shook his head softly, eyes never leaving your face, “I know it’s a fake date but it doesn’t mean that I’ll take you to our usual cafés, you deserve more than that.”

You breathed in softly, breaking eye contact and looking at your fiddling fingers. You felt as if your heart was beating out of your chest. Everything he did felt so genuine and well thought of. He cared about your likes and dislikes, he always took a note of your preferences. 

Jaemin never did that. 

“You’re too fucking sweet,” you muttered under your breath so he can’t hear it. 

“Hm?” He asked, menu in his hands as he scanned it thoroughly for all possible options. 

“Nothing,” you smiled, getting your phone out and clicking a few candid pictures of him, which did capture his attention. 

“What’s that for?” He looked at you with big eyes, his face giving out the cutest expressions despite him looking tough in his undercut and newfound style. 

“Why not? Can’t post my boyfriend on my story now?” You asked cheekily. 

It was something you both had decided you’d do, the likes and replies flooded in soon as your friends were flabbergasted at the fact that Jeno had cut his hair and dressed up so well. 

You both decided upon the dishes you wished to have and the waiter noted it down kindly, leaving you two alone to talk after. 

“Won't you post me too?” You asked. 

“I will, you just have to wait for a while. I promise it’ll be the prettiest picture ever,” he said, full of confidence. 

“Well, that’s a challenge then because I don’t usually like my photos,” you smirked and he leaned in. 

“We’ll see how that goes,” he challenged. 

It was great that you could share any kind of emotions with him, whether it was you being goofy, him being silent, or you being nervous as he turns to be confident. It was a mix of everything. 

Soon, your food was served to you and even the scent of the scrumptious meal was enough to make your mouth water as you hummed with delight with just one bite, saying it melted just perfectly in your mouth. 

You didn’t notice him watching your eager face, loving your reaction as he felt like he did the right thing bringing you here. Until you catch him watching you. 

“Is there something on my face?” You asked cluelessly, pouting as you ate another bite. 

“Actually, yeah there is,” he said, leaning closer to caress the corner of your lip with his thumb, brushing away the crumbs gently as you simply sat with your heart pounding at his gesture. Even more so when he smiled, licking his thumb, “all done.” 

“You’re really so good at it,” you muttered, and this time he heard it. 

“At what?”

“If you do this,” you said, gesturing at your lip, “to any girl then she’ll definitely swoon over you.”

He raised his brow, “why? Did you like it that much?” 

An awkward chuckle left your mouth as you tried to dismiss his question, “I’m just saying,” you state, trying to be as nonchalant as possible. 

He only laughed, “alright, sweetheart.”

You whined, and the other families around looked at you both with soft eyes, thinking you both were cute together as his eyes turned into crescents at your behaviour. 

You couldn’t remember the last time you felt so at ease being out with someone. That wasn’t just all, Jeno insisted on taking you to another place for a little walk. Night had fallen as you walked together on a rather empty bridge, yet it was a pretty sight—water reflecting the glistening stars along with the crescent moon. 

“How’s Jaemin?” You asked all of a sudden, not noticing Jeno’s smile faltering for a fraction of a second. 

“He’s coping in his own way. I bet he’ll be back to uni tomorrow. But he definitely regrets it,” Jeno lets out slowly, “isn’t that your goal?” 

You stop walking, trying to find the right words, “yeah,” you whispered,  “but it’s not over until he confronts me himself. I need some closure,” you said, looking at him with a teasing smile now, “why? Don’t wanna be with me anymore?” 

He licked his lips, biting his tongue as he smiled, which you noticed was another habit of his, “of course not. It’s good to have someone to talk to.”

“Yeah? Then tell me more about you,” you said, looking at the water as you folded your arms over the railing. 

He was silent for a few seconds, joining you to lean on the railing, “I’ve always been the shy kid I guess. I was the one who always used to read sitting in the corner of a class and so, I never really had friends.”

You didn’t glance at him, letting him speak freely. Jeno was one of the kindest souls you had ever met and it was obvious even in the little time you had known him. You wanted him to be happy. 

“Jaemin was my friend ever since we were kids, our families are really close so he was forced to befriend me. He didn’t mind it, he was the kindest child and helped me talk to others, he was also the reason why I met you guys,” he sighed, “Jaem was always first when it came to everything, he led the way for me and I let him do that each time.” He turned his head, looking your way as he whispered, “until I realized I should’ve been the first this one time.”

You couldn’t understand what he was referring to, yet you understood that Jaemin was dear to him, however his recent actions caused him to drift apart from Jeno. 

A flash of light took you out of your trance. Jeno had clicked your picture, “show!” You said, almost jumping closer to him and his shoulders rose up as he laughed when you tried to get his phone from his hands. 

“You’ll see when I post it,” he said. 

You whined again, “but what if I look bad in the picture?”

“You can’t ever look bad, sweetheart,” he said earnestly and you could feel your cheeks heating up as you closed your mouth shut, biting your lip as you looked away shyly. 

He chuckled, “let’s get you home now.”

You checked the time on your wristwatch, “oh, yeah. It’s late.”

You both started walking towards his car, getting off the bridge as Jeno saw you shiver with the sudden gust of chilly air hitting you. 

He wasted no time in getting his jacket off and passing it to you, “here, it’s cold.”

Your eyes widened to see him wearing nothing but a white tank underneath which displayed his muscles as the moonlight accentuated it further. You never knew he worked out, your eyes travelling to his arms which were veiny. 

Jeno looked unreal, almost like the bad boys you’d see in a movie but his well sculpted face made him look like a Greek god. He really had it all. 

You didn’t even notice you had stopped walking as Jeno wrapped his jacket around your figure, smiling slightly as you reached the car, his scent enveloped you aa you hugged the jacket closer to you.  

“T—thank you,” you spoke, mentally slapping yourself for stuttering. 

“Can’t let my girlfriend freeze now, can I?” He stated more than asked. 

He helped you get in the car by opening the door, which he always did. It was another habit of his which you found endearing. He got in the car soon, looking your way before he leaned in all of a sudden, his face inches away from yours, causing you to stop breathing for a few seconds. 

The shape of his lips was beautiful. 

He leaned back soon, dragging the seatbelt with him as he secured you in your seat. The proximity reminded you of how he kissed your forehead in the morning, and your mouth worked before your mind could as you asked him about it. 

“Uh, so—why did you kiss my forehead in the morning?” You inquired. 

He most certainly was not expecting that question, and his expression gave it away, “your friends were watching,” he stated, licking his lips, “and Mark was suspicious as we never kissed before or did anything other than hand holding,” he explained. 

“Did he ask you about it?” You questioned, hugging the jacket closer to your body. 

Jeno hummed as a reply, seeing you get comfortable on the seat with droopy eyelids, he knew you were going to fall asleep soon and he let you. 

His heart could only take so much for one day. 

He made sure to drive safe, glancing at your sleeping figure from time to time and he swore you looked like a baby when you slept. 

You reached back safely and he stopped the car, he didn’t wish to wake you up when you looked so at peace. He called out your name softly, coming closer to pat your shoulder. 

You stirred in your sleep, opening your eyes slowly to find Jeno close to you. 

“We’re here,” he spoke, voice low. 

“Oh,” you blinked a few times, trying to adjust to the street lights as you got out of the car, not expecting Jeno to get out along with you. 

You looked at him in question and he just shrugged, his muscles flexing in the process, “let me walk you to your door,” he said. 

Jaemin never walked you to your door. 

“Don’t you ever get tired of being a gentleman?” You asked with an amused smile. 

“Not when it comes to you,” he uttered quietly. 

Heat rushed up the tip of your ears now that you stood in front of him, “Jeno—” you whispered, “thank you so much for today. I can’t remember the last time I had this much fun on a date.”

A fake date, you reminded yourself. 

“It’s good to see you happy,” he took a step closer, “good night, princess.”

He was gentle as he slowly brushed his fingers on your forehead to tuck your hair behind your ear, he leaned in closer, his lips grazing your forehead in a featherlight kiss. You closed your eyes, the warmth of his kiss lingering on your skin as he bid goodbye to you. 

He was walking away by the time you could open your eyes and breathe again, not even bothering to ask for his jacket back from you. 

You looked around your place once to see if your friends were watching this time. 

They weren’t. 

Your room had a tranquil atmosphere as the moonlight coming from the window lit it up. Your roommates were already asleep in their respective rooms as you got changed into your sleepwear and took your makeup off, carefully keeping Jeno’s jacket on the bed, not once thinking that your pillow would exude a scent like him too. 

It was hard to sleep, as if you had a feeling of giddiness bubbling up inside of you. Even after tossing and turning, you couldn’t find a perfect position to sleep, not to mention how your mind had created a montage of today’s date, replaying it over and over. 

You sighed, staring at the ceiling before closing your eyes shut, hoping you’d get some sleep before waking up for Uni in the morning. And slowly, you drifted to dreamland with Jeno’s scent lingering in the air. 

Your alarm clock was your enemy. You really needed a few more minutes to catch up on your sleep, grabbing your phone to see if there’s something that could drive your sleepiness away. 

There was. 

Your picture was the first thing you saw when you opened Instagram, it was posted by Jeno instead of being put up as a story, which was unusual since he only had two pictures on his account—one of him and the other one of his cats. 

A soft gasp left your mouth, heart thumping out of your chest as you saw the picture. The flash made you glow and you had the tiniest hint of a smile on your face as you looked at the night sky. 

It was indeed your prettiest picture anyone had ever captured, it was exactly what Jeno had promised. 

The caption, however, made you turn around and grab your pillow as you screamed into it, kicking your feet. 

My girl, that’s what he wrote in his caption, paired with a red heart. 

You knew it was for show but that didn’t stop the butterflies in your stomach from going feral. It felt too real, the gestures, the little things. It felt more real than your previous real relationship and you weren’t sure how you felt about it. 

It was another day where you had afternoon classes, and so you did not go to the uni with Jeno. You had not liked or commented on the picture yet, pondering about how to go on about this. 

Jeno had texted you twice, wishing you a good morning first and then asking if you had your lunch yet. You were tempted to reply but first, you gained a slight amount of courage and liked his post. 

You typed a comment with the first thing that came to your mind. 

You’re mine forever ❤️

Your cheeks burned up as you kept your phone down on one of the picnic benches kept around the campus, as that was the exact place you were sitting at after your classes had ended. 

A very whiny and feminine voice called out your name, and you looked up to see Linda along with your ex and your fake boyfriend. The smile on her face was sickening and you wondered what they were doing together. 

Yet again, you did not think twice before getting up and burying your face in Jeno’s chest, wrapping your arms around him in an embrace. This shocked Jeno, you could feel him go still for a negligible second before a deep laugh boomed up his chest, you could feel him vibrate as he wrapped his arms around your frame. 

“Missed me that much, baby?” He asked, patting your head. 

Jaemin watched the scene unfold with dark eyes. 

“I missed you so much, baby,” you whispered. 

It was the first time you had used a nickname on anyone, heck you never even called Jaemin that. 

A cough separated you both and now you couldn’t muster up enough courage to look at Jeno while he couldn’t stop looking your way. 

“Linda wants to have lunch together, like a double date,” Jeno told you and you saw Linda nod excitedly. 

“It’s so romantic! We even got the lunch packed, see!” She raised her hand to show you two bags which probably had the lunch she was talking about. 

This day couldn’t have gotten more weird. 

“That sounds great!” You tried to sound cheerful but it only came out awkward. 

Good for you, Linda didn’t pick up your tone and clapped excitedly, “we only have thirty minutes because I have my salon appointment after so let’s be fast,” she spoke in a go. 

You noticed Jeno sporting the same look of confusion as you, it was an awkward situation indeed. Jaemin didn’t say a word, only observing you and Jeno. 

Jeno took the paper bag and got the packed lunches out. He had gotten you your favourite salad with grilled chicken as he opted to get the same dish for himself, not forgetting to get you coke, which you preferred to drink while eating. 

He really paid a lot of attention to your likes and dislikes. 

Linda really couldn’t read the room as she never once stopped talking about this new lingerie set she got for herself, “Nana liked it too,” she giggled and you tried to focus on eating, not having it in you to picture it in your mind.  

“I’ve told you not to call me that,” he spoke, his words harsh. 

That was the first time he opened his mouth ever since you started eating. Linda didn’t care, pouting slightly as she started talking again, “let’s play couples quiz!” She squealed. 

You could feel your headache growing with her high pitched voice. 

“Jeno, when’s Y/no’s birthday?” She asked. 

He fixed his gaze on you, answering the question correctly. You tried not to be shocked, displaying your sweet smile for them. He actually knew a lot about you, the eye contact made you bite your lower lip before you asked. 

“Jaemin, when’s Linda’s birthday?” You asked now, questioning him directly, which he did not expect. 

“Third of February,” he said and Linda gasped, offended. 

“That’s not my birthday!” She almost screamed, bickering with him for a solid minute as Jeno passed you a few tissues, seeing the salad get on your fingers. 

“Okay, next question,” she said and she kept on asking him questions as if it was a rapid fire round and Jeno answered each of them correctly. Your heart was thumping out of your chest, he knew your favourite colour, your favourite tv show and singer, your favourite cake and song. 

Jaemin knew nothing. 

Linda didn’t know a thing about Jaemin either, just like he never knew a thing about Linda. 

Jaemin slammed his fist on the table, getting up and walking away without any second glance, you almost jumped with how loud the sound was, your hand resting on top of your chest to soothe your nerves. 

Linda ran after him, or rather she tried to run after him in her heels. 

“Are you okay?” Jeno asked you softly, his fingers caressing your cheek as he searched your face for any kind of discomfort. 

You nodded, gulping and looking away. 

This wasn’t supposed to happen. Your skin wouldn’t stop tingling where he had touched you, it was almost impossible for you to breathe when he was so close to you. 

“Y—yeah, I’m okay. I think I should go and get my assignments done now, yeah,” you said, fumbling over your words as Jeno frowned, wondering if he did something wrong. 

“Y/n—”

“I’ll see you tomorrow!” You waved at him, almost running away, leaving him with a dejected sigh. 

Of course, you didn’t have to answer his questions, he reminded himself. It was a fake relationship after all. 

So, while you laid in your bed with your pillow clutched close to your chest, Jeno stood in front of Jaemin at their apartment. 

“Since when do you eat salad?” Jaemin asked, tone somewhat disappointing laced with a hint of jealousy. 

“Y/n likes it,” Jeno smiled softly, “It was hard not to like it after.”

“You hated coffee,” Jaemin almost accused. 

“I like it now, it’s normal to develop your taste,” Jeno replied calmly. 

“You’ve never gone on a date before, you’ve never had this kind of hairstyle before. You’re changing yourself and for what?” Jaemin sighed, shoulders dropping when he accused him again. 

Jeno only bit his lip, “love does things to you and I think I'm changing for the better.”

Love. 

That’s all Jaemin had to hear before leaving the room. 

“Why are you sulking, babygirl?” Yunjin asked you the next day, seeing you sitting with your blanket wrapped around you, a piece of chip in your mouth as you lazily snacked on it. 

“Nothing,” you mumbled, hiding your face. 

Yunjin rolled her eyes, “you were squealing in the morning yesterday, what changed?” 

You sighed deeply, “I guess I’m just feeling a bit down today,” you shrugged. 

She sat down on the bed, right in front of you before pulling you in the most warm and comfortable hug. It was something you appreciated even more this particular day. You felt conflicted with your feelings. 

It’s the little things, it’s always the little things when it comes to Jeno, it creates a bigger picture for him. But for Jaemin, it was only the larger picture with no elements supporting it. 

“That’s the problem, babygirl. I’m not gonna let you drown in your own blanket all evening. You’re coming with me to the party,” Yunjin stated, opening your closet to select an outfit for you already. 

Turns out that Yunjin can be a great manipulator because there was no way you’d be standing in the middle of a party with a vodka shot in your hand otherwise. 

Maybe drinking would help you, it always does. It’s almost pathetic how you’re ready to get shitfaced for a whole night just to get rid of intrusive thoughts, the thoughts which consisted of Jeno and Jeno only. 

You drank that shot in a go, getting another one as Hyuck tried to stop you but to no avail. Once you had taken three shots, all in a row, you turned around to find Karina, who looked as if she spent a while trying to find you. 

“Y/n! Where have you been?” She asked, grabbing your hand, “come, we’re gonna play upstairs.” Without much fighting, she dragged you upstairs and Hyuck followed behind. 

You wondered what Jeno would be doing right now. 

The multicoloured lights were shining bright as they covered the expanse of the whole staircase, which you had trouble walking up, courtesy of your heels and a very short dress. 

Karina opened the door to a room and your eyes immediately scanned the surroundings to understand who you were going to deal with tonight. 

It was your whole friend group and some of their mutual friends too, however that wasn’t why you stood frozen in your spot at the given moment. 

Lee Jeno, the guy you had been avoiding since yesterday, was sitting in the same circle, the bean bags, sofas and chairs were arranged to be that way, as he sipped on a can of beer which he held in his slender fingers. 

Seeing him at the party was shocking enough as he rarely attended any, but to add on to it, he was all dressed up as well. 

He sipped on the drink, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he gulped. The side angle gave you the best view of his undercut and defined jawline, your eyes travelling down to his chest, which was exposed as the top few buttons of his white shirt were unbuttoned, a black leather jacket covering him up as he also sported a few rings on his long, veiny fingers, a necklace gracing his slender neck. 

You almost forgot how to breathe until Karina pushed you forward, which gained the attention of Jeno, who smiled your way as he expected you to come over to him. 

Karina and Yunjin high fived in the background, meaning; it was their plan for you both to meet at the party. 

Your heels clicked as you walked towards him, it was as if you both were the only ones in the room at the given moment. He wasn’t being subtle as he stared at you, especially how he looked up when you stood next to him. 

“Baby,” he whispered, pulling you to him—which was something you never expected. 

You landed straight on his lap, his arm wrapped around you securely as the other one rested on your thigh, covering up your skin which was showing, courtesy of your short dress. 

Your mind blanked, you couldn’t think anymore as goosebumps rose up your arms when he spoke in his deep voice, the others also stopped to stare at you both as he was not the one to show affection in public. 

Hyuck and Yunjin teased you both, yet that wasn’t something you paid much attention to. You didn’t even see Jaemin sitting in the same room, as if he wasn’t anyone to you anymore. 

“I missed you so fucking much,” he whispered, making you sit close to him, your hand working on its own as it held on to his broad shoulder for support. 

You should have been used to this whole fake dating plan of yours, yet you couldn’t ever get used to Jeno’s constant surprises. It didn’t feel like it was fake when it came to him and it most certainly wasn’t a help how you could feel the alcohol kicking in, his hand felt warm on your cold skin. 

“Jeno,” you whispered, looking at him with hooded eyes. 

However, you never got to say anything further as others had decided on playing a classic game of twenty one dares. 

The first dare went to Mark, who was given the dare to kiss his crush who sat right next to him. 

“Why were you avoiding me all day?” Jeno asked in a whisper when everyone else was busy cheering for Mark. 

You had no answer for it, nor did you have any way to control your heart which was thumping out of your rib cage with the proximity. 

You breathed out with a chuckle which sounded forced, grabbing a beer can which was on the table in front of you, “avoiding you? Why would I?” You asked, looking away. 

That wasn’t much help as he was quick to grab your chin, making you look his way again, “did I do something wrong?” 

His actions were bold, yet his voice was sweet and full of concern. You shook your head, resting it on his shoulder, “of course not,” you whispered, not having it in you to look at him, “you’re really perfect, Jeno.”

He wasn’t given any time to react as others cheered. 

Apparently, it was your turn to get a dare and the evil smile on Renjun’s face gave it all away, as if he knew exactly what was going on between you two. 

“I dare you to kiss Jeno,” he smirked as everyone minus Jaemin clapped, Mark nodding, still red from the kiss. 

“True, we’ve never seen you kiss,” Hyuck muttered in realization. 

You stopped breathing, seeing everyone cheering for you. You had fake kissed him when Jaemin was watching that one day in the lawns, yet this was a whole different story when they were demanding an actual kiss from you both. 

Jeno’s hand tightened around your waist, your dazed eyes taking in his expression as he raised his hand to cup your cheek, caressing the corner of your lips gently, as if he was asking for your permission. 

You knew you were drunk, yet all your senses made you feel as thought you were the sanest person alive. The anticipation felt so painful and you could feel Jaemin’s stare on you both. 

With a tender sigh, your eyes closed shut as you grabbed the collar of his jacket, pulling him into you. 

Your lips collided in a fervent kiss, your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging it ever so slightly, causing him to groan into your mouth as his hand supported the back of your head, tilting it slightly as your desire and passion fused together, transcending your surroundings. 

You couldn’t hear the whistling or screaming around your surroundings, your mind completely gave in to the pretty boy, who was kissing you like his life depended upon it. 

His lips were soft, perfectly moulding against yours as you moved them in harmony, letting the sheer pleasure take over your senses to the point you couldn’t differentiate between whether you were drunk which made you feel as if you were in the state of unadulterated ecstasy or it was simply Jeno’s effect on your body. 

You didn’t pay attention to Jaemin, who threw the beer can on the floor, walking away from the room, nor did you care about Linda who ran after him. 

All you knew was that Lee Jeno was kissing you and he was exceptionally amazing at it. 

He squeezes your waist as you gasped, letting him bite your lower lip, lacking his usual self control as he mentally claimed you to be too intoxicating for him. 

“Hey! Get a fucking room!” Renjun shouted. 

That was enough for you to break the kiss, your eyes still closed as your chest heaved up and down, blood rushing to your cheeks as you felt tingly all over, the shiver going down your spine all the way to your abdomen. 

Jeno was already staring at you by the time your eyes fluttered open. His lips looked plump, slightly swollen from how you had kissed him, the veins on his neck seemed even more prominent but his eyes—they were dark, laced with lust. 

He didn’t wish to stop. 

You didn’t want him to stop. 

He got up from the chair, making you stand up along with him, his fingers quick to intertwine with yours as he pulled you with him, your wide eyes drifting to look at Karina who only winked at you, giving a thumbs up alongside it. 

“Jeno,” you breathed, following him out and into an empty room, which he locked before pushing you against the wooden door. 

You could barely stand given how weak your knees felt at that exact moment. It most certainly didn’t help that Jeno bent down to your level, the dim lights of the room making his skin shine as he asked you again. 

“Why were you avoiding me, Y/n?” His tone gave you goosebumps when you heard your name roll out of his tongue. 

Forming sentences felt like a tough job when his lips were borderline touching yours, “because,” you whispered mindlessly, wrapping your arms around his neck, “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” Your voice was quiet, just like the room, which made it sound louder than intended as you looked him up through your lashes. 

His jaw was clenched, you could notice him breathing deep, his hold on you tight and you chuckled deeply, alcohol taking over your senses, “I can’t stop thinking of you, Jeno.”

You didn’t let him reply before you pressed your lips onto his, your bodies pressed against each other, mouths moving as your lips melded and parted, his hands all over your body, every touch igniting a spark in you. 

He tapped your thigh twice and you got the memo, jumping into his arms as he picked you up with ease, muscles flexing in the process but his lips never left yours while he walked towards the bed, helping you lie down as he got on top of you, your legs wrapping around his waist as your dress started riding up your thigh. 

He leaned back, eyes fixated on yours but you only continued to pepper kisses along his jawline, and down his neck, making him growl as he stopped you from unbuttoning his shirt. 

“You’re drunk, baby. I don’t want you to regret anything in the morning,” he says softly, breathing in your scent as he inhales deeply. 

“I’m not,” you whined, switching your positions to be sitting in front of him, trying to remove his jacket, before he stops you with his fingers wrapping around your wrist. 

He cupped your cheek as you looked at him sadly, “tell me, do you not want me?” You’d ask, playing with his necklace. 

“Fuck,” he muttered. He couldn’t hold himself back, not when your eyes sparkled with innocence and undeniable glimmer of need, “you have no idea, darling,” he chuckles, running his thumb on your lower lip, which was still wet from your kiss, “I want you so fucking much.”

That was enough for you to smile at him, eyes hazy as you slid off the bed and got on your knees, unbuckling his belt as you fumbled with the button of his jeans while Jeno couldn’t believe this was happening. 

The strap of your dress slid down, revealing more of your cleavage, that’s exactly when you helped him get out of his jeans, revealing his boxers. Your fingers grazed his clothed cock, your lips tugging up as you saw him groan, even more so when you kissed his semi-hardened cock. 

His eyes never left yours during the entire time you teased him, getting his leather jacket off, leaving him in his white button up and boxers, which you pulled down in a go. 

A shiver went down your abdomen, making you close your thighs with how big he was. His cock was hard, leaking with precum that made your mouth water. He had the biggest cock you had ever witnessed in your life, girth and veiny too. 

He sucks in a sharp breath when you take him in your small hand, squeezing it a smidge before planting featherlight kisses all over his length, swirling your tongue around his head, he bit his lip as he took the scene in front of him. You licked big stripes of his length before taking his head into your mouth. 

That snapped him out of his daze, he couldn’t take your teasing any longer. Pushing himself up slightly, he spread his legs to accommodate your body between it as he grabbed your nape, gathering your hair in a makeshift ponytail as you took him in, your hands stroking the base where your lips couldn’t reach. 

“Just like that, sweetheart,” he growled, pushing your head to hold his cock in you even deeper. 

You can’t help but think how he looks nothing like his sweet self in the given moment, he looks like a devil who’s thirsting for lust, his eyes dark and so immersed in your activities. 

His length throbs in your mouth as you continue your ministrations, quickening your pace as you sucked him off with all you had, hearing him growl made you realize how your panties were soaking wet when you release him with a satisfying pop sound, looking up at him again.

He sat straighter, his thumb wiping the saliva that was all over your chin and lips before pulling you up on the bed, spreading your legs to see a wet patch on your panties as you struggled to take your dress off. 

He chuckled deeply, “Oh, bunny. Let me help you with that,” he says cursing once he sees you without any bra, his fingers tracing your neck, your clavicle and goes down all the way to play with your tits. 

However, that’s not all he does. Your toes curl when he yanks your panties to the side, immersing his tongue to tease your clit before he licks and sucks you thoroughly, humming against your folds as he gets drunk on the taste of your juices. 

His tongue prods on your entrance, pushing it in as your fingers grabbed his roots, tugging on his hair which also elicited a deep groan from him, your eyes rolling back with how ecstatic you felt. 

He fucked your cunt, pushing his tongue in while his thumb worked wonders on your sensitive bundle of nerves, making you squirm around, finally moaning out, “Jeno, oh god!” You cried out. 

“That’s it baby, scream my name,” he whispers against you, the moist squelching noises filling up the room as you arched your back, your body shaking with how you could feel your high approaching, as he yearned for your pussy, not stopping once, as if he had completely plunged his body to focus on your pleasure and your pleasure only. 

You chanted his name as if it was a mantra you had to recite, and that’s exactly when you felt your stomach tightening, a teardrop leaving the corner of your eye, cascading down your neck as you allowed yourself to feel the unadulterated bliss Jeno provided you with. 

It wasn’t the alcohol, you admitted. 

You were drunk on Jeno. 

You breathed in deeply as he licked you up, finally getting up as he rolled your nipples between the rough pads of his fingers before he also removed his last article of clothing, leaving you to see the shadow of his abs and pecs clearly. 

“Tell me you won’t regret this in the morning, baby,” he breathes out, searching your eyes as his length brushes against your sensitive cunt. 

“I won’t,” you promised, “I want you, I need you, Jeno,” you cried out as his eyes turned hooded. 

He silenced your loud moan with his lips on yours, your nails digging into his back as he gave a sharp thrust, filling you up till he bottomed out easily with how wet you were, kissing your tears away and giving you a minimum of two seconds before he grabbed your wrists, holding them above your head. 

“Do you know how pretty you look right now, bunny?” He asks, giving you another sharp thrust, this particular one hitting your g-spot, which had you whimpering out his name, “all mine, yeah?” He asks, thrusting harder, his hips slapping your ass. 

“Y—yours!” You managed to speak, eyes closing shut with pleasure. 

“Open your eyes, baby. Look at me when I fuck your pretty little cunt,” he whispers as your wail out when his cock hits your cervix. 

He takes his time to kiss and mark your neck, his teeth digging in as he sucks on your sensitive skin harsh enough to leave marks. 

It was effortless how he moved in and out of you so easily despite groaning about how tight your little hole was and you felt dumb, you couldn’t think, you couldn’t speak. You just knew one thing and that was Jeno. 

He manhandled you easily, turning you around and lifting your ass up, your face buried into the pillow as your mascara smudged, just how your lipstick was smudged all over your cheeks. 

He thrusted into you yet again, smacking your ass as he saw it jiggle with the impact, another moan reverberated the room, which made him spank you twice more before he started fucking you again, your walls clenching around him with need as he gave you almost brutal backshots. 

“I’m—Fuck!” You cried out, almost passing out as you breathed in deeply. 

You both were so close, his cock twitched in you as his thrusts got sharper, “go on, bunny. Cream my cock like a good fucking girl,” he growled. 

You withered beneath him as you screamed out his name with sheer pleasure as you reached your high, coating his cock with your juices before he also moaned deeply, fucking his cum into your glistening pussy. 

He breathed in deeply as he pulled out, staring at your cunt which was dripping with your juices mixed together. 

He sighed softly, holding you in his arms, “baby,” he whispered softly as you initiated a soft kiss, getting on his lap again as your heart beat rose up to the point you could hear it in your ears while Jeno felt the same way. 

He could see how exhausted you were by how you started dozing off in his arms. He didn’t know what would happen tomorrow, he didn’t want to know. All he wanted was to have you in his arms now and freeze the time. 

It took him time to get up as he helped you get dressed up again, before he picked you up in his arms, getting down to see the party winding up. You were asleep and cuddling into him, his heart still racing as he saw Yunjin smiling at you two, “take her home with you,” she said, “and you better take care of her,” she added as a genuine warning, which made Jeno nod earnestly. 

He would never hurt you.  

He really was perfect with how he took you to his room safely, with how he tried to remove your makeup even though he had no idea what he was doing, yet he was gentle as you slept with how drunk and exhausted you were. He made sure to change your clothes to his loose ones, just so you would sleep comfortably. 

He had fucked you, however he still was respectful and tried to not look your way while he changed your clothes. 

You looked so peaceful as you snuggled close to his pillow in his bed, he couldn’t help but stare at you with a soft smile as he kissed your forehead, “sleep well, baby.” He whispered as he slid under the covers next to you, holding you as if he was scared he’d lose you, his body shivering ever so slightly at the thought as he cradled you in his arms. 

Jeno really was perfect. 

Your body was sore, the sunlight almost blinding you, adding on to the throbbing pain in your head as you shifted around the covers, opening your eyes with a groan to find yourself in unfamiliar surroundings. 

A low cry left your lips as the memories of the past night flooded into your mind, the graphic details of Jeno and you, the way he had asked you if you’d regret it. 

You didn’t regret a thing. 

And neither did you know how you’d face him after this. Yes, everything that started off as a fake relationship but even you couldn’t deny that none of it felt fake to you. 

Butterflies erupted in your stomach as you saw a little note on the nightstand saying—

Good morning, sweetheart <3 Please take this medicine when you wake up and also drink the hangover soup! I’ll be at Uni and will be back by the time you wake up, love. 

“Why do you have to be so perfect?” You whined to yourself, kicking your feet, “why do you have to make me feel this way?” You whispered to yourself, gulping and looking at the medicines and a bowl of soup on the nightstand. 

You didn’t realize that you were wearing Jeno’s clothes till you spilled a little drop of soup on it, eyes widening for the nth time today as you gasped. 

You couldn’t stay anymore, you got up and rushed to grab your clothes, which were folded neatly before you changed into them with a rush, getting out of his room while you checked your phone, bumping into a hard chest. 

You winced, looking up as your expression dropped. 

Na Jaemin stood there, his eyes sad as he searched your face for some kind of emotion, any kind of emotion, however you didn’t give him anything, choosing to walk away but he was quick to grab your wrist. 

“Y/n,” he spoke your name in desperation and you tried your best not to turn around, yet you did, looking at his regret stricken face as he spoke further, “I broke up with Linda,” he started and you almost snorted. 

“Well, good for you,” you said, turning around yet again, only to be stopped. 

“Don’t fucking do this, Y/n,” he breathes, eyes watery, “I know you and Jeno aren’t dating. Come back to me, baby, I regret everything I did to you, please?” He almost begs. 

“Don’t call me that,” you seethed out, “you know nothing about us and it’s too late, Jaemin. I don’t want you.”

He didn’t let you leave, pulling you into a hug as you struggled to get away, “I know you’re angry and you don’t mean it. Let’s be together again, we used to be so happy,” he whispered. 

“And you fucking ruined it,” you cried out, pushing him away, “you ruined everything and you never cared about us! But y’know what? Jeno isn’t like you. He’s kind, caring and he’s genuine about everything,” you let out, stepping away, “I love him.” 

Saying that out loud felt like you had lifted a boulder off your chest. Your face was equally surprised as Jaemin, but you didn’t stay any longer, shaking your head as you rushed out of the apartment and got into the safety of your own dorm. 

You loved Jeno. 

And you were sure he didn’t feel the same, it was all fake for him. You sat in your bathtub for hours, pondering and mentally slapping yourself for letting this happen but it was beyond you. Jeno was so easy to love. 

What scared you the most that he hadn’t called you once, nor did he reply to any of your texts throughout the day. Your heart broke into pieces when he didn’t show up in front of your dorm to pick you up. 

You were sure he hated you for drunkenly acting up that night, maybe that’s why he kept avoiding you. You had ruined everything. 

The plan for the day wasn’t to attend the classes, but to find Jeno. Every second that passed by without him talking to you felt like a punishment, as if your anxiety would eat you up through and through. 

He wasn’t by the lawns, he wasn’t in the cafeteria and you could feel your eyes welling up with tears of frustration when you couldn’t find Jeno. Yet you didn’t lose hope as you thought that he’d be in his lectures. 

A big smile etched your face when you found him standing in front of his locker and you sprinted his way, which startled him. It was as if he didn’t expect to see you in front of him, his eyes leaving yours for a second before he smiled at you. 

It was forced. 

“Jeno,” you breathed out as you felt fidgety, “can we talk?” 

He bit his lower lip, not answering for a few seconds before he nodded, guiding you towards the rooftop for privacy, not uttering a word throughout the way. 

You stood side by side, watching the cloudy sky as he finally looked your way, “congratulations,” he let out, trying to smile. 

You looked at him, confused which only made him speak further. 

“I saw you and Jaemin hugging,” his voice broke but he gained his composure, “I know you’re probably back together now and you don’t need me—”

“Jeno,” you whispered, shaking your head as you stepped closer to stop him, yet he continued. 

“We don’t have to fake date anymore,” he nodded, looking at his feet, “I’m glad I could help you forget about him for some time and also with your revenge—”

You were on the verge of crying by now as you whispered his name again. 

“I’m so stupid to have thought that maybe it won’t be fake, but I know you want Jaemin—”

“Don’t you fucking see that I want you? Jaemin and I talked, yes we did and I told him I don’t want him. I don’t fucking want him, Jeno. You’re not a rebound to me, This isn��t fake to me anymore, I don’t think it ever felt fake to me,” you let out your frustrations, shutting him up fully. 

“My heart feels like it would beat out of my chest every fucking time I’m near you, this longing intensifies each day and it scares me so much,” a crystalline tear escaped your eyes and Jeno was quick to cup your face, as if on instinct and wipe it away, “you do this sweet things no one ever did for me, you remember the smallest details about me and I feel restless when we don’t talk. I’ve grown so used to being around you, it’s not fucking fake. I think—I’m falling in love with you Jeno,” you finally let out. 

“You—you love me?” He asks, voice barely a whisper as he finds it hard to breathe and you nod, his slender fingers still cupping your cheek, “you hugged Jaemin—”

“I pushed him away,” you said in a beat, “he hugged me, I didn’t,” you assured him, grabbing his hand which rested on your cheek, “I told him I love you.”

Jeno pulled you in his embrace, his body shook slightly which broke your heart thinking how he had it all wrong, you never wanted to see him hurt, just like how he always wished for you to be happy. 

He held you tighter, making you feel safe as warmth bloomed up your chest, “I liked you ever since I saw you painting with Renjun on the day we met, but Jaemin was faster to reach out to you,” he confesses and you part your mouth with surprise as he leaned back to look at you, chuckling ever so lightly, “I hated how he treated you but when you came to me for help, I got selfish and used this to get closer to you, even if it meant that I’d have to fake date you,” he muttered, pressing his forehead against yours, “but I fell harder each day, even more so when I had to hold your hand and it felt so small against mine yet it fit perfectly, when you dressed up so beautifully for a fake date with me, when you looked so adorable in my jacket, when you remembered my birthday and my likes which even I hadn’t noticed before. I fell in love with you, baby,” he smiled through the tears as you pulled him in for a kiss, both of you smiling uncontrollably as it full of tenderness and affection, your hearts beating together as you shared unspoken promises through it. 

You weren’t fake dating anymore as you looked at him with a silly smile, taking the document of your agreement out before scratching out a line. 

Rule number one: Don’t fall in love. 

THANK YOU FOR READING

dedicated to @jayzdaze just like i promised <3

TAGS: @celeste-hoon @ddeonuism @angleticaaa @girlwholovekpop

© jaylaxies | tumblr

[n0hyuck]

“you should start an onlyfans.”

synopsis -> it’s your boyfriends birthday! but he could care less about the fact that you want to celebrate him. you’re determined to change that.

warnings: a birthday blowjob!

—

when the clock struck midnight, you were ready – walking into your boyfriend’s room with the bento cake in your hand, a bear candle lit up in the middle, your soft voice ringing through his room, affectionately singing him the melody reserved for him on this special day, once a year.

haechan! quickly darts his eyes from his computer screen to you, a small smile on his face. he lets you finish singing the tune, the boys joining in through his headset. he closes his eyes for half a second to make a wish. then he blows out the candle “you’re too sweet baby, thank you,” he says, his honey, husky voice complimenting your ears as he places a quick kiss on your lips.

but before you could deepen the kiss, his eyes had already drifted back to his screen, gaming headphones back on, one hand on his mouse, the other on his keyboard, playing away.

you stared at him for a second too long, lips still tingling, birthday cake sitting untouched by the monitor’s glow. he was back in the zone, all commands and focused flicks, the world around him falling away.

except — you weren’t going to let it.

it’s been a while since you had some time together, with tour and fan events and preparations for his solo taking him away most days. you understand it. you love him anyways but you’ve missed him in ways more than one.

you make your way behind his gaming chair, your arms going around his shoulders, “baby—” you whisper against his neck, watching the goosebumps rise all over his skin. you place a sweet kiss on one of his moles there, “i need you,” you say, needy and desperate.

he just glances your way once, muttering, “later, babe,” while tapping your hand before going back to his game, eyes locked on the screen.

so this is how he wants to play it? game on.

without a word, you quietly dropped to your knees, fitting yourself in the slot between his legs, under his desk. he spares you a quick glance, an eyebrow raising but jeno is quick to yell in his ear, something about needing cover, and his attention is away from you once again.

you almost couldn’t believe it. how you were prettily on your knees for him, in between his legs, and you’re still losing to the stupid video game he plays every other night.

you ghost your fingers over his thigh, his leg twitching in response. his eyes flicked down, giving you another second, brows knitting, “what are you–”

“shhh, baby focus on your game,” you whispered, hands sliding up, voice silky and innocent, “just wanted to celebrate you properly.”

you felt his breath hitch, subtle, but not enough. his game kept going, teammates shouting in his ears through the mic. his grip on the mouse faltered just a little bit.

you looked up at him through your lashes, then your hands palm his already hard member through his sweats, wondering why he won’t just give in to his own needs. give in to you. you could feel the tension ripple through him, his focus visibly splitting. his legs parting on instinct, making more room for you.

“don’t mind me,” you purred, sneaking your hand down his sweats to finally set his cock free, thick and heavy and leaking.

he tenses under your touch, “keep playing,” you tease.

“you’re evil,” he muttered under his breath, trying not to move too much, voice low and strained.

“happy birthday,” you whisper, a devilish grin on your lips before you licked a strip from the base of his cock all the way to his tip, your tongue swirling around his head, collecting the juices he already has for you.

his jaw clenches, and you hear his character on the screen breathing heavily, after taking a couple of hits, “guys, focus! we can’t lose this round!,” you hear yangyang’s voice, making you roll your eyes.

“yeah, baby, focus, don’t want to let your team down,” you say innocently, before wrapping your mouth around his cock.

“on–fuck…o-on your left,” he manages to direct, his voice faltering the moment your lips sink down further, cheeks hollowing, taking all of him in. you feel so warm around him and he’s losing control with every second, his hips twitching upward ever so slightly, betraying just how hard he’s trying to keep it together.

you’re winning now, slowly but surely.

your mouth starts moving, bobbing your head up and down, wet and warm, hands resting on his thighs as you sucked harder, swirling your tongue in ways you know drives him crazy. he’s barely holding onto his composure now, muttering broken callouts into the mic, voice hoarse and breathless.

“haechan, what’s going on with your mic?,” chenle’s voice pipes up, suspicion laced in his tone.

you almost laugh around him but manage to keep your mouth steady, hollowing your cheeks as you draw back with a soft pop, only to dive down again, deeper this time. his thighs shake under your grip, his hand instinctively tugging his chair forward, almost trapping you between him and the desk.

“h-hold on, i-ill fix it,” he grits out, fingers scrambling for the keyboard to hit mute. he hits so many wrong keys before you finally hear the dull click of his mic cutting off.

then, finally, his head tips back against the chair with a low groan, “fuuucck, baby,” he breathes, eyes shut tight, one hand fumbling down to your hair, gripping like it was the only thing keeping him grounded.

you hum around him in response.

you win.

your tongue teases that sensitive underside, your hand coming up to stroke what you can’t fit in your mouth. he’s trembling now, his whiny moans making your pussy twitch, and all that focus he had just ten minutes ago is completely obliterated.

“yo,” comes jaemin’s voice, tiny through the headset, “did he just moan?”

you freeze. but only for a second because your boyfriend didn’t even hear it. didn’t even flinch. just muttered a low, “shit,” under his breath as he pushed your head down further.

he thrusts up once, shallow, needy and you moan in approval.

“i can’t believe you,” he mutters, voice shaking, “you’re fucking insane,” whiny, desperate moans of your name slipping out of his lips.

his hips twitch, his thighs tense, you feel him teetering right on the edge, “shit baby, just like that, please, please, please—”

you knew he was close with the way his breaths were getting shallower, his toes curling into the carpet, the grip on your hair tightening.

you pull back for a brief second, eyes gleaming, lips wet and swollen, “you gonna come for me, birthday boy?,” you purr, sucking his tip in the way you know always pushes him over the edge.

he couldn’t even answer, his eyes completely rolling to the back of his head, jaw open in a soundless moan as his cum shoots messily out of his cock, a few drops on your tongue, a few drops on your cheek – a painting made by him.

game over.

for a moment it’s quiet, just him trying to slow his breathing, looking at you with dazed eyes, like you were the prettiest thing he’s ever gotten the privilege of ever having.

“uhhh, haechan?,” yangyang’s voice cuts through the air, awkward and almost too polite, making haechan’s eyes shot wide open. and then he sees it.

he didn’t click mute — he only switched the mic to his computer.

“oh my god,” he croaks, sitting upright so fast the chair squeaks beneath him, “no. no, no no no no–”

“bro,” jaemin says, barely holding in his laugher, “was that…a live performance?”

you’re still in between his legs, licking a drop off the corner of your mouth with a smirk, completely unbothered, “you didn’t mute it?,” you ask sweetly, as if you’re the innocent one here.

“i thought i muted it!,” haechan yells, slamming his keyboard like the traitor it is, “i switched it to computer audio,” he groans.

“which means we heard everything by the way!,” chenle shouts, howling with laughter.

“you said y/n’s name,” jeno adds snickering, “like…a lot.”

“please, please, please,” renjun adds, mocking him.

you cover your mouth to muffle your laugher but he’s already burying his face in his hands, whole body curling inward like he’s trying to disappear into the floor.

“you should start an onlyfans,” yangyang suggests, and this finally has you bursting out laughing.

“you should baby, you sounded so pretty for us.”

he glares at you through his fingers, “you knew?”

you just smile at him, eyes shining as you finally stood up.

“i hate all of you,” he mutters, yet still wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into his lap like a shield from the world.

you giggle as you straddle him, arms wrapping around his shoulder, “happy birthday, baby.”

his gaze darkens and the words that slip out his lips makes you lose your breath.

