nenonee

[nenonee]

every night — revelvly (MDNI)

(jeno x reader ) fwb relationship !! warnings : smut (doesn’t rlly go into much detail but js fingering and protected sex), angst, unreciprocated feelings

word count : 1.2k

a/n: first drabble !! comments and reblogs are appreciated

It happens the same way every night when your breath wanes away against the dying lapse of Jeno’s panting breath. You could say it’s the single, fleeting moment when the facade of who Jeno is momentarily falters, and he’s stripped bare of all his airs that mould his arrogant facade down to a mere man. Just a mere man. Yet this mere man is the same man who infects your heart with throbbing palpitations, craving a desire it cannot have; the same man who adorns an arrogant smirk regardless of the situation because he knows everyone deems it as disarming, and he’s the same man that follows a precise schedule every single day.

11PM. The ‘you up?’ text will promptly ping your phone at 11pm and despite your insistence to yourself that you won’t fall into Jeno’s outstretched arms, you succumb to temptations and invite him over, all while telling yourself that it’ll be the last time. It’s not fair to you, and it’s not fair to him. Afterall, Jeno clearly established at the beginning of this… situation that he wasn’t looking for some girlfriend to get committed to. Nevertheless, you’ll treasure the stolen time with Jeno, because you seldom consider enjoyment to be a frequent companion, so you’ll try enamour him and allow yourself to imagine another realm where you’re simply someone you aren’t now.

You’ll put on your best lingerie, do your makeup all over again even though you’ve just removed it, and ensure that your hair passes a certain standard. It’s stupid, really, because deep down, you doubt Jeno would ever even notice if your lips are coloured by a different gloss, or if your bronzer overshadows your blush. It’s stupid how much you crave a man’s attention that you’re willing to sacrifice your prior intention to finish a Netflix series just because you’ve managed to convince yourself that one day, he’ll spare you a glance with eyes that reflect more than just glazed lust. It’s stupid how you ensure that your flat is perfectly arranged with no mess in sight so that you seem even remotely composed, even if that’s far from being a mirror of your internal composure.

MIDNIGHT. Jeno will arrive at your flat sporting a grey hoodie and scuffed trainers that serve as a testament to his athletic prowess. Your relationship has long since escaped the realms of requiring vocal communication because you both know what this situation entails but still, Jeno sits on your sofa and converses about meaningless topics that he rarely filters passion into, so your mouth interrupts his in a kiss far from being romantic and vulnerable but more than an awkward hesitant first one. The first time you and Jeno kissed, it was all clammy hands and chapped lips from you because you were simply dumbfounded by the fact that Jeno was going to kiss you. Now, it’s become part of your regular schedule that you might even say it’s become tiresome.

Eagerly, Jeno will reciprocate the kiss because yes, that’s the only reason he came over and you both know it, so it’s only right that you both strip naked because it no longer feels like a vulnerability to expose your body to a man who knows the crevices better than he knows what your favourite colour is.

There are some changes that transpire over time. At the beginning, he used to pay so much attention to every piece of skin of your body, like it was a new brushstroke on an undiscovered painting. But today, and for the past few weeks, he barely spends much time tracing fragile skin as he runs his hands over you for the umpteenth time, and you’ve stopped treasureing the feel of the coarse hair at the nape of his neck, and how it brushes against your fingers in a sharp bruise while Jeno attacks your neck with stinging kisses as he fumbles with adjusting you so that you’re in the perfect position on the mattress for his benefit. Jeno lacks the intent to make you feel good, and you know it too, and it’s a feeling you’ve grown accustomed to because at least someone wants you. It doesn’t matter that his fingers are rough when he enters them in, and that he judders his thumb against your clit in a rhythm that doesn’t fully align with the motions of his fingers plunging in and out of you. It doesn’t matter that there’s no intent of arousing you with dirty talk because Jeno has no true feelings for you that serve as remnants in his heart that sprout up in his vocabulary, so the only intertwining sounds are your moans and his sporadic groans, and the silent acknowledgement that Jeno doesn’t love you.

Sex with Jeno is easy. There’s no sweet confessions slickening your lips through conceived moans that reach higher octaves until they crackle with pleasure, and there’s no love coursing through Jeno’s veins when he eventually enters you from behind after deeming that you’re wet enough from his incessant foreplay. There’s no moment of innate passion and a realisation of love - Jeno simply begins rocking his hips, plunging his cock further into you until skin slaps skin and his muscles contract with the movement and he’s falling apart into his condom and you just about manage to reach a fleeting climax that is nothing like the euphoric pleasure everyone claims to receive during sex.