“does anyone want to hear my girlfriends moans while i fuck her?,” he says, voice low and filled with sweet venom, almost a growl.

you freeze in his lap, heart pounding loud in your ears, his fingers dig into your hips and for a moment, you think he might actually do it. pull you in deeper, press the mic closer, let them really hear what you do to him. what he does to you.

but then, without breaking eye contact, he reaches over with one hand and slams his computer shut. everything cuts to black.

he lifts you up, tossing you onto the bed and as he stands at the edge, slowly pulling his hoodie over his head, eyes fixed on you, his voice comes out low and final, making your thighs clench.

“no one gets to hear your moans,” he growls, hovering over you now, eyes burning into yours, “they’re mine…and mine only.”

—

an: happy birthday to my one and only haechanie!!! and my last gift for you all today! of course he was going to get a birthday blurb, i’ve had this scenario in my head set up since last month lol. also the haechan above lives in my head rent free like whyyyy did he angle it that way?? doesn’t he know his fans are insane (me).

[n0hyuck]

wild thoughts | l.jn [mdni!!]

genre: smut. just general filth. roommate!au

word count: 1.8k

warnings & info: afab!reader, sub!jeno, hair pulling, unprotected sex (pls use a condom), dumbification if you squint, jeno is blonde, oral (m receiving), reader calls jeno "puppy" a lot, creampie, begging, lmk if i missed anything!

being jeno's roommate was easy enough. he was quiet, always did his share of the chores, and his dumb puppy moments were mostly endearing and oftentimes hilarious.

emphasis on 'mostly.'

one thing that made being jeno's roommate so difficult was how fucking sexy he was. his warm weather wardrobe consisted exclusively of tank tops and muscle tees — sometimes he didn't even bother with a shirt at all. he was so fun to look at; you'd find yourself staring at his biceps while he cooked you both dinner or at the veins in his hands while he defeated you in mariokart. combine his complete lack of self-awareness with general stupidity, and you'd occasionally get that dumbstruck puppy look on his face that was just so cute, but a sliver of the time made you melt into a puddle.

one time, he came out in a pair of shorts (if you wanted to call that glorified denim thong 'shorts') that were obviously yours with the assumption that his own shorts had simply shrunk in the wash. when you explained his ill thought process, he stared at you with this sweet, confused look on his face, but you couldn't stop thinking about the way the muscles in his thighs flexed when he pulled the shorts down from his tiny waist and off of his body to hand you your shorts back. the fact that he had absolutely no idea what he was doing, somehow, made it a million times worse.

so, it was anything but a surprise when jeno barged into your bedroom, shirtless with a frying pan in his hand, ready to defend you from whatever monstrosity was inducing such breathy shouts of his name. jeno quickly came to find that the catalyst for such vocalizations was nothing more than your vibrator and you picturing him in your head.

"o-oh," he stammered. "um, i'm sorry. i thought you were calling out because there was a bug or something."

you laid in your bed, thighs opened with your vibrator (now on off mode) sitting between your legs, your dripping cunt on full display for the blushing boy in your doorway.

"were you gonna kill a roach with a frying pan, jen?" you asked.

his face reddened more, if possible, and he timidly put the pan behind his back. "oh, uhm..."

you shift around your bed, opting to position yourself on your knees. "you know, you are so cute when you act all clueless like that."

jeno blinked. "i'm not pretending-"

"i know," you said, shuffling towards the edge of your bed. "but the way you act just makes me want to fucking devour you."

jeno, at this point, felt like the one melting. "you think about me when you- you know?"

"of course," you said slyly while inching further towards him. "don't you think about me?"

jeno's eyes widened and the pan behind his back hit the ground with a thud. he began stammering incoherent sounds, wiping his clammy hands against his gray sweatpants that perfectly displayed his hard-on.

you smile at his shy demeanor. "why don't you show me what you think about, baby?"

jeno inched towards you slowly, barely making full steps. once he was close enough to the edge of your bed, you pulled at the waistband of his sweats until the two of you were face-to-chest, nodding at him to sit down to which he obliged.

as you placed yourself in his lap to straddle him, you wrapped your arms around his neck and he struggled to find a place to set his sweaty hands, opting for one on your knee and one gripping the bedsheet. after making yourself comfortable and ruining his sweatpants with your wetness, you stared down at him only to be met with that same god-forsaken dumb puppy look. you grinned, then proceeded to grind down on his hard dick, watching his face shift from the wide-eyed puppy look to one of pleasure — eyes rolled back, biting his lip to stifle his moans, and eyebrows furrowed.

"is this what you think of, puppy?" you ask him in a sing-song voice. "is this what goes through your mind when you're touching that pretty dick of yours?"

the boy whined, nodding in response. "y-yes."

"that's too bad," you said with a soft giggle. "because i think of something much, much worse."

jeno let out his first unfiltered moan as you continued the grinding and dirty talk. his hand had been navigating upwards away from your knee and up your thigh, the other still gripping the stained bedsheet beneath him.

"i wanna know," he moaned out. "i want you to show me what you think about. please."

you halted your movements and jeno responded with a whimper. "you want me to show you what i think about doing to you, puppy?"

he nodded rapidly.

you removed yourself from his lap, taking yourself down to the floor on your knees without breaking eye contact. your next steps were so, blatantly obvious, but he still sat there with that clueless expression on his face, wide-eyed and cute and with all the feigned innocence in the world.

you pulled down his waistband enough to reveal his cock, the pink tip already leaking precum. you brought your mouth to his dick and you were immediately met with the most pornographic moans you'd ever heard in your life. his hand shifted to your hair, his fingers getting lost in the strands while the other still remained glued to the sheets.

you dragged your tongue along the length of his veiny cock, inducing shaky, moany breaths out of the boy. you wrapped your mouth around the head of his dick and sucked ever so lightly before taking as much of him as you possibly could down your throat. you bobbed your head up and down his dick as tears threatened to fall from jeno's eyes, him already feeling incredibly overwhelmed.

his hips stuttered and his dick hit the back of your throat, which he immediately followed with groans of apologies. you removed your mouth from his dick, eliciting a small whine before you began jerking him off with your hand.

"you about to come, puppy?" you asked teasingly. "or do you just wanna fuck me that bad?"

jeno stared down at you with his wide eyes and red face. he gulped, releasing a breathy sigh, and stuttered a soft "both," before thrusting up once again, this time into your hand.

you removed your hand from his dick and rose up from your knees. you guided jeno towards the head of your bed, pushing his back against the wall and removing his sweatpants and boxers in the process. you straddled him once again, barely gracing your wet pussy over his hard, yearning dick.

"tell me, puppy," you whispered into his ear. "how badly do you want me to fuck you?"

jeno let out a loud, drawn out whine before burying his face in your neck out of embarrassment.

"is my puppy embarrassed?" you asked, lacing your fingers in his white-blonde hair. you pulled lightly at his hair to reveal his face to you. "you need to answer me."

there it was. that dumbfounded look, but this time he looked so fucked out, so corrupted, and so god damn beautiful. he up stared at you with his glossy eyes, swallowing his pride, and mumbled out his response.

"i want you to fuck me so badly."

you tsked, pulling harder at his hair. "i can't hear you puppy."

he moaned, responding again with clearer and much more vulgar words. "please, please fuck me. i want you to ride me and call me your pretty little puppy; i want you to make me cry and scream and tell me how much of a good boy i am and i wan—fuck—i wanna cum inside you so bad, please. please fuck m-"

you cut his begging off with a kiss, his words getting lost in your mouth as you shifted to envelope his dick between the walls of your pussy. he moaned loudly into your mouth as you sunk further down his shaft, eyes rolling into the back of his head as he bottomed out.

“god, you feel so good, puppy,” you groaned out. “you’re so big. you fill me up so well. your dick made just for me, wasn’t it?”

jeno whimpered as he nodded, shifting his hands around until he settled with one gripping your upper thigh and one on your waist under your shirt. you slowly began to move, rising up and sinking down to find the best pace for your and jeno’s pleasure. jeno could barely keep his eyes open, his head writhing around as you fastened your pace exponentially before settling on a speed that had jeno releasing the loudest, raunchiest moans with his eyes squeezed shut and his head thrown back against your headboard.

you bounced mercilessly on his cock, balancing yourself by gripping his shoulders and digging your fingernails into his skin. both of his hands had found themselves resting on your ass, occasionally squeezing as you rode him. his dick reached every pleasure-inducing corner within you and filled you so well. you’d be lying if you said you weren’t struggling to stay sane.

you knew once one of his hands traveled from your ass to in between your folds to rub your clit that he was getting close, and now with the pressure against your clit you were edging close to orgasm, too.

“f-fuck, y/n,” jeno stuttered out. “i’m not gonna last much longer.”

you picked up your pace and grinded against his fingers, chasing your own high. “you don’t cum until i say so, puppy.”

jeno whined and began rubbing your clit almost violently, determined to get you off before he came. you felt the pleasure pooling in the pit of your stomach and your pussy tightening around his dick, signaling you were near orgasm.

“fuck,” you groan out. “need you to cum with me, puppy.”

jeno’s mouth was agape, unable to conjure words, so he responded with a soft nod as you tightened even more around his cock and rode him into oblivion. in seconds you released loud moans as you convulsed around his dick, and jeno ripped out one last groany whine as he released inside you, his cum dripping out of your pussy around his dick.

sticky sweat plagued your bodies as you both caught your breaths. jeno’s once wide-eyed look had been replaced with a drowsy, post-sex glow and his eyes drooped as he fought to stay awake.

“you did so good, puppy,” you said into his neck as you rested your head on his shoulder. “such a good boy for me.”

jeno responded with a hum.

“let’s rest just a second and then we can shower, okay?” you said.

jeno nodded. “that sounds good. oh, and y/n?”

“yes?”

“you have one active ass imagination.”

[n0hyuck]

wtf is wrong with them OMFGGGGGG

[n0hyuck]

(18+mdni)

ᯓ★ you love haechan's thighs

and he noticed it real quick, how could he not? the way your gaze instantly dropped the moment he walked in wearing those damn shorts. his thighs, plump and stupidly juicy, were just there, out in the open, and your eyes followed them like they had a gravitational pull. you tried to be subtle. really, you did. but he wasn’t stupid. especially not when your hand found its way to his leg under the table, caressing the skin like it was second nature now. sometimes slow, sometimes idle, sometimes with purpose, but always there.

he didn’t say anything at first, just kept smirking to himself every time your fingers twitched when he shifted, like you were trying so hard not to react. cute. but pointless. because he could feel it. see it. all of it. so when you both finally got home, all that pretending? gone. you weren’t even trying to be subtle anymore. you practically threw yourself at him, pulling him into a kiss the second the door shut, lips crashing into his like you’d been holding back for hours, because you had.

and he barely had time to react before you pushed him down onto the couch, straddling his lap like it was your throne, your hands in his hair, your mouth on his, desperate and demanding. it was cute. really cute. especially with the way you immediately tried to roll your hips against him, chasing the friction you so needed. he just chuckled lowly, holding you firmly in place, both hands gripping your hips, keeping you still.

"what's gotten into you today, hm?" he teased, biting your lower lip gently before pulling his head back, just enough to watch you chase his mouth in frustration. "nothing," you murmured, a little breathless, your voice muffled against his neck as you pressed soft kisses there. "just need you," you shifted your hips again, trying to grind down.

“yeah?” he nibbled gently at your ear. “you wanna ride my thigh, baby? is that what you need?” your soft moan in response was all the confirmation he needed—but of course, he needed to tease you just a little bit more.

his hand slid under your pants, fingertips finding the damp heat of your panties. “you’re dripping,” his voice filled with amusement, “all that for just a little of me?” the soft pressure of his fingers against your aching cunt made you tremble, a shiver running down your spine as your hips instinctively rolled down against his hand, seeking more.

"yes, yes, hyuck, only you, so please—" you whined, the sound shaky and desperate, one of his favorite versions of you: needy and willing to beg for him. he silenced you with a kiss, lips pressing against yours with a permissive smile as you clumsily worked your pants off, clearly too impatient to stop kissing him for even a second.

he leaned back and just watched you, eyes dark with hunger as your hands gripped his shoulders and you straddled his thigh like it was exactly where you belonged. you positioned yourself quickly, and the moment your soaked, bare pussy made contact with the firm muscle, you sucked your bottom lip between your teeth, already rolling your hips forward, slowly at first, but soon picking the pace. slick sounds followed immediately, and hyuck groaned softly, gripping your waist as you began grinding with more determination.

he didn’t really need to do anything, just sit back and let you use him. and god, did you. the way your forehead dropped onto his shoulder, your hands clutching him for support as you rocked yourself on his thigh, moaning his name like it was the only word you knew. the sound of your wetness smearing against his skin, the needy little gasps spilling from your lips—it was intoxicating.

and you must’ve really been craving it all night, because the next thing he knew, you were crying out his name in that soft, breathless voice he loved so much, trembling as you came on him. your chest rose and fell with each pant, and he could feel the warm, slick trail of your release dripping down his thigh.

“do you wanna ride the other one too?"

[n0hyuck]

No Pain, No Gain — ljn

pairing. gym-rat!jeno x aider!reader genre. fluff, (kinda)friends-to-lovers, a dash of hurt/comfort, slice-of-life wc. 4.3k summary. Jeno’s well aware that he looks like an idiot in front of you, but what else could he do when just the sight of you makes him feel like a kid with a schoolboy crush?; or in which, Jeno’s been coming to your office with the tiniest of scratches just so he has an excuse to see you warnings. mentions of minor injuries (fake & real) and some bleeding (nothing super detailed but it’s still there), I sorta wrote this as if it were like a sitcom, cliche scenario an. clearing my wips! yet another fic set in the most random place u can possibly think of and it’s bc I (unhealthily) romanticize everything (×-×)—I started writing this during my gym rat (mouse?) era in 2023 but never finished it til now oops dk if its any good,,, enjoy!!

“I can’t move my thumb.”

You use your finger to smooth down the sports tape over its first layer, gently grabbing the younger boy’s wrist to inspect your work, “That’s the point, Chenle.” 

“How am I supposed to play basketball with this,” Chenle pouts, bringing his taped thumb and wrist to show you as if you weren’t the one who just did it. His posture grows worse at the realization of his small injury and now he’s slumped on the bed. 

You sigh and repeat yourself, “That’s the point. You need to rest it or else you can get an injury worse than this. I recommend maybe a week? But I’m not a doctor.” 

You start cleaning your station up, fully expecting Chenle to understand and leave. But instead, he remains seated on the medical table, pouting. You know he’s trying to get you to change your mind, but seeing that he reported his wrist feeling tight and stiff, you know that it’s sprained and playing with it could make things worse.

“Chenle, I’m being serious,” you groan, “You need to rest it or you can’t play basketball for the rest of your life.” You were obviously exaggerating, raising your brows for even more emphasis. If he won’t listen to you by simply telling him, you might as well scare him into listening to you.

“Rest of my life?” He frowns, looking down at wrist, “I… I guess a week doesn’t seem too long… Thanks Y/N.” 

You smile, relieved that he’s choosing to listen to your advice, “I’ll see you next week then?” 

He nods and gathers his duffel bag and his sweater, dragging himself out the door of the first aid room. 

You turn away from the door, ready to busy yourself with some housekeeping items when you hear a knock at the door. It’s quiet, and you almost think that you were imagining the sound, but when you turn to face the door, you’re met with the vibrant gaze of Lee Jeno, accompanied by a sheepish smile. 

Ah… Lee  Jeno—of course.

“Almost thought you weren’t going to show up today,” you joke, “What happened now?” 

To anyone unfamiliar with the two of you, it might come across as if you weren't exactly doing your job well, seemingly rushing through treatments even when faced with potentially serious injuries. However, the guy standing in the doorway right now has been delivering the most poorest excuses for injuries you've ever heard.

Sure, perhaps a couple of questionable 'injuries' wouldn't bother you much, because maybe the person was just overly cautious about their well-being. But when Jeno strolled into your office recently with the tiniest scratch on his left calf, you couldn't help but suspect that something was definitely up. 

“I need ice,” Jeno side-steps into your office and pulls the corners of his lips higher on his cheeks, “Please?” 

“Next time, just jog over to the nearby McDonald’s and get ice there,” you say jokingly. This was his nth time in the past month asking for ice. You wonder if he’s just been using it to put into his water or if this dude just has some kink involving ice. 

You only question Jeno’s recent tendency to visit your office because, ever since you started working at the gym, he's been a regular. Hell, his physique alone is proof to his long-standing commitment to the gym. It just doesn't add up that Jeno, with his apparent gym ‘seniority’, would be falling victim to injuries so frequently.

“Here you go,” you hand him a small, transparent bag that was partially filled with ice, “Anything else?” 

Jeno’s irises fall to the right corners of his eyes in brief thought, “More… ice?”

You groan to conceal your amusement and move closer to Jeno, “Goodbye, Jeno. See you again another day!” You gently place your hands to his elbows, spinning him around and out your door.  

“No, wait I—“

“See you!” You wave, leaving Jeno no choice but to actually take his leave. 

Your coworker Jaemin sees the interaction from the front counter, and seeing that there weren’t any gym goers coming into the facility, he waves you over. 

"Everything alright?" he asks, his gaze flicking briefly from the computer screen to you.

You glance at his screen and notice a game of minesweeper unfolding. Suppressing a snicker, you retort, "Yeah, same reason as last week." Swiftly, you click on an empty tile on his minesweeper grid, revealing the mine locations.

“I’m trying to help you and you do this,” Jaemin clicks his tongue against his teeth and diverts back to the situation, “It’s not in a creepy way, is it?” 

You give yourself a moment to think everything through, “I’m not sensing anything weird or creepy with it, if I’m being honest. He’s going about it… in a cute way?” 

Jaemin lets out a hysteric laugh and it echoes throughout the gym, “A cute way?” 

"There's no other way to put it," you casually shrug. Leaning against the desk, you absentmindedly flip through the management binders laid out before you.

Jaemin's brows knit, his curiosity piqued. "Cute, how?"

“I don’t know.” You’re lying. You know damn well what you meant. 

Every time Jeno decides to pull one of his ‘stunts’, he’s at your door, eyes all glossy and resembling a hopeful puppy. And when you choose to pretend not to notice him, he doesn't hesitate to clear his throat (rather obnoxiously) or hum out a soft, "anyone home?" even though you're clearly rummaging in your cupboards for more supplies.

Jaemin reads right through your feigned innocence, eyes narrowing, “Sure you don’t.”

“Well, it’s not something I can explain,” you groan, “Just take my word for it.”

“Okay… cute… does that mean you’re enjoying all this?” Jaemin’s eyes wiggle your way and you’re glad that no one’s around to see or hear this. 

You scoff, “Enjoying what?” 

"Come on, Y/N. Let's not play naive," Jaemin smirks, "Jeno is practically inventing reasons to see you.” Jaemin pats your head like you would a child, which you dodge almost immediately, “Which is honestly disappointing. A guy like Jeno could probably think of something way better but he resorted to something so basic.” 

You glare at Jaemin, your annoyance evident, “I hate that you’re probably right.” Because what else could the reason be? Jeno couldn’t be that concerned for his well-being. And you distinctly recall questioning your other coworker, Xiaojun, about whether Jeno tends to show up frequently on your days off. His response? A shocking no.

“I always am,” Jaemin brushes non-existent dust off of his shoulder, “But you didn’t answer my question.”

“What question?” At times like these, you have the memory of a goldfish.

“If you were enjoying it,” Jaemin clarifies, "You did call it cute, and cute usually equals enjoyment."

There were a couple ways you could go about Jaemin’s question. Was he asking if you were reciprocating this attraction Jeno seemingly had for you? Or maybe he wanted to know if you found amusement in the ongoing situation?

Regardless, your cheeks betray you by warming at the question and the thought of your answer sliding off the tip of your tongue.

“I’d be lying if I said no.”

—

It’s no surprise when Jeno shows up to your office two days later with the same smile plastered on his face. 

He’s standing right outside of your office, waiting for you to welcome him in. When you do, he enters the room slowly, greeting you as he moves toward the medical bed situated at the far corner and away from the entrance. 

Jeno watches as you rake through a pile of disorganized supplies, “How are you?” You weren’t in search of anything specific, but you were trying to busy yourself now that Jeno was in the room with no clear purpose. 

“I'm all right," you reply casually, your voice calm. "You?” You quickly glance up at him and almost crumble to your knees. Today, Jeno is sporting a black muscle tee and grey sweatshorts, and though you've never really taken notice of his outfits before, you secretly (and shamefully) remind yourself to start doing so. 

“I’m okay,” Jeno hums, “I was wondering if I could get a heat pack?” 

You take a good look at him and narrow your eyes, “It doesn’t look like you need one.” But regardless, you make your way toward the heat packs sitting in a cupboard by the fridge. You simply wanted to hear what his reason was this time. 

“My quads are really stiff today,” Jeno replies, subtly gesturing to his legs, “I could barely get through leg day with them.” 

“Well, this should work,” you say. You pop the pack and wrap a towel around it, “There you go. See you!” 

“Can I stay here for a bit?” You don’t see the way Jeno pouts. You’re too busy making your way to your box full of miscellaneous things. He presses the pack against the upper side of his thigh, remaining seated on the bed, “I’ll leave when the heat pack is finished.” 

Jaemin’s voice echoes in your head, "Jeno is practically inventing reasons to see you.” And you can now see that it was painfully obvious. 

“Of course,” you say, “Take as long as you need.” 

You move on to organizing the supplies, trying your best not to mind the pair of eyes that were burning holes into the side of your head. 

“So…” Jeno starts, “How was your weekend?” 

“You don’t need to make small talk you know,” you say, pulling out three pairs of medical scissors, “You could take a nap or something.” With your back turned to him, you go to put the tools away, “I don’t mind.”

Jeno swings his legs in the air and slumps, “Yeah, but I—uh—do want to make small talk.” He’s half-assedly holding the heat pack to the side of his thigh, growing annoyed that it wasn’t staying in a specific place. He resorts to pinning it under his thigh. 

“Which I also don’t mind,” you say, biting back a smile, “My weekend was okay… stayed home and relaxed. Nothing super special. You?” 

You stop and turn to look at him, keeping your eyes trained on the man who was now leaning back against the wall. The position looks uncomfortable, yet Jeno appears to be content. 

“Similar to yours,” he replies, “Except Hyuck forced me to play a few games online with him. It was fun, actually! But don’t tell him that.” 

You let out a snort. You’re familiar with Donghyuck, recalling how he and Jeno had made a deal that if Jeno managed to bring him to the gym for a few workouts, then he had to play some of his PC games in return. 

“How’s he doing anyways?” You question, “I haven’t seen him in a while.” 

Jeno’s brows furrow for a sliver of a second before they sit back to where they had originally been, “Last leg day killed him, so he’s given up until he recovers.” 

“Ah,” you giggle, “Can’t keep up with you, I’m guessing?” 

Jeno shakes his head, bangs creating a blanket over his eyes. He sweeps them aside, “Not really. I don’t really go hard on leg days. I’m more of a back and biceps type of person.” 

Your eyes defy you as they scan Jeno’s arms. You blame him. His statement was practically an invitation to look at his upper limbs as if you needed some kind of evidence, “I believe you.” It comes out a lot more flirty than you intended and you want to sprint out of the room before you make one more wrong move. 

“O-oh,” Jeno stammers. It was a sight seeing Jeno grow shy, using his hands to hide arms. And although he was hoping to conceal them, the man forgets that doing so only means he had to flex his arms, “Thanks?” 

You’re not sure how to reply, resorting to rummaging through the same box. You find some empty rolls of tape and you toss them in the trash. How do you even go about this conversation? Say ‘you’re welcome’? Weird. Ask him about his routine? No, it wasn’t like you were looking into building your arms. Ask if you could feel his arms? 

Shut up, brain, be fucking for real right now.

“Y/N?” 

“Hm?” You look up and Jeno’s looking back at you expectedly.

“Sorry, I zoned out a little there,” you sheepishly confess, playing with one of the box’s flaps, “Did you say something?” 

“I… uh, nevermind, it doesn’t matter,” Jeno clears his throat, “It was just about—um—something. But it can wait another day.” He smiles and it just about reaches his eyes. 

“Wait, no, tell me,” you frown. 

“It’s…” Jeno’s eyes flicker back and forth, contemplating if he really should go through with his question. He wants to—he really does—but his words fail him, teeth biting at his bottom lip. 

“It’s really nothing, ha-ha!” You watch as his gaze drops to the heat pack suffocating underneath his thigh. He uses the back of his hand to feel it. It’s still very warm, but regardless, he uses it as an excuse. “I’ll just take my leave… Um, I guess I’ll see you around?” Jeno slips off the bed, tossing the pack into the trash before he moves past you. 

“Wait, Jeno…” You make another attempt to stop him, guilt slowly creeping up on you, curiosity accompanying it because you should’ve been listening. 

For once, you wished he stayed just a bit longer. 

—

It’s been almost a week and a half since Jeno last visited your office. 

But who’s counting?

You check once, twice, thrice over your shoulder for Jaemin’s presence, nodding to yourself when you’re sure that your coworker wasn’t there to see the down-bad bullshit you were about to pull. 

Pulling up the gym’s database, you quickly type Jeno’s name into the search bar. While it loads, which feels so so painfully long, your fingers tap against the edge of the desk. You can’t believe you’re doing this.

“Hm.” 

Once Jeno’s profile finally appears on the screen, you follow his row to the Date Last Active column, seeing that he was at the gym this morning, two hours before your shift. 

A low whistle knocks you out of your trance and you jump, almost knocking the keyboard off the desktop. 

“Fucking hell, Jaemin!” You swing at his shoulder at a strength you knew damn well he wouldn’t even feel, “You think you’re funny sneaking up on me like that?” 

“Yes,” Jaemin shrugs, “Misusing the database I see…” His eyes narrow at you, brow raising. Then, he smirks and pokes at your rib, “Stalking your boyfriend.”

“Shut up,” you quickly exit the application and pull up Jaemin’s minesweeper game, “He’s not my boyfriend… Acting like you don’t do the same shit with other gym goers…” 

“I don’t see why you can’t just walk up to him and talk to him,” Jaemin sighs, “He’s still here, you know.” 

“He is?” 

“Awww your eyes lit up!” Jaemin teases, diabolically sticking a finger in your face. 

You threaten him again, which Jaemin completely disregards out of spite.

“But tell me why he’s been coming to the gym more often when you’re not here,” Jaemin, like you, was quite familiar with Jeno’s routines, “Did you do something that would force the poor guy to change his routine all of a sudden? Sometimes he wakes up at ass o’clock to get his workout done.”

Your mind reels back to your last interaction. Playing back each and every second and overanalyzing each and every word that left your mouth that afternoon. Yeah, you probably did but you don’t want to think that you’ve scared Jeno away. 

“I don’t think so?” 

“‘I don’t think so?’” Jaemin mocks, “Writing ‘liar’ on your forehead would be more subtle than whatever the hell that was.” He pauses his game and decides to fix all his attention onto you, “Now spill.”

“I really don’t know, okay?” you groan, “Last time I spoke to him, I zoned out and I missed what he was saying and then he left and he didn’t even choose to repeat it or anything.” 

Jaemin narrows his eyes at you, almost as if he’s lost all hope in his very good friend and coworker, “Y/N, did you not just graduate with a master’s?” 

Your brows meet, “Huh? What do you mean?”

He mutters a dumbass under his breath, which completely flies past your head. “Nothing.” Jaemin smirks subtly, turning away to leave in hopes that you don’t ask any further questions.

“Where do you think you’re going?” 

Jaemin gets flashbacks to his mom, “Uhhhhhhh, there?” The man points to nowhere in particular before taking off. 

“Na Jaemin!” You call out. Your voice echoes through the gym and you groan, slumping against the desk before accepting defeat—because what did Jaemin mean? Was he calling you stupid or something?

Not even five minutes pass when you hear Jaemin’s voice boom over the speakers, “Y/N, you’re needed in your office. Y/N, you’re needed in your office.” 

You look over to Jaemin’s office and shoot him a look that could kill. And again, Jaemin ignores your threat, grinning menacingly before he waves cause he knows he’s pissing you off. You’ve never grown used to this man’s attitude, but it doesn’t mean you don’t adore it. 

Logging off the computer, you let out a huff and pad your way past the exercise machines and into your office. And from all that you were expecting, you sure as hell weren’t expecting to find a very worn out Jeno, the hem of his tank sprinkled in faint drops of blood. 

“Jeno?” You don’t even try to mask your worry, fast-walking straight to him before you guide (practically tugging) him to the medical bed, “What happened? Are you okay?” 

An annoying and almost spiteful grin shyly appears on Jeno’s lips before he turns his palms up for you to see. His hands were covered in blisters, some popped and others brand new. They looked extremely painful to even look at.

“Fuck,” you mutter, “Didn’t I say not to overwork yourself that one time?” You turn your back to Jeno and begin gathering all the supplies you need to treat his blisters. You’re rambling under your breath, words unrecognizable from where you’ve sat Jeno down. 

Your heart’s beating out of your chest, mostly because this is the first time you’ve seen Jeno in a while. But to add his injuries on top of that? You’re certainly not sure how you’re keeping composure. 

Meanwhile, Jeno really can’t do much but watch you move from one corner of the room to the other. He wants to get up and help, but by the way an eleven forms in between your brows, he’s reluctant to even say anything. 

It’s funny because despite how aggressive you’re handling all the supplies, the second you make contact with his wrist, your demeanor changes, suddenly shifting to be more gentler. You hold his hands as if you were holding a newborn, delicately rotating them to understand what had to be treated.

“If it hurts, tell me,” you say quietly, “Actually don’t. I’m mad at you right now.” 

Jeno’s head tilts to the side like a confused puppy. Then he finally says, “Mad at me?” 

“Yes,” you grab a sheet of gauze and begin wiping away at Jeno’s palm, dabbing carefully when it comes to the blisters, “I’m mad at you.”

“Why?” 

“This is why you need a break.” You ignore his question, grab new gauze and continue wiping away the new and old blood that’s accumulated in his palms. “Jeno, I know you like it here, but your body needs rest, too.” 

A response sits at the tip of Jeno’s tongue and he’s not sure whether or not he should tell you. The last time he decided to take a step out of his comfort zone, you didn’t even hear him. 

Does he want to try that again? 

You spray his palms with disinfectant before applying some ointment to help them heal faster. At this point, you hadn’t done as much as looked up to make eye contact with the man. 

“But..” Big step. “But this is the only place that I get to see you.”

What the fuck? 

You hope Jeno doesn’t notice the way you freeze for a burning second before you try to play it off by grabbing long bandages. It’s a good thing he can’t see the way your heart is beating erratically—and you’re hoping he doesn’t hear it, too. 

“You can literally see me wherever you want if you just asked,” you say nonchalantly, voice quiet, “But instead you resort to…” You stop yourself from speaking any further, unsure if you would even want Jeno knowing that you had suspicions of him pulling fake injuries out of his ass to make excuses to see you. 

“I’m not even sure if you’d even agree to it,” Jeno confesses, “I like… I really like talking to you but—“ 

“But what?” You slowly begin wrapping the bandage around his wrist, making your way up to his palm. 

Jeno can’t help but whisper, “You don’t seem to like me as much as I wished.” 

You hold back a giggle. Jeno’s always so accidentally cute and he doesn’t even know it. It’s literally pissing you off that a man you’re fake-mad at is doing absolutely nothing to earn your affection, yet here he was, doing just that. “You don’t know that.”

“I do know that,” Jeno counters. 

“No, you don’t,” you ping-pong back. The bandage crosses between his fingers and you manage to finish wrapping the bandage around his palm. 

“I do.”

“Did you ask me?” You gulp, because at this point you’re afraid where this conversation was going. 

“Well, do you like me?” 

You move onto his other hand, grabbing another roll of the long bandage. You could feel the atmosphere in the room begin to shift and now you’re beginning to sweat in your light sweater. 

“I do.” 

Jeno clears his throat, “In the way I like you?” You groan. Of course he’d say that. It was a valid follow up question, simply because your answer could very much cover that broad spectrum of like. 

You ask, “How do you like me?” 

Jeno takes a moment to think about his answer, watching as you start replicating your work from his other hand, “I honestly… think it’s obvious how I like you.” “Mmm,” you hum. At this point you’re teasing him on purpose, “How so?” 

“I make myself look like a fool when it comes to you,” Jeno huffs, “Ice? Heat packs? Who am I kidding…” Jeno scoots back in his seat and you follow, practically falling between his knees from the way he’s sitting. “Every time I come here looking for you, that’s when I gain the confidence to finally ask you out… well not always out but maybe for your number or just simply talk to you or something. I wanted to be friends and then more if it went well…” 

Your movements slow, attention failing to even do a decent job at bandaging. 

“But, when I finally reach this room and see you? It’s like I lose all that confidence and it’s stuffed in the bag with the ice you give me,” Jeno explains. “I’m even lucky enough that I can finish my sentences around you…”

You blink at his injured palm and the realization dawns on you. So this was what Jaemin was hinting at, “And that last time… you asked me out and—”

“And you didn’t hear me,” Jeno finishes, “And I couldn’t for the life of me repeat what I asked because my confidence plummeted and then the fear of rejection kicked in.” 

Your hands have since halted, cradling Jeno’s hand as you try to calculate your next move. It’s now clear as day that Jeno has feelings for you, and you’ve slowly been coming to terms with yourself that you care a little too much about Jeno than a normal person should. 

“Ask me now.”

“What?” Jeno practically jumps, startled and confused. 

You drop the bandage roll and lightly tighten your grip around his hand. Looking up, you find that Jeno’s gaze has already been sitting and waiting for your own to meet his. You clarify, “Ask me what you asked then, now. This time, I’m listening.”

The reassurance from you lifts some weight off of Jeno’s shoulders, ones he didn’t know even existed. Then, he fixes his composure, moistens his lips and finally says, “Would you–um–like to go out for dinner with me?”

“My answer then and now are the same,” you smile down at your feet, suddenly feeling shy under his gaze, “I would really love to.”

Eyebrows reaching for his hairline, Jeno’s eyes widened, “Wait, really?” 

“Really,” You nod. And although you try to look anywhere else in the room, Jeno’s eyes capture your eyes once again, holding them there for a few skips of your heartbeat. 

You clear your throat and let out a breathy laugh, “Haha so um… let me just—“ You hastily pick up the bandage roll and return to your work. 

It doesn’t take much longer before you finish, concealing and protecting his injuries under the bandages. “Now that you’ve got me, promise me you won’t overwork yourself like this?” 

“I’ve… got you?” Jeno’s cheeks heat up at your choice of words, the shift between the both of you being so evident now that he’s experiencing a weird case of whiplash. 

“Shut up,” you mumble, “Just promise me. I don’t wanna have to keep worrying about you getting hurt.” 

Jeno laughs, completely enamoured at your own flustered state. 

“Yeah, yeah… I promise.” 

[n0hyuck]

Freak — 이해찬.

skirt off, fuck in the backseat

“Fuck,” You whisper under your breath as you see a glimpse of your skirt flying to the other side of the car. You then hear a grunt from Haechan, his black leather jacket and plain shirt in the same color joining your skirt.

Neither of you knows when and how you ended up in this position. Though, you do know that it started when your eyes met his from across Jihoon’s house.

“Chew him up, dear,” Ningning cackles in your ear when she catches you and Haechan arguing whether you’ll do ‘beerpong’ or ‘truth or dare’.

And chew him up you did. Just in another way.

Haechan swoops the back of your head and pulls you in for a kiss once again, shoving his tongue in your mouth knowing well it’s welcomed and expected. His free hand travels down to your bare legs, squeezing the flesh of your thigh.

The car is hot and you’re dripping in sweat, yet it didn’t stop Haechan from wrapping his arms around you as he tugs you impossibly closer and licks the expanse of your shoulder to your neck. He hums in satisfaction.

You push him by the shoulders and tangle your fingers in his hair. “You’re such a freak,”

He scoffs and sports a cocky smirk. Haechan lifts you on his lap before dropping your weight down, effectively slipping his length fully deep in to your pussy. Gasping harshly, your hands scramble to find leverage on the same shoulders you pushed a moment ago.

“Cat got your tongue?” Haechan slips out his cock just before the tip and roughly thrusts it back in, punching out a whimper bordering the lines of a yelp out of you.

“Shut—“ You pull away and lean on the passenger seat’s backrest. Your hand then makes its way to cover Haechan’s mouth. “Up,”

Despite only having the upper part of his face visible, you could still see the way his eyes gleam with slyness. Just like that, annoyance bubbles inside you once again.

“You’re so fucking annoying,” You mutter irritably as your grip goes from hovering over his lips to his throat.

Instead of bouncing, your hips swirl around his hard length. You lean forward just enough to look him straight in his eyes and watch as it rolls to the back of his head, his mouth falls open as he basks in pleasure.

Haechan swears the combination of our warm walls tightening continuously with your hand choking him just how he likes it will be the death of him.

Dying in the hands of the most insufferable and annoyingly attractive person he had ever seen is something he never planned, but was nevertheless finally accepted.

“Ah shit,” It’s a whimper that escapes Haechan’s lips.

“Close?” You stop your movements and ask tauntingly.

He thrusts his hips upwards, as if frustrated. “Move,”

A brow raises due to his order. Your grip closes on his throat a little tighter.

Irritated, he looks you in the eye in an attempt to challenge your power over him. To his dismay, Haechan melts underneath you as you slip out of his cock. His prior firmness turns into a mush.

He grunts and tries to resume his thrusts. “I swear to— I’m close,”

“Yeah?” You let out a laugh.

“Yeah,”

“And what does that have to do with me?”

Haechan calls out your name. “Make me come,”

“Make you come?”

He gulps, determined not to back down. And yet once squeeze and a raise of his brow, he lets out an exhale.

“Please,” Haechan finally says. “Please, make me come.”

Satisfied, a smile stretches in the corner of your lips as you place a kiss on his forehead and lips.

[n0hyuck]

AT THE SAME DAMN TIME‼️‼️

[n0hyuck]

[n0hyuck]

“STUPID CUPID”

pairing: na jaemin x art major! reader | genre: rom-com | words: 24k

synopsis -> mr. cupid — anonymous radio host. running the #1 most popular radio show on campus. famous for his thoughtful advice and classified as a true hopeless romantic. na jaemin — photography major, the sweet fuck-boy. described to be affectionate and gentle…but don’t fall for his tactics! once he’s done with you, he’s gone with the wind. your best friend unfortunately happened to be on the receiving end of this. what happens when you find out that the anonymous radio host is none other than na jaemin himself? sweet revenge.

warnings -> tooth rotting cheesiness you’ll roll your eyes, a hundred different synonyms for a gentle smile, pet name unlocked: angel, lots of stolen kisses, there’s only one bed, reader and jaemin are stupid and selfish sometimes, a tiny bit of angst, a hole in the wall, +18, crude language, fuck-boys, mentions of drugs, alcohol, make outs, one night stands, more than one boner, smut! oral-m/f receiving, fingering, slight nipple play, blowjob, handjob, sex, a brief conversation with his cock, jaemin is whiny and vocal and big, masturbation, public sex if u squint.

an -> the first installment of the loverboy series is finally yours. i hope you love (and hate) it as much as i do. i had so many moments in the three months i’ve had with this work where i almost scrapped this as i couldn’t figure out how to progress the story without it being so cheesy. i wanted something grand, something never been done before! but (fortunately) with rom-com, and the amount of lovely fiction out there, everything has been done before. so i succumbed to the inevitable cheesiness and made something i was happy with. hope you enjoy! with love, c.

dear, mr. cupid,

my best friend slept with her crush! problem is, he’s a total fuckboy and doesn’t even remember her. he walks around pretending he doesn’t know her. what can i do to get back at him?

love,

heart

mr. cupid reads the anonymous confession of the day, ready to give his think piece.

“hi heart, hmm,” he pauses, seeming to be in deep thought, “first of all, i think you should be there for your friend. let her know that no man, especially a fuckboy, is worth any of her precious time. as for the guy, let him have a taste of his own medicine, he deserves it. no man should ever treat a woman like that,” he sweetly advises through the radio, making you scoff in disgust.

his fake persona was sickening considering you couldn't even count the number of girls he has been with in both of your hands in just a span of one year.

taste of his own medicine, huh?

two days later, you got all dolled up, looking exactly like the girls you know are his type – all pretty in pink, a cute skirt around your waist, pretty bow adorned on your hair, paired with heels that made your legs look longer.

you couldn’t even recognize yourself when you looked in the mirror. gone were the oversized t-shirts and sweats that usually hugged your body. you were going to make him notice you, one way or another.

it was all part of the plan – it’s simple, really! the entirety fitting in a page in your notebook, titled the downfall of na jaemin:

step one - introduce yourself.

step two - make him fall in love with you.

step three/four - break his heart and reveal to the whole world (university) that their beloved mr. cupid is a phony.

see, easy!

hence, we begin.

you’ve mapped out the trail he took after his first period. and like the mastermind you are, you were right where you needed to be at the right time. walking hurriedly past him and “accidentally” bumping into him, the books and papers in your hand flying out of your grasp, an exaggerated gasp slipping past your lips.

jaemin, quick to his feet, was already on the ground, picking up your fallen items, “sorry about that,” he apologizes.

“no it's okay, i wasn’t looking where i was going, sorry,” your sweet voice captures his attention as he finally gets a good look at you. a devilishly sweet smile growing on his features, eyebrows ever so slightly raising in a way that if you weren’t so observant, you wouldn’t have noticed.

“just be careful next time, beautiful,” he flirts, handing you back your things, the smile on his face never leaving. you fight back the urge to roll your eyes.

“thanks handsome, i’ll see you around?,” matching his energy, voice going softer, eyes flirtatiously but calculatively drooping, as you grab your books out of his hands, making sure your fingertips touch, just a little bit, before turning away and quickly walking the opposite direction.

the boy quickly called out to you, “hey!, what's your name?!”

leaning over your shoulder, plastering on the sweetest smile you can give him, you waved away like you were some kind of princess – classic romantic first meetings.

he watches your retreating figure, a small smile visible on his features. he has half the mind to follow you until the sound of his phone buzzing snaps him out of his daze.

mark: where are u? need help setting up

jaemin: omw

𓏲𝄢

“did we get new students?,” was the first thing that jaemin asked when he entered the room, his friends quickly glancing at his direction before continuing their tasks – setting the house up for the fraternity’s highly anticipated valentines day party that was two days away. it was really the only party (besides halloween, christmas and new year) that they prepared for. all the other ones, didn’t require this much work.

“not that i know of?,” mark — leader of the dream fraternity, music major, the favorite fuckboy. unlike jaemin, he doesn’t hide under sweet pretenses. he tells you what he wants from the beginning, never leaving you doubting his actions. whether or not you continue, is up to you. so you can’t exactly blame him when he breaks your heart in the end.

“huh..,” he ponders.

“why?,” his leader ask, curiosity piqued.

“saw the prettiest girl today, never seen her before,” he says nonchalantly.

“maybe she was just passing by?,” haechan — member of the dream fraternity, theatre major, the most popular fuckboy. girls love him. boys love him. he’s funny and charming but also very straightforward. you won’t catch him in a single lie because he doesn’t tell any, even if that means ruthlessly hurting people’s feelings.

“can’t be, her books were from our library,” jaemin reasons, remembering the ‘step by step: how to art?’ book that he picked up from the ground stamped with the university’s seal. maybe you were an art major?

“what does she look like?, i can ask around,” jeno — member of the dream fraternity, architect major, the chill fuckboy. doesn’t really like the whole hopping from one girl to another so he ends up in a bunch of meaningless situationships. his current one has been going on strong – a good new record of four days.

“exactly my type, long hair, soft skin, pretty smile, dressed in the cutest outfit,” jaemin sighs hopelessly, like he was just shot with the lust arrow.

“uh oh there you go again, falling for nameless girls,” chenle smirks, throwing him the streamers he was assigned to put up.

chenle — member of the dream fraternity, business major, the lowkey fuckboy. doesn’t get around as much as the rest but also doesn’t do relationships either and he makes that very clear. no use of pet names, or flowers, or chocolates or anything romantic.

“actually, she was holding an art book. renjun, have you seen anyone today wearing a pink top with a white skirt, a pretty white bow on her pretty head?”

renjun — member of the dream fraternity, art major, the fuckboy by association. only got labeled a player due to his friends. doesn’t actually care too much for romantic relationships, but he will have one night stands here and there, he still has a working dick after all. #1 person to call out the boys if they over step a line but will also fight a girl for his friends.

“didn’t go to class today, too busy setting up,” he shrugs, “leave the poor girl alone jaemin, we don’t need a repeat of last time,” he adds sternly.

“hey!, that one was not my fault, that girl was crazy,” jaemin reasons out earning a snort from jisung.

“yeah, hyung, crazy because she told you she loved you and you said it back then proceeded to avoid her,” jisung — member of the dream fraternity. dance major, the fuckboy in the making. he was in a relationship, once. the girl cheated on him so now he’s decided that love’s not real and is taking fuckboy 101 classes from mark and haechan.