NOW. Now Jeno’s chin rests on your shoulder as his pants eventually quieten down. It’s silent. Peaceful. Calm. Silent. His body is lax against yours, damp with sweat that sticks skin-against-skin, but for a moment, you can pretend that he’s yours. You can construct a whole new dimension of reality where Jeno won’t abandon you once he feels satiated. This is the version of your idealised Jeno, in the tiny moment when he feels almost domestic and your heart feels full. But idealism never lasts, and neither does this rose-tinted dream.

He pulls out of you with a slow, emphatic grunt, and does the common decency of cleaning you up with a damp towel as well as himself. It’s silent when you both put your clothes back on, and silent when Jeno helps you change the sheets. Sadness doesn’t approach just yet. Jeno turns to look at you, gives you a smirk that isn’t quite a smirk but you wouldn’t classify it as a smile, and he waves his hand lazily as if to say, ‘see you next time’, because he knows you’ll always answer his messages.

Only then does sadness siphon through the palimpsest of sheets, coaxing itself into your body until you struggle to hold your heart up any longer. You’re sickened by yourself, to say the least. You know Jeno would never think of you as a lover. If you really knew Jeno, you probably wouldn’t think of him as a lover either. But your heart yearns to be loved, and the lines of ‘love’ and ‘lust’ have become so blurred that Jeno’s presence provides the serotonin that fuels your hallucinations of being loved even for a second. Then it fades away when he exits your door, and all you’re left with is a dull numbness that echoes into the pores of your bones until you feel like the corpse of yourself. In the morning, you’ll tell yourself you won’t talk to Jeno.

You’ll let go of him and relinquish yourself from his grasp and begin the process of changing to be a better person. Then Jeno’s text will come. No change will happen. You’ll get ready, talk to him, have sex, pretend everything’s fine, he’ll leave, and sadness will come to call. It all happens the same way every night.

[nenonee]

THE WAY OF THE DOG SITTER | lee jeno

SYNOPSIS: jeno — former gangster, but also.... dog sitter? — really wants to start afresh, but before he can find the newest perfect job that suits him, he focuses on his love for animals. but then jeno doesn't find a new job, he finds you instead — and maybe you're everything he really needs.

PAIRING: dog sitter!jeno x female!reader

GENRE: fluff, comedy, getting together, suggestive at times, established relationship

CONTAINS: mentions of jeno being a gangster, dog sitter and subsequently husband jeno. dreamies, jaemin and his babies will be making frequent appearances. fluff, domestic scenarios, suggestive content. mentions of dark themes and violence, comedy. more warnings to be added for each part.

PARTS: part 1 .ᐟ part 2 .ᐟ part 3 .ᐟ (+ more parts could be added with time)

TAGLIST: join HERE or reply to this post

AUTHOR'S NOTE: how could i do a mini series about jaemin and haechan and skip our beloved ex-gangster cutie jeno??? tied to my the way of the househusband series with jaemin but you don't need to read it if you haven't already, as jeno is only featured in a few parts. this is a mini series and chapters will not necessarily be related to each other, and will not be in chronological order. enjoy! <3

mark's version → HERE

haechan's version → HERE

©️ KONGJJEN 2024 - 2025. all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or repost any of my works.

[nenonee]

no lines left ( lee jeno )

jeno and you end up way more close than either of you ever planned.

❛ content 1.3k words, 18+, explicit sexual content, top! male reader, handjob (jeno receiving), jeno is a whining mess, gentle praise, both are down bad.

you lost count of how many times jeno had stayed over.

at this point, it wasn’t just a casual hangout — it was just your ritual. friday night. takeout. dumb youtube videos. maybe a rewatch of some movie you both knew by heart. jeno always took the left side of the bed. he always stole your hoodie. always pressed just a little too close when he didn’t have to.

but tonight just felt… different.

it wasn’t that the lights were dimmer, or that the rain tapping on the window made the world feel smaller — although it did. it wasn’t even the fact that jeno was wearing just a tank top and boxers, legs sprawled across your lap while the tv droned in the background.

it was the way he looked at you.

like he’d already decided something and was just waiting for you to catch up.

“you ever think,” jeno started, voice low, casual on the surface but too careful underneath. “that we’re… too close?”

you tilted your head, heart thudding just a little. “too close?”

“yeah,” his fingers toyed with the hem of your shirt. “like… we’re not dating, but it kinda feels like we are sometimes.”

you stared at him for a beat. his eyes were focused on his own hand — the way it bunched the fabric between your ribs — but you saw his throat bob as he swallowed.

“been thinking about it a lot?” you asked, voice soft.

jeno didn’t answer right away. he just leaned his head back against the wall, biting his bottom lip. then, without looking at you :

“yeah.”

the air shifted — warm and electric and charged. his body heat soaked into you, into your skin, into your brain. he smelled like clean soap and your laundry detergent, and something else distinctly him — earthy, masculine, something that had your mouth dry.