“who tells you they love you while your balls deep in!?,” jaemin practically shouts, “my dick was my brain, okay!, besides who even says i love you to a guy you’ve only been talking to for a week, not to mention we barely talked!,” jaemin quickly defends himself for the umpteenth time.

“yeah, yeah we’ve heard it all before and well…that’s what you get for being sooo sweet,” haechan points out, laughing at his friend.

“that’s why next time you don’t put so much effort in,” chenle adds, joining in on the laughter.

“yeah dude, or maybe next time just tell them you just want sex? it works for me all the time i never have anyone crazy coming in like that,” mark teases, the entire group laughing as they recall the situation.

“well damn! god forbid i actually throw in a little bit of romance before i fuck their brains out,” jaemin sighs.

he can’t help it, he was a romantic at heart.

“fuck your brain out you mean?,” jeno snorts, causing jaemin to chase him around the house, fist ready for a punch.

“be careful! if you break any of the decorations i am not helping!,” renjun yells after them, the rest of the group breaking out into a chaos of laughter.

𓏲𝄢

dear mr. cupid,

i accidentally ran into someone today…my books flew everywhere! i swear some even landed on his feet but he was so kind about it, picking it up for me and calling me beautiful and now i can’t stop thinking about his sweet smile. problem is i don’t even know his name, what should i do?

love,

angel

jaemin’s jaw drops, this has to be his mystery girl…right? how many people go bumping around others and dropping their books?

he found himself liking the fact that his identity was unknown. to you he was just the kind boy who helped you out and not one of the school’s residential fuckboy. he thinks this is somehow a work of fate and was sure he had to thank divine interventions for landing you straight into his lap.

clearing his throat, he starts with his advice, “interesting, what should you do, angel?,” he clicks his tongue, “i think you should go to the place you saw him at, maybe he’ll be there again? who knows, he could have felt the same thing…i guarantee you if he did, he’ll walk up to you and say hi…men are simple creatures, after all. if they like you they’ll do something if not, well, you deserve a better man, angel…”

angel — a pretty name for a pretty girl, jaemin thought.

“and of course to all you lovely ladies out there, advice of the day from your favorite cupid is: never accept anything less than the best…goodnight lovelies,” ending the session for the night.

“angel, angel, angel,” the name glides off his tongue. did he just use mr. cupid to get to you? of course he did, but you didn’t have to know that.

just like how he didn’t have to know that everything was falling into place, exactly the way you planned it.

like clockwork, you end up meeting him at the exact same place at the exact same time, your books safely secured in your bag — it was time to put things in motion.

jaemin spots you first, walking up to you this time, “hi angel,” you turn towards the sound of his voice, taking in his appearance, noticing the camera that hung around his neck.

“y-you listen to mr. cupid?,” you ask, playing dumb, of course he listens to mr. cupid. he is mr. cupid. you just didn’t expect him to bring the persona up at all.

“who doesn’t? it’s the number one radio show on campus,” he smirks, “and thank god i do or else i would’ve never known you were looking for me,” he shoots you a wink and it makes sense to you now how he’s never gotten caught. it’s because he doesn’t hide the fact that he “listens” to mr. cupid. he talks about mr. cupid like he was just a casual listener.

too bad for him, you saw him sneak out of the studio late that one evening, catching sight of the mr. cupid neon sign before the door shut.

you let out a playful laugh, “of course, i guess we have mr. cupid to thank…so what’s your name, handsome?,”

“you truly don’t know?,” it takes every ounce of you not to scoff.

“should i?,” you ask innocently, completely opposite from the rage you were feeling inside.

“of course not,” he shakes his head, “jaemin,” he introduces himself, hand reaching out for a handshake. you give him a soft smile before slipping your hand in his, “nice to meet you jaemin, i’m y/n.”

“not angel?”

“you didn’t think i’d actually tell mr. cupid my real name did you? it would be so embarrassing for me,” you explain and jaemin just shakes his head lovingly.

“do you want to get coffee?,” you ask, making jaemin’s smile grow wider.

𓏲𝄢

dear mr. cupid,

how do I get a fuckboy to fall in love with me?

love,

heart

“it doesn’t matter if he’s a fuckboy or not, to get anyone to fall in love with you, you have to dig deep, find out what they like and get to know them beyond surface level.” - mr. cupid.

the air in the coffee shop was buzzing with the faint hum of quiet conversations and light tunes playing from the cafe’s speakers. you sat across from him, sun rays from the window illuminating his sharp features. na jaemin, the playboy who had stolen hearts without a second thought, was now sitting before you, completely unaware of your secret identity.

“tell me about yourself,” you say as soon as the two of you got comfortable.

“well, i'm a photography major, part of the dream fraternity,” he gives the basic answer, not giving you anything else.

“girlfriend?,” you ask, eyebrows raising up as you took a sip of your drink.

“wouldn’t be sitting here with you if i had one, angel,” he responds smoothly, the use of the nickname he has insisted on continuing to call you rolls off his tongue, making you want to gag every time you hear it. perhaps you should have just given your real name.

instead you force yourself to blush, breaking eye contact like it was all too much, smiling down at your hands.

he finds it adorable of course. from his perspective, he had you right in the palm of his hands, all he had to do was catch you.

“you said you were a photography major…can i see your photos?,” you point to his camera, an innocent look displayed on your face, catching jaemin slightly off guard.

no girl has ever asked to see his work, always only curious about his reputation and seeing him as a challenge – maybe this was your ploy, pretending to care about him just so he would sleep with you.

he almost wants to tell you that you didn’t have to go through all that effort. just say the word and he’ll be in between your legs in a second but this is amusing and he’ll let it drag on for as long as you want.

“hmm, maybe later angel, how about you tell me about yourself first?,” his shit-eating grin appeared as fast as it disappeared and you knew that you wouldn’t be able to crack him so easily. you were prepared for that. in the three years you’ve heard about this boy, you have never heard of him being in love. you knew this would be hard. you had to break down your walls first if you ever wanted to see through his.

“okay, i'm an art major with a focus on painting, my favorite color is pink and i love iced americanos,” you point down to your matching drinks, letting out a soft giggle.

“hey, we’re pretty similar,” you hear the smile in his voice. of course, you calculatively said things you knew he also liked, things he’s mentioned in his show, you were an avid listener after all…before you knew it was him.

“what is it about painting that draws you in?,” he continues.

then it clicks for you — this was his own test wasn’t it?

he was using his own advice against you. he was digging deeper. his own personal trick to get you to fall for him. you give him exactly what he’s looking for.

“i guess i just love watching simple colors and lines all come together to create something beautiful…the way it can be interpreted in so many ways by different people, you know?,” you take a quick pause, making sure he was still listening to you. he nods encouraging you to go on, “the way it can carry emotions, i can look at it one day and feel happiness and then another day i could look at the same painting and feel sadness,” you continue, letting your heart talk for you. the passion you had for art clearly on display.

“tell me more, angel,” jaemin looks at you with a soft glow in his eyes like he's really taking in everything you’re saying and storing it somewhere safe. maybe it was because of how the sun rays hit his eyes? maybe it was genuine curiosity? or maybe he’s just mastered the act of pretending to care? you wouldn’t know. but you do know that it was easy to get lost in his gaze and it makes sense how he has succeeded in making everyone fall for him.

“hmm, i like how you can find a story within each painting if you look deep enough and i love the way that story changes depending on who’s looking,” you finish.

he smiles, a gentle smile — this one different from the grins that you were used to seeing and you knew you hit the spot.

“you know something, y/n? i think you and i are a lot alike,” he starts, “except for me, my photos are my painting,” he reveals a little but not too much, hushed voice, leaning towards you as it it was a secret. maybe it was? maybe it was something he’s never shared to anyone but you? again, you wouldn’t know.

you watch him reach for the camera sitting quietly on his side of the table, and before you could process what was happening the shutter of the flash has blinded you.

“w-why did you take a picture of me?,” you asked in quiet shock.

“i like this story, i think i want to keep it forever,” he casually admits, making your heart skip a beat. he was good and you realize now how tough this could be as you sat there thinking, was it this easy to fall for someone’s words before?

“what do you say angel, you want to go to a party with me tomorrow night?," and just like that, the grin was back on his face, snapping you out of your trance.

the NCTU valentines party – you’ve always heard about it being one of the best parties on campus, whether you’re single and ready to mingle or taken and want to party with your significant other, everyone goes to have a great time: sex, free alcohol, drugs and good music. how could anyone pass it up?

“i would love to,” you reply sweetly.

you needed to get into his room.

after all, you had no physical proof that he was mr. cupid.

𓏲𝄢

“i need to borrow a dress,” you rummage through your best friend’s wardrobe, looking for something pretty and pink.

“for what?,” giselle’s attention snaps toward you, her curiosity at its peak. she doesn’t even remember the last time you wore a dress.

“umm for a party,” you mumble, “excuse me?,” she walks over to you, not entirely sure if she heard correctly, “did you say party? you’re going to a party?!” she practically shouts, excitement bubbling through her.

“calm down, it’s not that big of a deal,” you sigh, still looking through her closet.

“uhm, yes it is! i’ve been trying to get you to a party since freshman year and you always turn me down,” she pouts, “in your own words, ‘parties are sooo lame, i have much better things to do,’” she playfully mocks, earning an eye roll from you.

“i don't sound like that,” you snarked, eyes narrowing at her.

“yes…you do,” she says, pushing you out of her closet and pulling out a pretty pink dress you’ve never seen before, exactly in your size. it was the perfect dress for the perfect girl you were currently playing.

giselle hands it to you with a smile on her face, “here, i bought it for you just in case this day ever happened,” making you chuckle, “i can’t believe you, thank you,” taking the dress out of her hands.

“whose party are you going to anyway?,” she asks.

“uhmm,” you take a second to think about whether or not you should lie but giselle knows you more than anyone else, she’ll see right through your words, so you decide to come clean, “theNCTUvalentinesparty,” you mumble and giselle’s jaw drops in shock, “the wildest party of the year for a party virgin…are you sure about that?,” she asks, voice laced with concern.

“don’t worry, i’m not gonna drink or anything,” you shrug and you see the way her mind works, piecing it all together.

“who are you going with?,” she inquired, afraid that she already knew the answer to the question.

“doesn’t matter,” you gulped, looking everywhere but your best friend.

“oh my god!,” she gasped, “don’t tell me you’re going with na jaemin?!”

“ok, i won't tell you i'm going with na jaemin,” you joked, trying to keep the energy light but you see the way her smile has disappeared into a thin line, eyebrows slightly furrowing.

“y/n-, i told you…you don’t have to do anything,” she breathes out, almost angry.

“giselle, you lost your virginity to him! and then he pretends you don’t exist?!,” you point out, reminding her of his faulty actions and how much he deserves what’s coming to him.

“so what!?, i probably would have lost my virginity to another jerk if not him, at least he gave me a good time,” you actually can’t believe she’s defending him right now, a frustrated expression appearing on your face.

“are you kidding me?! you cried over him for a week!,” you cursed, remembering the time you had to pick up the mess jaemin made.

“yes because i lost my virginity to a fuckboy!…not because that fuckboy was him, it could've been any one of them and i still would have cried,” she explains, “...but i'm over it!, i’ve been over it!,” she yells, arms flinging around, “besides virginity is a social construct anyways i feel much better without that word hanging over my head and since he’s slept with me i’ve had soooo many guys in my dms—,” she reasons out, rambling, almost losing focus until she caught herself.

“—so please y/n,” she snaps her attention back to you, holding your hands “—don’t waste your time on na jaemin and just…enjoy a good fucking party,” she practically begged.

“no,” you reply sternly, letting go of her hands “he needs to know how it feels like to get his heart broken. if not for you then i'm doing this for all the other girls who have cried over him,”

giselle sighs, your stubbornness was always a problem and she knew well enough that once you’ve set your mind on something, nothing can change it, “whatever y/n, don’t come crying to me when this blows up in your face, he isn’t as dumb as you think,” she walks out, leaving you to wallow in your thoughts alone.

𓏲𝄢

dear mr. cupid,

i’m going to my first party ever! how can i make sure i catch the attention of the person i like?

love,

heart

“be safe. don’t let anyone take advantage of you. and for the person you like? confidence is key. wear your head high, flash on your beautiful smile and always be one step ahead.” - mr. cupid.

loud music, red solo cups, couples sticking their tongue down each other's throat, a guy wearing a diaper holding a toy bow and arrow drunk in the front lawn and it’s only 9pm.

this is the infamous valentines day party?

you wanted nothing more than to turn around and go back to the safety of your dorm room, hide under the blankets and binge watch cheesy rom-com movies until the sun comes up.

before you can psych yourself out, an unknown voice makes its way to your ears, “you must be, angel?,” the figure walks up to you, a smirk etched onto his face.

“and you are?,” you ask, already feeling a bit uncomfortable.

“haechan,” he introduces, hand going up for a handshake. he waits for yours but you never give it, only glancing at his hand with a slight look of disgust. quickly retracting it, the boy runs a hand through his long dark hair, laughing it off.

“he was right,” he comments, looking you up and down, “sorry?,” this is by far the most confusing conversation you’ve ever had. you’ve decided you hated parties.

“...long hair, soft skin, pretty smile and dressed in the cutest outfit, you are exactly his type,” he mumbles, sipping from his cup and taking a step towards you.

ahhh so he’s talked about you.

haechan’s figure towers over you and you’re now very aware that he’s an intoxicated man and you’re in nothing but a tight pink dress who forgot to bring some sort of self defense weapon. you hold onto your purse a little tighter, ready to swing if it comes down to it.

“back off, haechan,” jaemin’s deep voice echoes from behind you. his familiar presence brings you a sense of comfort. you’d take him over this random guy in front of you any day. though you’re not entirely sure it’s better.

“just introducing myself,” haechan smirks, raising his hands in mock surrender as the taller boy steps up beside you, “see you later, angel,” haechan bids his goodbye, walking back into the loud frat house.

“sorry about that, he gets a little too confident when he’s drunk but he’s never physically hurt anyone…just a whole lot of talk really,” jaemin snaps your attention back to him.

“physically?,” you question, head tilted.

“well, i can’t say the same for emotionally, he’s a heartbreaker you know?,” jaemin chuckles, taking a step closer to you.

“and you’re not?,” you look at him quizzically, smirk on your lips, challenging him.

“you look really beautiful, angel,” he ignores your question, choosing to lean in and compliment you instead, playful smile on his lips, “stick close to me tonight okay, you don’t want another heartbreaker getting near you,” he whispers, sending goosebumps throughout your skin.

jaemin watches you intently, “now, c’mon…let’s go inside,” he leads the way to the entrance with you following right behind him, head held high.

if you thought the outside was bad, the inside of the house was a whole different nightmare. the music booming filling up every corner of your mind, sweaty bodies bumping and grinding against each other, more lip locking, not entirely sure who’s paired up with who, everyone just kissing everyone, one side of the room chanting “shot, shot, shot,” the other side carrying someone on the keg stand. the air was thick with the stench of alcohol and a mix of different flavors of vape smoke, hitting you all at once. you were definitely out of your element, panic settling in the pit of your stomach.

jaemin quickly senses your discomfort, your feet frozen to the ground, wincing as you look around the room, taking it all in. he walks towards you, gently lacing his fingers around yours, “just stay close to me, okay, y/n?,” gone was the smirk that you swore was glued on to his face, eyes full of concern. you nod, tightening your grip around his hand before he led you deeper into the room and into the kitchen where there were less people.

“ahh, there they are, took you guys long enough, i thought you may have just led her right to your bedroo-oW,” haechan fumbles over after the guy next to him punched him in the stomach, “what the fuck, mark?,” he groans in pain, mark ignoring him.

“please ignore hyuck, he’s had too much to drink…i’m mark,” mark smiles at you, he seems normal enough. this time you accept the handshake, “im y/n,” you reply, shooting him a quick smile, “i thought his name was haechan?,” your eyes darted between the three boys, pointing at haechan who was still soothing his pained stomach.

“haechan when he’s flirting, donghyuck to his friends,” mark says, clearing it up for you.

“you don’t have to tell her that, we’re not friends,” the boy chimes in and you agree, “he’s right,” making him perk up, “on a second thought, maybe we can be friends,” he says cheerfully, “sorry about my behavior, y/n,” he drunkenly apologizes, pout on his lips and you’re confused at the sudden change in his behavior.

“praise him once and he’ll do anything for you,” jaemin explains, chuckling at his friend’s antics and handing you a cup, “drink?,” he asks.

you eye the red cup suspiciously, “it’s just coke and henny,” jaemin says, taking a sip out of the cup to let you know that it’s safe to drink. you appreciate the action, “thanks,” you say, taking the cup from his hold and taking a sip. the taste was absolutely repugnant and you try your best to not let it show on your face.

“oooh that’s basically a kiss,” renjun from your art class walks in, teasing, and your eyes almost bulge out of their sockets. there’s no way he’s here right now? renjun was so polite and proper, what the hell was he doing here?

you realized now that you actually had no idea what happens in your university. too absorbed in your own bubble to know who’s friends with who, “ooooh jaemin and y/n sitting on a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g,” haechan sings making the boy’s chuckle as you tried to hide your face behind the red solo cup.

jaemin shoots you a smile before getting dragged away by mark to the other side of the room, creating more mixed drinks for the party, leaving you with haechan and your fellow art classmate.

“hey, i’m renjun,” he walks up to you casually earning a slight nod from you, “you must be angel?,” he questions and all you do is nod, downing your drink, trying to ignore the burning in your throat, “okayy?,” he eyes you suspiciously and you’re afraid your cover has been blown until haechan grabs his hand, “don’t stare at my friend, it makes her uncomfortable,” he steps in and suddenly you’ve decided that haechan is your favorite.

“let’s go look for jisung, i still gotta teach him how to do that tongue thing,” haechan says, grabbing renjun and mark out of the room. you don’t even want to know what tongue thing they’re talking about, just grateful for the fact that renjun was finally gone.

“woahh, slow down angel,” jaemin makes his way back to you, taking the cup out of your hands, “what?,” you didn’t even realize you were still drinking it, too caught up in trying to not get caught.

“you finished it,” he says, almost proud, chuckling at your actions.

“oh…,” you sigh, looking at the empty cup. well, that’s not good. you’re not exactly a pro when it comes to alcohol and you can feel it catching up to you now, the heat in your face growing as a carefree laugh slipped from your lips, “i guess i did.”

jaemin finds you absolutely adorable, “let’s go dance, angel,” grabbing both of your hands and dragging you out of the kitchen, into the crowded living room, a strong hold around your waist, making sure you don’t trip amongst the crowd of people.

the music sounds so much better with the alcohol in your system. for a moment you let yourself enjoy it as you swayed to the beat, singing at the top of your lungs, jaemin right behind you, hands on your waist as your bodies were pushed closer and closer until there was no longer any space in between you.

maybe you understand parties now? you have never felt more free than you did now, all the worries and anxiety that came from school completely leaving your body. the only thing on your mind is the alcohol and jaemin’s warm hands electrifying your waist.

he turns you around in his embrace, coming face to face with his huge smile, “are you having fun!?,” he yells over the loud music.

the red heart shaped lights flashes around the room, illuminating his features, making him glow.

mr. cupid’s words ringing in your ear — be confident.

and so with the help of liquid courage, you wrap your hand around his neck, the smile on your lips never leaving as you made the first move, pulling him towards you, and catching him by surprise, “yes,” you whisper against his lips before finally connecting like they were magnets.

his lips were so soft against yours, jaemin quick to lead like this was a rehearsal he’s rehearsed a million times.

if you were to ask him, he knew you wouldn’t last long — this whole act of pretending to care about his photography. he’ll give you credit for being clever, for letting the romantic in him live for a couple of hours but at the end of night he is who he is. you want one thing from him and he wants one thing from you. he knows how this goes.

his hold on your waist tightened pulling you even closer, the growing bulge in his jeans felt hot against your thigh. one of his hands made its way to your cheeks, thumb softly grazing your cheekbone as he deepened the kiss, tongue swiping at your bottom lip for entrance. the taste of alcohol and spearmint lingers as your tongue meets – he was a good fucking kisser and so dangerously intoxicating. he lightly bites your bottom lip, slowly pulling away and making his way down your neck.

“what do you say, we take this up to my room, angel?,” he whispers, sucking the sensitive spot right below your ear, earning a light moan from you. the mention of his room reminds you of why you were here in the first place. that’s the location you needed to get to. you nod, giving him the go signal, the smirk back on his face as he led you up the stairs. you hear the hollers of the people around you. to them, you were going to be another name under his belt and you’ve never felt more sick to your stomach than now. to think, for a brief moment, you were actually having fun with him.

as soon as you entered the quiet of his room, the only sound that filled the air was the faint hum of music drifting from downstairs, helping you think a lot more clearer. jaemin’s lips were littering kisses down your neck, body trapped between his large figure and his bedroom door. this was enough.

“jaemin-,” you sigh, “yes, angel?,” he murmurs against your skin. you lightly push him away, “i-i don’t want to do this,” you mutter out, looking down at the floor, making sure you look embarrassed from your actions.

jaemin immediately stops, taking a step back and giving you space, “that’s okay, we don’t have to do anything,” you look up at him, expecting to see an annoyed expression at you wasting his time but all that greets you is a quiet shock on his face, a momentary confusion before his eyes turned upwards, kind and gentle. the same genuine smile you briefly saw at the cafe making an appearance and it surprises you.

“sorry,” you whispered softly.

“no need for apologies, y/n, you didn’t do anything wrong,” he says gently, grabbing your hand and leading you to sit on his bed. you take note of the way he calls you by your actual name when it matters.

“uhm can i get you anything?,” he asks you sweetly, a little awkward.

this entire situation has got you wondering if he was more like his fake persona in real life…but you can’t be blinded by his sweet actions. this is his tactic.

ladies and gentlemen — the sweet fuckboy.

“could you get me a glass of water?,” you ask and he quickly complied “of course, i’ll be right back, make yourself comfortable,” he smiles at you, still that same genuine smile and you almost believe it.

the sound of the door shutting has you on your feet in no time, ignoring the dizziness and blurred vision that came with the alcohol.

you quickly look around his room for any signs of mr. cupid, taking note of his bare walls — absolutely nothing that leads to him being the anonymous radio host.

making your way over to his dresser, you rummage through his drawers, shutting the first drawer as soon as you opened it, the space filled with packets and boxes of condoms and a bottle of lube. the next drawer you opened, to your luck, was his underwear drawer, you shut that one tight as well. you quickly look through each one, not finding a single thing, eyes quickly scanning the room, heart beating quicker as you feel yourself running out of time and then you see it…a box hidden at the bottom of his desk tucked all the way in the back…jackpot.

you open the box to pictures of him at the studio, the mr. cupid neon sign logo right behind him as he sits prettily behind the microphone. you find yourself laughing like a maniac, here it is! proof!

you can finally take him down.

quickly taking one of the pictures, you neatly tuck it in your purse before placing the box back where it belonged, running back to his bed to compose yourself, feeling like you just ran a half marathon.

𓏲𝄢

“that was quick,” jeno snickers as jaemin enters the kitchen, grabbing you a cold glass of water.

jaemin shakes his head at his friend’s comment, “we didn’t do anything, she actually told me to stop,” he explains leaving both of them dumbfounded.

“really?,” chenle inquired, a puzzled look on all of their faces.

“really,” jaemin confirmed, “i told you, she might be different,” he smiled a lovesick smile and they knew their friend was in trouble – he was letting his hopeless romantic side win once again.

“you’ve only known her two days, jaemin,” jeno reminds him, “how can you be so sure?,” he challenged.

“well, if she was like the rest, i would be inside her right now,” jaemin points out, earning a playful punch from the two boys.

jaemin was used to girls wanting him for one thing and one thing only – bragging rights.

it’s not a secret that he was known for only sleeping with the hottest, prettiest girls on campus. in turn, he has been a personal target for them, feeling justified and confident when jaemin gives them the time of the day and well, how could he pass up the offer?

they used him for reputation and he wasn’t a saint. he used them for easy sex. everyone wins. after a while he stopped trying to remember their names but the hopeless romantic in him lives on through his persona. he tries his best to add in a bit of romance but no girl could even fathom the idea of one of the fuck boys falling in love. no girl could even trust him to do so. only one girl told him she loved him but how could she? when all she knew about him was that he was incredibly good in bed.

so this, right now, the rejection he just received from you – it feels sweet on his tongue.

jaemin notices your disheveled appearance as he walks back in his room. you’re still sitting where he left you, sweat trickling down your forehead. he glances around his room, concern creeping into his voice, “you okay?”

were you okay? hell yeah, you felt fucking great you could hardly control the giddiness seeping out of you.

“i-uhm, don’t think the alcohol is settling in my stomach properly,” you lie. well, it was a half truth. the alcohol coursing through your system doesn't feel as great anymore and now that the adrenaline has worn off, an overwhelming wave of nausea hits, leaving you feeling sick to your stomach.

“c’mon, drink this,” he makes his way over to you. the cool water is refreshing, but it does little to ease the churning in your stomach.

jaemin grabs something on his desk before making his way behind you, gently brushing your hair out of your face, carefully tying it up into a ponytail. he was surprisingly really good at it and you can’t help but wonder how much practice he’s had.

he kneels before you, gentle eyes matching his kind smile, “not much of a party goer are you?,” earning a soft nod from you, “it’s my first party” you confess, earning a shocked expression from him, “i shouldn’t have given you that cup,” he sighs, grabbing one of his jackets and softly placing it around your shoulders.

“let’s get you home, angel,” he says sweetly, placing a soft kiss on your forehead before helping you up and leading you out of the fraternity.

𓏲𝄢

“you really don’t have to walk me all the way to my dorm,” you say again for the third time.

“i told you y/n, i’m not letting you walk home alone, you’re drunk—”

“i'm pretty sober now! i really am okay!,”

“—and it’s late, i don’t feel good about leaving any woman out here at this hour,” he insists, tightening the hold he had on your hand. with his caring nature, he reminds you more and more of mr. cupid.

it’s confusing. or maybe it was still the alcohol?

“well, here we are,” you point to the building of your dorm room, “thank you for walking me home, i'm sorry i crashed your party so early,” you apologize, taking note of the time, it was almost midnight.

“there will always be another party,” he shrugs, not at all caring about missing out on the fun, “thank you for showing up by the way, for letting me walk you home and–,” his hands finding that same spot around your waist, “happy valentine’s day, y/n,” eyes gazing into yours, voice barely a whisper, “can i kiss you goodnight, angel?”

instead of the usual teasing tone that accompanied the nickname, this time it was soft, calm, almost hypnotic.

he was so close, invading all your senses, and you couldn’t help but close your eyes, fingers clenching his shirt as you waited, heart racing…you’re definitely blaming this on the alcohol.

jaemin takes this sign as a yes and soon enough his lips were on yours in a slow, intimate kiss — different from the rush kisses you’ve shared earlier that night.

before it could get deeper, jaemin pulls away, leaving a soft kiss on your forehead, eyes fluttering open, “goodnight y/n,” he says, soft smile on his lips and your breath catches in your throat, unable to speak, “g-goodnight, jaemin,” you whisper.

he finally lets you go, but doesn’t leave until he’s sure you’re safely inside.

his lips still seem to linger on yours as you stood there, body pressed against the door, replaying everything that just happened.

𓏲𝄢

“STOP!-,” you point at the mirror, “what are you doing!…stop it now!,” you tell your reflection, who was looking back at you with a giddy smile.

“you’re still thinking about the kiss, i know you are!,” you talk to yourself and you swear maybe you’ve finally lost it.

“you can’t do this! this is part of his game plan and you have your own!,” you continue, arms flinging around like a crazy person.

“stick to the plan!,” you huff out, grabbing your laptop and shooting an email to mr. cupid.

dear mr. cupid,

i found that sweet guy i told you about. we spent valentine’s day together and i know this is cheesy but there were butterflies and all. i wanted to thank you for the helpful advice. please don’t read this out loud because i know he listens to this show and this is a bit embarrassing to say.

love,

angel

the next morning was a saturday and lucky for you, you had no saturday classes which meant you could go run to the safety of the art studio and paint to your heart’s content.

a way to debrief and just be yourself, shut your mind out from the rest of the world, even if it is just for a couple of hours. ditching the cute pink outfits, you settled for your go to paint splattered oversized t-shirts, matching your oversized sweatpants, hair in a messy bun, ready for the day.

as soon as you stepped outside, the sunlight blinding your eyes, a familiar voice hit you, halting you in your tracks, “good morning, angel!,” na jaemin stood before you, radiant as ever, eyes sparkling, smile beaming.

oh…why the hell did you bring him here last night?

now he knew exactly where you lived. now he knew exactly what you looked like. the real you, anyways. the alcohol truly was a horrible idea because him showing up here unannounced was something you didn’t plan for.

“what are you doing here?,” you say, almost harshly.

“i thought you would be hungover, so i brought you tea,” he says, walking over to you, finally taking note of the cup in his hand, “i promise you this is the only remedy you need to get rid of any headaches, proven and tested,” he smiles proudly.

you wait for him to say something about your appearance – a snide remark, a look of disgust, anything that shows his feeling of indifference but all you were met with were his eyes that for some stupid reason, can’t stop shining as he looks at you.

“thanks,” you say, grabbing the cup, “i’m busy right now though, so i’ll just take this and be on my way,” you finally shoot him a quick smile before turning around and briskly walking away.

“hold on, angel!,” jaemin yells out, quickly jogging up to you, making you curse under your breath. there’s no way you’re going to the art studio now.

“jaemin, i would really like to just have a me day,” you force out a smile before he could say anything else.

“of course,” he nods, completely understanding, “i-just, i-,” for the first time since you’ve met him, his confidence falters a bit, words getting lost in stutters.

“-is everything okay?,” worry laced in your voice. you can’t help it. this was abnormal behavior coming from him and you had a tendency to care too much.

he gives you a shy smile, “everything’s okay and i promise to leave you alone, i just need to ask for your help,” he finally says, you look at him quizzically, urging him to explain, “i have a project due at the end of the month, the theme is ‘recreating romantic cliche scenes,’ it’s exactly how it sounds…i was hoping you could be my partner,” he finishes, expectantly waiting for your answer.

“why me?,”

“there’s no one else i want to do this with but you, y/n,” he quietly confesses, cheeks turning pink, slightly embarrassed – different from he's usual flirting.

truth is, jaemin saw your confession in mr. cupid’s mailbox this morning. it was his final confirmation. you truly were different from the rest and he can’t help but feel those butterflies you were talking about.

you ignore the way your heart skipped a beat. it would be weird to say no, besides you have yet to accomplish step 2 - make him fall in love with you. so you answer with one word that captures jaemins attention, a smile of gratitude on his lips, “ok.”

as promised, jaemin left you alone for the rest of the day after asking for your phone number and an agreement to meet on monday which is when you would start. you agreed on one scene per day, a total of three scenes for his project.

you can’t expose him just yet and this project is the perfect way to stop finding excuses to meet up with him. it’s easier this way. the more time you spend with him, the more you can play the perfect girl.

the faster you can get na jaemin to fall in love with you.

𓏲𝄢

jaemin: hi angel, i'll meet you tomorrow at 7pm at the cafe at 127th street, wear something cute

the text message pops up on your phone on sunday night. you ignore the slight tingle in your stomach seeing his name on your phone.

the cafe at 127th street was a vintage coffee/bar, popular for its retro style and smoothies. you already know the kind of cliche scene he has prepared – sharing a smoothie.

y/n: can’t wait! see you there, jaemin <3

dear mr. cupid,

how can i tell if the guy i like, likes me back?

love,

heart

“if a guy likes you…you’ll know it, not a single doubt will cross your mind. you’ll see it through his actions, hear it in his words. he’ll share with you things he’s never shared with anyone else,” - mr. cupid.

the sound of 80’s love songs hit your ears as you entered the cafe. seeing as it’s a monday night, the space wasn’t filled and as loud as it usually is on weekends – most of it being taken up by retired senior citizens coming for a good time, away from the crowd of college students this place usually brought.

jaemin waves at you from the red booths, his angelic smile on his lips, the one you’ve grown accustomed to seeing. the smile that annoys you because of the feelings that were starting to appear every time you saw it.

you notice the camera has been set up to face the booth you will be sitting on, proper lighting placed around it to really illuminate the space, “hey, quick question,” you ask, greeting him. he gives you a quick side hug, before letting you ask your question, “since this is for your photography class, shouldn’t you be behind the camera?,” you wonder.

“well, photography is also all about the proper lighting and the editing which is the main focus for this project,” he answers your questions while clicking buttons on his fancy camera, eyes focused on the task at hand, “—and besides, if i have to take pictures of you acting these scenes out with someone else, i might crash out,” he winks at your direction, earning a playful eye roll from you.

“okay so what am i supposed to do,” you await his instructions, standing awkwardly.

“just wait a while, i’m still waiting on that chocolate smoothie,”

“ahhh so we are doing the ‘sharing a smoothie’ scene?,” you ask, eyes full of curiosity. he sends you a smile of confirmation, finishing his set up as you continue to watch him work. his eyes flickering around his camera, making sure everything is perfect. in a quick second, the flash of the camera blinds you.

“sorry angel, practice shot,” he smiles apologetically as you got up to see the photo he took. he moves to the side a bit, giving you room to see behind the lens. “oh my god, i look ridiculous,” you giggle at the expression you were making, a light shock on your face as you were staring not right at the camera but the figure behind it, “you look beautiful…as always,” jaemin whispers by your ear, a small smile starting to form on your face as you take note of all the colors and shadows the camera has picked up, “it looks really pretty,” you comment and jaemin observes the way you're taking every detail in.

you turn your face towards him, finally realizing how close he was to you. so close to the point you could remember the lingering feeling of his lips on yours. you could feel yourself leaning in when the waiter’s voice snaps you back to reality, the chocolate smoothie being served.

jaemin instructs you on what to do. sitting right across from him, the chocolate milkshake placed right in the middle of the table in between you, one straw for him, one straw for you.

“ready, angel?,” he asks you from across the booth, starting his countdown “…3, 2, 1…” as soon as he reached 1, you both leaned in, taking a sip out of your separate straws, eyes locked together, FLASH, you held your breath, making sure not to move, only focused on the warm brown eyes that seemed to look right into you.

after making sure the camera captured the moment perfectly, you finally break away, giggles erupting from both of you as you reach over to wipe the whipped cream that painted the corner of his lips, before getting up to check the picture.

“looks good to me,” you say, opposite to jaemin sighing next to you, “there’s a glare on the corner,” he comments, his attention to detail spot on as you looked a little closer and noticed exactly what he was referring to.

“let’s take it again,” he instructs, ordering another chocolate milkshake.

“jaemin, can’t we just drink from the same one?,”

“no, the whipped cream is already a mess,” he pouts and you respect it.

as an artist yourself, his attention to detail was admirable and you find yourself liking this serious side of him. how much time and effort he puts into it — completely opposite from the way he treated his relationships. this was a side of him you’ve never heard of, a side of him that you wished to know.

the waiter comes back again, serving a new set of chocolate milkshake, snapping you out of your thoughts as you make your way back into the booth, ready to pose for the camera.

this time the picture turned out perfectly. you can tell by the way jaemin's eyes lit up like a child on christmas day, the way his smile grew on his face before turning to you and nodding his head in approval.

you find yourself getting lost in him. he was so beautiful like this — indulged in his work, an innocent glow radiating off of him, “come, take a look,” he invites.

immediately, you could see the difference. you’re not sure what he did, which buttons he pressed to make this picture turn out like this but it looked straight out of a movie scene and he hasn’t even edited it.

the two of you spent the rest of the night finishing the two chocolate milkshakes, listening to whatever song people chose to play on the coin jukebox. at one point, jaemin even got you dancing with him, joining the crowd of elderly’s on the dance floor. he shows off his silly dance moves, like he was one of the grandpa’s in the cafe.

“you’ve got a charming young man, my husband was exactly like that when we first met,” a lady whispered in your ear, a blush appearing on your cheeks at her comment.

“he’s not really my man,” you confess to her, smiling sheepishly.

“oh but he will be sweetheart, no one will act that foolish if they weren’t interested,” she points out, directing your attention back to jaemin, who was already looking right at you before joining the grandpa’s dance battle, making sure you were watching every move he made — making you laugh like you’ve never laughed before.

the night ended with him walking you to your dorms, a soft kiss placed on your lips before the two of you bid your goodnights. you swore your cheeks hurt from smiling too much.

and what’s worse? you couldn’t blame this on the alcohol. you walked up to your room with a heavy heart. the weight on your shoulders getting heavier as you remembered this was all part of the plan and there was no way you were going to lose to his charms.

𓏲𝄢

dear mr. cupid,

i like his serious side. i hope he’s serious with me too.

love,

angel

the next day, jaemin tells you to meet them at their frat house for the next scene. you hoped to god, renjun wasn’t there. you’re not entirely sure how you were going to hide from him this time around. but just to make sure he doesn’t recognize you, you amp up the makeup a tiny bit more, completely opposite from the minimal to none makeup you usually go for during classes.

you rang the doorbell once before coming face to face with none other than renjun himself – of fucking course, just your luck.

“hey, it’s you,” he greets you and suddenly you’re frozen in place, does he know?

“you’re not much of a talker are you?,” he asks, eyeing you up and down, “uhmm-,” you try to find your words but not a single sentence escapes your lips, your heart beating rapidly in your chest.

renjun sighs, definitely weirded out, “he’s upstairs,” he says before stepping aside and letting you in, it takes you a second or two to find your steps, walking into the house. it was much bigger now that no one was around and surprisingly, it was clean, like it wasn’t filled with boys 24/7.

“-it’s so clean,” you weren’t aware you said it out loud until renjun’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts.

“ahhh and she does talk,” renjun grins,” jaemin’s a clean freak so we have to keep this space clean or he starts nagging,” he explains and you nod in response. that was definitely a fun fact.

“anyways, just go up the stairs, i think you already know where his room is,” he smirks, before walking away and leaving you to it.

as soon as he was gone, you felt like you could finally breathe. he didn’t know it’s you. shaking your worries away, you make your way up the stairs, knocking against the door you remembered.

“come in,” you hear jaemin’s voice from the other side before turning the knob and entering his room. it looked exactly like the night of the party.

he immediately lights up as soon as you enter, attention focused on you, as he greeted you with a kiss. it was starting to get ridiculous how much your heart skips a beat every time his lips touched yours.

you weren’t really expecting to be kissing him this much to begin with but that doesn’t stop you from kissing back, your lipstick staining his lips, “sorry,” you giggled as you gently wiped it off of him.

“that’s okay, pink is my color anyways,” he says before stealing another quick peck. at this rate, you’re not entirely sure who was making who fall in love anymore.

“okayyy,” you push him back playfully, chuckling, “what scene are we doing today?,” making jaemin wiggle his eyebrows as he made his way to his closet, pulling out a vintage boombox.

“where the hell did you get that?,” you ask, inspecting the old device.

“i have my ways,” he winks, “so…you ready to win me back?,” he smirks and your jaw drops, “i have to be the one holding it?,” you ask, flabbergasted. boomboxes aren’t exactly the lightest objects in the world and you barely had any arm strength. for god’s sake you were a painter, your hands were as gentle as a feather.

“you’re my muse angel, you gotta be in the picture,” he flashes you an apologetic smile in a way that he wasn’t really sorry, instead finding that pout on your lips amusing.

so now you’re here standing a little outside the porch of his steps, boombox over your head, as jaemin angles the camera from the balcony, capturing you perfectly…well, not quite, “wait, the sun is in your eyes!, move to the left a little bit!,” he shouts from the second floor, as you quickly follow his instructions, “is this good?!,” you yell back, earning a nod of approval from the boy.

he takes another snap and another and another – this time around, you curse his attention to detail, your arms starting to burn, back starting to ache, legs getting tired from standing for so long with the heavy boombox over your head, “jaemin, are we almost done!,” you yell out, annoyance seeping through you.

“just one more shot angel, i promise!,” he shouts back. and so you do one more shot for him, posing in the way he wanted and just like he promised, it was finally over.

jaemin hurries down the steps of the fraternity house as you head back inside, “sorry, that took longer than i expected,” he says, gently taking the boombox from your hold, swapping it instead with a cool glass of water he had readily prepared for you.

taking a napkin, he carefully dabs away the sweat that has formed around your temples, “it’s okay, did the pictures turn out okay?,” you ask, offering him a warm smile.

“come see for yourself,” his hand envelops yours, tugging you up the stairs and onto the balcony where he had been standing. and just like the diner photo, this one also looked exactly out of a rom-com movie.

“wow, guess it only takes an amazing photographer for me to look like a lead in a movie,” you compliment and jaemin can’t help but grin from ear to ear, your praise going straight to his heart.

“well, a photographer also needs a beautiful muse, so thank you,” he smiles warmly, “and since you went through all that trouble for me, i want to show you something,” he says shyly before taking your hand in his once again and leading you back to his bedroom.

you make yourself comfortable, sitting on his computer chair as he rummages through his shelves, looking for something. after a minute or two, he takes out a large book and slowly, hesitantly, makes his way over to you, carefully landing the book on your lap.

“what’s this?,” you ask, curiously inspecting the outside of the book.

“that day in the cafe, you asked to see my photos,” you realize now that what you were holding was a photo album.

“i’ve never really shown them to anyone before so please be kind to me,” he says, rambling nervously, “of course constructive criticism is always welcome and you don’t have to like it,” he chuckles softly, trying to play it cool, hoping you won’t notice how loudly his heart was pounding in his chest.

“jaemin, you don’t have to show me this,” you say, your breath catching in your throat, heart aching.

for the first time since all of this began, you realize that jaemin is being entirely sincere with you. and here you are, sitting on his bed, taking up space, with a knife hidden behind your back.

“y/n, i want to show you,” he admits, “you’ve been entirely honest with me and i’m ready to do the same,” he says, nudging the album in your hand, wanting you to finally open it.

if only he knew.

you couldn’t take looking into his warm brown eyes any longer, focusing instead on the photo album.

finally turning a page. the first picture that greets you is of a woman that resembles the man in front of you, a shining smile on her face as she sat on a picnic blanket, the green scenery behind her making it look like she was straight out of a fairytale.

“that’s my mom, most important person in my life, she loves going on picnics,” he quietly comments, snapping your attention back to him, you give him a smile, “she’s beautiful jaemin, you captured her perfectly,” your voice faltering, before turning to the next page.

you recognize the next picture was of the boy you met during the party - mark, his name was. holding a guitar, and just like his mother in the previous page, he had a happy smile on his face, clutter of music sheets surrounding him.

the next couple of pages were all the boys you recognize from his fraternity, each one sporting a look of contentment in a place where they seemed to belong.

jaemin watches you flip from page to page, taking in the way your eyes would widen, the small smile that would appear in your lips as you looked over every photograph. his heart pounding in his chest. he wanted to impress you.

you turn and turn, getting to the photos where he was in, with his family and his friends. the sweet smile that he would share with you all marked in these pages. you realized those were your favorite. you wanted to paint it. wanted to capture every detail and keep it to yourself.

then, at the very last page was the picture of you – sitting in the cafe, on that very first date the two of you had.

you felt like you lost the ability to speak, just staring at the photo, guilt creeping in your heart. you didn’t deserve a place in these pages yet here you were… and he has managed to make you look as beautiful as the rest, like you were a part of everything good and true in his life.

“why am i on here?,” you shakily whisper, trying to push back the lump forming in your throat.

“these are all stories i want to keep forever,” jaemin softly whispers, “and i told you y/n, i like this story,” you turn to look at him, reading him. looking into his eyes, you see nothing but honesty.

the boy in front of you has finally let his walls down but you don’t feel an ounce of accomplishment. none of the feelings of gratification that you were supposed to be feeling came. the thoughts of revenge so far back in your mind.

instead you sat there, the butterflies in your stomach coming to life as you inched closer, closing the space in between you and capturing his lips in yours. jaemin quickly responds, kissing you back just as sweetly. the gravity of the moment hanging in the air.

“i'm guessing you like it?,” he asks.

"i love it," you confess, just before he pulls you in for another kiss, feeling his smile against your lips.

𓏲𝄢

jaemin walks back into the fraternity just right after dropping you off. head all up in the clouds, a love arrow happily pierced right into his heart as he hums a tune. he’s loving the constant goodnight kisses, loving the thought of being able to kiss you forever.

“jaemin–,” a voice strictly calls out to him, bringing him back to reality.

“yes, my lovely friend, renjun,” he sighs happily, sitting across from him on the living room couch.

“how long have you known, angel?,” renjun inquired.

“a week now, why?,” jaemin asks, nonchalantly. if he was here to tell him that he was being a hopeless romantic again then he doesn’t really want to hear it. this time he knows it’s different.

if the butterflies in his stomach weren't proof enough, the messages you leave for mr. cupid sure was.

“there’s something off about her,” renjun comments, making jaemin roll his eyes, “oh c’mon, you say this about every girl im with,” he points out. renjun has always been picky with the company his friends kept so this wasn’t really new to him.

“i’m serious jaemin, she seems familiar but i just can’t place my finger on it,” renjun ponders, earning a scoff from the younger boy, “there’s no placing your finger on anything, she goes to our university, you’ve probably seen her walking around campus,” he reasons out.

“whatever jaemin, just be careful,” renjun advised before walking out of the living room and up the stairs.

jaemin shakes his head, thinking back to the memory of you looking through his photo album and once again, find himself humming, smiling at the ceiling. there was absolutely nothing anyone could say to ruin this for him.

dear mr. cupid,

i think i'm falling for him.

love,

angel

you hated yourself that night.

𓏲𝄢

jaemin leads you to the parking lot, hand in hand. you inspect the location, wondering what romantic scene he had planned out for the last scenario. you’ve been dreading this moment, realizing that it’s soon coming to an end. every tick of the clock leads you to step three: breaking his heart.

you stop in front of a silver car, your brain not connecting the pieces together. turning to the boy right next to you with a set of curious eyes.

“we're going to a new location for this one,” he explains, opening the car door up for you. you don’t question it, somehow you trust him enough to hop into the passenger seat.

jaemin ensures you're securely buckled in before stealing a quick kiss, leaving a surprised flush on your face. with a smile, he jogs around and settles into the driver’s seat, putting the car in drive and hitting the gas.

you sat in silence, gazing out the window as the scenery shifted, the soft hum of the radio barely audible, allowing your mind to wander.

as you reflected on the past few days, each quiet moment seemed to lead you back to this – the heavy weight of dread and guilt slowly taking over.

the once alluring idea of revenge now tastes bitter on your tongue. you expected it to be difficult, but you never anticipated that the true challenge would be the way he’d quietly capture pieces of your heart and how you didn’t mind it at all.

in fact, you liked it. you liked being around him, liked his stolen kisses, his stories, his gentleness, the warmth that he left on your skin with every touch, his laugh and most of all, that stupid sweet smile he always seems to be sporting around you.

you’ve replayed it in your mind a thousand times, torn between the devil and the angel on your shoulders, unsure if this plan is worth risking the bond you've built with him. but every time, the same side wins — the side of pride, the side that tells you this is all still a lie. and if it’s not, then the truth remains. this relationship was born from anger and hate.

jaemin interlaces his fingers around yours, grabbing your hand, bringing you back in the car with him, “what are you thinking about?,” he asks softly. even without looking at him, you can see the smile on his face, the gentleness in his tone.

“just thinking about where we're going,” you lie, staring at your interlocked fingers that somehow seemed to fit like two perfect puzzle pieces.

“hmm, we’re going down south, to busan,” he answers and your eyes almost bulge out of your head, “what?!,” he chuckles at your expressive reaction, “jaemin that’s like a 4 hour drive,” you sulk in your seat, hand still in his, “why do we need to go that far?”

“for rain,” he shrugs, bringing your hand up to his lips as he placed a soft kiss upon your knuckles. you fight the urge to smile.

“what exactly do you have planned, loverboy?,” you tease him, pushing all your previous thoughts to the side and focusing on this moment.

“oh you know, pretty rain, pretty girl,” he tosses you a look, confirming your thoughts. he was planning to do the ever so famous rain kiss.

“if you wanted to kiss me, you don’t even need to ask,” you teased, earning a playful laugh from him, “-will keep that in mind, angel,” he winks.

the rest of the car ride was spent singing to whatever was on the radio, learning each other’s favorite things, sharing fun stories and a few more stolen kisses, some of them coming from you.

it all felt comfortable, almost like you were always meant to be here with him by your side. eventually, sleep crept up on you, leaving jaemin in the warm silence, eyes occasionally drifting to your figure, finding peace in the calm as he drove.

the next time you open your eyes is when you finally get to the location jaemin had in mind. it was cloudier here, the sky already casting a soft gray hue. jaemin sets up his equipment, preparing for the rain, while you rush to assist, quickly placing everything into the makeshift set. the lush green landscape stretches around you, the open field decorated with blooms of pinks, whites and yellows, while the river in the distance adds a cool touch of blue. you’re not entirely sure if the camera could capture the beauty of nature but you trust jaemin will find a way to make it come to life.

the rain came at the perfect moment.

jaemin decided to hit record on his camera instead, explaining how it’d be easier for the two of you, since he didn't have to run back and forth to take the picture.

he led you to the right spot, flashing you a smile before his hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer and without wasting another second his lips were on yours. heart immediately racing in your chest as you move in complete synchronization, lips chasing his as he took the lead.

the rain continuously pouring over you.

when you could no longer breathe, you pull away, giggles erupting from both of your chests.

the rain pours harder and harder. jaemin feels like he’s been struck by lightning, your giggles melodically ringing in his ear.

he pulls you back in again, kissing you gently, so intimately, like he forgot there was a camera a couple feet away. every kiss, he loses himself in you, melting under your fingertips and for the first time in forever he says words he’s never said to any girl.

“i really like you, y/n,” he confesses, the words floating in the air, replacing the sound of the rain thumping on the ground, filling every corner of your mind. he rests his forehead against yours, warm brown eyes filled with sincerity, making you unable to breathe.

and just like that, the other side won — the side that has fallen for him. the one that believes this is real. the side that likes hearing your name slip from his lips, the stolen kisses, the warmth of his hand in yours, the laughter and of course that sweet smile forever etched in your mind.

you don’t want to let go of any it.

instead, you decide to throw your four step plan out the window, casting away all thoughts of revenge that once burdened your heart.

in that moment, you felt light, free.

the rain fell in an endless rhythm, drumming against your skin, soaking every inch of you, but you barely noticed it as you kissed him again. this time with a passion that made it feel like your life depended on it.

he’s a dream you couldn’t bear to lose, a fleeting moment you feared would vanish the moment you opened your eyes. but then you feel him smile against your lips, warm hands tightening around your waist as he pulls you even closer and you’re reminded that this is real and exactly where you want to be.

you stayed like that, wrapped in each other’s embrace until the cold slowly crept in, seeping through your clothes.

the rain never letting up.

𓏲𝄢

jaemin did not plan this well at all. besides the fact that he didn’t think to bring extra clothes, the light showers the weather app had predicted had turned into a brutal rainstorm and it was getting harder for him to drive, the droplets continuing to pour heavily on the car window.

“angel, we’re gonna need to stop and stay overnight somewhere,” he suggested in which you quickly agreed to, prioritizing safety. which is how you ended up sitting on the bed with nothing but the bathrobe that came with the hotel, your clothes drying in the bathroom that was currently occupied by none other than jaemin, himself.

the hotel only had one room available and of course, like this was all a part of your doom, that available room happened to have only one bed.

you’ve already taken your shower, washing off the remnants of the cold rain sticking to your body. now that you're in the safety of the warm room, waiting for the boy to finish, your mind can’t help but wander at the possibilities the night held. you’re not entirely sure you could stop yourself if he decides to advance. in fact, you’re not entirely sure you could control yourself around him.

shaking the thoughts away, you finish drying your hair before getting under the bedsheets and tucking yourself in, making sure your robe hugged tightly around your body.

grabbing the remote from the bedside table, you switch the t.v. on, hoping the noise could drown out the nerves. you settled on the channel playing harry potter and the goblet of fire, forcing yourself to focus on the movie instead of the boy that was as naked as you just on the other side of the bathroom door.

jaemin steps out of the bathroom a couple minutes later, his robe hanging loosely around his body, a bit of his toned chest exposed to the cool air. you try not to stare for too long as he walks around the room, eyes on the t.v. he quickly shuts off the lights before finally settling on the chair, farthest away from your side of the bed, “i love this movie,” he comments, your heart pounding in your chest at the sound of his voice, somehow raspier in the night.

the effect he had on you was absolutely insane. you’ve had sex before, had a couple tricks up your sleeve but nothing like what you’ve heard about jaemin. the fact that he was amazing at sex was a known fact throughout the entire university, girls always giggling about how they had the best night of their lives and how they couldn’t walk the next morning.

turning your head towards him, you’ve realized how engrossed he actually is in the movie that’s playing and it makes you feel silly. jaemin has never made you do anything you didn’t want to do and not once has he ever crossed a line. you really needed to get your head out of the gutter.

“why are you sitting all the way over there? this bed is big enough for both of us you know,” you say, capturing his attention, reminding him of the fact that this bed is a queen sized bed.

he sends you a soft smile, “i’m a gentleman, angel”

“oh please,” you scoff playfully, “we’re both adults, we can control ourselves,” you point out, completely contradicting your thoughts and burying yourself in a bigger hole. it’s not that you were trying to provoke him, it’s just that he was the one who paid for the room and you would feel absolutely awful if he had to squeeze himself in the chair, that was obviously too small and uncomfortable, the whole night.

you pat the empty space beside you, “c’mon, i won’t bite,” you playfully tease.

unbeknownst to you, jaemin was in a way tougher spot.

he accidentally caught a glimpse of your pink lacy underwear, the one you left behind in the shower, tucked in between the rest of your clothes, and couldn’t get the image of you in a matching set out of his head. then his mind started to get a little out of control, if your underwear were here then that must only mean you were completely naked underneath that white robe.

he had to relieve himself in the shower, hand wrapped tightly around his hard cock, biting back his moans as his mind brought him to images of you. he thought jerking himself off in the bathroom would help push away all his desire for the rest of the night but as soon as he stepped into your room and saw how small you looked, tucked into the queen sized bed, he felt his cock twitch under his robe again. which is why he had to resort to turning off all the lights in the room, afraid you would see his boner poking out. then he sat there, focused on harry potter, as he tried to drown out your presence.

but now, you’re inviting him to take up the space next to you and god, you have absolutely no clue what you’re doing to him, it’s unfair. he feels disgusted at the fact that all he could think about is how much he wants to fuck you.

he really needed to get his mind out of the gutter.

slowly, he got up. surely this would not help his case but he didn’t want you to think he was a horndog that couldn’t control himself. he usually was better at this. it was just the fact that it was you and he wants you so bad. needs you. all those lingering touches and kisses finally catching up to him.

he focuses again on the screen ahead, the t.v. illuminating the dark room, light bouncing off of your faces as you sat in silence, just watching the movie play out. though if you asked him what just happened in the scene, he wouldn’t be able to tell you. his mind racing with anything that could help soften his dick.

at one point it got way too hot beneath the sheets and you made the mistake of releasing your arm out from the under and onto the bed, right next to where jaemin’s arm was lying. you try to ignore the heat radiating off of his body, try to ignore the rapid rhythm of your heart. pulling away would be suspicious so you kept it there.

jaemin’s eyes flicker from the t.v. to your hand. you were so close, all he had to do was move his pinky and his hand would be in yours.

his self-control was becoming thinner with every second that passed and before he even realized what he was doing, his pinky moved — bumping into yours and in the next second he had your hands locked together.

he turns his head towards you only to see you were already looking up at him, starry eyes locked on his for a second before you quickly turned away, blush creeping up your cheeks at being caught.

he can’t help himself anymore, moving away from the headboard and lowering himself down to the pillows as he turned his body in your direction. this time, when he turned to look at you, you were only a couple of inches away from him.

“angel,” he whispers. you cautiously turned your head towards his, knowing that there was absolutely no going back from this. the tension in the room has got you clenching at nothing and you were getting sick of it. you wanted him and you’re not entirely sure why you were holding back, considering the confessions you shared earlier.

jaemin takes a second to study your face, memorizing every freckle before he let his eyes finally dart down to your parted lips, “i really want to kiss you,” he confesses into the night air, like it was a secret no one else was allowed to hear.

“i thought i told you if you wanted to kiss me you don’t even need to ask,” you quietly tease and that was all jaemin needed to hear before giving in to the cravings of the night, harry potter long forgotten as he finally pressed his lips on yours.

he kisses you once, twice, three times before his tongue darts in begging for permission. your mouth immediately parting as you gave him access, tongues moving in melody.

the make out session grew heavier and heavier, fingers finding their way through his hair, lightly tugging, eliciting a messy whine from him, his moans sending tingles throughout your body. “fuck, y/n, i need you,” he groans against your lips and you couldn’t agree more.

you wanted his hands all over you, regretting how tightly you tucked yourself into the blankets. swiftly, and with jaemin’s help, you pushed the blanket off of you, never once breaking the kiss, leaving both of you in your robes. the lack of the heavy covers made it easier for your hands to roam, wandering down to his chests as jaemins hand settled on your back, a little bit above your ass, pulling you so close you could feel his bulge against your clothed core.

“take this off,” he demands, untying your robe and pushing it off of your shoulders, jaemin quickly tossing it somewhere across the room before hovering over you.

he takes a moment, taking you all in for the first time, practically drooling at the sight of you, you’re so beautiful to him. it’s as if an actual angel was right in front of him and the thought of him ruining you makes his cock twitch. he didn’t even know he could get this hard.

“jaemin, please do something,” you say, starting to feel insecure under his gaze. your small voice snaps him out of his daydream. “you’re so fucking beautiful,” he praises before his lips latched onto your nipple, sucking, licking, making your back arch towards him, moans slipping past your lips, other hand playing with the other bud, twisting, pinching and you feel like you could cum just from that.

“f-fuck jaemin, want you please,” you sigh in pleasure, hips bucking up in response to his actions.

“what do you want, angel?,” he asks, teasing you and it takes every ounce in you not to pounce on him.

“i want you to touch me, p-please,” you don’t even care how desperate you sounded right now.

“i am touching you, angel,” he was loving this way too much. the way you were unraveling underneath him and he hasn’t even touched the neediest part of your body.

“lower,” you plead, earning a smirk from him, “hmm, right here?,” he asks, his hand, wandering down to outline the curve of your waist and landing on your hip, rubbing soft circles around your love handles. you don’t know how much more teasing you could take, your pussy dripping with arousal, “lower, please,” you cry out, “tell me where, angel, want to hear it from you,” he grunts against your ear, leaving marks all over your neck, “i want your fingers inside of me, please,” you plead for the third time.

“anything my angel wants, she gets,” jaemin playfully whispers before his fingers found its way to your folds, rubbing up and down, “so wet already, all this for me huh,” he praises, your head nodding vigorously in response, “only for you, jaemin.”

happy with your response, his finger slides into you, finally giving you what you wanted. even with your pooling arousal, you were still so tight around his digit, making him curse. he curls his finger, immediately hitting that spot that made you see stars, eliciting a high pitched moan from you, pussy clenching even tighter.

“fuuck angel, im gonna need you to open up for me,” he slides another finger in, curling and scissoring againsts your walls, pleasure coursing through your veins, he was so so good.

“i need to taste you,” he warns before he was diving into your pussy, mouth sucking and blowing against your clit, lapping up your juices, catching your breath, “holy fuck, jaemin,” your stomach clenches, heat traveling all throughout your body as you feel your orgasm coming to a close embarrassingly soon.

“i-m gonna come, baby,” the new pet name drives jaemin absolutely crazy, fingers practically moving at a speed of light inside your walls as he continued to suck on your clit, “go ahead angel, come for me,” he moans against your pussy, the added vibrations rolling your eyes back as you lost the ability to moan, head falling backwards, mouth wide open as you came.

jaemin coaxes you through it, savoring every drop before his lips were back on yours, pulling you back down to reality as you taste yourself in his tongue.

“you okay?,” you hum in approval, a smile taking over your features as you kiss him back, hands quickly untying his robe. jaemin quickly responds, pushing the last piece of clothing away, cock springing free.

in one swift motion, you push him back down to the pillows, taking the lead as you straddled him, “your turn,” you whisper, a light shock appearing on the boy’s face before he settled into the bed, getting comfortable. one of his hands coming up to support the back of his head as he watched you, the other roaming all over your skin, a smirk displayed on his lips.

you were fucking nervous, you’ve never been this upfront in the bedroom but due to how much experience he had, you wanted to show him that you could keep up.

“want to make you feel good,” you whisper in his ear, making him shiver, he swears you were going to be the death of him. your lips found its way to his neck, decorating him with the same pinks and purples you’re sure he has left all over your body.

jaemin was very vocal, already whining under your touch, helping you completely push away any of the remaining worries you had. your fingers found it’s way around his nipples, lightly squeezing and you realized how sensitive he was as he squirmed below you, hips immediately thrusting up, “fuck, angel you’re gonna kill me,” he whines and you can’t help but let out a soft giggle as you travelled lower and lower, hand softly wrapping around his hard length, earning a breathily groan from him. you understood now why your body really needed to open up. he’s huge and you were definitely intimidated.

you start by kitten licking his tip making jaemin hold his breath as you stare up at him, his eyes completely blown out. you can tell how much restraint he’s trying to hold on to to not shove his cock down your throat. you don’t tease him for too long before finally taking his length in your mouth, sucking on his tip, jaemin’s groans immediately increasing as his hand found its way to your hair, gripping tightly, orgasm already creeping up.

you bobbed your head up and down, tears brimming in your eyes at his size. he has no idea what you’re doing to him, how you managed to have him coming undone in seconds, body shaking under your touch. no girl has made him cum this fast before, “fuck angel, i can’t last,” he manages to mumble in between heavy pants. the words encouraging you as your hand finds its way around his balls, gently cupping.

you barely touched him before he was toppling over, cum shooting down your throat with no warning, making you choke.

your hand continued to work him through his orgasm as you cleared your throat. jaemin had to practically push you away, “angel, please stop, i need to feel you,” he groans, pulling you back up to his lips and kissing you passionately.

carefully, he switches the position, having you under him once again. he reaches out for his wallet placed on the nightstand, taking the pack of condom and ripping it open with his teeth before placing it on his already semi hard cock, “god, look what you do to me,” he grunts.

your hand rubs up and down his thighs as you watch him swipe his length between your wet folds, the tension in your stomach building up once again.

he wraps your legs around him, kissing you slowly, so intimately, “i really fucking like you, y/n,” he admits for the second time that day, sending you what has now became your favorite smile.

“i really like you too, jaemin,” you reply, pulling him closer as he aligns his cock against your entrance.

jaemin wasn’t a fan of missionary but god, you’re so fucking beautiful, he wanted nothing more but to look at you when he entered, watching your face contort as you adjust to the size of his large cock, harmonized moans mixing in the air.

for the first time, he finally understood all the sentiments his friends in relationships would say — this feeling was so different from the regular hook ups. the passion, the intimacy of it all. you were so dangerous to him and yet he was obsessed with the way you have him wrapped around your finger.

he loves the way your eyebrows furrowed in between pleasure and pain as he bottomed in, your walls finally hugging the size of his cock, sucking him in deeper and deeper. the way your lips fell into moans once he started thrusting in and out of you. your eyes shutting as he increased the pace, faster and deeper and always hitting that spot that got your head rolling back, toes curling. the way you gripped his back as he rubbed harsh circles around your clit, sending you to overdrive. the way your body went completely limp against the pillows, face in complete bliss as your walls tightened around him, sucking him in. his abs clenching in response, a guttural moan from his throat escaping, reaching a high he’s never felt before as he burrowed his face into your neck to control his shaking body.

you enjoyed the feeling of his skin against yours, reveling in your shared orgasms. staying that way for a minute or two, his body heavy against yours before he snuck in a gentle kiss to your lips.

you hiss as he pulled out, already feeling empty without him. he fucked you so good that all you wanted to do was slip into the peaceful darkness, sleep begging to take over.

the distant hum from the t.v. continues, playing the credits, as the rain pounded on the windows filling your ears. you feel the bed dip beside you as he moved around, feel the soft cloth against your pussy, wiping away your arousal, feel him take the spot next to you once again, shutting off the t.v and pulling you close to his chest.

“goodnight, angel,” he whispers, gently draping the blanket over your bodies, before placing a soft kiss on your temple and finally letting sleep consume you.

jaemin wakes up the next morning, your figure right next to him. it was strange, waking up to a person but he liked it — liked that it was you.

the sunrise peeks through the curtains as the memory from last night vividly replays in his head. he softly pushes away the layers of hair that have covered your face, taking in your angelic appearance as your chest rises and fall to a steady rhythm, sleep still hugging you.

he starts tracing the outline of your cheekbones, fingers softly grazing the curve of your nose, down to your lips. he takes in every detail, taking a mental screenshot.

your eyes flutter open at his light touches, “take a picture, it’ll last longer,” you tease which you figured was the wrong thing to say to a photographer as soon as the words lef your mouth, jaemin wasting no time to reach for his phone and snapping a shot.

“oh my god! i was kidding, i look like a mess,” you scream playfully, bringing the blanket over your head and covering your face in embarrassment, earning a laugh from the boy beside you.

he tugs the blanket off of your face, “you look even more beautiful in the morning, angel,” he compliments, making you blush.

the rest of the morning was spent well — shared selfies, slow kisses, lazy sex, touches lingering all over your skin, an innocent shower with millions of stolen kisses, laughter and more stories.

everything truly felt like a dream, like you were sitting on a cloud occupied by only two. hands never leaving the other’s as jaemin drove back to seoul, the car ride filled with sweet nothings.

𓏲𝄢

jaemin was worried sick. it’s been two days and you haven’t reached out to him. his texts being left on delivered. fear was starting to creep up on him in the form of doubts and mistrust. he thought maybe you were exactly like the rest and you did only want him for sex and now that it’s done, you were also gone and he was nothing but a fool being hit by his own karma.

he realizes now that he’s too deep into this, that it’s too late now to take it all back. too late now to make sure you can’t hurt him. he’s never given anyone this much control over him and he was absolutely losing it.

his phone dings and he scrambles to pick it up, hoping that this time it was you on the other end. his prayers being answered when your name pops up, letting out a sigh of relief.

my angel: jaemin i’m sorry…

his heart races in his chest, not entirely sure what you were apologizing about. he watches as the three dots appear on the screen, an indication that you were still typing.

my angel: i’m sick :(

my angel: i think the rain finally caught up with me

he reads the message, feeling absolutely awful and guilty that his mind could even taint your image like that. that he could even let doubts fill his head.

all he wanted to do now was take care of you.

on the other side, you were really regretting staying out in the rain for so long as you sat in your bed rotting, body burning up, head hurting, nose red, throat dry. it’s been two days since you last saw jaemin and you missed him…a lot. but you didn’t want him to catch your virus so now you’re here, hanging on by a thread as he spammed your inbox with messages filled with tips on how to get over a cold quickly.

the next morning, after asking around, jaemin finds himself knocking on your dorm room’s door, a bag containing hot soup and medicine in hand.

he couldn’t stand the thought of doing nothing so here he is, ready to be your nurse for the day and cure you back to health.

the door swings wide open only to reveal a familiar face, “jaemin?,” the girl with long black hair asks, head turned like a curious puppy.

“uhmm,” he mutters, quickly racking his brain for information, searching for a name he definitely knew. he remembers her face, remembers the fact that they shared a night together but he can’t quite pinpoint who she is exactly.

for a second, he thinks he’s in the wrong room, until her voice breaks him out of his thoughts, “are you looking for y/n?,” she asks.

he nods in response as she gestured to the door across the room, “she’s in there,” she said before stepping aside, letting him in and quietly shutting the door behind him as she hurries into her own room.

jaemin stands there, bewildered, if she was your roommate, who he’s sure he definitely knew, then surely you must have known who he was when the two of you first met. surely, you’d heard about his reputation. so why did you say you didn’t know him?

the sound of a cough coming from behind your door snaps him back into place. when doubt clouded his mind yesterday, he turned out to be terribly wrong. pushing the confusion aside, he steadies himself and gently knocks on your door.

“giselle, don’t come in, i’ll get you sick,” you respond, the raspiness of your voice evident.

your roommates name echoes in his ear as he finally unlocked the memory of who she was – the girl who told him she loved him. the girl he said the words back to…on accident.

he quickly pushes the memory away, turning the door knob as he finally makes his way inside your room, eyes scanning the space. he notices the various trinkets scattered on shelves, paintings and posters adorning the walls, books stacked in neat chaos, brushes cluttered on your desk.

“jaemin?,” you manage to croak out, eye squinting at the bright light coming from the living room. you’ve been pent up in the dark for too long, the only light coming from the small lamp on your desk. your hair sticks up in every direction and you had absolutely no color on your face. you look like a total mess. but somehow, seeing you like that only makes his heart skip a beat.

god, he was down bad.

“hey angel, i brought you some chicken noodle soup, it’ll help you feel better,” he says softly, completely forgetting the thought of giselle as he sat on the edge of your bed, taking out the bowl he had prepared.

“jaemin, i’m gonna get you sick,” you pout, hiding under the covers to try and contain your virus, earning a soft chuckle from the boy, “angel, i’m pretty sure you’ve already contaminated the air in this room,” he points out, playfully poking your side until you came out from underneath.

“you don’t even have a humidifier,” he teases, reaching over to smooth down your messy hair before bringing the spoon filled with the hot soup to your lips. you let out a resigned sigh, rolling your eyes, but a smile tugs at the corners of your mouth as you give in.

he spends the rest of the evening taking care of you, checking your temperature, making sure you take the proper medicine. his quiet care speaking louder than any words could.

carefully, he tucks you both in, ignoring your sleepy protests about him catching your cold as he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you close, your head resting against his chest. it's warm, safe, and comfortable. so comforting that the next minute, sleep takes you, carried off by the side effects of the medicine and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

𓏲𝄢

the sound of clutter jolts you back to reality, waking you up from your slumber. blinking slowly, you spot jaemin’s figure hunched over, quietly gathering the things he must have knocked over, “you okay?,” you groggily question, rubbing the sleep away.

“sorry angel, i accidentally bumped into your desk, i’ll clean it up, don’t worry,” he says softly, already rearranging your things back into place.

but then you see it – a little too late. your stomach drops, everything inside you stills. instantly you knew your world was about to crumble down, “wait, jaemin–” you call out, urgency creeping into your voice, but he was focused on the task at hand.

jaemin picks up the fallen journal, a photo slipping out from between the pages.

it takes him a second to process that the person in the photo was his own reflection but once he did, everything shifts – there he is, staring back at himself, the mr. cupid sign right behind him.

a wave of realization crashes over him, bringing all his doubts to the surface, “why do you have this?,” he demands, turning around to face you, the photo gripped tightly in his hand.

the guilty expression on your face was enough to shatter any remaining illusions – he knows he’s been playing the fool. he should’ve known that this was too good to be true.

in a flash, jaemin flips through your journal, looking for answers, “jaemin, don’t!,” you get up, ignoring the way your vision momentarily blurs, threatening to pull you under. but you were too late. jaemin has stumbled across your four step plan.

“the downfall of na jaemin. step one - introduce yourself. step two - make him fall in love with you. step three and four - break his heart and reveal to the whole world that their beloved mr. cupid is a phony,” jaemin reads out loud, his entire figure rigid as he connects all of the clues, his mind replaying every memory like it was some sort of cruel punishment crafted just for him.

“you didn’t think i’d actually tell mr. cupid my real name did you? it would be so embarrassing for me,”

dear mr. cupid, i'm going to my first party ever! how can i make sure i catch the attention of the person i like? love, heart / “not much of a party goer are you?,” earning a soft nod from you, “it’s my first party” you confess.

the way you walked out that saturday morning he brought you his hangover cure, ditching the pink outfits because you knew he wasn’t going to be around.

renjun voicing out his suspicious concerns and telling him to be careful.

the door opening to giselle, a girl he had sex with at a random party. the same girl that was standing just outside your bedroom door – your roommate.

every single moment, every confession, every word that he believed to be true led to this – your four step plan, cold and calculated, had no other intention but to hurt him.

every ounce of trust he’d placed in you, every bit of affection, it was all nothing but a step forward.

every time he was being honest, you only showed him what he wanted to see.

he didn’t know the person in front of him. all he knows now is that this is all a lie.

“jaemin, please let me explain,” you plead, voice shaking as you fight back the tears that were daring to escape, taking a cautious step towards him, unsure if he’ll let you get any closer.

he meets your gaze, pain and betrayal flashing all over his features – raw, gutting, all-consuming and gone in a second.

his face goes stone cold, “there’s nothing to explain,” he says, each word cutting clean, final.

“have fun with step four, y/n,” he mutters, voice deep with frustration before tossing your journal and the now crumpled photo to the ground. without another word, he storms out of your room, angrily slamming the door behind him, your heart dropping.

you rush after him, voice breaking as you cry out, “jaemin, please,” you grab his hand, desperation flooding your every movement, holding on tight, trying to make him stay, “it’s not what it looks like, please,” at this point you don’t stop the tears from flowing. you don’t care anymore. you just can’t let him walk out the door.

the loud ruckus catches your best friend’s attention. giselle quick to join you in the living room, eyes wide with concern, “what happened? is everyone okay?,” she asks, frantically looking between your broken expression and jaemin’s seething anger.

her presence was enough to pull your focus away, jaemin taking the opportunity to yank his hand out of your grip and finally making his way out.

you tried to follow him out but before you could take another step, your body finally gave up on you and you came crashing down the living room floor.

jaemin hears the sickening thud of your fall and giselle’s frantic shout of your name. for a brief moment, he hesitates, just long enough to almost turn back and check if you’re okay…but he doesn't.

blinded by rage, jaemin stormed into the fraternity house and without a second thought, his fist crashed through the living room wall, no longer able to contain his anger. he was seeing red.

“dude! what the fuck?!,” chenle yells, everyone turning their heads in surprise. but what shocked them the most was the next scene — watching their friend drop to the floor, quiet sobs escaping his lips as he burrowed his face into his hands.

jeno was up in no time, making his way over, “what happened?,” he asks, checking his friend for any injuries.

“you were right, renjun,” jaemin choked out between his broken sobs, feeling absolutely defeated.

the room fell silent as everyone turned to face renjun, wanting for an explanation, “y/n, isn’t who she says she is,” jaemin muttered, wiping tears that refused to stop. he felt pathetic — so this is what heartbreak felt like.

he wouldn’t wish it on anyone, not even on his worst enemies.

“who’s y/n?,” renjun looks around, confused, earning a light punch from donghyuck, “angel, dude,” he whispers under his breath like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

renjun pieced it all together in an instant. he knew you looked familiar, he just didn’t know you were that familiar, that you were the same girl who sat behind him in art class — you disguised yourself so well, you fooled even him.

he watched his broken friend on the ground, jaemin’s figure slumped against the wall he’d struck moments earlier, lips trembling, tear-streaked face buried in his hands.

𓏲𝄢

“renjun, please just let me talk to him,” you ask for the umpteenth time. it’s been three days since your fight with jaemin and in those three days, his friends have done everything in their power to keep you away, rightfully so.

when you showed up to the fraternity house, ready to explain your side and apologize, haechan immediately shut you down, slamming the door in your face.

when you saw him in the university’s cafeteria the next day, jeno was right next to him in an instant, pulling him away before he could even see you.

every single message you sent him was left on delivered, every call going straight to voicemail. you were desperate to reach him and renjun was your only access. he couldn’t exactly ditch class to avoid you.

renjun rolls his eyes, scoffing, “again, the answer is no, angel,” he says sarcastically, the nickname dripping with venom, his tone laced with disgust.

you wince, desperation creeping into your voice, “i just need to explain and i promise i won’t ever show my face again.” your eyes are full of conviction, pleading for a chance to right your wrongs.

he sighs. truth is, him and the boys have no idea why jaemin was so upset, only telling them that you lied to him about who you truly were but what does that even mean?

after mulling it over he finally says, “his showcase is on friday at the university’s gallery, 3 p.m., he has to be there for his project which i’m sure you know all about,” he pauses, “you can talk to him there if he wants to but all the boys are gonna be there too,” he warns.

renjun and the boys practically hated your guts but they also know how important you’ve become to their friend, otherwise he wouldn’t be sat at home, moping around, watching rom-coms as a form of self destruction, muttering “love is a lie,” every time the two characters get together in the end.

“thank you,” you nod in understanding, your gratitude mixed with a quiet tension.

“let’s get something straight y/n,” he says, his tone hardening as he starts to walk away, “i’m not doing this for you.”

with that, he leaves you standing at your station, the weight of his words sinking in.

𓏲𝄢

the university's art gallery buzzed with life, lined wall-to-wall with projects from various photography majors. you hadn’t expected such a crowd, the room filled with chatter and laughter as the bright lights illuminated the spacious room.

you take your time, making your way around, palms clammy and heart pounding as you move through the room, quietly practicing the speech you've prepared for days. gone were the sparkly pink outfits and the persona that came with it. replaced by just jeans and a plain t-shirt. you continued weaving through the art gallery, the panels shifting from artist to artist, until you finally reached his.

jaemin’s name stood boldly against the wall, his project titled, “stupid cupid.”

your breath caught as your eyes dropped to the description beneath it:

“love in the movies feels effortless and looks beautiful but all those picture-perfect moments turn out to be nothing more than echoes of a love that was never real to begin with.”

the word’s, achingly beautiful in their bitterness, struck like an arrow piercing your heart. you scanned the pictures on the wall, trying to contain your emotions.

each image held a memory, fragile and glowing – the moment in the cafe, the boombox in your hand, the kiss in the rain, now looping endlessly in video, truly playing like a haunting echo of what once was.

you stood frozen, emotions tightening in your throat, eyes brimming with tears as you wanted nothing more than to step into that scene and live in the moment just a little longer.

you wipe the tears from your cheeks, steadying yourself. you had an apology due, you couldn’t let another day pass without telling him everything you wanted to say. this was possibly your only moment and you weren’t going to let it slip away.

your eyes searched the crowded room, until they landed on him.

jaemin stands a little further back, deep in conversation. you recognize mark and jeno right next to him along with some girls from campus who were obviously flirting with him, one of the girls laughing a little too loudly and you almost scoff.

taking a deep breath, you force your feet to move, making your way through the crowd, heart pounding.

mark notices you first, eyes widening for a split second as he immediately grabs jaemin’s wrist, steering him further away from you, “hey winter! have you met my friend, jaemin?,” mark calls out, his voice ringing loud and clear, every word sharp and intentional.

jaemin looks at him suspiciously before greeting the new girl in front of him. you catch the subtle glance of the previous girls lingering behind, clearly disappointed that he walked away.

you cursed under your breath, frustration mounting, they really won’t make this easy for you.

“what are you doing here?,” a voice to your right captures your attention.

“donghyuck!,” you quietly exclaim in surprise, a hand to your heart.

“haechan,” he corrects immediately, “so what’s the angel in disguise doing here?” he laughs like he just said the funniest joke, “god that’s a good one, gotta tell the boys about that,” he snickers to himself, completely lost in his own amusement.

every conversation with him felt like some weird episode you didn’t sign up for. you still couldn't figure out how he managed to charm everyone. his mocking tone was grating, but deep down, you knew you’d earned it.

“i’m just here to apologize,” you sigh, too tired for an argument.

“huh, you’d think you’d get the hint after all the text messages and calls jaemin ignored,” he says, voice dripping with malicious amusement, “don’t flatter yourself too much, y/n, you’re not special, this is just what he does, you were just another girl who fell for it,” he taunts, his words sharp like a dagger before he walked away, leaving you in your thoughts.

they’ve been trying to stop you from reaching him and you’ve had enough. all you wanted was to have a chance to fix things. so you abandoned the careful apology you’d been rehearsing and did the one thing you hadn’t planned.

you called out his name.

your voice rang out, echoing through the large room as the chatter slowly diminished. one by one, every head turned in your direction, but you only saw him.

jaemin's eyes locked with yours and for a split second, something softened in his eyes. then, just as quickly, the wall was back up and that cold, unreadable mask slipped right back into place.

you ignore the hush whispers around you, even the one that cut through clear as day, “wait…she’s the girl from his photos..,” as you slowly walk towards him.

jaemin doesn’t utter a single sound, doesn’t make an effort to move away, he just watches as you approach, silent and unmoving, until you were standing just a few feet away.

“hi”, you begin, your voice barely above a whisper. you ignore haechan’s mocking chuckle, as he now stood next to jaemin.

“im sorry!,” you blurted out, not wasting another second. jaemin doesn’t flinch, doesn’t react, only looking at you like you’re a stranger.

“alright, you said it, you can go now, we’re a bit busy,” jeno cuts in, sharp and dismissive, a devilish smirk on his face as he spoke for his friend. the audience snickers in the background…but you weren’t finished.

“i’m sorry i lied to you,” you say a little more composed this time, standing your ground.

a shaky breath escapes you as the words you’ve been dying to tell him tumble out.

“i hate iced americanos, i hate the color pink and i definitely hated you…at first,” your voice cracks slightly, but you push through it, eyes locked on his.

you don’t care about the stares or the whispers or the way you knew this moment will be dissected by everyone watching – none of it matters, only him.

“and i know, i know everything must feel like a lie now. i wouldn’t blame you if you never believed another word i said,” you laugh bitterly, pushing away the ache in your chest.

“i only did it because i thought it was the right thing to do, i thought you deserved it for leading so many girls on…it’s stupid, i know,” your gaze softens, slightly shaking your head as your voice drops to a fragile murmur, regret and embarrassment written all over your face.

you look up at him once again, his expression still as hard as stone but it doesn’t stop you from saying your next words.

“—but i also know that i’m in love with you,” you quietly confess, the words rolling off your lips for the first time, hanging in the air – honest, bare, terrifying but all so right.

you notice the flicker of something behind his eyes that betrays the coldness in his expression. something almost soft. but it’s gone as soon as it came.

“i’m in love with you,” you repeat, hoping.

“and i'm sorry that we started out this way but this is me, the real me,” you continue, voice shaking as you ignore the lump forming in your throat.

“i prefer iced matcha over iced americanos, my favorite color is white and i have completely, stupidly fallen for you,” you finish your speech, letting the last words hang there, raw and unguarded. there’s nothing left to hide behind, no more reason to pretend.

this is your truth.

the room is silent – so silent that it felt suffocating. not a single person dared to speak, no one even moved, everyone holding their breaths with you, waiting for something…anything.

finally, jaemin takes a step forward, each step he took was slow, deliberate. his expression unreadable, eyes still cold, and you can’t tell if he’s angry, hurt or just tired of it all.

he stops in front of you, close enough that you can see the way his jaw clenches.

“well, angel,” he say, voice low and quiet but cutting all the same, the nickname sounds nothing like it used to – no warmth, no teasing. just ice.

“this was fun,” he snickers, a cruel smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, one that doesn’t reach his eyes.

it wasn’t the smile in his photos – it wasn’t the smile you fell in love with.

“-but that was all it ever was,” he continues and you feel like someone has just punched you in the gut.

“thank you for letting me use you for my project,” he adds, his tone light, casual, like it’s just another throwaway line in a script he’s already performed before.

“but you, of all people, should know–,” he leans in just a little, voice dropping, and for a second his warmth consumes you until his words turn everything cold, “-i never fall in love.”

his friends start chuckling at the back, the crowd joining in. other’s looked at you with pity having fallen for the boy in front of you but you didn't pay attention to them. you don’t even look at them. you’re still staring at him and you don’t buy a single word.

not with the way his hands are clenched at his sides. not with how his voice trembled, just barely, when he said never.

he’s lying. protecting himself the only way he knows how – by pretending not to care. trying to convince himself more than you but even knowing that doesn’t dull the sting. tears prick at the corners of your eyes, blurring the sharp lines of his face as you blink them back, forcing yourself to stay composed.

you nod once. small. almost imperceptible. a silent acknowledgment. not of belief but of acceptance.

then, carefully, you pull out the white envelope tucked in your back pocket, “this belongs to you,” you say, voice soft, barely hanging on. you hold it out to him and then you turn.

you don’t look back, running out of the gallery – out of the stares, out of the suffocating stillness that had begun to close in on you.

your vision blurs completely now, hot tears streaming freely down your face. you can’t breathe. you’re not sure if you even want to.

jaemin watches you retreat. he doesn’t call out, doesn't make an effort to stop you. he just watches.

only when you were finally out of his sight, he felt it – that sharp swell in his lungs, the ache in his chest unraveling into something hollow and brutal.

he thought it would feel satisfying to hurt you the way you hurt him. he thought having the last word would fix the damages of his broken ego and piece back the heart you shattered. but as you left he realized that parts of it were still in your hands.

the crowd begins to break apart, quiet murmurs replacing the earlier hush. now that the show’s over, their entertainment has ended and one by one, they leave, continuing on with their day, until he’s standing there alone, the envelope in his hands.

he opens it slowly, like he’s afraid of what’s inside, even though some part of him already knows.

and there it is. the photo. the one you stole from his room. the one in your four step plan. his secret.

for a split second, all he can feel is the surge of anger and betrayal, remembering everything that has happened in the past two weeks. his heart pounds in his chest, a sharp sting of violation threatening to overwhelm him.

but then, something shifts.

he looks at the photo again and it hits him – you’re giving it back to him. you’re not using it. you’re not following through with your plan to expose him. you had returned the evidence with no strings attached. you were telling him the truth.

the confessions you made, your voice trembling with sincerity, resonating in his mind.

renjun snaps him back to reality, the rest of the boys next to him, “hey, you okay?” he asks his friend, tone sharp with concern.

he forces a half-hearted laugh, voice laced with self-deprecation. “i feel like absolute shit,” he quickly tucks the envelope in his pocket, hiding it away from prying eyes, mind still reeling.

“well, i know just the cure for that,” haechan teases, slinging an arm around his neck. “a pretty girl and some drinks,” he continues, his voice is playful, trying to pull jaemin back to the surface and he’s grateful for the distraction.

“yeah, come on,” mark chimes in, grinning. “we gotta celebrate your gallery’s success!...party at the dream fraternity tonight!” he calls out, his enthusiasm infectious as cheers erupt from the crowd, a wave of excitement sweeping through the room.

jaemin feels disconnected from it all, but he can’t ignore the energy around him. he shakes his head, finally allowing himself to breathe. maybe they’re right. maybe a party is exactly what he needs. maybe he can continue to pretend that this doesn’t hurt him until it finally doesn’t.

𓏲𝄢

jaemin can’t get it up.

“i thought you were supposed to be good at this?,” the pretty girl from the gallery comments, making him sigh in frustration.

“just give me a second,” he grunts, furiously pumping his cock up and down, hoping a miracle would happen. this has never happened to him before and he’s beginning to get really worried.

“you said that five seconds ago,” she cuts in, looking at him with those judgmental eyes, like he doesn’t fucking know he said that five seconds ago. the urge to run to the doctor’s getting stronger with every second.

“you know what? just get out,” jaemin says annoyed, tossing her clothes back to her as he made his way to his bathroom, not caring at all about the girl sitting on his bed. he hears the girl scoff, followed by shuffling and a, “thanks for absolutely nothing!,” before his door slammed shut.

jaemin rolls his eyes, hopping in the shower, the lingering touches she left behind felt sticky and gross on his skin. he knew she wasn’t going to tell anyone, knowing her reputation was also on the line and he didn’t even feel bad. the girl should’ve known he wasn’t in the right mind for some ego boosting. or maybe she should’ve tried harder for him.

yikes. maybe he did deserve the heartbreak you served him with.

as he stood there, under the hot shower, his intoxicated mind can’t help but wander back to you and the time you’ve spent together.

he can’t help but remember that morning of your first night together, the innocent shower you took together as he admired your body – thoughts of your scent consuming him, the way your lips left trails of kisses, soft skin against his.

then he feels it, his cock hardening.

all it took was the memory of you, “you’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he scolds his dick.

“really?, a pretty girl on your bed and absolutely nothing from you and just one thought of her and you’re up,” he talks to his member, feeling absolutely crazy before his hand got to work – mind flashing with scenes of you and only you.

hopping out of the shower, jaemin feels a little more refreshed, his mind clearer than it was a few shots of alcohol ago. the party outside his bedroom door has now died down.

he picks his clothes up from the ground, ready to toss it into his hamper, when the envelope peaks out, reminding him of the picture.

he takes it out again, staring into his own image, the slight crumple on the top left marks the photograph, evidence of his anger. he sighs as sadness takes over once again.

flipping the image, he sees your handwriting, words that you have left behind just for him. words that has signified the mark you left on his life.

dear jaemin,

thank you for showing me this side of you. im sorry.

love,

y/n, angel, heart

it was your last confession and right away he knew what he had to do.

𓏲𝄢

“hi my lovely listeners, it’s mr. cupid here on a surprise live session, i couldn’t prolong this any longer,” jaemin’s voice filters through the mic, softer than usual.

he pauses, a shaky breath pulled in as he braces himself for the inevitable, “i haven’t been completely honest with you.”

there’s a beat of silence and then, “i have been keeping a secret and lately i’ve realized how much secret’s hurt.”

“so today, im finally telling you who i am,” jaemin continues, fingers tightening slightly around the mic stand as he braced himself.