“you know i’d do anything for you, right?” you said quietly.

jeno looked over then, eyes wide and open, and fuck, he looked so pretty like that — all soft lips and flushed cheeks, skin lit golden by the bedside lamp.

“yeah,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. “i know.”

your hand slid over his thigh, slow and steady. you felt the way his breath caught, how his body subtly leaned into your touch like he was already halfway gone.

“then let me do something for you now,” you murmured.

his lashes fluttered. “y/n…”

the sound of your name from his mouth — soft, aching — did something dangerous to you. your hand crept higher, fingers tracing the inside of his thigh, brushing the edge of his boxers. he spread his legs more willingly than you expected, muscles tense beneath your touch.

“you can stop me any time,” you offered, giving him an out he wouldn’t take.

“i don’t want to stop you,” jeno said, so fast it almost stumbled out. “fuck. i’ve wanted this— i’ve wanted you for so long.”

you swore your heart actually skipped.

he was panting already, chest rising and falling under the tank top that clung to him. his hands gripped the blanket underneath you both, knuckles pale, like he was already bracing himself.

you slid your hand under the waistband of his boxers.

the sound he made — something soft, broken, and so needy — punched straight through you.

“shit,” he whispered, head tipping back. “oh my god…”

he was already hard for you, twitching in your palm, skin hot to the touch. you stroked him slowly at first, just enough to make him gasp, your thumb brushing over the slit where he was already leaking.

“you’re so sensitive,” you breathed, fascinated. “you like being touched like this?”

“i—i love it,” jeno whined, and it was so much, the way he arched slightly off the bed, the way his legs spread wider like he wanted to give you more access. “fuck, your hand—feels so good.”

you tightened your grip just a little and picked up the pace, stroking him smooth and steady. the way his body responded — hips rolling up into your fist, lips parting, fingers twitching — had your own cock throbbing, though you didn’t even care about getting off right now.

you just wanted to watch him fall apart.

“please,” he gasped, eyes screwed shut. “don’t stop—please don’t stop.”

“i’m not going anywhere,” you murmured. “just relax, baby. let me take care of you.”

that did something to him. his whole body shivered at the nickname. one of his hands left the blanket, reaching blindly until it found your forearm, clutching it tight like he needed something to hold onto.

the room was thick with heat and breathing — his especially. short, desperate, like he couldn’t get enough air. his thighs were trembling under your hand. you leaned in close, pressing a kiss to the side of his neck, and he keened.

“y/n—fuck—i can’t—”

“you can,” you whispered against his skin. “i’ve got you.”

your hand worked faster now, your thumb teasing the sensitive head, your palm catching every slick sound as he leaked over your fingers. the way his cock jumped in your fist every time you whispered to him — or moaned quietly just to tease — made it clear how fucking desperate he really was.

“i—i think i’m gonna—fuck—” his voice cracked, body tensing hard under you.

you leaned in, gently kissed his jaw, stroked him hard through it.

“come for me, baby,” you said, voice dark, warm against his cheek. “let go.”

and he did.

he came with a sob, burying his face in your neck, his whole body jerking as thick ropes spilled hot over your hand. you didn’t stop until he was done shaking, done whimpering, hips twitching from oversensitivity as you slowed your strokes.

when you finally pulled your hand away, he slumped back against the pillows, dazed, eyes half-lidded and shining.

you reached for a tissue, cleaned him gently, quietly, and then tossed it aside before crawling up next to him again, pressing your body alongside his. his fingers immediately sought yours out.

there was no hesitation. he laced them.

he was still panting softly, hair messy, lips red. he looked ruined in the best way possible — and completely yours.

“so,” he said after a long moment, voice raspy and fucked-out. “does this mean you’ll finally stop pretending you don’t like me?”

you let out a soft laugh, thumb stroking across his knuckles.

“i was down bad the second you started stealing my hoodies,” you admitted. “you think i let just anyone wear my clothes?”

“thought you were just being a nice best friend,” he murmured, eyes soft.

you looked at him and felt something settle in your chest. something so real.

“nah,” you said. “i’ve been gone for you. and i think you knew it.”

he grinned sleepily and tugged you closer.

“i knew,” he whispered. “i was just waiting for you to catch up.”

you kissed him then — slow and deep — and this time, it wasn’t just need. it was everything else that had been sitting between you for years. all that non-said longing, all those looks that lasted a little too long. the brushes of skin that lingered. the shared beds.

the truth was, there’d never really been a line between the two of you.

and now, there was nothing left to cross.