“i am mr. cupid, your #1 go to for all things love and heartbreak but i am also third year, photography major, member of the dream fraternity,” he takes a quick pause, finding his courage, “my name is na jaemin,” he finally confesses into the microphone.

the words land like a stone thrown into still water, rippling through the space between him and the hundreds of people listening.

his inbox immediately lights up, emails flooding in. he could already see the previews. lots of surprised listeners, lots of angry listeners.

his phone quietly flickers by his side, messages from the boys swarming his screen as the group chat blows up — all of them shocked and confused.

he would have to deal with all of that later.

“i want to take this moment and apologize,” he continued, voice soft but firm, “to every girl i’ve hurt, every person i made feel disposable…i’m sorry. i wish i could remember all your names but the truth is, part of me was that player, part of me liked being that player,” he sighs in embarrassment, the weight of it all sinking in.

“—and i’m sorry for hiding behind this persona, for pretending i had it all figured out while calling out the very things i also did,” he continues, a bittersweet feeling rising in his chest.

he took care of this radio show, he wouldn’t have climbed the #1 spot if he didn’t. but every truth must be revealed someday.

“—i need you to know, i meant every word i’ve ever said on here. the advice, the stories, the moments where i told you to believe in love even when it hurts…that was all real. i was just too much of a coward in real life to admit that i wanted that too,” he continues, feeling lighter with every word.

“there’s a girl i met recently,” a nervous chuckle slips from his lips as he runs a hand through his hair, gaze unfocused, lost somewhere far beyond the studio walls.

“she knew who i was, from the very beginning” he rambles, “she had this four step plan to make me fall in love with her…the last step of her plan was to expose me but she never followed through with it,” a quiet moment passes.

“somewhere along the way, she fell for me anyway…the player, the romantic, the scared, complicated mess,” he shakes his head, a halfhearted smile tugging at his lips.

“i always thought that i had to be one or the other, turns out i was just waiting for her to freely be who i truly am,” a heavy sigh leaves him, full of everything he’s carried alone until now. his thoughts catching up to him.

“—and i really need to follow my own advice and get her back,” the words left him in a rush as he finally reached his own conclusion.

love was a strong word and unfortunately it took him a while to accept that this is what it was and it was all he wanted.

without another word, he abruptly ends the session. running out of the studio, finally seeing things clearly.

he runs, lungs burning, heart pounding. he ignores the students who were still outside this late hour, calling out his name, calling out mr. cupid, until he finally reaches your building, sweat forming around his forehead, as he tries to catch his breath.

he knocks on your door, practically pounding on it, adrenaline rushing through his veins, nerves and excitement coursing through him at the thought of seeing you again only to be met with none other than your roommate.

“oh, if it isn’t mr. cupid,” giselle greets him, voice laced with mockery, her expression twisted with subtle disdain.

“you know i was wondering why y/n was so adamant on getting revenge, i thought it was just because of what you did to me, turns out you’re not just a huge player you’re also a pro liar,” giselle continues, a pointed look on her faced, eyebrows furrows, lips pointed.

“pretending to be mr. sweet angelic guy just to be a fuckboy behind the scenes, man, how did you fool everyone?” she chuckles, almost disbelievingly.

jaemin shifts uncomfortably, his confidence briefly faltering, “giselle, im sorry,” he says, catching the girl off guard, “i do remember our night together and i’m sorry…i shouldn’t have said those words so lightly, i wasn’t thinking, just putting my needs first,” he confesses, completely owning up to his actions.

she blinks, then lets out a small, surprised laugh, “it’s fine, i just wanted to give you a tough time for what you did to y/n at the gallery,” she says, “besides, i used you that night too, we both win,” she shrugs, really not caring, “i would actually prefer it if we never talk about it again.”

jaemin nods, a quiet gratitude in his eyes for her unexpected grace, “is y/n here?,” he asks.

giselle ponders for a second or two, studying him, eyes narrowing slightly, reading him like a book until she nods, “second floor of the art building,” she says.

“thank you,” he breathes, already turning, “wait jaemin!,” giselle stops him in his tracks, “you hurt her again and i will kill you, okay pretty boy?,” she says with a sugar-sweet smile, almost like she didn’t just threaten him. it wasn’t a question, not really.

he chuckles, not entirely sure if she’s joking or not, either way, he would not like to find it.

“wouldn’t dream of it,” he replies, flashing her a smile before sprinting off.

𓏲𝄢

jaemin stepped quietly into the art room, spotting your back to him as your fingers worked like magic, brushing smoothly against the canvas seated on your easel, completely immersed in your work. he notices the iced matcha sitting on the table to your right, your paint-stained jeans and oversized t-shirt on display, hair in a messy ponytail.

even with your back turned to him, you looked so at ease, like the world had melted away and left only you and your art behind. he stood still, taking it in, wishing he had his camera with him.

content hums slip past your lips as your hand glided from your palette and the canvas. then he notices what you’re painting and he can’t look away, transfixed by the way you captured the scenery of the luscious green landscape blurred by the gentle rain, the pink and whites of the blooming cherry blossoms, opposite to the gray hues of the clouds floating on top.

it was like he had stepped into that day once again. almost like he could feel your lips on his again.

he clears his throat before finally finding his voice, “that’s beautiful.”

your head turns quickly, jumping slightly at the sound of your intruder’s voice, eyes wide with surprise. you weren’t exactly expecting anyone else to be here this late.

“jaemin?,” you question, voice uncertain, wondering what he was doing here at this hour.

“hi,” he smiles sheepishly, hands awkwardly tucked in his pockets, almost shy, as he walks closer to you, your breath stuck in your throat.

“you uhm…you have paint right here,” he points at his own cheek, mirroring the spot on yours as you quickly tried to wipe it away, missing completely.

“not quite, here let me-,” before you could protest, he closed the gap, licking his thumb and wiping the smudge away from the apple of your cheek. the moment was so intimate, his light touch igniting that spark all over again.

“thanks,” you whisper before taking a step back and trying to ground yourself.

“what are you doing here?,” you asked, voice soft.

“i was looking for you,” he responds like it was the simplest truth in the world.

“i-i thought you didn’t want to see me again?,” you say, brows furrowed in confusion.

“i thought that too,” he admits, “but as soon as you left, all i wanted to do was see you again,” he continues, looking for any signs of rejection on your face.

“how did you know i was here?,” you ask, puzzled, you never brought him here before so you wouldn’t expect him to even know it.

“i asked giselle,” he replies simply, leaving you confused, your brows knitting, “you talked to giselle?”

he chuckles slightly before saying, “i actually stopped by your place first and you weren’t there and then i got an earful from giselle about being mr. cupid and now i'm here,” giving you a quick rundown of what happened.

“wait, what? i never told her your secret,” you say, wide eyed. that’s when he realizes then that you had no idea what happened in the last hour.

“i uh…i actually finished your four step plan,” he explains and you’re left speechless, “you didn’t have to do that,” you murmur, voice soft.

“no, i did,” he quickly retorts, “it was time,” a small, genuine smile tugging at his lips.

“he wasn’t all a fake persona, you know?,” he exhales, voice laced with honesty.

“i know,” you say quickly, eyes meeting his. “i saw him,” voice filled with sincerity, “fell in love with him,” you whisper into the night air, making him look up, hope flickering behind his eyes.

“i thought i had to hide that side of me,” he admits, “i’ve been very aware of the whole fuckboy label and yeah…i got caught up in the ‘cool’ image of it all. it was easier to be who everyone expected me to be, it’s stupid, i know,” he smiles softly, his words reflecting your confession.

“but that’s not why i came here tonight,” his eyes find yours, unwavering.

“i'm sorry about what i said earlier at the gallery,” he adds softly and you shake your head before he can go on, “it’s okay jaemin, i get it, i know why said it, it’s not like i didn’t deserve it,” you reassure him.

“no,” he says, a little firmer this time, “it’s not okay because it wasn’t true and i'm tired of all the lies between us so…here it goes,” he takes a breath, almost like he’s steadying himself.

“you’re not the only one who fell,” he says, a quiet smile forming, tender and nervous,“i did too.”

“—and i’m pretty sure i hit the ground way before you did,” he pauses.

you looked at him like he had somehow brought the stars to you and that was all the courage he needed to continue.

“i think white looks perfect with pink, i’m not a big fan of matcha iced tea but i’d still love to see my glass of americano sitting next to yours, and i am completely, stupidly, undeniably in love with you,” he confesses, voice steady and full of conviction, “that’s what i should’ve said earlier.”

you blink, heart pounding, the corners of your lips lifting into a smile you can’t fight, every emotion rushing to the surface.

“better late than never, right?,” you softly tease, making him chuckle before finally taking a step closer. this time, you don’t move away.

“you told me i didn’t have to ask,” he whispers and then he kisses you, soft and certain, and full of emotion.

for the first time since he walked out of your bedroom, angry and overwhelmed, jaemin feels like he could finally breathe again.

his hands gently make their way to your cheeks, deepening the kiss as yours clasped around his neck, pulling him in closer.

“god, i love you,” jaemin whispers against your lips as he moves down to litter kisses on that spot below your ear, eliciting a breathy whine from you.

“i love you too,” you whisper in his ear, large hands making their way behind your thighs as jaemin picks you up, sitting you on the long wooden table, now eye to eye level, his lips were back on yours in an instant, as he stood in the place between your legs.

you could feel his growing bulge against your thigh, making you dizzy, “jaemin, i need you,” you whine desperately. he gives in to your request quickly, no longer wanting to deny the pleasure coursing in between your bodies.

unzipping your pants, he slides it down, before pushing your panties to the side and shoving two fingers in, “so fucking tight, angel,” he groans as his fingers curl drawing out breathy moans from your lips as you tried to be as quiet as possible, afraid someone would walk in. usually no one was here during this time but you could never be too sure, you were still in a public place after all.

you could feel the tension in your stomach rise, heat starting to travel down to your toes, but you needed more, “please, n-need you now,” you plead, “you sure angel? it might hurt,” he grunts, his fingers brushing your walls repetitively, trying to prepare you as much as he can.

no longer able to wait, your hand reached for the wallet in his back pocket as you took out the condom you knew he always carried.

jaemin’s pants falls to the ground, pooling around his ankles, his boxers soon to follow as you wrapped the condom around his throbbing cock, the warmth of your hands making him groan into your shoulder as he tried to control the urge to bust right then and there, “have i told you how much effect you have on me?,” he grunts.

“show me,” you whisper, kissing that soft spot below his ear.

“you make me so fucking crazy,” he says, looking you in the eyes as he pushed his tip in your entrance. you bite back your moans, the expression on your face between pleasure and pain as you looked up at him, trying your best not to shut your eyes at the way he was slowly expanding your walls, pussy molding to the shape of his large cock.

“fucckk, you feel so fucking good,” he compliments as he bottoms in, tip kissing your cervix, your shared moans mixing in the air as you burrowed your head in his shoulder, leaving trails of wet, sloppy kisses, trying to distract yourself from the pain of the stretch.

“missed your pussy so much,” he whines. carefully, he pulls the hair tie out of your ponytail, letting your hair fall freely down your shoulders as he starts thrusting, setting a slow pace. you were so incredibly tight around him, he knew he had to be gentle, “so fucking pretty,” he whispers, watching your every reaction.

“d-don’t stop,” you sigh, getting used to his size, as he continues to thrust in and out, the slow pace becoming more addicting with every push. jaemin’s warm hands gripping your hips, massaging slow circles around your thighs, the added pressure adding on to the coil tightening in your stomach as your body arched up, hips starting to move in rhythm with his.

“faster, jaemin,” you moan. his name spilling from your lips immediately increases his speed as your hands rest on the table, trying to stabilize yourself. moans heighten as the sound of skin slapping echoes throughout the room. you don’t even care about wandering ears anymore, or what would happen if a professor happened to catch the two of you in this position.

all you cared about was this high — the way his cock seemed to be made for you, hitting that spot that makes you feel like you’re sitting on a cloud as angels sang all around you. jaemin feels the same way, absolutely lost in the feeling only you could give him.

it was getting harder to keep it together as he starts losing his rhythm, “i’m c-close, angel,” he grunts, finger finding your sensitive bud, rubbing slow but harsh circles, “cum with me, please,” he groans and it was enough to snap the coil in your stomach, eyes rolling back, pussy gripping his cock as you gave into the pleasure that is na jaemin.

𓏲𝄢

it’s been a week since that night that brought you back together. a week filled with “i love you’s,” and everything sickeningly sweet.

the boys have all apologized to you, spilling repetitive sorry’s about their behavior. forgiveness came easy. especially since you knew they were only like that because of how much they loved him and you were happy jaemin had people like them on his side.

mr. cupid became “love, na jaemin” — jaemin decided to continue it after emails upon emails of request from his viewers to come back. this time, he promised complete honesty, no longer hiding behind the fake persona. the show was back to #1 spot within a day, everyone loving this side of him even more.

there were still parties, almost every night, but instead of sneaking around with random women, jaemin had you by his side every single time — hand wrapped in yours, playful stolen kisses all over your skin, dancing and laughter. and in the days where you couldn’t go to a party, he’d simply have fun with the boys before retiring into his room alone, preferring to facetime you on the phone.

today, jaemin surprised you with a picnic. the sky was painted with soft blues and golden sun, a warm breeze curling through your hair as you sat on the picnic blanket in the park. he pulls out a bag filled with two mini canvases and a small set of watercolor.

“what’s all this?,” you giggle, as he hands you your canvas.

“i saw it on tiktok, we have to paint each other and then show each other the results,” he explains excitedly, a sparkle dancing in his eyes, like a kid getting a new toy.

“winner gets whatever they want!,” he continues, explaining the rules as you laughed, “you know i’m gonna win, right?,” you tease, raising a brow.

“hey! you’ve never seen me paint, you don’t know that,” he cutely defends himself, a pout on his lips.

“okay baby, you’re right, sorry,” you giggle, kissing his pout away, frown instantly melting into a bright smile.

“quit distracting me, angel” he said softly, grinning as he picked up his brush.

the two of you fall into a comfortable silence as you start, eyes flicking between your painting and each other. the air was filled with quiet focus and unspoken affection. you could feel it in the way his gaze lingered on you, the way your fingers moved slowly, like trying to capture every piece of him with love.

but while you were focused on painting him, jaemin had a different mission entirely.

he knew you were going to win, of course you were. this was just his little ploy to finally make you his girlfriend. a week has been long enough and he was starting to go crazy every time he wanted to call you his girlfriend but couldn’t. he’s never wanted to the boyfriend title so badly in his life.

he kicked himself over and over, wondering why he didn’t just ask you during his confession but that night was powered through by overwhelming emotions of love, hope and desire that the words had slipped his mind.

since then, nothing had felt romantic enough and you deserve to be asked properly…in the most special way. and he has finally figured out how.

after a couple more minutes of painting you break the silence, “i think im done,” you announce, setting your brush down with a satisfied smile.

he glances up at you, pretending to be busy as he continues to paint the background of his artwork, “hmm, give me one more second,” he chimes before adding his final touch.

“okay, you ready?,” he wiggles his eyebrows as you nod, your heart fluttering.

3…2…1…

you both flip your canvases, showing each other your board. your eyes immediately widen as you process the words written on his board in bold, messy paint: will you be my girlfriend? — decorated by a ton of pink and red hearts.

a happy squeal escapes your lips as you launch yourself at him, sending him back onto the picnic blanket. you pepper his face with soft kisses, laughter bubbling from both of you.

“yes, yes, yes, of course i’ll be your girlfriend!” you say happily, dreamily. he was laughing too, arms wrapped around you, holding you close like he never wanted to let go.

“by the way, i want to go to busan again,” you smile up at him, letting him know that you still win. he breaks into a soft laughter, “whatever my angel wants, my angel gets,” he says, kissing you softly, sweetly and full of promise.

jaemin swears he’s in heaven — laying under the open sky with the girl of his dreams, the girl who he loves and loves him, and the word finally echoing in his heart.

𓏲 the end.

—

an: ahhh! if you’ve made it this far thank you so so much for reading <3 i wish you all find yourself a na jaemin (the real na jaemin of course, he’s better than the one written here lol >.<) while i have you! please please please help me decide who’s story to write next by voting here -> click!

likes, reblogs and comments are not required but is very appreciated ⏦ﾟ♡︎

[n0hyuck]

[n0hyuck]

“FLYING KISS”

pairing: childhood best friend! lee jeno x nerd! reader | genre: rom-com | words: 23k

synopsis -> you and lee jeno go way back, as in diapers and all that. before he was known as the chill fuckboy, he was an all time nerd! just like you! tired of being a loser who can’t even get the guy you wanted, you badly needed tips and a makeover. who’s better to ask for help than your childhood best friend, who has proven that a nerd can be hot?

warnings -> guaranteed giddiness! pet name unlocked: bunny, two dumb idiots, jeno is a yearner!!!, slow burn? kinda but once it starts, it starts, mentions of: car crash, a deceased parent, too many side characters from other groups, +18, crude language, mentions of fuck-boys, parties, drinking, a fight between the boys, blood, a nasty cut, heavy on the smut! reader is a virgin, lots of fingering, oral (m+f), handjob, blowjob, mention of mutual masturbation, corruption kink, pop the cherry!, soft sex, exhibitionism, jeno is a dirty dirty boy with lots of dirty thoughts and a dirty mouth.

an -> the second installment of the loverboy series is yours! this one literally just flowed through me, i could not stop writing, squealing and giggling at this trope. i’m dreading leaving them behind. you do not need to read stupid cupid to understand this story but here are some important things to take note of: 1) jeno is the chill fuckboy, he does not like the whole hopping to one girl to another thing so he gets into a lot of meaningless situationships with girls he does not care about 2) jaemin is currently the only happily taken member of the dream fraternity, he calls his gf: angel. k, have fun reading, with love, c!

the library buzzed with the soft hum of university life filled with quiet chatter, the occasional laugh and the rustling of pages. there were small groups of friends in heated discussions, catching up on life or laughing over a joke. some were hunched over textbooks, deep in concentration, others were lost in their books, barely blinking, while a few had surrendered to sleep, heads resting on their arms. and, tucked away in the back, were the ones who thought they were subtle – furtive glances, sneaky touches, stolen kisses.

there was a place for everyone in the library and it was your favorite place in the entire world.

but right now, as you watch your long-time crush, third year business major, the soccer team’s mvp, jung sungchan, stick his tongue down a random girl’s throat, you can’t help but feel like your safe haven has been tainted.

the grip you had on your pencil tightens as your eyebrows furrowed at the scene that played out, jealousy taking over your features. out of all the places on campus, he had to choose your spot. you have half the mind to report to the librarian. you were already classified as the school’s nerd, why not add snitch to your dictionary?

“what’s that look on your face?,” your best friend’s voice pulled you back to earth, playful, as he plopped down on the seat next to you.

jeno has been fated to be your best friend way before you were even born. with your dad’s being the best of friends, it was written in the stars, whether you liked it or not.

but you liked it, and so did he.

if it wasn’t for jeno, you might have ended up a complete social outcast. thanks to his status and the fact that you were always seen together, people decided you were tolerably weird. you weren’t nose-picking weird or talking to yourself in the hallways weird, just…a little awkward.

and if it wasn’t for you, jeno probably wouldn't have made it into university to begin with. you tutored him in almost every class, every time he struggled with anything school related, he ran to you, from elementary school to university, you were practically his teacher.

they say university is supposed to be the place where you let go of your childhood self and finally grow up. yet here you are now, a third year student and you still haven't quite grown into the lady you were supposed to be. trends went over your head, fashion didn’t interest you and makeup was harder than your architect class. half your wardrobe was made up of high school leftovers, you were still sporting bangs that you had from middle school and you never really saw the point in “fixing yourself up.”

at least, one of you did — jeno somehow made his way into the dream fraternity and somehow earned the title the chill fuckboy. it was odd, seeing people start treating him differently. even odder when you started to see girl’s eyes follow him like he was some kind of lead in a main k-drama and then land on you with a confused gaze. like they couldn’t understand why he was friends with someone like you.

“nothing,” you say quickly, finally tearing your eyes away from sungchan and forcing your attention on the assignment in front of you.

jeno, not satisfied with your answer, followed your earlier gaze, a light chuckle slipping past his lips, “aww, does my little bunny wunny have a crush?,” he cooed, reaching over to pinch your cheek, his trademark eye smile on display.

bunny was the nickname he had given you when you both were eight years old. in some twisted doom, like you were always going to be life’s punching bag, all your baby teeth fell out at the same time, leaving only the two front teeth behind. these days, he throws in a ridiculous wunny at the end just to piss you off.

“shut up jeno,” you scowl, swatting his hand away and adjusting your glasses back into place.

he chuckles, unfazed, before pulling out his own assignments and settling in beside you. a comfortable silence draping over the two of you, easy and familiar.

but your mind was still reeling. you wanted, so badly, to be the girl who was kissing sungchan instead of the nerd he only acknowledged when he needed answers for a test. you wanted to hold his hand, to walk around campus with him, to be the one sitting in the back of the library.

you wanted to be the girl that people wanted to be.

your gaze drifts to your best friend. jeno hadn’t always been this effortlessly put-together, with his hair perfectly styled, clothes fitting him properly, and those annoying sculpted arms that somehow always had a girl clinging to them.

you’re reminded of a different version of him – the times when you had matching glasses, his head way too big for his body, the endless rotation of naruto and pokemon t-shirts he always had on and the way he would stutter every time a pretty girl would even look at his direction.

if he could grow into the handsome, confident man he is now, why couldn’t you?

and then, just like that, a lightbulb flickers on.

“...neno,” you call out to him, sweetly.

jeno eyes you with immediate suspicion, you only use that nickname when you want something from him, “what?,” he asks, an eyebrow raised.

“we’re best friends, right?,” you ask, innocently blinking up at him.

“is the sky blue???,” he shoots back, voice dripping with playful sarcasm. you ignore it, too caught up in the plan buzzing in your head.

“so, as my best friend, you’d do anything for me, right?,” you press, excitement coursing through.

he narrows his eyes, “that depends on what you’re about to ask from me,” he says, looking at you with a mixture of suspicion and mild horror.

“make me hot,” you say, dead serious.

jeno chokes on absolutely nothing, eyes going wide as the words hit him, “what?!.” he hisses, half-whisper, half-scream, as if you just confessed to a felony. a few heads turned your way and you can’t help but blush under the sudden attention.

“you’re so dramatic!,” you whisper, shrinking behind your books. all your previous confidence, going down the drain as you finally realized what you just asked him to do.

jeno charmingly waves, muttering his apologies until the curious stares faded and the library’s usual hush returned.

“y/n,” he said, suddenly serious, gaze locked on you, “what do you mean by ‘make you hot’?” his entire focus on you.

you sigh, heat crawling up your neck, “nevermind, jeno, it’s nothing,” you say, grabbing the nearest book, hoping to bury this conversation along with your pride.

before you could turn a page, jeno snatches it away from you, “hey, no secrets between us remember,” he said, gently but firmly.

you stared at the table, lips pressed into a thin line, weighing the embarrassment against the aching truth in your chest, “i just meant…help me be desirable, i’m tired of being a nerd, jeno. i just want someone to look at me and think i’m pretty,” you admit, too embarrassed to look him in the eye.

“i think you’re pretty, bunny,” he says quietly.

you groaned, immediately burying your face in your hands. this was too embarrassing. you felt like you were fishing for compliments.

“ugh, you’re only saying that because you’re my best friend and our dads will literally kill you if you don’t,” you say, voice muffled by the table below you.

jeno chuckles lightly beside you, “i’m not just saying that.”

you sit back up slowly, looking him dead in the eye, “jeno, i’ve never been asked out, never held hands with someone, hell, i’ve never even kissed anyone,” you reason, head plopping back into your chair.

“—that’s not true!, you’ve kissed me,” he points out earning an eye roll from you.

“jeno we were 14 and i kissed you like how i would kiss my mom,” you say, “it doesn’t count,” you shut your eyes, silently begging the universe to erase this entire moment from existence.

but your words lingered in jeno’s head – the quiet desperation in your voice, the way your eyes had pleaded without meaning to and before he could even think twice, his mouth moved on its own.

“i’ll see what i can do,” he said. your eyes flew open, locking onto his with a sparkle that transferred over to his own.

“thank you, neno,” you grinned, ruffling his hair with a smirk, excitement bubbling through you.

he groaned in protest, batting your hands away but the smile tugging at his lips betrayed him.

a second later, his phone flashes on his side. one glance at the screen and he was already gathering his things, “gotta go, lia texted,” he said, slinging his bag over his shoulder.

you nodded, smiling up at him, “have fun, don’t get pregnant,” you teased.

he chuckled, messing your hair up on his way out, “no promises,” he winked, making your face scrunch up in disgust. the image of your best friend having sex was not appealing at all.

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎

after spending a couple of hours buried in his current situationship’s legs, jeno finally made his way back to the dream house.

the conversation you had in the library constantly playing in his mind as he quickly barges into jaemin’s room, “dude-i oh…sorry!,” his eyes widen, apologizing as he redirects his stare at the ceiling, but doesn’t make an effort to leave.

jaemin scrambles to wrap the blanket around his girlfriend, who is currently face down, ass up with his dick still inside her, “dude!, get out!?,” he yells furiously, throwing a pillow at him.

“i need to ask you something,” jeno says, making jaemin groan, “can you ask me later?, im busy,” he grunts, his girlfriend still clenching tightly around him.

“oh…yeah, sorry…hi angel,” jeno mutters out, a playful smile on his lips before leaving and locking the door behind him, hearing an embarrassed, muffled, “hi jeno,” from jaemin’s girlfriend, on his way out.

“learn to lock the door!,” he laughed from the other side, the sound of skin slapping resuming as he made his way down the living room.

for the past few hours, your words had been playing on a loop in his head. he wasn’t sure where to start or how to go about helping you. not because he didn’t want to but because he’d never realized you needed that kind of help.

sure, he noticed that there were never any boys around, other than him, but he thought you preferred it that way. always scowling in disgust when a guy tries to get near you or even breathe the same air as you.

and besides the fact that he wanted to repay you for always helping him without asking for anything in return, he’d always thought you were pretty.

when you were six, with a scraped knee, and tear streaked cheeks after falling as you chased after his hamster who escaped - pretty.

when you were eight, missing all your teeth except the two in the front, food always ending up smeared all over your face - pretty.

when you were eleven, threatening all his bullies to stay away from him or you would call your dad - pretty.

when you were fourteen and you kissed him because you were curious why your parents were always kissing - so pretty.

when you were fifteen, drowning in a pink puffy dress that ate you up whole - ridiculous, but pretty.

when you were sixteen, at your mom’s funeral, crying on his shoulder, not allowing anyone else near you but him - hauntingly pretty.

when you were eighteen and you both had gotten your acceptance letters for university, excitedly jumping around together - pretty.

when you were twenty and crashed his car because you thought there was a dog on the road, only for it to be the shadow of the tree you crashed into - annoying, but still so damn pretty.

as your best friend, he wants you to see yourself the way he saw you.

if this was what it took to help you finally claim your confidence, then he’d do whatever it takes to make sure it worked. whether or not this was about impressing that boy you liked, he didn’t care. he just wanted to help you feel more sure of yourself.

an hour passed before jaemin finally joined him in the living room, immediately punching him in the arm, “learn to knock,” he huffs out before sitting next to his friend.

jeno chuckles, rubbing his arm, “i didn’t see anything, promise,” he turns to his friend, “you better not have or i’ll literally scoop your eyes out and feed it to you,” his friend grunts making him scrunch up in disgust.

“that’s disgusting,” jeno comments, the mental image making both of them squirm before bursting out into laughter.

“so what did you need?,” jaemin asks as soon as their laughter dies down.

“i actually need your girlfriend’s help,” he smiles sheepishly, piquing the other boy’s curiosity.

“with what?,” jaemin asks.

“with y/n,” jeno says before jaemin nods, getting up to get his girlfriend out of his room and into the living room. the rest of the boys knew who you were, of course, and as jeno had requested, they all looked out for you.

jaemin’s girlfriend listens intently at the plan jeno had - a makeover. he knew he needed a girl’s touch since he didn’t really know anything about the work that girls put into themselves to make them look ‘hot’.

he could argue he thought they just came that way. just like how you have always been pretty.

“well, im kind of done with all of that makeover and stuff,” she briefly smiles at her boyfriend, “but i do know the perfect girl,” shes says smiling, as jeno notes down the girls’ name, paying her a visit.

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎

two days later, jeno came prepared. plopping down in his usual seat in the library, right next to you, armed with a notepad that was opened to the page:

operation bunny’s glow-up

step 1: the makeover

step 2: closet cleanse and wardrobe upgrade

step 3: posture, confidence and flirting 101

step 4: bunny’s party reveal

you blinked at the notebook in front of you, registering the words written in jeno’s extremely neat handwriting, “what is this?”

“this,” he said, tapping the page, “is how i'm going to help you,” jeno explains.

there were too many steps and you’re suddenly so very aware how ridiculous this actually was, “can we just magically skip to step four where i’m already pretty and perfect and partying?,” you sigh, already feeling exhausted.

jeno almost wants to scold you for thinking you weren’t already pretty and perfect but remembered this is why he was doing this in the first place. to make sure you know you were pretty and perfect.

instead he says, “nope, this is a full process. you asked for my help and that’s what you’re getting, no backing out and definitely no easy way out.”

the sternness in his voice made you realize how serious he was about this. “you’re really gonna do all this for me, neno?,” you ask, a hint of gratitude shining in your eyes.

“of course i am, that’s what best friends are for,” he shrugs, ruffling your hair once again.

which is how you ended up here, seated in a salon chair with the girl you met just a couple minutes ago, your best friend leaving you all by your awkward self with no other than — giselle, third year cosmetology major and one of the school’s hottest girls.

her preppy personality was overwhelming, confidence radiating off her like perfume. you had no idea how to interact with her, no clue how any girl could be so aware of her beauty and completely own it the way she did.

it’s almost unfair how nice she was too. hot, popular girls were supposed to be mean, rude, intolerable. that’s how they’re portrayed in every teen movie you’ve seen. but giselle is kind, easygoing, talked to you like you weren't several social status’ below her in the pyramid you’ve made up.

“alright, so we’re gonna make sure your hair frames for your face perfectly and get rid of all your split ends,” she explains, hands already in motion as she fluffs your hair out, moving it around, parting it here and there to visualize what looks best on you.

once she figured it out, she let out a satisfied hum and got to work. the scissors glide gracefully, almost like they were an extension of her fingers and you can’t help but be mesmerized.

“so, how did you and jeno meet?,” she asks, casually starting the conversation as her hands continue to move through your hair.

“uhm, our parents are best friends,” you mumble, trying not to sound as stiff as you feel.

“ooh, that’s fun!,” she comments and you’re not entirely sure if she means it or if she’s just trying to be polite. either way, you appreciate her effort.

“and you’ve never had a crush on him?,” she adds, eyebrows raised. the shock on your face is evident, the very idea of having a crush on your best friend making your stomach twist.

“uhh no, i’ve never seen him that way,” you reply, a shudder slipping down your spine.

giselle laughs, clearly amused, “i see,” she hums, “your best friend is hot though, you know?,” you smile up at her, nodding, blush creeping up your cheeks.

of course you knew people considered jeno hot but you’re not entirely sure you agree with that statement.

he was the same boy who was crying to you because his hamster escaped, the same boy who got his braces stuck in your sweater, the same boy who ran away when you kissed him, the same boy who almost cried when your acceptance letter came in the mail first, his nowhere to be seen until a week later – your best friend was cute, the same way a puppy was cute.

“soo, who do you think is hot?,” she asks, playful curiosity dancing in her eyes.

is this what girl talk is?

“uhmm,” you shy away under her friendly gaze. you’ve never really had anyone to talk to about boys. with your mom passing away at an early age and all your girlfriends more interested in their anime crushes than real ones, this kind of conversation feels like uncharted territory.

“don’t worry, i'm really good at keeping secrets,” she says, urging you to go on. there’s something about her aura that you trust. and you knew that if jeno didn’t trust her, he wouldn’t have left you alone with her in the first place. so for the first time in your life, you indulge in girl talk.

“i think umm…i think sungchan is hot,” you mutter, shy, eyes immediately darting to the floor.

she gasps, an exaggerated, delighted sound, “i totally agree” she says giggling, “you have great taste,” she giggles. then, leaning in with excitement, she whispers, “i’m gonna make sure sungchan falls in love with you.”

you glance at her reflection in the mirror and despite yourself, a smile appears on your face, giddy and a little disbelieving.

“and…we’re done with your hair!,” she announces, your focus darting at your own reflection. your eyes widen slightly. she made your hair look like what you would see in the magazines – sleek, soft, effortlessly perfect.

the change in your appearance already reflecting back at you.

“this is just the beginning,” she whispers again, a friendly smile displayed on her lips.

she gently reclines the chair you were sitting on then tilts your chin up with practiced fingers, her eyes scanning your face with focused curiosity as she takes your glasses off, “hmm, okay,” she murmurs, turning your face side to side. you can’t help but feel awkward, gaze drifting everywhere else, avoiding eye contact.

“okay…i’m just gonna clean up your brows, and wax a little peach fuzz if that’s okay?,” she asks, voice light and reassuring. you nod, unsure what all that means but trusting her anyway.

giselle gets to work immediately, a new tool in her hand, and wax paper placed on your upper lip and in just twenty minutes, she steps back, satisfied.

your face looks softer…more defined. more you, somehow.

“you’re so pretty, y/n,” she says warmly, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, “and we barely did anything.”

the compliment hits you harder than you expect. pretty wasn’t a word you would ever describe yourself yet here is one of the most beautiful girls you’ve ever seen calling you that. tears sting the corner of your eyes before you can blink them away.

“c’mon,” she says, voice still gentle but laced with excitement, “we’re not done, grab your stuff, we're going somewhere.”

after spending exactly thirty-two minutes in giselles car, singing along to the radio and laughing at her endless stream of chaotic stories, which you thought was something you’d never ever do, you were now at the mall. more specifically, standing in front of a waxing salon.

you shoot her a nervous glance, eyes wide with suspicion.

“i figured you’d be more comfortable with a stranger you’d never have to see again,” she says with a casual shrug, and suddenly it clicks why you’re here.

you knew what a waxing salon was, you just never thought you’d voluntarily stepped foot into one.

“this is my go-to, they get everything and it doesn’t hurt that bad,” she promises, reassuring, and you swore you look like a tomato with how much you’re blushing.

when giselle said they get everything, she meant they get everything.

even body parts that you didn’t think would have hair on them, body parts that no one else has seen but your own eyes. you almost can’t believe you were in this position right now, but giselle was right – a stranger was better for this. the only thing keeping you from bolting was the comforting knowledge that you’d never have to make eye contact with the person who was currently in between your legs again.

after an hour and several compromising positions later, you were finally done. your skin felt smoother than a baby’s, which was honestly kind of mind-blowing.

giselle was waiting for you at the reception, a bag in her hand, her eyes lighting up as soon as she saw you, “okay!, so i got you a little starter kit filled with makeup, skincare and all the other essentials,” she said, practically bouncing, “let’s go back to my place and i’ll teach you how to use it!”

her excitement was infectious and you couldn’t help but smile just as wide – her bubbly energy sinking into your bones in the best way.

making your way to giselle’s bedroom, you notice how different your rooms were. while yours was covered with posters and music records from all your favorite bands, her’s was covered in magazine clippings of what you assumed are the most popular fashion trends.

while your shelves were filled with books of all genres, she had an entire shelf dedicated to makeup and skincare products. another filled with several handbags and shoes. you weren’t even aware that girls had to have that many.

“sit, my canvas,” she says, lightly teasing, pointing to the chair in front of her vanity mirror as she pulls things out of the bag she gave you.

“we’re keeping it simple, just the basics: primer, foundation, brows, blush, and lipstick of course.”

you nod like you understood anything she was saying. she caught the panic in your eyes and smiled softer this time, “don’t worry,” she said, uncapping a small bottle of primer, “i got you.”

she talked you through every step. primer, foundation, blending like your life depended on it. she filled in one of your brows and handed you the pencil, urging you to try it out yourself. you tried to mimic her, hand shaky, tongue slightly poking out in concentration. this was definitely harder than she made it out to be.

“you’re a natural,” she says, satisfied with your work and you can feel your confidence growing with every second you spend with her. it’s as if she was sharing the amount of confidence she had with you.

by the end of it, you stared at yourself in the mirror and barely recognized your own reflection. not because the makeup was dramatic, it wasn’t, but because you looked like someone who belonged.

like someone who chose how she wanted to be seen.

“there…you look beautiful,” giselle murmurs behind you, chin resting lightly on your shoulder, “i have one last thing for you,” she says, reaching for another bag and you’re not sure how you could ever repay her for all of this.

as if she could read your thoughts, she quickly says, “don’t worry about it, jeno paid for it”

“glasses can be hot, but the ones you have now, completely hides your face so…,” she pulls out two things, “first, i got you these silver ones, they’re smaller but they’ll sit on your face better,” she hands it to you.

you take them, fingers brushing over the smooth metal. the glasses were cute, not your usual style, but when you slipped them on and looked in the mirror, you instantly understood what she meant. they frame your features instead of swallowing them whole.

giselle pats herself on the back, clearly happy with her decision, “and if you’re feeling a little braver,” she trails off, pulling out the last item, “-contact lenses, i asked jeno for your prescription so those should be good, they’re pretty easy to put on too but just in case, i’ll message you a youtube video with step by step instructions,” she smiles at you, soft and sincere.

and you can’t hold it in anymore. her kind actions pull at your heartstrings as the dam breaks – tears sliding down your cheeks before you can stop them.

“thank you, giselle,” you say in full gratitude, voice thick with emotion.

“of course,” she whispers, her eyes matching yours as she pulls you into a hug.

“-now stop crying, okay, makeup is expensive,” she says, laughing as she wipes at her own damp lashes. you both burst into giggles, the room light again despite the weight in your heart.

and then a knock makes its way to her bedroom door, echoing throughout her room.

giselle quickly fixes your tear stained cheeks, “alright, if you ever need anything else, just let me know okay?,” she says, and you nod, thankful for her kindness.

“let's see what your best friend has to say,” she squeals as she rushes over to the door, swinging it open and revealing jeno on the other side.

you hadn’t even thought about how jeno would react or how other people would take in your new appearance. you suddenly felt extremely nervous. he was the first person who was going to see you like this — you wanted him to react well.

jeno steps into the room, hands in the pockets of his hoodie, expression casual until he sees you and suddenly he feels like every air has been knocked out of his lungs.

you have always been pretty but right now you look absolutely, breathtakingly, beautiful.

he realizes he’s been staring in silence for too long when he notices you shift in your seat, the words, “what?,” slipping from your lips, almost harsh, trying to sound casual.

he blinks a few times, gulping “n-nothing y-you just look–,”

“different?,” you complete his sentence, afraid he will start teasing you. his stare becomes more uncomfortable with every second of silence that passes.

“-r-really p-pretty,” he finally manages to say. a smile takes over your features, his compliment completely blowing away the feelings of doubt that were starting to cloud.

jeno almost wants to beat himself up for stuttering so much.

“ahh, my work here is done,” giselle beams, looking in between you with a knowing look only she knew the meaning of. she clapped like she’s the proud host of a makeover show, as she should. jeno clears his throat, immediately reminded that you both had an audience.

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎

a soft knock echoed at your dorm room’s door, followed by jeno’s familiar voice. when you opened it, you caught the tiny flicker in his eyes. he was still trying to get used to your new appearance. its been two days since giselle’s successful makeover and he still hasn’t fully adjusted to this version of you.

but it was time to start step two of the operation - closet cleanse and wardrobe upgrade.

“wait,” you say, squinting at him, “you’re the one that’s gonna look at my clothes?,” you say, bewildered.

what did jeno know about ladies’ fashion?

“yeah, who else would it be?,” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

“i don't know, i thought you would’ve brought giselle or another one of your lady friends,” you mumbled as he casually made himself at home on your bed.

he grinned, flopping back against your pillows like he owned the place, “nope, just me, don’t worry…i know what looks good,” he says, a playful smile on his lips as you eyed him suspiciously, “and how exactly are you going to rate my clothes?,” you ask.

he shrugs, “i’ll figure it out as we go, now come on, show me what you got,” he says, making himself comfortable in your sheets.

truthfully, his rating was completely unscientific and wildly biased. he was judging your clothes based on the question: if a girl walked by in this outfit, would i say hi?

and he knows damn well that if you ever found out you were being styled based on his imaginary dream girl, you’d kick him right where the sun won't shine. so he kept that little detail to himself.

“ugh, okay,” you groaned, giving in as you started taking your clothes out of your wardrobe and holding them up for him.

jeno leaned back, arms folded behind his head, watching you with an amused glint in his eyes. he was way too comfortable in your space but then again, he always had been.

one by one you pulled clothes from your closet – the shirts you’ve had since middle school, some with funky patterns, others just straight up horrendous. pants with weird patterns and those that didn’t help accentuate your figure at all.

for once, you were thankful for being one of the lucky ones who didn’t have a roommate. no one else needed to witness this humiliation.

jeno, however, was getting the full show. he has never realized how bad your wardrobe was until now. each new item of clothing you pulled out seemed to be worse than the last. and then came the final blow.

the naruto and pokemon shirts. his oversized naruto and pokemon shirts. jeno’s jaw slacks open, like the very memory of those shirts carried his own personal trauma, “why the hell do you have those?!,” he blurted, sitting up like he’d just seen a ghost.

“your dad gave them to me when you outgrew them, i just kept them,” you shrug.

“burn it.” his voice was flat, non-negotiable.

“what?! no!, these are comfortable and i like wearing them to sleep!,” you defend, clutching the shirts like they were priceless heirlooms. jeno stares at you wide eyed, expression teetering somewhere between disgust and betrayal “you cannot let anyone see you in those,” he says, deadly serious, making you chuckle.

“stop being so dramatic, i bet if you wore these now, people would think it’s cool,” you say and jeno shakes his head furiously, like he can't even fathom the idea of ever wearing it again, “no, absolutely not, i’ve buried that version of myself. deep.”

“well, i’m not burning them!,” you declare, shoving the shirts deep into your drawer, making sure he can’t pull it out behind your back.

by the end of it you had two piles. the “i guess that’s okay” pile and the “don’t ever wear that again, that’s going straight to donation,” pile which was unfortunately about three times bigger.

“jeno, i have like no clothes left!,” you say, plopping down on the bed next to him, limbs heavy with defeat.

your room looked like it was run through by a tornado, clothes scattered in every corner.

without a word, jeno pulls you into his arms, fingers brushing your hair out of your face with an ease that only comes from years of friendship, “we’re gonna go shopping,” he murmurs against your temple, “it’s gonna be fine.”

you let yourself melt into his side with a sigh, “okay, but like…in five minutes, i’m too tired to even attempt being a hot girl right now,” he chuckles softly and you feel the sound more than you hear it, sleep tugging you under.

jeno lets his eyes flutter shut too, a small contented smile on his lips.

five minutes, she said. he’d give her ten.

ten minutes turned into three hours and you woke up with your legs tangled with the boy beside you, “neno,” you groaned, shoving him off of you, “you’re so fucking heavy,” you whine.

jeno slowly wakes up, blinking the sleep away as he sluggishly rubbed at his eyes, “fuck, what time is it?,” he says before reaching out for his phone and answering his own question.

it was only 6PM, still plenty of time to run to the mall and get you your new upgraded outfits.

and exactly thirty minutes later, jeno was dragging you around all the stores with the latest fashion trends. you didn’t even know your best friend knew these stores existed, “how do you know so much about this?” you ask him, eyeing him suspiciously.

he shot you a grin over his shoulder, “well, i do listen to every girl i talk to, you know” he points out and you’re reminded of the fact that your sweet, nerdy best friend was also one of the university’s hot, sexy, fuck-boy.

you rolled your eyes, “gross.” you still can’t believe he even has that reputation. wanting to smack yourself every time you get reminded of it. how could your glasses-wearing, braces-clad, cried-over-a-hamster best friend turn into some kind of lady killer? it didn’t feel real.

“hey, it’s called research,” he teased, “gotta keep them interested somehow.”

he grabs a shopping cart, pulling at everything he thought looked nice on the mannequins, as well as a couple of pieces of clothing that fit his previous criteria.

you follow him around like a lost child. you don’t even remember the last time you had a shopping trip and bought something for yourself. you were usually only here to buy gifts or if you’re forced to buy new underwear.

after a while of aimlessly wandering as jeno does all the work, you find yourself in the dressing room, a shopping bag filled with clothes in your arm.

now here you were, staring at your reflection in pure disbelief. the first matching outfit jeno picked out was a tiny pink skirt and an even tinier pink crop top that left your midriff exposed, “uhhm, jeno i dont know about this one,” you say from the other side of the door, nervous.

“step out, let me see,” he says, patiently sitting outside of your dressing room stall, voice relaxed, clearly unbothered.

slowly, hesitantly, your fingers hover over the lock before unlocking the door, debating on whether or not you should let him see you in this ridiculous outfit that is showing way too much skin than you’re used to. before you could completely psych yourself out, you took a deep breath, mentally preparing yourself before finally swinging the door wide open, revealing the outfit to him.

jeno looked up and almost choked on air.

the outfit definitely hugged your curves in all the right places, made your skin glow and your legs look longer, and god, yes, he would definitely go up to you and say hi if he saw you at a party.

but then he thinks about all the other boy’s who would also go up to you and say hi and do god knows what else and the thought almost knocks him out.

“yeah, that doesn’t look comfortable, i don't like it,” he says a half lie. you quickly agree, relieved, as you go back into the dressing room to try on your next outfit.

jeno feels hot.

the air was too thick and he wanted to dunk his head in cold water to remind himself that this was you.

he shakes the thoughts away. these are thoughts he shouldn’t be thinking about, especially with his best friend. but it was no use. because the next time you stepped out of the dressing room you were wearing a white skirt a little longer than the last one and a light blue top that covered what needed to be covered but was just enough to exude that sexiness he liked in a girl and he swore he needed to get into a bathroom. now.

“this one’s a bit better, i could actually wear this,” you comment, innocently looking at him through those silver glasses that makes your eyes pop out, a small smile on display and all he could do was nod, “yeah…t-that one’s nice,” he says, disguising his stutter under a fake cough.

you smiled, pleased with his answer, and he felt his stomach flip.

he was in so much trouble.

this torture went on for a good fifteen more outfits, tiny side comments coming from him while his sanity continues to slip just a little more. his pants feel more restricted every time you walk out dressed in the cutest outfits that looked like they were made for you.

the worst ones were the ones you liked. the ones that made your eyes twinkle in the mirror and made you smile like you were finally starting to see yourself the way he saw you – absolutely beautiful.

there’s a million f words running through his head.

why the fuck did he think this was a good idea? why the fuckity fuck didn’t he just ask giselle to add this to her makeover process? why the fuckity fuck fuck did he throw all those tiny tops and short skirts into your basket? why the flying fuckity fuck fuck fuck shit fuck are you so fucking pretty? and more importantly – what the actual fuck are you, his best friend, doing to him?

after a long three hours of internal screaming – it was finally over.

you emerged from the mall looking like you’d just won a game show, all smiles and sunshine, bubbling with excitement, happy with the outfits your best friend picked out for you while jeno trudged behind you, hauling ten full shopping bags, half amused, half in pain.

he drove in near silence as you yapped on and on about your makeover with giselle, every detail you hadn’t had the chance to spill yet now tumbling out all at once.

in the middle of your yapping session, you noticed the boy wasn’t as active as he usually was, no silly side comments, no teasing remarks.

“neno..,” you sweetly called out to him and jeno nearly swerved.

god, the things that nickname did to him.

“you okay?,” you asked, eyes flicking over to him.

“yeah bunny, just tired,” he said with a small smile, trying to play it cool.

“that was a lot of shopping for a guy, y’know?” he glanced at you quickly, then back to the road, “keep going, tell me more about your day with giselle,” he says.

you eyed him for a second longer, as if trying to read him, then picked up right where you left off.

he dropped you off and made sure you were safely in your room. before he could leave you surprised him by reaching out and pulling him into a hug. with your arm tight around his waist, face pressed against his chest, you let out a soft sigh, “thank you, neno, sorry for taking up so much of your time.”

jeno chuckles, gently smoothing your hair down with one hand, hoping you don’t realize how fast his heart was beating, “you can never take too much of my time, bunny, you know that” he says, reassuring you.

you look up at him, with that sweet, grateful smile that’s currently driving him crazy, “you’re the best best friend in the entire world,” you say, before leaning up and pressing a sweet, innocent kiss to his cheek.

jeno should’ve been used to it.

you’ve been kissing his cheek ever since you were five years old and playing in the mud together. he argues today just wasn’t his day.

maybe it was the outfit? maybe it was the soft curve of your smile? or maybe it was the fact that he hadn’t had sex in so long (two days) it was affecting his logic?

whatever it was, that little peck nearly sent him spiraling.

“go and rest,” you said, pushing him towards your door and out of your dorm room, “thanks for shopping with me,” you ended the night with a lopsided grin before shutting your door as he finally made his way out.

he didn’t go home right away. instead he found himself at lia’s place, hands roaming and mind elsewhere, trying to exorcise whatever the hell was clawing at him from the inside out.

he kissed her like he meant it, touched her like he was desperate – because he was. so, so desperate for release. he fucked the shit out of her, releasing all his sexual urges as he guiltily pictured you in those tight, revealing outfits.

pictured you smiling up at him having absolutely no idea the effect you left behind. pictured your sweet voice calling him that nickname you gave him when you were fourteen before you stole his first kiss.

and when he finally finished, breathless and sweaty, staring up at the ceiling of a room that wasn’t his, next to a girl he barely knew, all could think about was: what the actual fuck is wrong with me?

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎

the easy part of this transformation was over — the shopping spree, the haircut, the subtle change of your appearance had all been external.

you could already feel the power your new look gave you. for the first time in your life, you realized that pretty privilege wasn’t just some exaggerated social theory. it was real. you felt it in the smallest gestures.

on your way to the library, retracing steps you’ve taken hundreds of times before, everything felt a little different. the way people intently held the door open for you, even if you were still several steps away. the way they’d immediately made space for you in the elevator. and the way someone had already rushed to help you grab a book from the top shelf – you used to have to drag the ladder with you just to get it before.

however, just because life became a tad bit easier, doesn’t mean you felt comfortable.

what had once been comfort in invisibility was now replaced with the pressure of being seen. you weren’t used to the lingering glances or the compliments or the catcalls — it made your skin crawl, making you want to hide under the table until everyone leaves.

when jeno finally walked into the library, his eyes landed on you immediately. you wore a soft white top with jeans that finally hugged your frame and a light blue cardigan around your shoulders, collarbones out for display. it was one of the outfits you bought last night.

the guilt on his shoulders felt heavier as he was reminded of what he did — what he thought of.

forcefully shaking the thoughts away, he quietly sits right next to you. his gaze drifts to your legs anxiously bouncing under the table. a sign that something was clearly bothering you. gently, he placed a hand on your knee. you flinched slightly, then looked up at him, your expression distant – like you just realized he was there.

“bunny, what’s wrong?,” he asks, voice low and tender, threaded with concern.

“they’re all staring, jeno,” you whispered, almost like you didn’t want the words to exist.

he looks around the room, noticing the way everyone was too deep into their own worlds and while he didn’t see anyone obviously gawking, he knew it didn’t matter. it wasn’t about them. it was about what you were feeling inside.

“no one’s staring, bunny,” he murmured, voice delicate, like handling glass.

he knew better than to dismiss it. he recalls what it was like when he stepped out without the comfort of his thick-rimmed glasses and oversized t-shirts for the first time. remembers the way his heart was pounding in his chest, afraid of the judgments he might receive. he didn’t need to guess what you were feeling. he’s sure you were battling the same internal conflict right now. but just like how he got through it, he knows you will too. he’ll make sure of it.

you shut your eyes, taking a deep breath, “sorry,” you whispered, exhaling like the breath had been stuck in your chest all day, “im just- being paranoid, i’m not used to people noticing me,” you say softly.

“that’s okay,” jeno said, a warm smile blooming on his face as his hand moved to your back, rubbing slow, soothing circles, “that’s our lesson for today.”

jeno gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze as he set his bag down beside you, “okay bunny, first thing’s first is it’s all about your mindset,” he taps his head, pointing to his brain and you can’t help but giggle at the silly antics.

“im serious,” he insisted, lips twitching into a smirk, “if someone stares, don't spiral and think ‘they’re judging me.’ instead think ‘i look good, that’s why they’re staring,’” he says.

your eyes pop out of your head, he says it like it was so easy, “doesn’t that sound a little too egotistical?,” you said, nose wrinkling.

“not egotistical, just confident,” he counters, “there’s a difference.”

you gave him a skeptical look but he was already sitting up straighter, leaving no room for arguments.

“next is posture, stop hiding behind your books and sit straight, shoulders back, chin up,” he demonstrates.

you copied his posture, finding his seriousness amusing as you rolled your shoulders back, “like this?,”

“yeah,” he nodded, approving, “you already look more confident”

you laughed quietly, already feeling silly, “i feel like i’m pretending to be someone i’m not,” you point out.

“well, confidence is pretending, at first anyway,” he replied, shrugging, “eventually you start owning up to it, it starts becoming comfortable.”

you studied your best friend for a minute or two. there was a time where he would hide behind his books as well, would even hide behind you. you realized now that his change didn’t just come out of nowhere – it wasn’t just a random growth spurt. it was something he’d worked on, something that took time and practice, just like you were doing now. you wondered how he ever managed to do this alone.

“and the most important thing to know, bunny,” he adds, voice gentler now, “you’re allowed to take up space, don’t ever apologize for being seen.”

you carried his words with you, tucking them somewhere deep, somewhere that had always longed to hear them.

you sat there in silence for a beat until jeno shifted beside you, nudging your arm lightly, “okay,” he said, eyes glinting with a mischievous spark, “time for your first assignment.”

you turned to him, instantly suspicious, “assignment?,”

he nodded, already scanning the room, “see that guy by the window,” he points to possibly the prettiest boy you’ve ever seen reading a worn copy of the hunger games: catching fire. you recognize him. you’re pretty sure he was in your elective art class.

“you’re going to flirt with him,” jeno smirks and your eyes almost bulge out of your head.

“you’re joking! that’s hyunjin,” you whisper, head whipping toward jeno.

“so?,”

“so, he’s…he’s too cool and i don't even know how to flirt!,” you whisper-shouted, hands flailing helplessly at your sides.

he chuckles, “you were the same girl who threatened to beat up my bullies when we were 11, you’re telling me you’re afraid of a boy now?,” his smile is playful, lightly provoking you. and when you don’t reply, he knew you knew that he was right, “just compliment him, smile, say he has nice hands or something.”

your mouth fell open, staring at him in horror, “that’s so dumb, jeno. what if he thinks i'm hitting on him?”

“...you are hitting on him,” he said slowly, like it was obvious.

you groaned, dragging your hands over your face, “i’m not comfortable with this.”

“that’s the point. confidence doesn’t grow in comfort zones,” jeno says and you wonder when he’s gotten so wise. usually you were the one who had these motivational words ready for him.

staring down at your lap, nerves buzzing like static in your fingertips, you take a moment to think it through. you glanced back at your best friend, he was already looking at you proudly – like he believed in you more than you believe in yourself.

you let out a breathy laugh, the absurdity the situation weighing on your chest, “if this ends in disaster–,”

“it wont,” he cuts you off and you knew there was no way to back out of this situation. besides you were the one who asked him to help you. slowly, you got up from your chair, taking a deep breath and making your way towards the boy.

“hi, hyunjin,” you start off quiet, timid, slightly afraid.

hyunjin darts his eyes away from his book, looking up at you, “hey” he replies. when you don’t say anything else right away, he shifted in his seat, “did you need anything?,” he says, an awkward smile on his lips.

you swallowed hard, nerves tangling in your throat, “i uhm…just wanted to tell you—you have nice hands!,” you say, a little too cheerful for your liking. you were internally screaming. curse jeno for putting that in your head. you actually can’t believe you used it.

he blinked. then a soft laugh escaped him, not mocking, but surprised, amused. “oh? uhm, thanks?,” he said, a playful glint in his eyes, “i like what you’ve done with your hair,” he compliments, leaving you shocked.

“what?”

he points vaguely in your direction, “you got a haircut, right? it look’s nice.”

you blinked, stunned into silence for a second too long. “thank you,” you finally breathed, cheeks warming instantly.

you didn’t realize he noticed you before. let alone remember you enough to notice a change.

“you’re welcome,” he smiles and you awkwardly wave goodbye.

you made your back to jeno, so certain that you looked like a tomato. dropping into the seat beside him, burying your face in your hands, “that was so embarrassing,” you mumbled through your fingers.

jeno tried to hide his laughter behind his fingers, afraid to be called out by the librarian for being too loud, “you actually told him he had nice hands,” he wheezed.

“shut up!,” you groaned, “that was your fault!,” you swat at his arm, “my brain just – stopped working.”

jeno calms himself down, sitting up straighter now, the teasing falling away just a little, “yeah, but you did it…and he talked to you, noticed your hair, said he liked it.”

the memory of hyunjin’s compliment flickers in the back of your mind and a small swell of pride flutters in your chest, “he did, didn’t he…,” a shy smile tugs at the corner of your lips.

jeno nods, eyes full of tenderness, “see? you’ve never been invisible,” he points out.

the words settle over you like a warm blanket and for a moment you just sit with them, the weight of the realization sinking in.

“i still felt like i was going to pass out though,” you admitted, a thin, embarrassed smile on display.

“that’s okay, confidence is scary,“ jeno said simply, “but the more you practice, the easier it’ll be,” he sends you a warm smile, never making you feel like these feelings were wrong.

without thinking, you leaned into his shoulder, seeking the steady comfort he always gave you, “thanks, neno,” you breathe out.

he freezes for a second, just for a second, before bumping his head lightly against yours, “anytime.”

then he pulls back just enough to grin mischievously, “now, go back to hyunjin and say something a little less awkward.”

“wait? right now?!,” you whip your head toward him, horrified once again.

“yes, right now…go,” he’s already pushing you up and out of your seat, laughing under his breath as he watches you stumble forward, nerves buzzing anew.

trying to ignore the way your heart pounds against your ribs, you walk back up to hyunjin, this time with a bit more confidence, capturing his attention once more.

“actually i…i wanted to say that’s a really good book,” you nod toward the hunger games book in his hand and hyunjin lights up instantly.

“right?, i’m on my third re-read,” he says excitedly.

with a casual gesture, he pulls out the chair next to him inviting you to sit as you talked about the masterpiece that is suzanne collins and the hunger games trilogy. the conversation went on for a good twenty minutes, it was easy and light and fun, a little playful sometimes. you lose yourself in the exchange, forgetting the nerves that once clawed at your chest.

when hyunjin bid his goodbye, you practically floated back to your seat. your heart was pounding in your ears but in the best way possible. you can’t believe that just happened. you usually only talk to people in class, if you’re required to.

jeno watched you. watched that twinkle in your eye appear, your smile beaming as the conversation continues and it’s the first time throughout this whole process that he sees the change.

you were slowly bringing back the girl he knew. the girl you lost along the way. the girl he always knew was still there, just waiting for a reason to shine.

when you returned to him, he can’t help but tease you just a little bit, “look who’s suddenly ms. social butterfly,” he grins, earning an eye roll from you as you tried to wipe the giddy smile off your face, “shut up”

“no seriously,” he says, leaning forward now, resting his elbows on the table, “twenty full minutes, i was about to send a search party,” he smirks.

“always so dramatic,” you huff but your smile betrays you, “i didn’t think it’d actually go that well,” you admit, cheeks still pink.

“you flirted, you sat down, talked about hunger games lore like it was natural…if i didn't know you, i’d think you do this every day,” he smirks.

you narrow your eyes, “are you mocking me or hyping me up?,” you say playfully.

“why not both?,” he shrugs, clearly enjoying himself. his tone softens just enough to say, “but seriously bunny, im proud of you,” and you smile at him like he just handed you the stars in the sky.

“thanks…i feel kinda…good.”

“confidence will do that to you,” jeno says, nudging your foot under the table.

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎

the next few days turn into a full crash course in flirting 101 with lee jeno.

one afternoon, he dares you to make eye contact with the cute guy handing out flyers in campus, not just a glance, real eye contact. it sounds simple but it makes your palms sweat. you were able to managed a flirty smile too and when the boy stammers mid-sentence, jeno practically fist-pumps the air behind you.

another day, he made you strike up a casual conversation with the barista at the cafe. told you to be a little playful, a little flirty. you passed with flying colors, only stumbling over a few words, the barista writing his number on your cup as well as giving you an extra cookie “on the house.” you nearly skip back to jeno, face lit up like christmas morning.

each small win builds on the last, stacking slowly, steadily until the idea of putting yourself out there and owning up to your confidence doesn’t seem so scary anymore.

through it all, jeno watches with the same steady pride adoring the fact that you were learning how to take up space and shine again.

but then comes the moment that even he isn’t prepared for.

it’s a warm afternoon, golden light slanting through the library windows, when jeno leans over the table, a mischievous glint in his eye, “alright, new assignment.”

you smirk at him, accepting his challenge, “what now?”

he tips his chin toward the entrance where sungchan – tall, charming, the boy you’ve had a quite, hopeless crush on for years – walks in, balancing a coffee and his bag slung casually over one shoulder.

the air is knocked out of your lungs and you suddenly feel dizzy, hoping jeno doesn’t follow through whatever he had in mind.

“sungchan,” jeno says, making your heart skip a bit. he grins, already knowing the effect he has on you, “go invite him to the dream frat party this weekend.”

you stare at him like he’s grown two heads, “are you insane?!, that’s sungchan!”

“which makes this the perfect challenge,” he teases.

you open your mouth to protest but jeno cuts you off with a nudge on your arm, “c’mon show me you’ve learned something,” he mocks playfully.

you groan dramatically but your feet somehow move anyway, heart pounding so loudly you’re sure jeno can hear it from where he’s sitting. you were determined to show jeno (and yourself) that you have completely embraced the confidence.

you gather every shred of courage you have and cross the room toward the boy who inspired this whole glow-up.

sungchan looks up just as you approach, his smile lighting up the whole room. you send him a smile – a little flirty, a little too sweet.

“hey,” sungchan says, voice warm, “you’re in my psych class, right? you always ace every test”

you blink, a little thrown by the fact the he paid attention to you, “oh yeah, that’s me,” you say with a soft, bashful laugh, earning a chuckle from the boy in front of you.

he leans against the shelves a little, eyes raking over you in a way that makes your stomach twist. it’s not the uncomfortable kind of stare you’ve been learning to dodge lately. it’s something softer, curious, warm. like he’s seeing you for the first time.

“you look different today,” he says, tilting his head, studying you, “—in a good way.”

you feel the heat rush to your cheeks but you force yourself to stay steady, remembering everything jeno has taught you.

“thanks,” you manage, giving him a more playful, more bold smile, “maybe you just weren’t paying enough attention before.”

this surprises him, eyebrows shooting up before a slow, impressed grin stretches across his face.

“maybe i wasn’t,” he admits, the easy charm in his voice sending your heart into a full sprint.

for a second, neither of you moves. the space between you humming with quiet tension – intoxicating and terrifying all at once.

you clear your throat lightly, breaking the spell, “come to the dream frat party this weekend,” you say it like it wasn’t an invitation. wasn’t a question. didn’t give him any room to deny.

sungchan’s grin turns teasing, a spark lighting in his eyes, “am i coming as your date or…?,” he leans toward you, trailing off, leaving the question open, playful.

you bite back a laugh, finding just enough courage to meet his gaze head on, “i guess you’ll have to come to find out.”

he stares at you for a heartbeat longer. you’ve definitely piqued his curiosity. and then he laughs, easy and alluring, “okay beautiful, you’ve convinced me. i’ll be there,” he whispers for only you to hear before sending you a wink and walking away.

back at the table, jeno watches. something inside him shifts. it’s subtle, a small, tight pull low in his chest but it settles in bitterly.

he pushes it away, refusing to acknowledge it because this wasn’t supposed to matter. he wasn’t supposed to care about anything but seeing you happy.

you make your way back to him, beaming, “he said yes!,” you practically squeal, dropping into your chair like your knees might give out at any second.

jeno chuckles, reaching out to ruffle your hair, a familiar, easy gesture that suddenly feels heavier than it should.

“of course he did, you’re impossible to say no to,” he tries to tease, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes and you’re too giddy to notice any of it. you bat his hand away, cheeks flushed and full of life.

jeno is forced to swallow past the uncomfortable lump rising in his throat.

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎

tonight is the dream fraternity’s party.

the night where you finally put everything you’ve learned, everything you’ve worked for, to the test. this was it. the final step in your glow up and you felt that electric sense of anticipation crackling just beneath your skin.

you were done waiting. done watching from the sidelines.

you were ready to let loose, to fully step into this new version of yourself.

you stepped into the house, the air thick with excitement. a tight white dress clings to your body, a bold choice you would have second-guessed before. you ditched your glasses for the night, switching it with the contact lenses giselle gave you — embracing the braveness.

this time, when you notice the stares, the double takes, the whispered comments, you don’t shrink back. you don’t flinch. you let them wash over you, feeding the fire inside you.

all those lessons with jeno clearly worked. that change in mindset was all you needed. the attention makes you glow. makes you feel powerful.

looking around the room, you searched for your best friend before finally spotting him in the corner at the back, near the kitchen.

you send him a tiny wave, he sends one back, excitement bubbling through you but before you could make your way towards him, a hand on your arm stops you.

“y/n! you look so pretty oh my god!,” giselle screeches over the loud music, a smile beaming on her face as she pulls you in for a tight hug. she was clearly already intoxicated, her balance a little wobbly but her energy still infectious.

“c’mon,” she says, already dragging you around the room with her, “you have to meet my friends!”

you happily followed her around, giggles escaping your lips, nervousness falling away with every step.

before you know it you were three shots in, dancing with the girls – giselle, somi, and angel, who you already knew before as jaemin’s girlfriend.

the music was loud, your laughters were louder.

and for the first time, you aren’t overthinking a single thing.

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎

when jeno saw you walk into the front door, it was like time had slowed down, like a thousand cherry blossom petals had burst into the air around you, everyone else blurring into a side character of your story.

you have always been pretty. always been beautiful. but tonight, you were absolutely radiant.

and it wasn’t even the dress, though he can’t deny how much he loved the way white clung to you, soft and luminous.

it was the way you walked around the room with your head held high. the way you glowed with every step, not shying away under anyone’s gaze. the way your smile beamed.

you weren’t hiding anymore.

you have finally stepped into your own skin, finally brought back the girl he knew.

in that moment, it wasn’t just the girl standing in front of him that he saw. it was every version of you that was always beautiful – the girl that was the first one out of the house, chasing after his hamster. the girl that didn’t care if she only had two teeth left, she would still eat what she wanted. the girl who was fighting bullies three times her size just to protect him. the girl who was brave enough to kiss him first. the girl who learned to pick up the pieces.

when you waved at him, he felt like he was on cloud nine. it felt like he had stepped into his shoes all those years ago – a boy hopelessly in awe of the only person he ever wanted to see him.

and when you started walking towards him, it was like his lungs could no longer function. you stole every breath he had.

but before you could give it back to him, giselle pulls you away, spinning you into the chaos of the party, leaving jeno standing there, fighting the urge to follow.

“was that, y/n?,” jaemin says, popping out from nowhere, almost giving him a heart attack as he clutches his chest.

he punches the boy in his arm before confirming that it was in fact, you. jaemin looks at him with a knowing glance. he recognizes the familiar twinkle in jeno’s eye.

“wow,” jisung comments from his other side, making him pause.

when did all his friends show up?

“she looks really hot,” jisung adds, eyes following your figure across the room.

a devilish grin appeared on jeno’s lips and in one quick motion, he had jisung under his arm, ruffling his hair, “no, no, no…not the hair hyunggg!,” he struggled from the older boy’s grip before jeno finally released him.

“point taken, won’t say anything about her ever again,” jisung pouts, fixing his hair back into place.

“i don’t know what you mean,” jeno smiles playfully, “i just wanted to play with you.”

chenle chuckles from nearby, “oh definitely, it’s totally not because you’re possessive and way too protective of y/n,” he points out.

“i am not possessive,” jeno argues, his voice defensive, “protective, sure, but she’s my best friend guys, our parents will kill me if something bad happens to her,” he says.

“she’s also a grown woman,” renjun points out, “you can’t keep pushing away every guy who thinks she’s hot, you know?”

“im not pushing away every guy!…just you guys,” jeno protests. he would never let any of his friends touch you, knowing what he knows.

there’s a pause as the group stares at him, “mhm, cause her really tall, really muscular, really intimidating, doesn’t smile at anyone, guy best friend being by her side almost all the time isn’t pushing away any boys,” haechan adds, teasing.

“it’s not my fault those boys don’t have the balls to ask her out,” jeno mutters, looking at mark for some support, hoping that he’d somehow take his side and tell the others that they were being ridiculous.

mark shrugs in a don’t look at me kind of way and jeno can’t help but groan in defeat.

“well, that boy definitely has the balls,” jaemin nods towards the dance floor as jeno follows his line of vision, his eyes immediately on your figure once again.

you're still with the girls but this time, sungchan and a few other guys from the riize fraternity have surrounded you, laughing and chatting with you.

“shouldn’t you get your girlfriend, jaemin?,” mark asks casually, “i know that wonbin guy has a thing for her,”

jaemin just laughs, completely unbothered, “nah, he doesn't stand a chance,” he says, sipping from his drink as the boy’s laugh.

but jeno knew that sungchan definitely had a chance with you. nothing is funny.

sungchan leans in close, whispers something in your ear and you were laughing. the laugh he thought was only reserved for him. he feels his fists clench up on his sides.

“you gonna push him away, jeno?,” haechan teases by his ear, a smirk playing on his lips, earning him a punch right on the stomach.

“shut up,” he says, haechan clutching over, his laughter mixing with his pain. he totally deserved that.

“c‘mon jisung, let’s find your girl for the night,” haechan manages to say in between choked breaths, before he dragged jisung and mark out of the room, resuming their fuckboy101 classes.

jeno watches as sungchan and you continue to talk, his gaze never wavering from the two of you. every inch of him wants to march over there and pull you away but he doesn’t. instead, he stays rooted in place, his eyes burning holes in the back of your head, feeling his pulse quicken in ways he can’t explain.

lia, his current situationship, walks up to him.

“okayy, that’s our cue,” chenle whispers before all the boys dispersed leaving jeno alone.

he doesn’t even greet her, doesn’t make an effort to say hi, eyes still glued on your figure.

“hi handsome,” lia drags her hands up his shoulders, settling on the back of his neck, her lips finding the side of his jaw.

it all happened so quickly.

one second you were still with the girls, the next sungchan dragged you to the side, his lips on yours. jeno’s jaw clenches. his heart dropping.

he needed to stop looking. he needed a distraction.

he finally acknowledges the girl clung to his neck. she reeks of alcohol and vape smoke. jeno turns to kiss her anyway.

he let’s lia drag him up the stairs, taking one last look at you. he let’s her lead him into his bedroom. let’s her strip off his clothes.

he knew you were going to be okay, knew you could handle your alcohol after many beer nights with him and he definitely knew that you were too smart to get yourself into any real trouble.

he can’t ruin this night for you.

“fuck me like you did last time,” lia whispers in his ear, trailing kisses down his neck, “fuck me like you mean it,” her hand travels down, wrapping around his already hard cock and jeno did.

he fucked her like she was all he needed. abused her hole, used her to release all his sexual tension, trying to push away the image of you from his mind.

but he found that every time you appeared, the better it felt and soon he was clenching, body shaking, his orgasm taking over as he came…with your name spilling from his lips.

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎

bunny: come over please it’s an emergency.

jeno was banging on your door in under eight minutes of that text. which was absolutely ridiculous considering the fraternity house was a twenty minute walk away from your building. a million thoughts were racing in his head.

what happened after he left you at the party that constitutes this emergency text? were you hurt?

you swung the door open, perfectly intact. no tears, no bruises, just you – in shorts and one of his your oversized naruto t-shirt, blinking at him like he was the one being ridiculous.

side note: it’s insane how you manage to make that shirt look sexy.

he exhaled hard, one hand bracing on the doorframe as he caught his breath.

“did you run here?,” you ask, stunned, noticing the sweat dripping down the side of his face.

“you said it was an emergency,” he shot back, chest still heaving.

you offered a sheepish smile, “sorry, come in,” before walking into your room. jeno followed, shutting the door with a soft click.

“what happened?” he asked, eyes scanning you again, just to be sure, as he sat on the edge of your bed watching you pace back and forth.

“sungchan kissed me,” you tell him.

he blinked, processing, he knew that. he saw you. the reminder leaves a bitter taste on his tongue. he pushes it away, playing the best friend card once more.

“that’s good? right?,” he says cautiously, cursing the fact that he was your best friend right now and had to listen to you talk about another guy, “that’s what you wanted?”

“yeah but,” you swallowed, embarrassment already creeping up your neck, “but i didn’t know what to do!”

“what do you mean?,” he asks dumbfounded, “you just…kiss him back.”

“it’s not that simple, you weren’t there – i panicked! i-i froze! i was too into my head and then i just – i ran,” you ramble, cringing as you relived what happened last night.

a snort escapes jeno before he could stop it.

you narrowed your eyes, “don’t laugh!, it was so humiliating, i can’t believe i ran away like a literal child!,” you groan in your hands.

he tried to control his expression but the corner of his mouths betrayed him, eyes twinkling with amusement, “y/n, it’s not a big deal, you were nervous,” he reassures, “just tell him you were drunk and then try again, it's not the end of the world,” he says it so easily – like you didn’t just go through the worst moment of your life. and that’s saying a lot considering you had a dead mom.

“that’s the problem, i don’t know what i'm doing, i always thought when it happened i’d just know but i didn’t,” you whine in frustration, pulling at your hair.

he must be crazy to think you’d get a different result if you went up to sungchan now and kissed him. you’re almost sure the same thing would happen.

“you’ll be fine next time, you’ll be prepared for it,” he says. the thought of there being a next time makes you panic.

“will i?,” you cut in, “what if i freeze again?,”

“you won’t”

“you don’t know that.”

he opened his mouth to argue, but you beat him to it.

“can you teach me?,” you said, voice quiet.

jeno stills, looking at you with wide eyes like he almost couldn’t believe what you just said – “what?”

“teach me,” you sat next to him, eyes locked on his, “add a step five, teach me how to kiss, teach me how to–” you couldn’t bring yourself to say the other things, the dirtier things you wanted to learn, “–how to do other things,” you mumble.

his jaw tensed. he can’t believe what it is you’re truly asking from him. teaching you how to kiss was already absurd but teaching you how to kiss for another man? it makes him want to throw up.

“bunny –no. i don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“why not?,” your head turns like a genuinely curious puppy.

“because best friends don’t–,” he faltered, “we don’t cross that line.”

“but it’s not like that,” you looked up at him, voice softening, “it’s just…practice.”

he didn’t move. didn’t blink. he can’t fathom the fact that he was actually starting to entertain the idea.

“it’s for educational purposes…just another step in the glow up,” you added, looking at him with those innocent eyes that makes him want to give you the moon, if you asked for it.

his throat worked as he swallowed, holding on to the last bit of restraint he had, “we can’t,” but it came out too quiet, too unsure, his resolve breaking with every second.

“neno,” you whispered, eyes locked on his. it’s not fair and you know it but you’ve already convinced yourself that this is necessary. that you needed to be taught.

“please…you’re the only one i feel comfortable with, just so i could learn, so i could know what to do when these things happen and i don’t make a fool of myself again,” you say, your tone low, almost pleading.

jeno’s breath hitches in his throat. he must be crazy or maybe you truly have him wrapped around your finger because now his eyes are flickering down to your lips and he can’t look away.

he realizes just how close you actually were and just like that, everything else blurs.

he leans in slowly, cautiously, searching your eyes for any flicker of hesitation.

you remain still, you don’t move, you don’t pull away. just watching him, a mixture of quiet excitement, nerves and something warmer, something softer, spreading through you like wildfire.

“just for practice,” he murmurs, brushing his lips against yours.

“just for practice,” you breathe back.

and that was all he needed to finally close the final inch – kissing you slowly, carefully.

it hits him instantly. fireworks. the same ones he felt when he was fourteen. the same one burned at the back of his memory. all this time he thought it was just because it was his first kiss, that feeling never once coming again. but here it is. bright, real and alive in his chest.

and this time he sees it for what it is – it’s you.

he feels you stiffen up and he pulls away softly, “don’t think about it too much, just follow my lead, okay, bunny?,” the once innocent nickname leaves you feeling hot, your heart pounding in your chest as you nod.

his hand makes his way to your cheek, warm and gentle, brushing the soft skin just beneath your ear, the small smile on his lips bringing you a sense of comfort as you as he pulls you back in. lips melting in his. you gave in, shutting the rest of the world out and only focusing on the boy in front of you.

jeno tilts his head, deepening the kiss as you follow his every move. his tongue licks your bottom lip, begging for entrance as yours part on instinct. body reacting before your mind could even process what was happening.

you kiss him back – not perfectly, not practiced but with all the pent-up wonder and want you’ve never let yourself say out loud. it was so natural with jeno. like you were always meant to be kissing him.

you can taste the faint mint of the altoids he always had, feel the heat radiating off his skin.

the makeout session grows heavier and heavier as you continue to keep up with him, learning to breathe through your nose.

you shift slightly and your knees brush, thighs pressing together and suddenly you’re aware of how close you have gotten. the lack of space between your bodies is dizzying. your fingers curl into the front of his shirt, wanting him even closer.

as if he could read your mind, jeno moves his hand from your neck to your waist, fingers splaying wide, grounding you and then in one swift motion, like you had absolutely no weight, he pulls you into his lap.

you gasp softly into the kiss and he swallows the sound, “sorry,” he murmurs against your lips, not pulling back. he was completely lost in you. in this feeling that only you could give him. he swears he could kiss you for hours and it still wouldn’t be enough.

“don’t be,” you shake your head, straddling him now. your hands find his shoulders, wrapping around his frame and threading through his hair. he kisses you harder now, less careful, lips moving in a messy rhythm, teeth clashing.

almost like it had a mind of it’s own, your hips instinctively grind down on his clothed bulge. the action sending jeno into a frenzy, a strangled groan transferring from his mouth to yours, his hold on your waist tightening.

the sound was so addicting, so intoxicating and it wraps around your head like a sweet drug.

you do it again, not entirely sure what you want to achieve but it felt good. it feels like a million butterflies flying in your stomach. there’s a growing tension in your belly that you can’t pinpoint. the feeling is new, exciting, hot.

jeno was right there with you, every boundary, every line he tried to draw was completely vanishing.

his lips trail down to your jaw, then lower, to the edge of your throat and you tilt your head back with a soft breath. your heart’s pounding. his is too. you can feel it, fast and erratic against your chest.

“y/n,” he grunts your name, like a warning – hoping you would stop him because he no longer couldn’t.

“what were the other things?,” he asks you, eyes completely blown out as he looks at you with a kind of hunger. and when all you do is grind against him once more, leaning into his touch, he’s decided he wants to see you on your knees.

“lesson number two, you’re going to suck my cock,” he whispers in your ear. the vulgar words make you feel hot, your body clenching, “do you want to learn that, bunny?,” he says, voice raspier, teasing, waiting for your go signal.

you nervously look up at him, all you could do was nod, an innocent glow in your eyes and jeno swears he could bust right there.

he reaches for one of your pillows, placing it on the floor beside your bed, “get on your knees,” he gently commands. you’re quick to follow, almost like you were in a trance. jeno tugs his sweats down to his ankles, his bulge prominent in his boxers and you can’t help but stare.

“go ahead, bunny, touch it,” he says. you almost can’t believe this is the same boy who was hiding behind your back, crying, every time the older kids would tease him.

this situation was absolutely ridiculous but that doesn’t stop your hand from wandering. following the outline of his cock as you palm him through his boxers. jeno lets out a hiss, the friction already fucking with his head.

“you can take it out,” he says, almost pleading. carefully you push his boxers off, his cock springing free, slapping against his thigh. you can’t help but gulp at his size, “i-its so big,” you say, making him laugh.

“thank you,” he says with a smirk on his lips and you playfully roll your eyes.

“what do i do?,” you look up at him, waiting for the answer. his eyes darken, that simple question snapping something inside of him. you were so innocent. so pure. and he was about to corrupt you.

he gently grabs your hand, redirecting it to your mouth, “spit,” he orders and like an obedient student, you follow, spitting in your hand.

“you can do anything, you can squeeze it,” he says, making you wrap your hand around his cock. your hand looks so tiny around his member and jeno almost just wants to skip this lesson entirely and fuck your hand dumb but he contains himself.

large hands envelop yours as he guides you on what to do, squeezing just the right amount.

“you can pump it up and down,” he says, guiding your hand to slide up and down his throbbing cock. he releases a sigh of pleasure, the warmth of your hand already making him weak.

“you can twist,” he says, twisting your hand around his cock, “you can put your mouth on it…lick it, swallow it, just keep the teeth away,” he smirks and you take a mental note of everything.

jeno releases your hand, giving you the space to experiment on his body. you’re excited, nervous but excited. you wanted to be good at this.

slowly, you continue his previous ministrations, pumping his cock up and down, squeezing and twisting your hand, just like how he showed you. jeno can’t help but let out a shaky breath, and you’re worried “does it hurt?,” you ask.

“no, bunny–feel’s really good, j-just go faster, please,” he begs.

it was sweet torture – how slow you were going, how much you were edging him on and you weren’t even aware of it. you pick up the speed, giving into his request and jeno grunts, his elbows coming in contact with your bed.

his cock looked so pretty, red and swelling, leaking.

your mouth exploringly wraps around his red tip and jeno curses under his breath, “fuuuck, oh my god.”

your confidence grows, feeling your pussy twitch at the sight of him. clenching your thighs, wanting some sort of relief. the sinful sounds he was making goes directly to your senses — the same sound you heard earlier but clearer now, more desperate, more whiny, and it knocks the breath out of you.

your hand continues to pump him, as you start sucking. you wouldn’t describe the taste of his cock to be good or sweet or like candy but it was addicting — it makes you want more. especially when every swipe of your tongue was accompanied by a breathy groan from him. it fuels you.

you take more and more of his length in until you could no longer fit him in your mouth and slowly you start bobbing up and down. his grunts and groans becoming more frequent.

jeno can’t do it anymore. this teasing was killing him. and the worst part is that you don’t even know how much you were affecting him.

his hand finds it’s way to your hair, gripping lightly, controlling the pace, increasing the speed, until you were choking, gagging, tears brimming in your eyes, “s-sorry bunny, it just f-feels so good,” he growls, thrusting his cock down your throat.

it was too much. he was too big. but you don’t care. you shut your eyes tightly, fighting the urge to gag as he continued to hit the deepest part of your throat.

this image of you on your knees, spit drooling all over your chin, tears in the corner of your eyes as you take what he gives you is absolutely heavenly.

jeno feels the coil about to snap, his breaths coming in heavy pants, thrusts getting messier and messier.

“o-open your eyes, bunny,” he orders. he wants you to see it. wants you to see him unravel. wants you to know how good you’ve been for him.

“p-play with my balls,” he instructs. your hands immediately follows through, squeezing him just where he needed it. heat travels all throughout his veins as he pulls you off, not wanting to force you to swallow his cum.

and then he falls apart – hard.

jaw going slack, eyes rolling back as his body fell into your pillows, abs clenching, cock pulsating. his cum shoots out of his tip, messily squirting everywhere, orgasm completely washing over him.

you watch him fall apart and you’re absolutely mesmerized. he looked so beautiful. so fucked out. and there’s that knot building in your stomach that you still can’t quite place.

you lick him clean, swallowing every drop that has landed on his stomach, his thighs, everywhere.

jeno’s eyes shot open as he tried to slow his breathing, slowly sitting back up, watching you clean him up like he was your last meal.

“how does it taste?,” he smirks and you look up at him through your damp lashes, “not very good,” you smile, earning a laugh from both of you. he guides you back up, as you stand in between his legs.

he lifts the naruto shirt off your body, leaving you in your light blue bra, flower patterns detailing it, “cute,” he playfully smirks and you suddenly feel embarrassed, arms protectively going across your chest.

“nu-uh don’t shy on me now, this was your idea, remember,” he says, before pushing your hands away and placing a soft kiss on the flesh on top of your breasts, looking up at you. your breath catches in your throat. that knot in your belly growing and growing making you push your legs together.

jeno notices.

“you did such a good job,” he compliments you, licking and sucking the skin of your breasts as he continues to look at you. your hands find comfort in his shoulders, stabilizing yourself.

“i did?,” you ask, “mhm, you’re such a good girl…made me feel so good,” he groans in between your breasts before traveling lower, placing a soft kiss on your stomach. his dirty talk has your mind reeling, feeling weak in the knees.

“-and good girls, must be rewarded,” he says, his fingers making their way to the hem of your shorts, squeezing the fabric between his fingers.

“how do you like being touched?,” he asks, softly, waiting, looking up at you.

“what?,” you ask, blush creeping up your cheeks.

“when you touch yourself, how do you like it?,” he asks, littering your stomach with soft kisses, his tongue lightly grazing on your skin.

“i-,” you stutter, “i-i dont,” you say, embarrassed of your lack of experience.

“what?” it was his turn to be surprised, gently sitting you on his thigh, like you just said the most ridiculous thing in the world.

sure he knew you were a virgin and had zero experience with men but you had to have touched yourself before? there had to be some part of you that gave in to the desires of the night and experimented?

you groan, hiding your face in the crook of his neck, “i-i’ve tried but nothing ever happens and i just feel silly with my hand down my pants,” you reason out and that very image alone makes his cock twitch again.

you were going to kill him.

“so you’ve never fingered yourself? never had an orgasm?,” he asks, completely shocked.

“i don’t even know how i’m supposed to do that,” you shrug.

“ok,” jeno says, taking it all in.

he thinks for a minute or two before he finally comes to a conclusion.

you stole his first kiss, it was only fair he stole your first orgasm. right?

“lesson number three, i’m teaching you how pleasure is supposed to feel like.”

his strong arms lift you up, making you squeal at the sudden action before he turns around, gently laying you on your bed.

jeno gets rid of his shirt, throwing his remaining piece of clothing over his head and holy fuck…your best friend is hot. his abs are on clear display, his semi-hard cock hung to the side, and you feel very hot as his gaze focuses back on you.

“when did you get those?,” you ask, fingers ghostly dancing over his six pack, trying to push away the nerves you were feeling.

he chuckles before leaning over, body trapping yours, lips finding that spot he left off of, as he continues to trail kisses on your stomach. your body can’t help but react, arching towards him. his fingers tugging on your pajama shorts.

“let’s take this off, bunny,” you comply, hips raising up, shorts sliding down your legs and you almost curse yourself at the underwear you decided to wear – a white one with cute little brown bears all over it.

jeno smirks, “really mature choice of underwear,” he teases and you scowl, “shut up, jeno,” you say, trying to hold onto the little pride you had left. he chuckles until he spots the dripping arousal your underwear has collected and something inside him shifts.

he wants to ruin you…so bad.

“look at you, bunny,” his voice drops an octave deeper, “already so wet and i haven’t even touched you,” he kisses the inside of your thigh and you feel your pussy clench, “you don’t even know what we can do with all this, huh?,” he says, gazing up at you. you watch him, as he got up, pulling you to the edge of the bed.

jeno’s hands wrapped around his cock and you tense up, “neno, are we about to have sex?,” you ask, your voice soft, timid, a hint of fear – it drives him absolutely nuts.

“no bunny, i won’t take that from you,” he says softly, “just want you to feel something, okay? just a little clit stimulation,” he explains and before you could even ask him what that means his cock was inside your underwear — collecting all your juices, tip hitting your clit over and over again as he slides up and down your wet folds.

“ohhh,” you release a sigh of pleasure, eyebrows furrowing as you try to understand this new feeling.

“feel’s good?,” he says, smirking at you.

“y-yeah,” you manage to breathe out and jeno absolutely loves the way your face was contorting.

he was playing a dangerous game with himself and this is supposed to be all about you. all he wants to do is insert his tip. just the tip. before he could lose control he stops, pulling his cock out of your underwear.

“why’d you stop?,” you ask, frustrated, already missing the lack of contact.

he chuckles, “my fingers will feel better,” he says for his own sanity.

he finally tugs off your underwear, the cool air hitting your pussy, before his thumb starts circling around your sensitive bud – rough, slow, precise circles that elicited a loud moan from you.

you slap your fingers across your mouth, surprised at the sound you made.

“don’t do that,” he orders, grabbing your fingers and latching it onto his before bringing it up over your head, a strong hand keeping it there, “want to hear you moan, bunny,” he whispers, sucking that sensitive spot just below your ear, earning another breath of moan from you.

your body arches up towards him, hips raising to his touch and he knew you were ready for more.

“gonna stick a finger in,” he warns, not giving you time to respond as his digit slides inside your hole, making you tense up, “relax,” he places a soft kiss on your lips, distracting you from the stretch, “it’s okay,” even with your dripping arousal, you were so so so fucking tight. he didn’t even know it was possible for someone to be this tight.

with a tiny bit of force, he pushes his finger in through your walls, “gonna make you feel real good, bunny,” he soothes as you slowly relax into his touch.