[nenonee]

beautiful 🥺

nct dream and how they love you ⋆.𐙚 ̊

7dream x gn!reader

ᢉ𐭩 no warnings, just a lot of fluff

mark

mark is the definition of a loverboy. he's sweet, patient, and loves you with his whole heart. there's an underlying current of trust and comfort when you're with him. despite his put-together demeanor, he's crazy about you on the inside.

he can't stop thinking about you. every melody he crafts, every lyric he messily scribbles onto his sheet music, and every thrum of the bass against his headphones are all for you. you ignite his passion for songwriting and are undoubtedly his muse.

there's a small part of him that is terrified of being over-consumed by you and your relationship, and an even larger part of him that's terrified of losing you. but that makes him blind to when he's losing himself. deep down, he knows that he'd risk it all if it meant he got to keep loving you.

renjun

you learn quickly that renjun isn't afraid of being affectionate, even if your friends are all gagging and whining at how touchy he is. his hands are constantly linked with yours, arms swinging forward and backward as you walk together.

but he's also cautious, constantly checking in and making sure to respect your boundaries. his steps closer to your heart are small and calculated. first, holding hands. second, hugs. then, kisses. he checks in before and after each of them. the words "is this okay?" leave his lips often.

there's nothing he loves more than seeing you smile. a true smile, not one you plaster on in an attempt to please a crowd. he learns how to discern them fast. he takes pride in it, in learning how to make you laugh until your stomach hurts or grin until your cheekbones are sore. you are one of the most important people in his life, and he wants nothing more than to make you happy.

jeno

jeno's love for you is quiet. he stands tall, happy to be a pillar for you to lean on as you move through your day-to-day life. on the outside, he doesn't say much, just offering hums of acknowledgement and gentle touches to you, but there's a sense of security each night you settle in bed next to him.

though the "i love you"s are on the scarcer side, he shows his love in more subtle ways. leaving a cup of your favorite coffee out in the morning, tucking you in when he notices you've kicked off the blanket in your sleep, and buying your favorite scented candles to light around the house.

he's practically made for comfort. on nights when you come home crying from work or school, his brain automatically starts spinning to find ways to ease you. he has all your favorite films, songs, and activities tucked away neatly in the library of his mind. some might say he's over-prepared, but he wants to be ready, so that when you need him, he's already there waiting with open arms.

haechan

his favorite activity is toying with you. he loves the push and pull you two have going on. there's something so enchanting about the banter you share with him, about the twinkles of mischief in your eyes as you quip comebacks at him. his favorite opponent in any game is you, because you're just so easy to tease.

paired with the chaos of your tom and jerry-like relationship comes the soft comfort of a big teddy bear. not a night goes by where haechan isn't tangled in your arms. he appears in your dreams, donning a bright, goofy smile. his warmth lulls you to sleep as he hums soft melodies. he stops only when your breathing evens and he's sure you've gone to sleep.

perhaps the thing you love most about him is his undying faith in you. wherever you go, no matter what endeavor you experience, he's not far behind. haechan is your number one cheerleader. his confidence in you is one that pushes you to be better, to strive for bigger goals, and become more confident.

jaemin

the ultimate house-husband, equipped with life skills such as cooking, cleaning, and dealing with three very pampered cats. although not explicitly mentioned, his pampering also extends to you. he loves giving you gifts and showering you with compliments. his schedule, although packed with responsibilities, always has room for you.

jaemin is completely enamored by you. he finds you to be the cutest being in the universe and he's not afraid to tell you that. he's completely smitten. without even realizing it, he's mentally planned out your lives together, categorizing expenses and resources for the both of you from each of his paychecks.

the most important message that jaemin craves to tell you every day is how much you should love yourself. he sees you as the light of his life, and he believes that you should see yourself from his eyes. that's why he loves taking photos of you and recording your memories. he wants you to have a gallery to look back on to see how you've grown and how beautiful you are.

chenle

before he was your lover, he was your best friend. maybe that's why there seems to be no petty arguments within your relationship. he wholeheartedly trusts you, and you reciprocate the trust completely. there's no jealousy or location stalking necessary. things that would normally destroy other couples seem absurd to the two of you.

wherever you go, chenle goes, too. he's practically your other half. you both come as a two-for-one deal. there's a mutual comfort that comes from just being around one another. without even saying anything, he can already tell what you need when you need it. chenle is undoubtedly your rock, even through the roughest of times.

he hates seeing you hurt. if he could, he would make all your problems disappear. his heart is constantly yelling for him to pay off your rent, to beat up the angry co-worker that made you cry, to make sure that nothing ails you. although he offers to, he understands why you deny him, and he instead helps you pick up the pieces and get back on your feet.

jisung

if there was one thing that surprised you the most about falling in love with jisung, it's that he is indeed a yapper. despite his timid, aloof demeanor in public, he's bright-eyed and lively when you're alone. although the difference is a bit jarring, you can't help but feel a strong tug at your heartstrings when you realize how comfortable he is around you.

he's curious about you. unlike other things, he feels like he'll never get tired of learning about you. sometimes, you feel like you're being studied by a mad scientist with how many questions he asks. from your opinion on aliens to your reasoning for the milk first vs cereal first debate, he wants to know you completely.

jisung doesn't offer much physical affection towards you. although he can't deny liking cuddles and shy hugs, his brain operates on the idea of "less is more". even out of his shell, he still likes to express affection on his own terms, which is why every hug or kiss feels like a milestone. every "i love you" is that much more important to him and to you.

[nenonee]

bully 00z + nerd reader

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

bully 00z who will corner you in the middle of an empty classroom before tugging your school skirt down and giving you a wedgie, completely unaware that you got wet from such until you accidentally let out a moan. and after getting over the initial shock they start to tease further, mocking you, calling you a nerd for liking panties up your ass. jeno gets a brilliant idea to whip his phone and record the moment. you protest, asking them to stop recording you in such a humiliating state, but it only fuels their fire. after all, you do enjoy this, panties dampening as they rub against your clit. the camera moves towards your face, as renjun tells you to look into it and call yourself a slut who loves being humiliated. you try to protest, telling them you’re anything but, they just laugh, yanking them up further until your back in arched. you let out a string of embarrassing whimpers before they give it one final stretch, right over your head, an atomic wedgie. jaemin uses his school tie to restrict your hands behind your back so you can’t pick it out, while haechan makes sure to keep your skirt flipped up so that your ass is on full display, giving it a few smacks before they exit the classroom, leaving you all alone, not caring who ends up seeing or how you’re getting out of this mess.

a/n: this lowk a mess but it’s 5am and i can’t get bully 00z giving me an atomic wedgie out of my head so please bask in this thought with me

-renjuns princess 🤍

[nenonee]

tracing the slope of jeno’s nose while he sleeps. he’s just so beautiful you can’t help but admire him.

“hm stop staring like a creep.” he moves to lay on his side, pulling you down to trap you under his bicep.

“can i not admire my beautiful boyfriend?” you bite his bicep playfully to get him to let you go.

he frowns, pulling his arm away to wipe away your spit.

“don’t act like you’ve never had my spit on you before.” you position yourself so you’re now on top of him, running your hands down his chest.

“mm naughty girl.” his hands run up your thighs, to your hips giving them a squeeze.

“i think you look most beautiful like this, sun shining on you and best of all, on top of me.”

[nenonee]

𝖭𝖤𝖵𝖤𝖱 𝖧𝖠𝖵𝖤 𝖨 𝖤𝖵𝖤𝖱

𝗇𝖼𝗍 𝖽𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗆 𝗑 𝖿𝖾𝗆!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

┈─★ the dreamies’ ‘i haves’ when playing (dirty) never have i ever.

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁𝘀 𝖬𝖣𝖭𝖨 ⠀⠀⠀───⠀⠀⠀ unprotected sex (don’t do this), strong language (dirty talk & cursing), some dom/sub dynamics, power dynamics, orgasm control, public sex, phone sex, face sitting, masturbation, oral (m. & f. rec), dry humping, begging, creampie, backshots, overstim, pet name usage. (lmk if i missed any !) 𝘄𝗰 2.0k

elia’s notes: this was a painnn to write lmao

𝗺𝗮𝗿𝗸.

“begged someone to let me finish”

mark’s sheets were rustled and messy beneath you, the warm colored light pouring in from the sunset through his window. you’re straddling him, riding him deep and slow, and his hands were gripping your thighs like it’s the only thing that kept him from losing it.“baby,” he whines in a broken voice, “please—can i come? please?” you grin, leaning down to pepper kisses to his jaw. “i don’t know, markie. you just look so pretty like this.” he bucks up into you helplessly, already so close. so close, his cock was twitching inside you. “babe—fuck—i’ve been good baby, i need to—” you stop the movement of your hips entirely, just to hear him whimper beneath you. “then beg for it,” you whisper, tone low and seductive. mark knew he wasn’t above it, especially not when he needed it so bad. “please, sweetheart,” he gasps, completely wrecked. “please let me come. i wanna—wanna fill you up—please…” “so pretty when you beg,” you praise softly. “so good. again.” “babe,” he gasps, grabbing at your hips, “i’m serious—i’m gonna—if you keep going like that i—” you grind down on him only once more and he breaks. his hands fly to your thighs, his breath staggered, and he comes with a loud, whiny moan, spilling warm inside you while his whole body convulses under yours. you lean down to kiss him slow, smiling against his lips. “good boy.” mark groans again softly, head falling back against the pillow, a fucked out mess. “…i hate how much i liked that.”

𝗿𝗲𝗻𝗷𝘂𝗻.