“gonna add another okay?,” he says and you just nod, trusting him completely. this stretch is definitely larger, and you find yourself biting down your lip. his fingers were so thick.

he slowly, gently thrusts them in and out, giving you time to adjust, “it’ll feel real good soon,” he seals with a kiss to your lips as he continues to stretch you out. fingers scissoring your walls until your pussy finally sucked him in.

the feeling of having something inside you was entirely new, strange, and you’re still trying to figure out if it felt good or not. but then jeno curls his finger and that knot in your stomach is rising faster and faster.

you want to know what happens when it finally breaks.

“ohh…neno,” you breathily moan, the pain completely morphing into pleasure. your walls completely adjusting to him, “please” you plead, not entirely sure what you were begging for.

your sweet, innocent, delicious moans of his name awakens something in him.

“im gonna eat you out now,” he tells you.

before you could protest, the idea of it making you feel embarrassed, he was already in between your legs, sucking on that spot that makes your eyes roll back.

“ohhh fuck, jeno,” you cry out, his tounge lapping up your juices, swirling around your sensitive bud, fingers still curling inside of you.

“neno, s-something’s happening,” you say in heavy pants, your breathing becoming shakier.

“p-please,” you beg, eyes wide, jaw going slack as you start panting, your hands gripping his hair, trying to ground yourself.

that coil in your stomach is hanging on by a single thread.

jeno looks up at you, he can feel you coming to a close. your walls pulsating around his fingers. he decides to finally send you over the edge, fingers rubbing fast, harsh, circles around your clit as the other continues to hit that sweet spot.

“let it happen, bunny,” he whispers, “let go…come all over my hand,” your best friend’s voice was the final push.

the thread snaps. the knot breaks.

you came crashing apart, stomach clenching, toes curling, eyes rolling to the back of your head. vision slipping into absolute darkness, feeling like you were floating.

jeno coaxes you through your orgasm, letting you ride out every wave. the sight of you unraveling drives him completely insane and it takes every nerve of self control to not ram his cock into you.

“such a good girl, bunny” he praises, littering kisses along your jaw, slow, reverent, like he’s trying to memorize the shape of you. your breathing is erratic, chest rising in short, shuddery pulls as you come down from everything.

he shuffles around your room quietly, grabbing a clean towel out of your bathroom before making his way back to your bed, gently cleaning you up.

your eyes flutter open at his touch. your best friend’s smile greets you, safe and warm, “you okay?” he asks and his voice is too tender. too full of something you don’t see.

“t-hat,” you clear your throat, a weak laugh slipping out, “that was a really fun lesson,” you smile, still caught in your daze.

jeno smiles back at you but it’s hollow and empty and he hates himself for smiling at all.

reality slaps him in the face, something in him crumples as he’s reminded that all of this – all the care, all the closeness wasn’t for him. it was all just for practice. a rehearsal for someone else. and now he’s drowning in the realization that he’s just the one you trust, not the one you want.

he’s helping you be prepared for another man, still pretending like it doesn’t kill him.

he almost wants to kill every man in the world for you to finally see him.

he stands, needing to put space between you, between what just happened and everything he’s feeling. but you catch him.

“where are you going?,” you ask, when he pulls his clothes off the ground, pulling his sweats up, getting ready to leave.

“back to the frat”

“jeno, it’s late, just stay the night,” you say, casually, easy. like it’s nothing. like it’s normal. like he didn’t just get a taste of something he’ll never recover from.

and it should’ve been easy. it should’ve been nothing. it should’ve been normal. he has stayed countless nights before.

but it’s not easy. it's not nothing. and it’s definitely not normal.

“please,” you say, moving over, making room for him and patting the space he usually took up.

jeno hesitates for a second or two before doing the one thing he never does if you were any other girl — he crawls back into your bed, your sheets and pillows molding to the shape of his body.

you immediately curl into his chest like it’s instinct. filling in that space that’s always been yours. legs tangle. skin touches skin.

it feels normal but it’s not. not with so little between you. not with everything unsaid.

jeno holds you close like he always does but this time he wonders if it’s the last. the sound of his heartbeat lulls you to sleep but he stays awake, eyes fixed on the ceiling, counting the cracks in his heart, wondering how much longer he can survive being just your best friend.

his fingers thread gently through your hair, slow and careful, memorizing the feel of you beneath his touch. the familiar scent of your strawberry shampoo wraps around him, soft and warm and absolutely cruel. it smells like home, like comfort, like everything he’s always wanted.

and then, in a voice so quiet it barely disturbs the silence, he whispers into the night air, words only for the moon to hear:

“i’m in love you, bunny.”

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎

the sun filters in gently, casting golden lines across your bedroom floor. you stir before he does, eyes blinking open to the soft rise and fall of his chest, quiet snores filling the air.

jeno’s arm is still wrapped around you, strong and secure, holding you like he didn’t want to let go. his face is relaxed, lips parted slightly, his usually styled hair falls softly on his features — he looks so vulnerable, peaceful.

he looks like the version of himself you remember all those years ago.

you should pull away but you don’t. instead, you study him — every line of his face, older now, more defined, but still him. you’ve seen him like this before, countless times, but something feels different now. you feel different.

and then it hits you, soft and sudden.

the feelings you had for him after you kissed him. the feelings you had for him when you wore your pink puffy dress, him in a pink matching tie as you danced the night away for prom. the feelings you had for him when he held you that night your world was falling apart.

you’ve always just needed him.

all of it crashes back into you at once — feelings you’d buried under years of pretending. years of silence. feelings you quickly tucked away the first time he talked about another girl.

the way you trained yourself to look away. the way you learned to smile through the ache. the way you accepted your fate of being his best friend.

your eyes drop to where your legs are still tangled with his, you notice the bulge in his sweats and memories of last night play in your mind. you feel his warmth everywhere and you wonder how you ever got used to not feeling this. how you ever convinced yourself that this didn’t mean something.

you knew that once he woke up. this would all be over. you would go back to being his best friend. back to the operation. back to the almosts that were always never enough.

so for a moment you let yourself have this, just for a minute longer. the closeness, the warmth, the boy who’s always been there. you snuggle into his side once more, nestling into the warmth of him, letting your eyes fall shut again.

the next time your eyes flutter open, you’re met with the cold reality you’ve always lived in. the warmth that surrounds you is gone. the space beside you is empty.

jeno is gone.

you sit up slowly, a heavy thud echoing in your chest, not of panic or confusion but just that quiet, hollow ache that settles in when you’re reminded that he will never be yours.

your eyes scans the room, no shoes by the door, his shirt nowhere to be seen. no signs he was ever there at all except for the faint scent of his cologne lingering in your sheets.

swinging your legs over the edge of the bed, you wrap the blanket around yourself as if that would fill the space he left behind. you check your phone, hoping for a message but there’s nothing.

something twists in your chest — you were just another name on his list.

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎

forty-eight hours.

that's how long it has been since you’ve last seen your best friend. forty-eight hours of sitting in the library alone. forty-eight hours of him not showing up to your shared classes. forty-eight hours of absolutely no contact. your messages were left on delivered. no goofy tiktoks. no instagram reels. nothing. and you hated every second of it.

you miss him and you’re not entirely sure why he had suddenly fallen off the face of the earth.

giselle: hey girly! <3 go to the party at the dream frat tonight, the girls and i are all gonna be there! <333

giselle: and sungchan will be there ;)

you stare at the messages.

you had nothing better to do and you’re hoping that maybe you’ll get a glimpse of your best friend while you’re there. just to see if he was doing okay.

you slipped on a light blue mini dress that accentuates your figure, did your makeup, paired it with white heels and you were good to go.

the dream fraternity still had a pretty huge crowd considering it was a wednesday night. bodies pressed together, bass shaking the walls, the usual laughter and shouting blurring into one.

you spot jeno almost immediately, in that same corner he seemed to always be in. there’s a new girl on his arm — pretty, tall, fair-skinned. you don’t recognize her. something in your heart twists.

you knew all the girls he was seeing. every girl he flirted with, hooked up with, even the ones he ghosted. usually you were the first one he would tell it to. the first one to know everything about him.

but now? he’s shut you out. it was loud and clear. he has drawn a line between you. the same line he draws once he’s gotten all that he wanted with whoever was his current conquest.

you felt absolutely sick. the years of friendship going down the drain just like this. your heart splitting into two while he’s just standing there, laughing, flirting, completely unaffected by the wreckage he left behind.

if he doesn’t need you then you don’t need him either. if he can act normal then you can too.

you force yourself to look away, scanning the crowd until you spot giselle and the rest of the girls in the middle of the makeshift dance floor, “y/n! you’re hereee!,” she squeals, giving you a tight, buzzing hug that makes you laugh for the first time in days.

“here! take a shot!,” she hands you a drink and you down it quickly, the alcohol burning your throat in the best way possible.

the dj plays a song that gets everyone hyped up and you feel yourself letting loose, having fun, with the girls beside you, already feeling better than you did when you walked in here.

then a hand taps your shoulder and you turn to see the boy that makes your mind race into a million happy tunes, “sungchan!,” you greet him with a wide smile. he looks down at you, amused.

“hi, pretty girl,” he whispers in your ear, hands settling on your waist. his touch is warm against your skin but it doesn’t burn the way jeno’s did. doesn’t leave you branded.

“you’re not gonna run away this time are you?,” he teases, playfully, earning a giggle from you.

“sorry about that, i was just…too drunk,” you lie. the lie jeno taught you.

“are you too drunk now?,” he asks, leaning in, a twinkle in his eye.

you smirk, biting your lips, “no.”

sungchan kisses you, rough, fast and with no room for gentleness. this time, you don’t freeze. you kiss him just as hard. you let his hands roam around your body from your waist to your hips to your ass.

but kissing sungchan wasn’t like kissing jeno.

it doesn’t feel the same. doesn’t feel as good. there were no butterflies, no fireworks, no dizzy, floating feeling.

you’re still grounded. still painfully aware that you’re in the middle of drunk, sweaty strangers. he didn’t take you to a different dimension. your body was just there – moving your mouth against his like a robot programmed to do so. but your heart? your heart’s somewhere else.

and it was so annoying that at a time like this, your lips on your long-time crush, that you’ve made the realization that your heart was where it always was — in the hands of the boy in the corner.

the same boy whose lips, touch, words imprinted your heart in a way that you could never forget.

the same boy who could never see you the way you see him.

suddenly you pull away, too fast, too sharp – the feelings rushing into you all at once, suffocating, overwhelming.

sungchan stares at you like you were crazy and perhaps you are. “i-i need to use the bathroom,” you murmur, forcing a small, apologetic smile. he nods slowly, “alright, i’ll just be here.”

you quietly slip from his arms, pushing through all the bodies, barely noticing the music or the people pressing in on all sides.

and when you finally push open the bathroom door, it’s like exhaling for the first time in minutes. you grip the edge of the sink, chest heaving, trying to gather the pieces of yourself that scattered the moment you woke up alone.

you wished jeno was here.

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎

almost like he had a radar that went off, everytime you were near him. the second you walked through the door, jeno felt it. his gaze snapped to you instinctively but he looked away just as fast.

he’s not ready to face you. not ready to continue pretending.

the next time he saw you, you were making out with sungchan. kissing him the way he taught you. and god, he needed a drink. lots of it. the image burns in his mind, cruel and unrelenting.

he wants to chop off the guy’s hands. wants to make sure he doesn’t touch you ever again.

he wants him to know that his hands were on you first. that it was his lips he was tasting. that you were his.

but that’s not the case. so he goes and grabs another drink, another shot, another mix of poison to blur the pain.

the sound of your name snaps him back to reality.

“why do you keep waiting around for y/n anyway, there’s so many hotter girls around,” the voice is lazy, mocking, it was that wonbin guy from the riize fraternity.

jeno leans against the the wall, hidden in the shadows as he listens in on their conversation.

“well, one she’s hot,” sungchan snickers and jeno’s jaw tenses.

“and two, rumor is she’s still a virgin,” there’s a wicked amusement in his tone, “and we all know virgins are the hottest in the room.”

laughter erupts around them, sharp, cruel, echoing off the walls and that was all it took.

jeno doesn’t think. doesn’t hesitate.

in one quick second, he marched over, fist landing right on the sungchan’s jaw, the crack loud and satisfying, sending the soccer player tumbling backwards.

“what the hell?!,” sungchan yells, rubbing at his jaw before his expression twists in rage. in the next breath, he lunges. his fist catching jeno clean across the cheek.

jeno barely flinches. the soccer player was stronger than he thought, he’d give him that. but nothing is getting past his rage, adrenaline coursing through him.

he’s not done. not even close.

he charges forward, ramming sungchan into the wall with a force that rattles the shelves beside them, “don’t ever fucking touch her again,” he growls, voice low and deadly.

sungchan pushes back, shoving him hard, “she’s not yours,” and his words hits deeper than any punch could. because it was true. you weren’t his. and he’s almost sure you would kill him for this but he doesn’t care.

jeno throws another fist, connecting with sungchan’s ribs, making him grunt and double over for a second before retaliating with a wild swing.

more people gather now, phones out, flashes going off, chants of “fight, fight, fight,” increasing all around them.

sungchan, lunges, tackling jeno to the ground as they roll, fists flying, shouts echoing.

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎

the loud commotion coming from outside the bathroom door forces you to pick up the pieces.

shouts. thuds. chaos.

you quickly gather yourself, pulling open the door and following the swarm of bodies funneling toward the noise like a moth drawn to a light.

and then you see him — you know that figure immediately, even with his back towards you.

your best friend was on top of someone, fists repetitively slamming down. your heart lurches, legs moving before your mind can catch up.

they roll and you see sungchan’s face bruised and battered.

what the fuck?

around them, the crowd erupts in shouts and arguments, phones raised like this was some kind of show.

the dream boys were trying to get a hold of the situation but they too just ended up shouting and arguing with the riize fraternity, voices overlapping in a haze of testosterone and ego.

“your guy started it first!”

“you’re on our turf!”

the room was absolute chaos and no one’s doing a damn thing. you finally push through the roaring crowd, running over to them, until you’re at the center of the storm.

“stop!,” you shout, but your pleas are swallowed by the noise as they continue to take jabs at each other.

with all your strength, you yank on sungchan’s shirt, sending him stumbling off jeno.

you finally take a good look at your best friend, he had a nasty cut forming on the side of his forehead, face flushed and bruised.

“y/n,” he breathes your name like he’s shocked you’re here.

he stumbles to his feet, eyes darting behind you “get out of here,” he says urgently.

you whirl around only to see that sungchan wasn’t done. he was charging at your best friend again.

without thinking, you step in – fist connecting with his throat – sharp, clean, brutal. completely flying him backwards as he gasped for air.

the crowd cheers.

of course you knew how to punch, you grew up with three men three times your size.

“okay, that's ENOUGH!” mark’s voice rips through the room like a whip – loud and absolutely furious. the crowd freezes, the chaos dies down. he grabs sungchan by the arm and shoves him toward his crew.

“get the fuck out of here,” he commands the room, controlling the crowd. bodies scattering like cockroaches under a light.

you turn to jeno, chest heaving, fury radiating off you, “what the fuck was that?”

jeno flinches at your tone like it was more painful than any of the punches he had just taken. you were never mad at each other. not like this.

when he doesn’t answer, you turn around, jaw tight, ready to leave.

“wait–,” jeno jolts back to reality.

you pause, barely looking over your shoulder, “what?!,” your anger is palpable, brows furrowed, chest still rising and falling too fast.

he softens, “your hand is bleeding,” he says gently. you glance down at your knuckles, raw and stained red, the adrenaline fading just enough for the sting to set in.

“c’mon,” he grabs your uninjured hand carefully and without another word, he leads you through the dispersing crowd, up the stairs and into the safety of his room.

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎

you stand in jeno’s bathroom, the fluorescent light above casting a soft glow on both of you. he dabs the small, barely any, blood that had stained your knuckles, applying ointment on the tiny wounds.

“you’re being dramatic, there’s barely anything there,” you mutter, watching how focused he is.

“just don’t want it to get infected,” he says quietly, his brows still drawn together.

then with a soft chuckle, “i can’t believe you punched him,” he smiles his trademark smile and for a second, you forget you were currently angry at him.

“no one hurts my neno and gets away with it,” you tease, the words light on your tongue, but they steal the air from jeno’s lungs. you were always protecting him.

your eyes meet his and the moment stretches. but then you remember yourself, remember why your chest is tight and your heart is sore. so you press your lips into a thin line, forcing away the smile that appeared.

a quiet silence hangs in the air, heavy, almost awkward, until jeno’s voice breaks it, “done,” he says, turning to leave the bathroom and into his bedroom.

before he could take another step, your hand captures his wrist.

“your face is bleeding,” you point out.

you guide him to sit on the edge of the tub, slotting yourself between his legs. no matter how mad you guys are at each other, this is what you do. you take care of each other. your fingers are careful, precise, as you press a cotton pad soaked in alcohol to the gash on his temple.

a particular swipe on the cut stings him, a hiss slipping past his lips as his hands instinctively finds the back of your thighs, gripping, like he’s grounding himself through you. the small contact is enough to bring back that familiar knot tightening in your stomach.

“stop being a baby,” you say, dabbing again, “this is your fault.”

he smirks faintly, “how are you so sure i started the fight?”

“please,” you scoff, “in what world would sungchan go up to you and punch you? especially since he’s in your territory,” you point out, quite familiar with the whole fraternity rules.

he sighs in defeat.

“what happened anyway?,” you ask cautiously, not sure if you were ready for the answer.

“nothing,” he says, a little too quickly.

you stop, eyes narrowing, “no secrets between us remember?,” you remind him.

right, that silly rule you made when you were eight years old and still held on to to do this day.

jeno sighs, his shoulder falling, “he said something about you. i didn’t like it,” he confesses and you still.

“what did he say about me?,” you ask, curious.

“that he only wanted you because you were a virgin,” he mutters, jaw clenching again like it’s the first time he’s hearing it. the urge to punch sungchan in the face coming back in seconds.

it was supposed to hurt. it was supposed to leave you angry, embarrassed, hollow — to hear those words coming from the boy you’ve had a crush on since freshman year. but that feeling of heartache never came. instead, confusion clouds your chest.

why did he care? that wasn’t supposed to be his battle.

“hmm,” you hum thoughtfully, tone laced with challenge “and what if i was okay with that?”

his hands on your legs twitch, just slightly

“you shouldn’t be,” he snaps, “you shouldn’t lose it to a guy like him.”

and just like that, the anger ignites. your hands finish cleaning him up in cold, calculated movements. you removed yourself from his space, placing the first aid kit back in the drawer with a little too much force, organizing everything just to keep from exploding because who the hell was he to decide who you should have sex with?

“oh? and who should i lose it to?,” you seethe.

“a guy like you?,” there’s a sort of anger in your voice that jeno can’t quite read.

“aren’t you the same?,” you throw at him, voice trembling with fury.

jeno furrows his brows at your insinuation, like he’s been slapped, “y/n–,”

“you left, jeno,” your voice is quiet, but it slices through the space between you like a blade. you give him one last look before storming out of the bathroom. and jeno finally understands it all.

“wait, bunny–”

you don’t stop. not even as you hear his footsteps close behind you, not even as your chest rises with every breath that feels too heavy to hold.

you make it into his bedroom but before you can reach for the door, his hands close around your wrist, gentle but firm and in the next second he spins you around and crashes his lips onto yours.

the fire in your chest blazes and still, you kiss him back.

the kiss melts into something deeper, hungrier. your hands grip his shirt as his thumb brushes your jaw. he pulls away just enough to press his forehead against yours, both of you breathless, hearts racing.

“that’s why i left,” he murmurs, voice barely a whisper between your shared air.

your brows draw together, confusion clouding your gaze, “what does that even mean?”

“can’t you feel it,” he says, guiding your hand to his chest, letting you feel the frantic rhythm beneath your palm, “the way my heart is beating, it only ever races like this because of you,” he confesses.

you swallow hard, barely finding your voice, “but you left,” you remind him, “why did you leave?”

his eyes flicker with something raw, something that’s been buried for too long, “because i couldn’t pretend anymore,” he says, voice shaking with the weight of it, “i couldn't go another day being your best friend–not when im so fucking in love with you that it hurts.”

his confession leaves you stunned and you can’t believe how blind you’ve both been. all these years of mutual pining, years of missed moments, of stolen glances and silent aching all leading up to this moment.

a tearful laugh escapes you, half breathless, half broken, “you’re a fucking idiot,” you whisper, voice shaking with the force of everything you feel, a mixture of love, frustration and the tenderness of finally hearing the truth.

with urgency, a quiet desperation, you pull him back in, leaning up to kiss him.

the kiss is slow but intense, full of everything you’ve both kept hidden, everything you’ve both wanted for so long.

jeno doesn't need to hear you say it. he feels it in the way your lips meet his, the way you kiss him like your very existence depends on it. he knows now that you’ve been waiting for this – waiting for each other, for the truth that was always there.

you deepen the kiss and jeno meets you with equal fervor, tongues moving with an ease that feels natural, as if it’s a rhythm you’ve both known forever.

you guide him towards you, steps slow but deliberate, until the back of your knees hits the edge of his bed, falling into the softness of his sheets, pulling him down with you, lips never once breaking from his.

pushing yourself up until your head hit his pillows. jeno follows your lips like you were magnets drawn together. he couldn’t get enough.

you pull on the hem of his shirt. jeno quickly tugs it off over his head, tossing it to the side, diving right back into you. the kiss is hungry, steamy, full of tongue, leaving you no room to breathe.

your fingers dance through his skin, feeling every muscle. jeno guides you to sit up, quickly finding the zipper in the back of the dress, sliding it off your body, leaving you in a lacy blue underwear that makes his cock twitch.

the dress didn’t warrant a bra, your breasts immediately exposed to the cool air, making jeno groan in satisfaction, his large hand latches on to your tit, loving the way it fits perfectly in his hand.

“you’re so beautiful, bunny,” he praises before his tongue circles against your sensitive nipple. he looks up, not wanting to miss your reaction. light, breathy moans spill from your lips, back arching at his touch, feeling every warmth he left behind.

he moved all throughout your body, taking his time, memorizing every detail, worshipping you with every brush of his lips.

his hand slip under your panties, wet and soaking for him. the familiar circles of his fingers on your clit immediately sends a wave of pleasure through you. you were already shaking, that fire inside you growing.

that delicious stretch of your pussy as he stuck two digits in makes your eyes roll back, overwhelming in the best way possible, a broken moan spilling from your lips. your hips move on their own, grinding on his hand, chasing that friction you can’t get enough of.

jeno has already memorized you. curling his fingers just right, dragging them against that spot that made your thoughts scatter, heat spreading through you so quickly.

“jeno—” his name left you as a gasp, pleasure building deep inside you. this time you knew what it was, “i-m coming,” you moan.

“i got you bunny, let me hear you” he whispered, his pace quickening, matching the frantic way your body moved with his touch, until you were spilling into his hand.

he coaxes you through it, littering soft kisses on your ear, along your jaw, down to your neck — making sure to leave a mark.

making sure everyone knew that you were his.

your eyes flutter open. there was still that growing fire inside you, burning hotter, higher. you needed more.

when you reach down for his belt, fingers clumsily fumbling at the buckle, urgency pushing you faster than your hands could manage, jeno snaps out of the trance he’s in, making his way back to your eyes.

“are you sure?,” he gasped, the words rushed, like he was forcing them out before he lost all sense of reason.

you nodded so fast, so desperate, “jeno, please.”

“we don’t have to do this, bunny, we can take it slow…i don’t want to rush you,” he panted, voice fraying at the edges. the thought of stopping absolutely wrecks him but you are more important than the desire spreading through him.

you refuse to wait any longer, you’ve already waited years. your whole body aches with the need you’d kept buried for so long. the need only he could fulfill.

“neno,” you whispered, voice trembling with need, “i want this…i need you.”

his resolve shattered at the sound of your plea.

“okay,” he breathed, kissing you gently before finally discarding his pants, boxers following suit, leaving him completely bare.

slowly, he removed your panties, the last remaining cloth between you. he reaches over his nightstand drawer, pulling out a condom and wrapping it on his hard cock, a grunt spilling from his lips.

“still sure?,” he searches your eyes for any signs of hesitation because if there was, even the tiniest one, he would stop immediately. no questions asked. no regret. no matter how badly he didn’t want to.

“so sure neno, it’s always been you,” you whispered, threading your fingers through his hair, pulling him closer, letting him know that every single piece of you wanted him — heart, body and soul.

that was his final confirmation.

he kissed you once, slow and tender, before his hands roamed, leaving goosebumps that made you ache even more, “i’ll go slow,” he promised, voice thick with emotion “tell me if you need to stop, okay? at any point bunny, i’ll stop.”

you nodded, your heart hammering against your ribs so loudly you were sure he could hear it. fear and want and overwhelming love swirling in your chest.

finally, he aligned his cock against your hole, hand shaking slightly as he guided himself into you.

the stretch burns — it was nothing like his fingers, his cock was harder, thicker, fuller. and you’re not entirely sure if he could fit.

instinctively you tensed, eyes shutting close at the pain, a whiny hiss slipping from your lips.

jeno immediately froze, his thumb stroking soothing circles against your hip, “you’re doing so good, bunny,” he praises, forehead resting against yours, “breathe for me okay? we can take all the time you need,” he was so soft, so caring, so gentle.

your fingers tighten on his shoulder, just for a second, letting him know that you understood.

jeno fought to stay still, fought to put you first. but god, it hurts. you felt so good around him. so tight. so warm. he needed to move.

you forced yourself to relax, letting out a shaky breath and he pressed forward again, slower this time, giving you time to adjust to another inch of him.

“almost there, bunny, just a couple more,” he says softly, treating you like glass. you were so fragile. so pretty. your eyebrows furrowing in pain, lips parted slightly.

it hurt but it was jeno, and that made it bearable. your tight walls continued to adjust around him, molding to the size of his large cock.

with one final, gentle push, he was fully seated inside you, grunts spilling from his lips onto yours.

he stayed there, not moving, just breathing with you. trying to control his own desires. one hand cradles your cheek, carefully pushing away the hair that has stuck to your skin, “you’re amazing,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple, “taking all of me,” he continues praising, “so perfect, bunny.”

a few tears slid from your eyes. from the sting, from the love, from everything. jeno kissed them away with such tenderness.

“i love you,” you manage to whisper, his lips on yours in an instant, savoring it. the words makes jeno shift inside you.

that small burst of friction is enough to ignite the pleasure. it still hurt but you needed to feel it, to feel more.

and when you finally whispered, “move, please,” jeno felt like the air was rushing back in his lungs.

only then did he start rocking into you — careful, controlled, every movement meant to bring you closer to pleasure.

he angles his cock perfectly, each thrust sending a a wave of butterflies in your stomach. the pain slowly disappeared as your walls sucked him in, until you were only left with pleasure so mind numbing, you can no longer think about anything but the way the tip of his cock kept on kissing that spot that made you see stars. he was perfect.

“fuckkk bunny, you take me so well, pussy was made for me,” jeno grunts hopelessly. he was coming undone embarrassingly fast. for someone who was supposed to be an expert, you had him trembling, shaking.

it was different with you ��� he loves you.

every emotion hits him to the fullest. he feels you all around him. his rhythm starting to stutter, abs starting to clench as he tried to hold on to the remaining sanity he had left.

“you’re making a mess out of me,” he grunts, “please come on my cock,” he begs, whines, pleading for permission. his fingers finding your sensitive bud, rubbing slow but harsh circles.

you’ve never felt fuller. never felt more satisfied. that heat spreading down to your toes, your head rolling back in complete bliss as the high came crashing over you in breathy, broken moans of only his name — pussy immediately tightening around him, sending him to his own release as he spilled into the condom.

through it all, jeno whispered against your skin, grunts of i love you’s and praises hitting your ears in the most melodic way.

when you both calmed down, he pulled you into his arms, head resting on the heart that’s always been yours.

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎

you woke up to jeno’s brown eyes already staring at you, his fingers gently threading through your hair.

“good morning,” he murmured, eye smile on display and in an instant the memories of last night came rushing back, vivid and electric.

“good morning” you whispered back, both of you grinning like lovesick fools.

“how are you feeling?” he asks softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

you smile at him, “i feel amazing,” you say, leaning up to kiss him.

his hand on your waist is hard to ignore. as well as the bulge that’s currently hitting your inner thigh.

“and you’re feeling excited, aren’t you?,” you pull back, slightly teasing him.

“shut up,” he smiles, cheeks flushing, “it’s not my fault i woke up next to my very hot girlfriend”

your eyes widen slightly, “girlfriend, huh?”

“mhm, is that okay with you, bunny?”

“hmm,” you pretend to think about it but the smile tugging on your lips betrays you, “sounds perfect.”

jeno pulled you in for another kiss, his smile pressed against yours. before he could deepen it, you pushed him down to his bed sheets, hovering over him with a gleam in your eyes.

“what are you doing?,” he rasped, the bold movement catching him off guard, making his breath shift, excitement coursing through his veins.

“girlfriend duties,” you smirk.

you littered kisses down his body until you were head to head with his cock, already flushed, thick and throbbing for you.

without hesitation, you licked a slow stripe up his length, tasting him, humming in satisfaction before wrapping your lips around his tip and taking in as much of his length as you could.

jeno watched you, his hands behind his head, a proud smirk on his face. and when you look up to make eye contact with him, his smirk fades into a helpless groan.

“fuck, you’re gonna kill me,” his hand instantly threading into your hair, bunching it up and pushing it out of your face. he wanted to see you. wanted to see your mouth around him.

you hollowed your cheeks and started to move, bobbing your head at that speed you knew he liked.

what can you say? you’re a quick learner.

his hips twitched, barely holding back from fucking your mouth.

every wet, obscene sound filled the room, and you loved the way he was falling apart for you, chest heaving, hands gripping you tighter. his grunts make you clench around nothing.

jeno came in minutes, gasping for your name as he struggled to breathe. his hot release shoots down your throat. this time, you swallowed every single drop, milking him dry, only pulling off when he whimpered from overstimulation, pushing your hand away.

“how the hell are you already so good at that?,” he groans, the aftershocks of his orgasm still hitting him.

“i have a really good teacher,” you chuckle, making your way back to him, kissing him, making him taste his own juices as your tongues battled for dominance.

jeno flips you over, roughly, quickly, the sudden shift making you squeal in laughter, as he settles in between your legs.

“your turn,” he says, voice low and dangerous.

his mouth immediately laps around you, licking, sucking, spitting — filthy and hungry. it was so messy, so wet, so crude, and yet it felt so so good. your head is spinning, heart racing, thighs trembling

you’re right there, at the edge, ready to fall — and then the door swings wide open. you shriek, arms crossing, immediately covering your chest just as jeno scrambles to hover over you, covering every inch of you with his large frame.

“jeno what do you want for break—?” jaemin barges in, stepping into the room like he hasn’t just shattered the moment.

“oh,” jaemin smirks, this situation extremely familiar, “i see,” he teases, tone dripping with fake innocence.

jeno’s entire body stiffens, his butt literally clenching as he growls, “jaemin, get the fuck out.”

he doesn't spare the boy a glance, focused only on making sure he doesn’t see any part of your body.

jaemin bursts out laughing, “alright alright, enjoy your breakfast,” he says before locking the door behind him and leaving the two of you alone.

the second he’s gone, jeno exhales a heavy breath of relief. you both lie there, faces burning red.

“i’m gonna kill him,” he mutters before the two of you erupted in giggles, your shared laughter harmonizing in the air.

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎

a week of being jeno’s girlfriend could only be described as pure bliss. the perfect balance of best friends and lovers. you were the power couple, always walking into the room like you owned it.

not much has changed between you two, you still tell him to shut up, he’s still dramatic, still the best of friends, except this time there’s a million shared kisses, lingering touches, whispered confessions and sex (lots of sex).

he’s unlocked something in you. something wild, primal, greedy — desire wrapping it’s hands around you. you can’t get enough of him. you craved him again and again and again.

and jeno was just undone, just as hopelessly in love. he thought his sex drive was bad before, it’s even worse now. every little thing you did triggered him — a smile, a glance, a soft laugh, it all sent him spiraling, desperate to have you. his need for you was overwhelming, a fire he had no intention of putting out.

he taught you how to touch yourself, you watched him masturbate. he kissed you in places you never knew were sensitive, made love to you in so many different positions, locations, each one leaving you breathless and trembling in his arms — making up for all the lost time.

today, when jeno walked into the library, he noticed your figure missing from your usual shared table. you were supposed to be here by now, you were always here at this hour.

his eyes quickly scan the space, feet walking around, searching every corner, every dusty nook, trying to find a glimpse of you. he finally spots you at the corner, tucked away in the back with the old shelves filled with forgotten books.

“what are you doing all the way over here?,” he asks, snapping your attention towards him, as he placed a soft kiss on your temple.

“just wanted a quieter place to read,” you feign innocence, picking up your book and pretending to be interested once more. jeno doesn’t question it, just pulls out the chair beside you and sits, his thigh pressed hard against yours. he pulls out his assignments, busying himself.

“neno,” you call out to him, a playful flicker in your eyes as you put your book down, “want to know a fun fact?,” you say.

he smiles at you, still unaware of what you had brewing in your mind, “sure, bunny.”

you lean in close, your chest brushing against his arm, “i’m not wearing any panties,” you whisper, only for his ear to hear.

he gulps, eyes quickly scanning the room, afraid someone was close enough to hear that. when he realizes you two were definitely alone, he finally takes in the fact that you were wearing a cute pink skirt, “fuck, are you serious?,” he whispers.

you shrug, “why don’t you find out?,” picking up your book, a playful grin on your lips, you flipped through the pages pretending to be interested, excitement bubbling inside you.

you didn’t have to tell him twice.

you flinched slightly when his cold fingertips first made contact with your thigh, slowly slipping underneath your skirt, leaving a trail of goosebumps. you barely had time to react before his fingers slipped between your thighs, urging them apart.

and when he finds you bare and soaked for him, jeno can’t help but let out a groan, his cock twitching in his pants.

you just started a dangerous game and he was eager to play. eager to ruin you in this public space. excited to watch you try and hide your moans.

“so fucking warm,” he muttered, fingers collecting your juices as he slowly swiped up and down your folds, making you feel every graze of his finger.

you grabbed the edges of the book, trying to stay calm, trying to act normal even as jeno slowly, deeply slid a finger inside you.

you choke on a silent gasp, disguising it with a fake cough and jeno finds it absolutely amusing. he has no plans of taking it easy on you, especially since this was your brilliant idea.

he moved lazily at first, curling his finger inside you, feeling every clench, every desperate little twitch of your body. watching you bite your lip as you tried to contain the moans that we’re begging to be released.

“good girl,” he murmured, kissing you on the temple.

his free hand picks up his pencil, as he continued to work on his assignment, like you weren’t falling apart under the table, “just stay quiet for me, yeah?,” he smirks.

you don’t even manage a response. afraid that once you open your mouth, a loud moan of his name would slip out.

he starts writing in his notebook, fingers still moving inside you, edging you on with every second. you shifted in your seat, hips tilting up without meaning to, chasing the rhythm he set. needing him to go faster — to finally take you there.

jeno knew exactly what you needed, even without voicing it. he adds a second finger, stretching you wider, making your eyes flutter shut, your grip on your book tightening, holding onto it as if it was your lifeline.

your boyfriend grinned cockily as he fucked his fingers into you.

you thought you were safe, hidden enough until you heard distant footsteps of someone wandering nearby.

your eyes immediately snap to jeno, silently begging him to stop as you tried to shut your legs close.

but his hand was too strong, keeping you open for his fingers, “you wanted this, you’re gonna take it,” he mumbles into your hair. he didn’t stop. in fact, his thumb brushed against your clit, harsher, faster.

you buried your head in your book, biting your lip so hard it hurt, but still a tiny strangled whimpered escaped.

the footsteps paused, just for a second.

you held your breath, heat traveling up to your head, jeno still working under your skirt. the danger of being caught made it even hotter. your pulse pounding loud in your ears, body burning under his touch. and then the footsteps continued, fading into silence again.

jeno chuckles under his breath, fingers thrusting deeper, faster, his thumb never leaving your clit.

“almost got caught, bunny,” he teased, voice low and thick with lust, “bet you’d love that, huh?”

the thought made you tighten incredibly around his fingers, orgasm crashing over you like a wave you couldn’t stop, body jerking slightly in the chair as you hunched over the table, hiding your moans in your arms, desperately trying to stay as quiet as possible.

jeno’s fingers continued to work you through it until you were limp against the table, panting softly.

he pulled his fingers out slowly, letting you feel every second of it. you already felt so empty without him. he brings his fingers up to his lips, sucking them clean with a soft, sinful groan.

you sit up, watching him, wrecked and cheeks flushed, your heart pounding so hard it was all you could hear, a small satisfied grin on your lips.

jeno leans in, kissing you gently. you taste yourself on his lips, then he smirks, that devilish smirk, whispering against your ear, “next time…you’re sitting in my lap.”

𓏲 the end.

—

18+ only | watch at your own risk | contains mature content

bonus: this is so lee jeno x bunny coded -> click here

—

an: posted this earlier than i planned because if i even spend one more day with this, i’m never gonna stop writing but ahhh i can’t believe my time with this couple is over, i love them so bad!!! i hope you loved them too!

marks story is up next! since he did technically win the poll — pls give me nickname suggestions for mark’s girl! i’m currently thinking kitty but im not 100% sold >.< — she’s going to be a little more feisty than the others! slide in my ask for suggestions or simply comment here! pls!

likes, reblogs and comments are not required but is very appreciated ⏦ﾟ♡︎

tagging: @bluedbliss [if you would like to be tagged in future stories of this series, please let me know <3]

[n0hyuck]

haechan flirts by making it painfully obvious that he's into you. he doesn't waste any time to beat around the bush — he's not shy to tell you corny pickup lines and stare at you any chance he gets. even winks when he gets caught. he's liked you for some time now, loves that you play so hard to get. haechan follows you around at parties, sneaking one or two flirty remarks that makes you roll your eyes. so fucking down bad! horrendously bad! likes your every instagram story and even replies, a series of "pretty as hell," and "please please please." at this point everyone knows that he's into you — he's all yours when you're not even his — and he loves it. says "i have a wife," every time someone tries to flirt with him, winking at you after. he feels on top of the world whenever you laugh at his jokes. he's poking his cheek with his tongue, grinning — "think i'm funny, pretty girl? i can make you laugh so much more if you'd go out with me."

[n0hyuck]

accidentally falling back — lee jeno by @haeiheart [part two out of two]

summary! You were bored, a little tipsy, and way too online— so you tweeted a dramatic ranking of your exes, complete with oversharing and emotional damage. You didn’t think they’d actually see it, much less respond. But only one caught your eye. The quiet one. The one who never said much but always seemed to say the right thing. And somehow, Lee Jeno’s reply does something no one else’s could: it makes you feel everything all over again.

pairing! ex! lee jeno x reader genre! exes 2 lovers, slow burn?, second chance, fluff, angst (angst time people!!)

warnings/mentions! reader interacts with other ex dreamies! sakura (lsrfm) and jiwoong (zb1) as y/n best friends! they both painfully want each other! kind of stupid break up? jeno is a cutie (a real one at that) very sulky asw, not exactly miscom… but beware of the arguements that eventually happens. nct frat once again (bye i cant help myself), some 127 members appear!!!

notes! this is a continuation of “ranking dreamies as ex bfs! post!” I wasn’t planning to give it a written fic continuation but i caved in after someone asked for it which i will gladly give to yall!! i hope you enjoy the two parts i had to make because this was too long that it exceeded the word limit… also this was not proofread so umm hopefully there’s no embarrassing mistakes. here is the twitter thread also the context behind this fic -> here!

word count! 10.4k out of 34.6k

PART ONE -> here!

It didn’t take long after that night for things to fall into a new rhythm, if you could even call it that. A rhythm implies stability, some kind of predictable beat, and this? This thing between you and Jeno was a chaotic symphony of kisses stolen between class, fingers laced under the table at someone’s afterparty, him tugging you down onto his bed with that needy look in his eyes that made your knees weak no matter how many times you swore you’d “take it slow tonight.”

You still had your own apartment. Technically. But the truth was, you hadn’t slept there in days. Your spare toothbrush was now sitting in a cracked blue cup in the frat’s shared bathroom (Jaemin had stolen it once as a joke and Jeno nearly went to war for it). Your charger was permanently plugged into the outlet by Jeno’s bed. You knew which of the guys snored, which ones left the milk out, and who always tried to eavesdrop outside Jeno’s room whenever things got too quiet between you two.

You didn’t mind. In fact, you liked it. You liked how easy it was to fall into Jeno’s world. How he’d quietly shuffle into the kitchen in the morning and pour you cereal before you’d even asked. How he’d tug you onto his lap during movie nights, arms caging you in like you belonged there. How he kissed you so often, so deeply, distractedly like he couldn’t help himself.

It was easy. Natural. Maybe even too natural.

Because then came the little cracks.

You’d been curled against him on a slow Thursday evening, your head on his chest while the movie played forgotten in the background. His fingers had lazily traced your spine through your shirt. And it was so intimate, so safe, you let yourself ask—

“Do you ever talk about me to the guys?”

Jeno hummed. “All the time.”

“What do you say?”

He didn’t answer immediately, just chuckled and tucked your hair behind your ear, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “They know I’m crazy about you.”

Your heart fluttered at that but it wasn’t exactly what you’d asked. Still, you smiled, leaned into him. Let it go. For now.

Another time, someone had asked if you and Jeno were “a thing” in front of him. You froze, watching him expectantly. But Jeno had just laughed, mumbled something like “yeah, whatever you wanna call it,” before moving on to refill his drink. You told yourself not to read into it. You told yourself you knew how he felt.

But then came the silence in the quietest spaces. The kind that crept in after he kissed you goodnight, but didn’t say anything else. The kind that settled when you woke up next to him and he was already on his phone, scrolling through something with a sleepy smile, without a single word. Not cold. Not distant. Just… comfortably unbothered.

And that was the problem, wasn’t it?

Because in his head, everything was fine. You were his. He treated you like it, talked to you like it, held you like it. But never once, not once, did he actually say the words.

And no matter how many kisses or lazy mornings or nights tangled in his sheets you shared, that absence began to echo.

You started to wonder if this was it. If this was all he’d give. If he thought the pieces he offered were enough to build a whole future on.

And maybe they should’ve been. But it was the not-knowing that killed you.

So when he held your hand under the table, when he brushed his lips over your knuckles with that soft smile, your stomach twisted. Because how could he not see it? How could he not know that you needed to hear it?

That love, real love, wasn’t always silent.

That sometimes, it needed to be said.

And yet… he hadn’t asked. Not officially. Not once.

He never said you’re mine or do you wanna be my girlfriend or even something low effort like so, this is a thing now, right? Nothing. Just the kisses. The clinginess. The soft smiles that felt like promises.

You didn’t know if it was just you overthinking, overreading. But at night, curled up beside him in that too small mattress, when he’d kiss your shoulder or whisper dumb things into your neck while half asleep, a part of you always wondered. Does he think this is real? Or am I just convenient now?

Jeno, on the other hand, had no clue you were spiraling. Because to him? You were his. Full stop. As far as he was concerned, the moment your lips crashed into his at that party, when you tangled your fingers in his hoodie and moaned into his mouth like you couldn’t get close enough, yeah, that was it. That was his internal “she’s mine now” switch flipping.

He didn’t need to ask. In his brain, the way he spoon-fed you spicy ramen when you were hungover, the way you wiped ketchup off his cheek with your thumb, the way you whispered his name when you were curled up in his sheets, that was already the answer.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to ask. It was just... he already believed it was true.

So he kissed you like he was kissing his girlfriend. He gave you that boyish, sleepy grin like you were his person. He curled his fingers around your waist under the covers like it was a given.

And you let him. Because you wanted it too. But still, something inside you itched every time someone referred to you as “Jeno’s girl,” and you couldn’t quite figure out if it made you warm or made you worry.

Still, neither of you said a word.

So days turned into weeks. Kisses turned into patterns. His room turned into a shared sanctuary. The boys rolled their eyes when you emerged from Jeno’s room wearing his hoodie again. You rolled yours back, but part of you loved it.

Because he looked at you like you were it.

And you touched him like he was yours.

But somewhere between his steady hands and your tangled sheets, a question was still waiting to be answered.

And neither of you knew when or if it’d finally come out.

The memories you had with Jeno after the kiss were the ones you found yourself replaying at the oddest moments. Half asleep at your desk. In line at the campus café. Walking home after class with your headphones in but no music playing. They weren’t just memories, they were anchors. Little flashes of warmth that reminded you how real it all felt.