“came in my pants”

you were comfortably straddling renjun on the couch, hands tangled in his hair, your hips rolling slow against his. it started off truthfully playful. just a few teasing touches, soft kisses, but now you were both breathing heavier, grinding into each other like you couldn’t help it. his hands grip your waist tighter and tighter, jaw clenched hard, head falling back against the cushions of the couch. “shit—baby—don’t stop,” he gasps, hips rocking up to meet yours every time. you can feel him easily through his sweatpants, warm and throbbing with need. the fabric between you was soaked from you rubbing on his lap. the pressure between you was just right, and he was close. too close. “so worked up already?” you tease, kissing up his neck to whisper in his ear. “that desperate for me?” “shut up,” he whines. “i can’t—i-i’m—” and then it happens. his hips stutter a jerk, breath catching in his throat as he comes hard in his pants, warmth spilling out between you. it soaked through the soft cotton of his sweats and against your own thin shorts. he lets out a moan, body tensing, arms tightening around your hips as he buries his face in your neck. “…fuck, i’m sorry,” he mumbles, voice muffled. “couldn’t hold it…” you shift your hips just a little and feel the mess in his pants, sticky and hot between you both. you smirk, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “don’t be sorry, baby,” you whisper. “came so good for me.”

𝗷𝗲𝗻𝗼.

“talked someone through touching themself”

“jen, i—” you start, eyes fluttering as your hand dips beneath your panties already. “shh,” he says, low and honey-toned over the phone. “i know, baby. i know you need it.” his phone was angled just right to show his hand lazily stroking himself, but his voice stays focused and firm for you. “put two fingers on your clit,” he murmurs. “slow. gentle.” you follow immediately without hesitating, gasping softly as you slide over your clit. “good,” he praises, voice already huskier. “that’s it. just like that.” you moan, thighs tensing and parting wider as your back arches a little. he watches everything; the way your lips part, the way your brows pull together, the motion of your fingers. “don’t rush,” he warns, hand still moving over himself, his grip a little tighter. “wanna watch you fall apart. slowly, baby.” you whimper his name softly, hips rocking up into your fingers. his voice drops even lower, almost ragged. “go deeper, baby. how would i touch you if i was there?” you bite your lip, sliding your fingers down and into your needy hole. two fingers pumping in and out, then three, messy and soaking. “fuuck,” he groans. “look at you. so wet just from my voice.” you pant harder, eyes hazing over now. at this point you were whining his name again as your fingers inside you faster. “you gonna come for me?” he asks, thumb brushing over his tip just like you would. “come on, baby. let me hear you. be good for me—” your back arches, mouth falling open, and you come with a trembling gasp, hips spasming into your hand. your skin flushed and damp with a sheer layer of sweat. jeno exhales through a grin, stroking himself faster now, like hearing your moans was all he needed. “good girl,” he says, low and warm. “that’s my baby.”

𝗵𝗮𝗲𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗻.

“had someone sit on my face”

you barely made it to your bedroom before haechan was tugging at your pants. his eyes were low, looking at you with a lazy grin. “sit on my face,” he said so casually, like it wasn’t the filthiest thing you’d heard all day. you blinked at him, half-laughing. “baby, i don’t wanna suffocate you.” he grinned even wider, already lying back on the mattress, hands behind his head. “damn good way to go.” his hands didn’t give you time to argue, pulling you up, and settled you over his mouth. before you could even adjust, his tongue was right there. hot and wet, dragging through your folds, teasing your clit in slow, gliding circles. he groaned against you, hands kneading your thighs, holding you down like he wanted to drown in you. now your thighs were shaking around his head, your puffy pussy pressed against his face, and his hands were gripping your ass like it’s the only thing he needed. your hips roll instinctively, and he whined deep into you like he lives for this. his tongue was relentless. continuously lapping at your folds, prodding your clit, dipping into you so deep you forget how to speak. “fuck—haechan—” you gasp, knuckles white as you grip the headboard for dear life. haechan pulls you down even harder to him, tongue burying deeper, and you cry out. coming faster than you ever have, thighs twitching and trembling on either side of his head. he doesn’t stop. not until you were relentlessly tugging at his hair, breathless and over sensitive, your legs barely holding you up. he pulls back finally, lips and chin glistening. and he was still grinning up at you like the smug little menace he is. “told you,” he pants, “best seat in the house.”

𝗷𝗮𝗲𝗺𝗶𝗻.

“got head in public”

jaemin tugged you down the hallway hurriedly, fingers firm around your wrist, eyes sharp with that needy expression. “jaem, someone’s gonna see—” “shh. no one’s around. it’ll be quick. promise.” he shoved open the dressing room door and you hardly heard the lock click before your back hit the wall, his lips crashing into yours. his hands were all wandering freely. under your shirt, at waistband of your pants, tugging, squeezing, just hungry. “need you, baby,” he whispered, breath warm on your neck. “need your mouth.” and then he’s sinking you to your knees. his cock is already hard by the time you freed it from his jeans. thick and pulsing in your hand, precum already slicking his tip. he lets out a soft groan when your tongue flicks over it softly. one hand finding the back of your head. “yeah,” he breathes, hips bucking . “just like that.” you take him into your mouth deeper, feeling him throb on your tongue. “my good girl,” he whispers, eyes locked on you. more so, the way you took him so easily. “make me feel good, baby…” you moan around him, and he intakes a sharp breath, jaw clenched. the dressing room was quiet except for the wet, lewd sounds of your mouth and his heavy breaths, the occasional curse slipping past his lips when you suck a little harder, sloppier. he fucks into your mouth mainly slow, trying not to lose it too fast. it was a lot easier said than done though, the sight of you like this, knees on the hardwood knowing they would be red when you stood. your plump lips wrapped around him. the way your eyes rolled each time he hit the back of your throat. it was all too much. “fu—gonna come,” he pants, breath ragged. “you gonna swallow for me, pretty girl?” you hum a yes around him and that’s it. his hips shudder, fingers gripping your hair tightly as he spills down your throat with a low, lustful moan.

𝗰𝗵𝗲𝗻𝗹𝗲.

“given someone backshots”

it started with him watching you change. eyes dark, biting his lip until he finally grabbed your hips. “turn around.” he exhaled deeply trying to keep his composure. then bent you over the bed. chenle mutters again, already pulling at your clothes. “wanna see that ass.” he’s not shy about it, and never has been. he palms at your ass, spreads it in his hands, and growls like he’s starving. somehow, you ended up on your knees at the edge of the bed, hands gripping the sheets, and when he slides in from behind, pressing deeply, he groans a breathless, “fuck—” like it never gets old. like it’s the movie he could watch over and over and never get bored. and then he starts moving. his hips snap against yours, unforgiving and needy, the slap of skin echoing through the room. one of his hands grips your waist tight, the other smoothes over your ass, fingers digging in every time you clench around him. “look at you,” he pants, voice cracked open with lust. “so fuckin’ good like this—made just for me.” you moan something back, something incoherent and desperate, but he’s already too lost to tease you. he comes first, his hips rocking into you as he looses his rhythm. chenle’s breath hitches as he empties inside you with an overwhelmed moan, but doesn’t stop. just groans again and keeps going, already getting hard again from how tight you still feel, how pretty you sound. “gonna make you come now, yeah?” he breathes out, cock twitching deep inside you. “don’t worry, baby. i’m not done.” his pace picks right back up, and you swear it’s even deeper this time. rougher, messier, as his grip bruising your hips like he’ll never let go.

𝗷𝗶𝘀𝘂𝗻𝗴.

“made someone come twice in a row, back to back”

it was really late at night, you were both in his room. dim and quiet except for the rustle of sheets and the soft, wet sound of his fingers working deep inside your cunt. “so fucking tight,” jisung muttered, breath shaky. “feels like you’re sucking me in.” his fingers curled inside you just right, long and slender. and with his thumb pressing over your clit in slow, perfect circles, your legs shook as your orgasm hit hard. it was sudden and blinding, ripping a cry out of your throat when you clenched repeatedly around his fingers. but he didn’t stop. didn’t even pause. you barely had time to catch your breath before you felt the warm, slick pressure of him pushing in your pussy, thick and heavy, stretching you open further while you were still throbbing from the first high. “ji—wait—” you gasped, nails digging into his arms. “can’t,” he panted, lips close to yours, eyes hazy and hungry. “you’re still so wet, baby, fuck—just let me—” his hips rolled forward, sinking in deep in one long and slow thrust. you whimpered, overwhelmed, already on the edge again from how sensitive you were. every movement made you shiver, and made your breath hitch. his forehead pressed to yours, lips brushing yours in messy, desperate kisses between moans. “give me another, yeah?” he whispered, voice breaking. “you can do it—please?” you nodded, tears rimming the corners of your eyes from the stretch and heat. “that’s it,” he breathed, thrusting a little faster but still so deep, hands grounding on your waist. “my perfect girl. give it to me.” your body writhes, back arching as you come again, even harder this time, clenching around him with a broken moan. and jisung loves it, soaks it all in.