You remembered the late night he’d taken you to the bookstore downtown. It had been pouring, and instead of waiting for the rain to let up, he grabbed your hand and ran for it, both of you slipping and shrieking through puddles until you slammed into the warm glass doors. You were both soaked. The store was nearly empty. The clerk gave you a look that screamed please don’t drip on the papers.

But Jeno had just laughed and pulled you deeper into the aisles. You ended up huddled together in the graphic novel section, reading snippets out loud to each other in the soft, fluorescent glow. He pointed to a panel and went, “That’s you. The chaotic raccoon character,” and you slapped his arm. “Excuse me, I’m obviously the heroine. You’re the one with the emotionally repressed villain arc.”

He just grinned. “Can’t lie, I do like knives.”

You kissed him in the corner of that bookstore, rain still lashing the windows, and he held you like he never wanted to let go.

Then there was the night he made dinner at the frat house, like actual dinner, not cereal or ramen. He’d kicked everyone out of the kitchen and cooked while you sat on the counter, watching him dance to some dorky playlist.

He’d stirred pasta like it was a military operation, then turned to you, tomato sauce on his cheek. “Chef Lee Jeno’s specialty,” he’d announced proudly, handing you a bowl.

You blinked. “This is just spaghetti.”

“Shut up and eat it.”

You did. It was salty. Horrible. He looked so smug.

You kissed him anyway.

There was also that time he surprised you with a thrift store date and said you both had ten dollars and thirty minutes to find the dumbest outfit possible for each other. You’d picked out a neon green windbreaker and a trucker hat that said “MILF hunter” (which he wore for the rest of the day, unironically). He chose a ruffled pink blouse and sparkly tights for you and nearly cried from laughter when you walked out of the dressing room.

“It’s giving... magical disco grandma,” he gasped, leaning on the nearest rack to keep himself from falling over.

You were breathless from laughing too hard. “You’re so lucky I like you.”

And then he’d said it.

So soft you almost missed it.

“I’m lucky, period.”

Your heart had clenched. You didn’t say anything. But you held his hand for the rest of the day like you were afraid it might slip out of yours.

Those moments were yours. Undeniably.

But still.

Still, he never clarified anything.

He never called you his girlfriend. Never said it out loud. Never had the “talk.” And at first, you didn’t need it. You didn’t even want it. The feelings were too new, too tender, too beautiful to define so soon. But days blurred into nights and weeks into months, and each kiss piled on top of the last like bricks in a home you weren’t sure you were allowed to claim.

You’d spend a full afternoon with him and go home aching with joy… only to spiral at 1 a.m. because someone asked if you were together and you didn’t know how to answer.

Because what if you said yes and he said no?

What if you looked at him and saw a future and he looked at you and only saw now?

You didn’t want to ruin it by asking. But not asking was starting to ruin you.

So you let the memories carry you, like echoes of a love story halfway written. You held on to the laughter, the cooking disasters, the way he said your name like it was something sacred.

But somewhere in between all the soft touches and jokes and early mornings with tangled sheets and tangled hearts, the silence had grown too loud.

And all you wanted more than anything was for him to say it.

Just once.

You didn’t plan to go insane. Honestly, you didn’t even realize you were insane, not at first. It wasn’t dramatic, not this grand emotional unraveling. It was smaller than that. Quieter. Just little things you’d been stuffing into the corners of your mind for weeks. A slow, creeping discomfort you couldn’t name at the time. Things like the glance Jeno didn’t return when you looked at him too long. Or the way his fingers sometimes brushed yours without catching, without holding on. The way he touched you so gently, so confidently, like you belonged to him already.

Like he’d already decided you were his without ever asking if you agreed.

And maybe that was the part that made your chest ache the most. That somewhere along the way, the affection turned habitual. The kisses came easier than words. The late nights curled into each other’s limbs began to feel like routines. But in all the moments of closeness, you were still waiting. Waiting for the part where he said it. Where he made it real. Where it wasn't just the way he smiled at you like a promise, but the way he said it out loud, clear and honest.

You didn’t need grand gestures or some romantic speech. You just needed the clarity that you were his girl and not just because you acted like it.

Which is why it hit you sideways that afternoon, lazily folded into the lumpy couch in the frat house living room, with Jaehyun’s voice pulling you out of your thoughts mid conversation. You were talking about your evening plans, maybe grabbing drinks with Kkura, maybe seeing if Jaemin wanted to go somewhere stupid like that claw machine café you both found hilarious.

“Oh, I should probably text Jaem back too,” you said without much thought, aimlessly scrolling through your phone. “We all might grab dinner near his old place.”

Jaehyun looked up from his drink, expression half focused, brows lifting slightly. “That cool with Jeno?”

You blinked, still caught in the haze of your phone screen. “What?”

He gave you a mild shrug, like it wasn’t even a weird question. “Just figured. I mean, you two are basically joined at the hip. Thought he’d be coming with or something.”

You tilted your head, genuinely confused. “Why would I have to run it by him?”

Jaehyun paused, squinting like he was making sure you were serious. “...Because you’re dating?”

Your heart skipped something ugly. “Wait, what?”

His face changed then, surprise softening into disbelief. “You’re not?”

You sat up straighter, like your body was trying to escape the weight of the conversation. “No. We’re not. He never—” You faltered. “We never talked about it.” Though you had been feeling down about it, you wouldn't have guessed everybody thought that you two were real. Everybody felt that you two were real, besides you.

Jaehyun’s lips parted, like he had more questions, but he stopped himself. Instead, he leaned back, blowing out a slow breath, gaze flicking toward the wall like it held better answers than you did. “Huh. Wild.” He didn’t sound judgy. Just surprised. “Could’ve sworn. You two act like… you know.”

“Yeah,” you said, quieter now. “I know.”

He nodded, not pushing. “Well. Shit. You guys do you, I guess.”

That was it. That was all.

And somehow, it felt like your entire chest caved in.

Because it wasn’t just Jaehyun. It wasn’t just some misunderstanding. It was that everyone thought you were already something. And maybe Jeno thought that too. But you didn’t know for sure, not really, and the fact that you had to hear it from someone else before confronting it yourself? That made it worse.

Worse than every unspoken kiss. Worse than every moment you leaned into him and felt him hesitate. Worse than the fact that it wasn’t even the first time you'd wondered, is this it? Is this enough?

Now you were left with the awful question of why he hadn’t said anything. Why he hadn’t asked. Why did he look at you like you were his but never gave you the courtesy of making it true?

The couch suddenly felt suffocating. The frat house is too loud. Your throat thickened with the weight of pretending you hadn’t just been gutted by the simplest misunderstanding in the world.

Because maybe that’s all it was to him. Just something simple. Just assumed.

But not real.

Not to you.

It started accidentally.

You didn’t mean to start spending every day with Jaemin, Kkura, and somehow Haechan. But after that offhand conversation with Jaehyun left your stomach in knots, the idea of returning to the frat house felt suffocating. You needed air, space, clarity, and without meaning to, Jaemin gave it to you.

It started with a casual text:

[jaemin]: “yo i need you to save me. I almost bought cargo pants with embroidered skulls.”

He was joking. Probably. But you were already halfway to the thrift strip he mentioned before he could follow up with a location pin. And somewhere between talking him out of the skull pants and getting into a passive aggressive argument over which candle scent was more “emotionally healing,” Haechan appeared. Apparently, he and Jaemin bonded over beer pong at the last party, and now, somehow, Haechan was just there.

You might’ve raised an eyebrow at first, but then Kkura showed up for “moral support” and just like that, the four of you were a unit.

One day melted into the next, coffees that turned into late lunches, spontaneous thrift store raids, trips to claw machine arcades where Haechan kept winning tiny plushies and pretending to give them away before stuffing them in his own pockets. Jaemin dragged you into dressing rooms just to spin dramatically in jackets he wasn’t going to buy, and Kkura began documenting every hangout with blurry candids, some of which were suspiciously well-timed to catch your reactions to Haechan’s dumb jokes.

You'd barely notice when the sun dipped below the horizon because you were too busy arguing with Jaemin over whether or not a hideous crocheted vest counted as “ironic hot.”

“It’s giving... decaying garden gnome,” you told him, arms crossed, tilting your head at his reflection in the dusty thrift store mirror.

“Exactly,” Jaemin said, striking a pose like he was on a runway. “Avant-garde. Revolutionary. I am fashion.”

“You are delusional,” Haechan muttered from the corner, clutching three different denim jackets he was trying to get you all to help him pick between.

“Take the one that doesn’t make you look like a backup dancer in an early 2000s boy band,” Kkura offered, barely glancing up from her phone as she snapped a picture of Jaemin mid-pose.

It was blurry, but your laugh in the background was clear. She smirked. “That’s going on the album.”

There was an album. Kkura had started it half as a joke, uploading blurry candids of the four of you under the group chat name: Himbohub.

Most of them were from the arcade. That became your usual stop after class when no one wanted to go home just yet. It was loud and colorful and kind of sticky, but in a charming, childhood nostalgia way. Haechan took the claw machines as a personal challenge. He won something almost every time, usually a squishy animal or one of those weird bootleg characters that looked just off enough to be cursed.

“This one’s for you,” he said solemnly, holding out a wonky looking pink cat with one eye half-sewn shut.

Your hand had barely reached out when he jerked it away.

“Psyche. She’s mine now.” And he shoved it into his hoodie pocket like it was treasure.

You hit him. He grinned like it was worth it.

Jaemin, meanwhile, kept wasting tokens on the photo booth, not for the photos, but because he liked watching the countdown stress you out.

“Three… two— oh no you blinked, let’s do another.”

“I swear to God, if I see one more photo of me mid-blink—”

“Too late. Already printed. Frame it for your wall.”

Kkura usually sat on the edge of the dance game machine, snapping pictures, yelling out scores, and stealing sips from whatever drink was closest. She once forced you and Jaemin to compete on DDR, but Jaemin started voguing halfway through and lost spectacularly.

“Performance over perfection,” he said, flipping imaginary hair as Haechan booed him.

You’d find yourself laughing so hard your stomach hurts. Sweating from too many games, buzzing from sugar and soda and the warmth of having people who made the world feel big and safe and full of light.

You’d pile into someone’s car after, limbs tangled, fries shared, music blasting. Sometimes you’d end up back at your place, all of you crashing into the couch, talking about everything and nothing.

“Do you think ghosts get bored?” Kkura asked once, lying upside down with her legs thrown over the back of the sofa.

“They haunt people for fun, I think they’re good,” Haechan replied, mouth full of Cheetos.

“I hope I come back as one that just steals socks,” Jaemin added.

You had no idea how the conversation had ended up there, but you didn’t care. The night stretched on and on like it didn’t have to end.

Somewhere in between, Jaemin started walking closer to Haechan, their shoulders brushing more than necessary. Kkura began taking photos without telling anyone, catching the little in-between moments. Haechan started giving away his plushies without faking it. And you started feeling... good again. For the first time in a while.

They weren’t trying to fix you.

They were just with you.

Present.

Loud.

Warm.

And every time you laughed so hard you had to cover your face, every time Haechan shoved a drink into your hand or Jaemin swung an arm over your shoulder or Kkura silently handed you a tissue after an emotional overshare, you felt a little more like you again.

Even if the ache of Jeno still hovered under your skin like a bruise, even if his name still lived quietly in your mouth, even if your heart still tripped over itself every time your phone lit up...

For a while, in those days, in that haze of fried food and photo booth printouts and claw machine prizes, you almost forgot to hurt.

Almost.

It felt easy for now. Light. Uncomplicated in the way your life hadn’t been for a while.

Which is why, when Jaemin casually said, “Let’s swing by the house real quick, I forgot my charger in the living room,” you didn’t even blink.

You followed him up the walk to the frat house, familiar steps but a completely different feeling in your chest. The four of you were still talking as you came in through the side door, laughter carrying as you stepped into the kitchen. Haechan was saying something stupid, something about how you all should enter a reality show together as “the hot disaster friend group” and you were still wiping tears from your eyes when the air shifted.

It was small. Subtle.

But you felt it. That shift.

And then came the voice. Low. Pissy.

“What is he doing here?”

You froze like the words had been pointed directly at you. And in a way, they were.

Jeno stood just past the kitchen threshold, hand curled around a bottle of water, eyes locked on Haechan with something sharp in them. He didn’t even look at the rest of the group. Just you. Then Haechan. Then you again.

Your throat went dry. “We’re just hanging out.”

Jeno scoffed. Not even subtle about it. “Yeah, I can see that. Been doing a lot of that lately, huh?”

Jaemin’s brows furrowed immediately. “Yo, what’s your problem?”

“My problem?” Jeno’s voice dipped lower. “I haven’t seen her in days, and suddenly she’s just hanging out with—” his gaze flicked to Haechan again, “randoms.”

“We’re not randoms,” Kkura cut in sharply, her tone clipped. “Chill.”

But you were already stepping forward, heart thudding hard. “Jen, what’s going on?”

He didn’t answer you right away. Just looked at you with that same expression, something tight in his jaw, in his shoulders. It wasn’t just irritation. It was that ugly, festering thing that had clearly been building. And now it was cracking through the surface.

“Why are you hanging out with him?” he asked, barely masking the frustration. “Of all people?”

You blinked, stunned. “What?”

“Haechan,” he clarified, like it wasn’t obvious. “Your ex?”

You stared at him. “Jaemin is also my ex.”

“That’s different.”

“No, it’s not,” you snapped, eyes narrowing. “What’s your deal?”

“My deal is we’re dating.”

The words hit like a slap.

The silence that followed was loud, too loud. You could hear the soft hum of the fridge, the distant noise of someone moving upstairs. And you could feel every eye in the room shift between you and Jeno, but it didn’t matter anymore. All that mattered was the way your heart stuttered in your chest.

You stepped closer, voice suddenly low. “No we aren't you never asked…you thought we were dating?”

Jeno looked at you, confusion threading through the anger now. “Yeah? I mean, we’re always together. We’re kissing. We sleep next to each other. You’re always at the house.”

“And you never asked me,” you said, your voice cracking just slightly. “You never asked. You never even talked to me about it. You just assumed.”

Jeno opened his mouth, but you didn’t let him.

“You assumed I was yours because you touched me like I was. You kissed me like I was. But none of that ever came with a conversation, Jeno. None of it came with a single goddamn word. You just started acting like we were something and thought that was enough.”

He looked stunned. Like he couldn’t comprehend what he was hearing. “I didn’t think I had to say it. I thought it was obvious.”

You let out a breathless, bitter laugh. “Well, it wasn’t. And now I’m standing here, trying to explain why I’m allowed to hang out with my friends, and you’re losing your shit over something you never even claimed.”

Jeno looked at you, eyes wide, hurt, finally sinking in behind the disbelief.

“I’m not your girlfriend,” you said, voice shaking. “Because you never made me one.”

No one said anything.

Jaemin’s eyes dropped. Haechan looked away. Kkura put a gentle hand on your arm, but you barely felt it.

Jeno looked like he’d been punched in the stomach.

But you didn’t take it back.

You couldn’t.

Because the truth was, no matter how many kisses, how many laughs, how many nights tangled together on that shitty frat couch, none of it meant anything if it never came with a choice. A real one.

And you were done waiting to be chosen silently.

You didn’t even realize how tense your hands were until Kkura gently touched your arm. Just enough pressure to ground you. Just enough to remind you that you were standing in a room with three of your closest friends and Jeno was about to unravel something personal in front of all of them.

You could feel their eyes on you, Jaemin’s confusion, Haechan’s discomfort, Kkura’s concern and the longer you stood there, the more your pulse pounded like a war drum in your ears.

“We’re not doing this here,” you muttered, shooting a pointed look at Jeno.

He opened his mouth like he wanted to argue, but thought better of it. Silent, jaw tight, he followed you down the hallway to the same spare room you’d stormed into days ago, only this time the air was already thick before the door even shut.

You turned to face him. Your arms were crossed, but it wasn’t for defense, it was to keep yourself from shaking.

“What the fuck is going on with you?” you asked, sharp.

“Yes, I’m serious!” you snapped, taking a step forward. “You humiliated me back there in front of everyone because what— you’re mad that I haven’t been glued to your side for three fucking days?”

“I’m mad because you’ve been with him!” Jeno shouted back. “You and Haechan and Jaemin, running around like— like none of this means anything to you.”

Your chest caved with disbelief. “None of this means anything to me? Are you listening to yourself right now?”

“You didn’t even tell me where you were,” he said, frustrated, dragging a hand through his hair. “You just disappeared.”

“I didn’t disappear. I needed some goddamn space, Jeno. Because being with you feels like trying to read between the lines of something that never fucking ends.”

He stepped closer, voice rising. “You could’ve just said that.”

“I have! I’ve been trying to talk to you, trying to figure out where I stand, but every time I get close to asking, you kiss me instead or look at me like I’m already yours.”

“Because you are.”

“No, I’m fucking not!” you yelled. “You never asked. You never chose me, not really. You just assumed I was yours because it was convenient.”

Jeno looked like you’d slapped him. “That’s not fair.”

“Neither is being strung along like this,” you said, voice breaking. “You get all the perks of being with me, but none of the responsibility.”

His hands curled into fists at his sides. “That’s not true.”

“Then what are we, Jeno?” you asked, pushing the words out like venom. “Because I’m tired. I’m tired of pretending to be okay with not knowing what we are. With everyone else thinking I’m your girlfriend, while I sit there not even knowing if you’d claim me if someone asked you to your face.”

He exhaled sharply, eyes gleaming with something, rage or pain or both. “You want me to say it now, then? Is that what this is?”

“I want you to stop acting like loving me is implied!” you shouted. “Like I should just know!”

He looked at you, something behind his eyes shifting, snapping.

His voice snapped louder than you expected. “Well, maybe I didn’t think I needed the label when you were already acting like you’d say yes to anyone who gave you attention.”

Silence.

It was one of those moments where the world didn’t stop, it just went quiet.

Your heart dropped.

He saw it the second it hit you, the way your expression shifted, like the words physically landed. Like they’d taken root in the one place he swore he’d never aim to hurt.

Your voice, when it came, was hoarse. “What the fuck did you just say to me?”

Jeno’s face paled, the words hanging in the air like smoke.

“I didn’t mean—” he started.

“No,” you cut in, your tone cold, shaking, wounded. “No, say it again. You think I’d say yes to anyone? Is that what all of this was to you? Me being easy? Me being just another girl who gives you attention or seeks it?”

“Y/N, that’s not—”

“Save it.”

He reached for you, but you took another step back like his hand might burn.

And it did. It would’ve.

You weren’t even sure if it was anger or heartbreak swelling in your chest, but whatever it was, it made it hard to breathe.

“I can’t believe you just said that to me,” you whispered.

And then, without another word, you turned and walked out, quiet, final, leaving Jeno alone with the echo of his own mistake.

It was silent after the door slammed shut.

Too silent.

You didn’t say a word when you walked back into the kitchen, face blank, fingers curled tightly around the edge of your phone. Jaemin, Haechan, and Kkura all looked up at you, wide-eyed, waiting, but no one pushed you for anything. You didn’t need to say what happened. Not really. It was all too loud in that house, even when no one was speaking.

“Get your shoes,” Jaemin said gently, standing.

“Wha— Jaem, it’s not—”

“We’re going out,” Kkura added, taking your hand before you could protest further. “You need a change of air. And probably sugar.”

Haechan stood too, more serious than usual. “We’ll trash talk him later.”

You let out the tiniest, exhausted laugh, and that was enough for them to rally. Ten minutes later you were out of that house and in the passenger seat of Jaemin’s car with your knees pulled to your chest, the wind pulling at your hair through the window crack. You didn’t even know where you were headed, just that it wasn’t back in there.

The rest of the day blurred.

A quiet lunch at a half empty diner, milkshakes passed around, bad gossip and even worse impressions of your professors. Jaemin forced you to help him shop for an ugly beanie “for the sake of fashion crimes,” and Kkura pulled you into a skincare aisle like your life depended on you finally buying lip balm that wasn’t expired. Haechan, for once, didn’t push too many jokes, just stuck close, annoyingly gentle in the way only he could get away with.

“Don’t say I never do anything for you,” he muttered when he bought you that pastry you barely glanced at.

You didn’t say it aloud, but you knew what they were doing. You knew it was a distraction, a giant group hug disguised as retail therapy and chaos. And it worked, kind of. The ache was still there, lodged under your ribs, but it didn’t choke you the way it had earlier. At least not with them.

Meanwhile—

Jeno didn’t leave his room.

He hadn’t moved much since you walked out. The door stayed shut. The blinds stayed down. His phone buzzed a few times, probably Jaemin or even Kkura trying to feel things out, but he didn’t look at it. He didn’t want to look at anything.

What he said played on loop.

He hadn’t meant it, not like that. Not to cut you like he did. But the words had flown out sharp, too fast to catch, and by the time he saw your face, it was too late.

Now the guilt sat in his chest like concrete, weighing down every breath, every thought. The silence was loud. The house didn’t feel like home with you gone, and the room felt colder with the echo of your voice still bouncing off the walls.

And Jeno, for once, didn’t know how to fix it.

You were fine.

Or at least, that’s what you kept telling yourself like a mantra. The kind of lie you repeat until it sounds true. Like if you stared at your reflection long enough and said, “I’m fine” with the right tilt of your head, the puffy eyes and cracked lips would look intentional like maybe you’d chosen to fall apart a little, like it was a vibe.

But the truth was uglier. It sat heavy in your chest, coiled somewhere between your lungs and your throat, stubborn and choking. You hadn’t touched your assignments. You hadn’t left your apartment since you stormed back from the frat house three nights ago. Your coat still hung half-off the hook by the door, the sleeves twisted like they’d given up mid-shrug. The air inside felt stale, thick with the scent of uneaten leftovers and lavender wax melts that had long burned out.

The first night you didn’t cry. Not really. You just lay there fully clothed, face buried in the pillow Jeno used to sleep on when he stayed over. You’d kept it there even after he started asking you to stay at his place more often. You said it was “for backup.” But really, you just liked how it smelled like him. Now it didn’t. It smelled like time passing. Like something fading.

It wasn’t until the second day, when you opened the fridge looking for something, anything, to fill the silence, that it hit you. The coconut yogurt. The stupid probiotic coconut yogurt Jeno made fun of and then started buying for you anyway because he said, “Fine, be healthy and mysterious.” You stared at it, hand frozen on the fridge door, and everything unspooled. Your throat burned. Your chest cracked. And you cried, not in the gentle, cinematic way people cry in the movies, but in hiccuping sobs that came out too fast to breathe through. You slid down to the floor in front of the fridge and wept until your hands went numb from clutching your knees so hard.

You didn’t call anyone. But they showed up anyway.

Kkura was the first. She didn’t knock. Just let herself in, arms full of iced americanos, her bag weighed down with a ridiculous number of face masks. “Get up,” she said, as gently as possible. “We’re not doing this.” You blinked at her from the couch, wrapped in a blanket that smelled like old detergent and defeat. She handed you a drink and held up a pastel pink sheet mask. “We’re exfoliating the sadness today, babe. You don’t get a say.”

A few hours later, Haechan let himself in with his usual flair, kicking the door open like he owned the place. “Emergency delivery!” he sang, hoisting up an obnoxiously large pizza box. Two flavors of soju dangled from his fingers. “Healing comes in slices, bitch!” He didn’t wait for an invite, just made a beeline for your bed and collapsed onto it, scattering your pillows like flower petals. “What do we think? dramatic crying playlist, or trashy Netflix romance marathon?”

Jaemin trailed in after, as if he hadn’t spent fifteen minutes arguing about whether or not to come. He dramatically flopped onto the floor, arms splayed like he was in a crime scene photo. “I brought emotional support gummies,” he announced, shaking a bag of sour candies like they were sacred. “Also, I wore this shirt because I know you hate it and thought maybe insulting your eyes would distract you from your existential collapse.”

You peeked up from your blanket cocoon. “I don’t hate that shirt.”

“Yes you do,” he scoffed. “It’s literally neon.”

Somewhere in the mess of wine-stained paper cups, greasy pizza crusts, and Haechan trying to teach Kkura how to do a TikTok dance while balancing a slice of pepperoni on his head, you laughed. Just a little. Just once. But it cracked through the fog like sunlight.

The next night, Jiwoong FaceTimed you from a beach you didn’t recognize. The ocean stretched behind him in shades of blue that looked fake, the kind you’d only see in ads. He answered without a hello, tilting his head at the sight of your face and greeting you flatly with: “You look like you’ve been losing a custody battle with your emotional stability.”

Your lips twitched. “You’re in a postcard and still bullying me?”

“I’m multitasking.” He angled the camera to a puppy lying belly up in the sand, tongue flopped sideways like it had never known hardship in its life. “This is you. No thoughts, just vibes. You’ll be back to this version of yourself soon.”

You nodded, throat tight. “I’m trying.”

“I know. That’s why I called.” He paused, the sound of seagulls echoing in the distance. “You need me to fly back and beat him up?”

You choked a laugh. “No. Maybe.”

“I’ll bring churros.”

“Okay, that’s tempting.”

And in the quiet moments between calls, in the laughter that felt just a little forced but still better than silence, you started to feel like maybe you’d be okay.

You weren’t there yet.

But god, you were so lucky to be loved like this.

However on the other side…

Jeno hadn’t left his room in three days.

The air inside felt stale. His sheets were tangled around his legs, hoodie tossed somewhere across the room like it couldn’t bear to stay on him. His phone lay face down on the desk, buzzing a few times that morning but he ignored it.

He couldn’t tell if he was still angry or just…hollow.

His mind kept going back to the look on your face when he said it. That sharp second where your expression cracked like glass. You didn’t yell. You didn’t even look surprised. Just hurt. Tired. Like you’d finally hit the wall you’d been dancing around.

And then you left.

He should’ve stopped you. Should’ve run after you. But instead, he just sat there, mouth still parted like a fucking idiot, the weight of his own words echoing in his chest.

It wasn’t until the third night, after skipping dinner, again, and hearing a faint knock on his door for the fifth time that the sound of the lock clicking open made him sit up.

He expected Jungwoo or Jaemin.

He did not expect Johnny to walk in, followed by Jaehyun, Doyoung, and Yuta, holding a tray of food and a six pack of soda.

“Okay,” Johnny said, glancing around. “This is disgusting.”

“Jesus,” Doyoung muttered, wrinkling his nose. “It smells like sadness and Doritos in here.”

“I bet he hasn’t showered,” Yuta added, eyeing Jeno. “Have you showered?”

“Leave him alone,” Jaehyun said mildly. “We’re here for a heart to heart, not an intervention.”

“I’m fine,” Jeno croaked, voice dry.

“No, you’re not,” Johnny said, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Which is why we’re here.”

They didn’t force him to talk right away. Just passed him the food and turned on some shitty rerun of a zombie drama they all half watched. It was quiet, strangely comforting. But after the silence stretched long enough, Jeno sighed and set down the sandwich he hadn’t touched.

“I fucked up,” he said.

Johnny raised an eyebrow. “We know. We heard.”

“I said something worse than I ever should’ve said to her. I didn’t mean it the way it came out, I just…” He rubbed his eyes. “I was so angry and scared and fuck, I was jealous. I didn’t even think. And now she probably hates me.”

“Jealous of Haechan?” Jaehyun asked.

Jeno nodded. “But it wasn’t just him. It was all of it. Her being gone. Hanging out with other people. Laughing with them and not me. I thought we were…” He trailed off.

“You thought you were dating,” Doyoung filled in.

Jeno looked down. “Yeah. I guess I did.”

Yuta leaned forward. “But you never asked?”

Jeno shook his head. “I just thought… I don’t know. We were acting like it. It felt like it. She stayed over. We kissed. She laughed at my dumb jokes. She wore my hoodie.”

“Bro,” Johnny said, deadpan. “You just described half the frat. That’s not a relationship.”

“That’s a sleepover,” Doyoung added.

Jeno dropped his face into his hands with a groan.

“I should’ve just said something. I thought if I asked, I’d mess it up somehow, or she’d get scared off. I thought if I held onto it tight enough, it’d be real.”

“It doesn’t work like that,” Jaehyun said, not unkindly.

“I know that now,” Jeno muttered. “She was right. She waited. I didn’t ask. I made her feel like she wasn’t worth the actual words.”

“Sounds like you need to say them now,” Yuta said.

“Yeah, like yesterday,” Doyoung muttered.

“But how?” Jeno whispered, looking up. “She probably doesn’t want to see me again. I said something that if someone said that to her, I’d punch them.”

“She might be mad, yeah,” Johnny said, reaching out to squeeze his shoulder. “But if you mean it, if you’re honest, if you’re real, she’ll hear you out. If you care about her, and you want to do this right, you have to start with accountability. No excuses. Just truth.”

“And maybe,” Jaehyun added, “try showering first.”

Jeno laughed, weak but real, and the others chuckled with him.

But even with the weight still heavy in his chest, something in him settled. Maybe it was the clarity. Maybe it was just hearing it all out loud. But he knew what he had to do now.

Whether you wanted him back or not he needed to tell you that you were always worth the words.

Before this interrogation It had been four days since anyone had heard Jeno’s voice through the door.

Jaemin hadn’t pushed.

He hadn’t knocked more than once. Hadn’t tried to start some forced, clumsy heart to heart the way others might have. Because Jaemin knew Jeno, knew that the kid only came out when he was ready, when the storm had passed far enough that he could walk through the wreckage without shaking.

Still, that didn’t stop him from checking in the only way he knew how.

A bowl of rice. A cup of miso soup. Sometimes instant ramen, other times leftovers from whatever late lunch Jaemin grabbed with you and the others. He’d quietly leave the tray just outside Jeno’s door before retreating back downstairs, back to the makeshift “therapy hangouts” with you, Kkura, and Haechan.

He didn’t talk about Jeno during those meetups.

Didn’t talk about you when he was home.

It was hard. Torn didn’t even begin to describe it.

But this was how he could at least care for both of you. Quietly, in the background, where his loyalty didn’t have to be loud or obvious or make anyone choose.

So that morning, just like the others, Jaemin reheated some dumplings and poured a bit of tea into a small insulated bottle. It wasn’t fancy. But it was warm. It was something.

He was halfway down the hallway, tray in hand, yawning as he turned the corner, when the sound of a door creaking open made him stop short.

And there Jeno was.

Hair still damp from a long overdue shower. Face bare, hoodie replaced by a fresh t-shirt. He looked tired, but cleaner. Human again.

And he was staring at Jaemin.

More specifically, at the tray in Jaemin’s hands.

They stood there in silence for a second. Not tense. Not quite awkward either. Just… unsure. Cautious. Like two friends on opposite sides of a line neither of them meant to draw.

Jeno’s gaze dropped to the dumplings, then back to Jaemin’s eyes.

A beat passed. Then he gave a soft, crooked smile. The kind that didn’t reach all the way to his cheeks but still managed to feel real.

“I guess it was you,” Jeno murmured. “You’re the one who’s been feeding me.”

Jaemin didn’t move at first. Then his lips twitched into something close to a smirk.

“Well,” he said, voice dry, “you clearly weren’t going to feed yourself.”

Jeno chuckled, just barely. “Fair.”

Another pause. Jaemin stared at him, then finally extended the tray. Jeno reached out slowly, fingers brushing the edge.

“Thanks,” he said quietly.

Jaemin shrugged like it was nothing. But it wasn’t nothing. They both knew that.

Jeno looked at him again, something fragile in his expression. “I heard you were with them a lot. With her.”

“Yeah.” Jaemin’s tone didn’t waver. “She needed people.”

Jeno didn’t ask if she’d talked about him. Didn’t ask if she cried. He just nodded, lips pressed in a line. “Makes sense.”

They stood there again in the quiet.

And then Jaemin exhaled. “I’m mad at you,” he said bluntly. “You know that, right?”

Jeno nodded again. “Yeah.”

“I don’t know how long I will be. But I still care. So… don’t starve. Or die. Or whatever.” His voice softened at the end. “That’d piss me off even more.”

Jeno huffed, biting back a tiny smile. “Got it.”

Jaemin gave a short nod and started walking away, but not before glancing over his shoulder once.

“You’re gonna have to fix it yourself,” he said. “If she ever lets you.”

Then he disappeared around the corner.

Jeno stood there, holding the tray.

And for the first time in days, he felt the smallest flicker of hope pulse somewhere inside his chest.

It started with a text.

[jeno]: hey. Can we talk?

You didn’t answer.

The screen stayed quiet for an hour. Then another.

Then another text.

[jeno]: i get it if you’re not ready. just… please let me know you’re okay.

Still nothing.

The next morning, he tried again.

[jeno]: i shouldn’t have said what i said.

[jeno]: i didn’t mean it.

[jeno]: i was angry and stupid. and scared.

He waited. Refreshed the screen. Waited some more.

You saw it. You always did. But your fingers never moved. You couldn’t make them. Not when the sound of his voice in your head still made your chest twist. Not when the memory of him, of that night, still throbbed like a bruise under your skin.

Jeno started calling.

The first time, you watched it ring out.

The second time, you let it go after two seconds.

The third, your phone buzzed in your hand while you were out with Jaemin and Kkura, and Jaemin glanced over with a tight expression, like he wanted to answer for you.

You tucked it back in your pocket and said nothing.

He stopped calling after that.

Two days passed.

You assumed he got the hint.

But you should’ve known better.

Because when the knock came that night, gentle, tentative, barely there, you thought it might be Kkura. Maybe even Jaemin, checking in. But when you opened the door, your heart stumbled.

Jeno stood there.

Not in frat clothes. Not with that hood pulled low over his eyes like he’d been avoiding the world.

He looked… like he tried.

Hair brushed down neatly. Sweater a little wrinkled. Eyes tired. Hopeful. Frantic. He’d showered, you could tell. He looked cleaner, less like the shell he’d been hiding inside. But his expression was barely holding together.

Your breath caught.

“Hi,” he said, voice rough. “I know I shouldn’t have come here. But you weren’t answering and I—I didn’t know what else to do.”

You didn’t answer at first. Just stared at him, like if you blinked, he’d disappear.

Jeno shifted, something desperate flickering in his eyes. “Please, Y/N. Just let me talk. I won’t push for anything. I just—let me be in the same room as you again.”

You looked at him. The small way his chest rose and fell like he hadn’t breathed right since that night. The way his hands trembled slightly, fists unclenching at his sides.

You were angry. Still were. Still hurt.

But something in you, the part that once stayed up talking with him until 3 a.m., the part that remembered his dumb laugh in between kisses and how he’d hold your hand without thinking, couldn’t close the door.

You stepped aside.

He didn’t move until you spoke.

“Come in,” you said, quietly.

And Jeno, relieved, stunned, exhausted, stepped over the threshold like it might break him.

You didn’t say anything after he stepped inside. Just walked back toward your small living room and left the door slightly ajar, like maybe you still hadn’t decided if you wanted to keep him in or not.

Jeno followed slowly, quietly, like he was afraid any sudden movement might make you vanish. His eyes scanned the room, the half empty cup on the coffee table, the throw blanket you’d probably curled up under when you weren’t speaking to him, your phone tossed aside, screen dark.

You sat on the edge of the couch and didn’t look at him.

He stayed standing.

And then he started.

“I meant to say it.”

Your gaze flickered up, sharp, uncertain. He swallowed.

“I meant to say I wanted to be with you. That I already felt like I was. That I didn’t realize how fucking much it meant to say it out loud until it was already too late.”

You said nothing. Just pulled your sleeves over your hands, eyes low.

Jeno sighed, stepping closer but still giving you space. “I thought we were on the same page. I know that sounds stupid now, but I really thought… you felt what I felt. I thought we didn’t need to talk about it because it was just there, in the way we were with each other. In the way I looked at you. How I always wanted to be around you. How I couldn’t sleep unless I was texting you goodnight, or hearing you breathe next to me.”

You looked away.

“I didn’t say it because I was scared,” he continued, voice cracking now. “I didn’t want to ruin whatever we had. I thought if I pushed too much, or made it official, you’d think it was too much too fast. You’d… leave. I didn’t want to risk losing you.”

You didn’t answer, but your shoulders tensed.

He noticed. And for a moment, he was quiet again. Then—

“But that’s not an excuse. I should’ve said something. I should’ve fucking said something the first time we kissed, or the morning after, or that time you stayed over and didn’t even bother with your apartment for three days. I should’ve asked. I should’ve told you you weren’t just some girl I was messing around with. You’re not. You never were.”

He rubbed a hand down his face, voice hoarse. “I didn’t just like you, Y/N. I loved you. I still do.”

You blinked hard. Your throat burned, but you kept your jaw locked.

“I know I hurt you,” he said, softer now. “That night… I was frustrated. I was confused, and I saw you laughing with him, Haechan, of all people, and it just flipped something in me. It wasn’t about trust. It wasn’t even jealousy, not really. It was fear. Because for once, I actually had something I didn’t want to lose.”

You finally looked at him then, and something about your expression made him pause. You weren’t angry. Not exactly.

You were exhausted.

So he kept going.

“You don’t owe me forgiveness. Or another chance. I get that. But I needed to come here because… I needed you to hear it from me. Not through a text. Not through Jaemin. Me. I wanted to tell you I was wrong. That I shouldn’t have expected you to just know what we were. I should’ve said it. I should’ve asked you.”

He looked down, hands clenched at his sides.

“I’m sorry I made you feel like an option. I never wanted that. Not for you. Not for us.”

He took a shaky breath.

“And I’m sorry I said what I said that night. I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean any of it.”

The room fell silent. You stared at the wall past him. Your throat was so tight it ached, your chest heavier than it had been in days.

When you finally spoke, your voice was low.

“You really hurt me.”

Jeno looked up slowly, like the words had physically struck him.

You still didn’t meet his eyes.

“I thought I was going crazy,” you said. “One day we’re acting like we’ve been together forever, and the next I’m being avoided when it comes to the serious questions. That it almost felt like you didn’t think I’d stay.”

Jeno opened his mouth to say something, but you kept going.

“You didn’t say it, Jeno. You didn’t ask. You just… assumed. And then got mad when I didn’t read your mind.”

He shut his mouth. Nodded once, tightly.

You took a breath. It hurt. “I needed to hear it. I needed to know I wasn’t just building something out of nothing. And when I didn’t hear it, when you didn’t say it, I started to believe maybe I made it all up.”

That broke him a little.

You could see it in the way his shoulders folded inward, in the flicker of panic across his face. Like he was suddenly watching every moment with you through your eyes, and finally saw the cracks.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, quieter this time.

You nodded, arms hugging yourself. “I know.”

And then neither of you spoke. The silence didn’t feel peaceful—it felt fragile, like something raw still bleeding just under the surface.

Jeno stepped forward, one pace.

“I don’t want to lose you,” he said.

You looked at him. Finally. “Then don’t say things that make me feel like I was never yours to lose.”

And Jeno’s heart splintered clean through.

Next thing you know, you witness something you never thought would unfold in front of your eyes.

You hadn’t seen him cry like that before.

Not like this.

At first, it was just the way his eyes glossed over. A quiet blink, a shift in breath. But then it cracked, a tremble in his jaw, a sound he barely swallowed down. And then the tears fell, slow and then all at once, as if holding it in had finally run out of room inside him.

He turned away for a second, dragging a shaky hand over his face like that might stop it.

It didn’t.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered again, voice breaking. “God, I’m so sorry, Y/N. I fucked this up. I fucking ruined it. And I don’t even know how to fix it because—”

His voice choked off.

You stared, frozen for a beat. You didn’t expect this much. You didn’t expect him to crumble in front of you like the words he’d been holding in had cracked something wide open. Jeno was always so composed, so quiet in his sadness, but this?

This was him unraveling.

You stood slowly and stepped toward him.

“I never wanted to hurt you,” he said, still trying to catch his breath, his voice hoarse and wet with tears. “I thought I was protecting us by not saying anything, and all I did was make you feel invisible. I made you think I didn’t care, when that’s all I’ve ever done. I don’t know how to stop caring about you.”

Your chest squeezed.

“Jeno,” you said gently.

“I kept thinking about the look on your face that night,” he mumbled. “How you just… shut down. And it’s all I’ve been thinking about. That I did that. That I pushed you to a place where you had to convince yourself I didn’t mean anything to you. And I hate that. I hate myself for that.”

You touched his arm, tentative. His whole frame shook under your hand.

“I still love you,” he said, barely above a whisper. “I still want this. I want you. I’ll do it right this time, if you let me. I’ll say it every day. I’ll make it clear. I just— I need you to know that it was real. It’s always been real.”

Your throat was tight. You didn’t realize tears were welling in your own eyes until you blinked and one slid down.

“I know,” you said quietly. “I know it was real.”

He looked at you like your voice alone was something to hold on to.

You hesitated, then added, “And… I’m sorry too.”

Jeno’s brows knit, confused.

“I’m not saying I take it all back,” you said. “Because you needed to hear what I said that night. But I know I got… cold. Defensive. Angry. And I didn’t mean to shut you out like that. I just—when you said those things, it felt like everything I’d let myself believe was fake. And I didn’t want to feel that again. I didn’t want to feel small.”

You sniffled, laughing bitterly. “So I built a wall so fast I didn’t even realize I locked myself in, too.”

Jeno stepped closer. His eyes were red, lips parted like he was still trying to catch his breath.

“I forgive you,” you said.

His breath hitched.

You nodded slowly. “I forgive you, Jeno. And I still love you too. That didn’t go away.”

He looked like he might cry again at that.

And maybe you did too, because when he reached for your hands this time, you didn’t flinch. You let him hold them, fingers trembling against yours. He pulled you close like he didn’t want to risk you slipping away again, and when you let him, that’s when the tears really came again for both of you. Quiet and full of everything you hadn’t been able to say until now.

His forehead pressed to yours.

“I’m gonna do better,” he whispered. “I swear I’ll do better.”

You nodded, hands curling around the fabric of his hoodie.

“We will,” you murmured back. “We’ll do better.”

And just like that, the hurt didn’t disappear. But it settled, softened into something that could finally begin to heal.

Together.

Jeno’s breath was still uneven, but the storm behind his eyes had settled into something else now, something quieter, more certain. He pulled back just enough to look at you fully, eyes tracing every part of your face like he needed to memorize this moment.

His thumbs brushed your knuckles, slow and reverent, before he took a steadying breath.

“Can I ask you something?” he said softly.

You nodded.

He hesitated for a beat, not out of doubt, but weight. Like the question had been sitting in his chest for a long, long time.

“Will you be mine?” he asked. His voice cracked, not out of fear, but sincerity. “Like... officially. No more almosts. No more blurred lines or half steps. Just mine. My girlfriend. And of course without a doubt I’m yours”

The way he said it wasn’t rushed or desperate. It was raw. Honest. Like this wasn’t just about claiming you, but about finally choosing you out loud. Finally giving the love between you a name that couldn’t be mistaken for anything else.

He swallowed. “Because I should’ve asked you a long time ago. And I don’t want another day to go by where you don’t know exactly where we stand.”

His gaze never left yours. “So…will you?”

The room held its breath.

And this time, he waited.

Your breath hitched, just a sharp, shaken inhale because everything inside you cracked wide open the moment he said it. All the anger and confusion and weight of the past few weeks lifted just enough for your heart to finally speak louder than your fear.

“Yes,” you whispered. Then again, stronger, like it needed to echo. “Yes, Jeno.”

And you didn’t wait.

You surged forward, crashing into him like you’d been holding back for years, not days. Your hands tangled in the collar of his hoodie, yanking him down, and he met you halfway, mouth already parting, gasping against yours like he’d been dying for air and finally found it in your kiss.

It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t careful. It was weeks of everything unsaid exploding in between the seams of your mouths, desperate, messy, clumsy in the way that it could be. You pushed him back, lips never breaking, until his back hit the door and he groaned into you like he didn’t care if the world burned around him so long as you stayed pressed against him like this.

His hands found your waist, gripping like he was terrified you’d disappear again. Your fingers slid under the fabric of his hoodie, palms running up his chest, nails grazing just enough to make him shiver.

“You’re mine,” he murmured into your mouth, breathless. “You’re mine now.”

You kissed him harder in response, like yes, fuck yes, I’m yours, but only because you chose me.

His mouth dragged across your jaw, then lower, tongue hot as he kissed down your neck, hands still trembling as they held you close. You weren’t thinking anymore. You couldn’t. All you could feel was the heat of him, his body, his words, the way he whispered your name like it hurt to say but he needed to keep saying it just to believe this was real.

When you finally pulled back to breathe, your foreheads touched, your lips swollen, your hands still gripping his hoodie like you might fall if you let go.

“I missed you,” he said quietly, voice thick with emotion. “I missed us.”

You nodded, brushing your nose against his. “Then don’t fuck it up this time.”

“I won’t,” he promised, eyes wide, lips twitching like he might cry or smile or do both. “I swear to God, I won’t.”

And just like that, you kissed him again, so deep, so consuming, it felt like starting over. But this time, you weren’t drifting through some unspoken dream.

You were finally wide awake.