[nenonee]

  ⠀ ── ୨♡୧⠀ dream when they want to kiss you !

guys... library

jeno. “cute.” just kissing him and pretending to go back to your thing isn't gonna work with him. he already has his arm around your waist and his fingers exerting gentle pressure when he makes you abruptly retrace your steps to collide his mouth with yours. good luck next time.

jaemin. “kiss me again.” dazed, surprised, lethargic. has he imagined it? it happened so fast that he couldn't even take it in, just his cheeks getting hot and his hands going after you when you pull away because he definitely wants it to last longer, and this time, he wants to appreciate the shape of your lips with his.

renjun. aside from the fact that his gaze is fixed on your mouth as you speak, you're pretty sure he's not hearing a single word of what you're saying. he doesn't even hide it. yet you won't stop talking, huh?, maybe he can steal a kiss from you while you scold him that he's not paying attention to you, when the reality is, he can't see past you.

haechan. “c'mere.” can you blame him? he just tries not to lose his composure, now it seems that he hasn't even flinched at all. he lets out a silly giggle. well, you look annoyed, and he can't help but chuckle; you look adorable. a little resistance is no opponent for him; he has that cool face you hate when he kisses you back, and now you know that's how you properly kiss someone.

jisung. “stop playing with me.” he's a fool. and a loser. why does he feel so defenseless with you? the way you grin after makes you look a little evil, are you playing with him? he doesn't know. oh, the big words he wants to pronounce. he just can't. you're not being sincere, are you? if he kisses you again if his hands are wrapped around yours and he puts them on his neck as before, if he brings his lips close to you, will he be able to know? will you know?

chenle. that little act that you play looking like you don't know what he means attracts him even more. you want to kiss him. badly. or maybe for the whole time, he's the one who wants to. he's dying for it. would he tell you? no. would he prove it to you? he honestly hoped that by having you so close you could hear what his heart is trying to say. but since it doesn't seem to be working, then his mouth says so. approaching yours. “kiss me. kiss me a lot.”

mark. “yes?” why do you look at him as if you're expecting something? probably a pretty bad joke he can't even think right now since he's nervous. you lean towards him and kiss his cheek. it would have been enough, don't you think? for the longest time, he's dreamed of this moment. but the more he thinks about it, the more it becomes clear. that it wasn't just his dream all this time, that him leaning over and pressing his mouth against your lips had been yours, always.

[nenonee]

Crush Catalog | The 𝒥 Files

introducing to you a 6-part series featuring nct’s ‘J line’

college au, interconnected standalones, afab!reader, will contain mature content (18+ mdni)

taglist (open!) @bluedbliss @rosakjs @lovesuhng @4nesu @skittyneos

Part 1 | Where We Begin Again

☆ fwb!johnny x reader

trope → friends with benefits to lovers

synopsis You and Johnny are longtime friends who started hooking up out of convenience—no strings attached, right? Except now, you're both catching feelings but too scared to ruin the friendship. One night after an especially heated encounter, something shifts—a vulnerable moment slips out. Tension builds when one of you tries to pull away, but fate keeps throwing you back together.

Part 2 | Somewhere Between Us

☆ ex!jaehyun x reader

trope → exes to lovers

synopsis You and Jaehyun dated years ago—the kind of deep, youthful love that felt like forever—until life pulled you apart. Now you're back in the same city. A run-in at a mutual friend’s party reopens the door, and neither of you can ignore the tension. There's still hurt… but also lingering desire.

As you reconnect—cautiously, hesitantly—old sparks reignite. But there's pain buried under the surface. Can you forgive the past? Can he?

Part 3 | Underneath It All

☆ nerd!jeno x reader

trope → academic rivals/enemies to lovers

synopsis You and Jeno are friendly enemies—always neck and neck at school. You challenge each other, argue over ideas, and secretly admire one another, though neither of you admits it.

One night, you’re both stuck working late on the same project. Tension brews—academic snark turns into flirtation, and when you finally snap, it's a kiss… then a lot more.

After that, things shift. The teasing is more charged. You catch him staring. He lingers after meetings. But you’re both scared to cross that line again—is it just tension, or is there something real underneath?

Part 4 | Practice Makes Perfect

☆ fakebf!jaemin x reader

trope → fake dating/friends to lovers

synopsis You’ve been close friends with Jaemin for years— the kind who flirt without realizing, share late-night snacks, and never address the elephant in the room: you're incredibly compatible.

When a situation arises—your ex showing up in town—you ask Jaemin to pretend to be your boyfriend.

He’s way too good at it. Touches linger, pet names slip out naturally, and he looks at you like he means it. You both try to play it cool, but the tension builds until one night you can’t fake it anymore.

What neither of you expected? The fear of messing up the friendship… and how much it’ll hurt if this isn’t real.

Part 5 | Something Like Love

☆ bsf!jungwoo x reader

trope → best friends to lovers

synopsis You and Jungwoo have always had that kind of friendship—warm, easy, comfortable. You’ve been there through finals week breakdowns, bad dates, roommate drama, and everything in between. Everyone assumes you’ve hooked up. You haven’t. Not once.

But in senior year, things shift.

Maybe you're both single at the same time. Maybe one night, after a party, you end up in his bed—just to sleep, like always—but it feels different. The air changes. You start to notice the way he looks at you. How his hands hesitate when they touch your arm. How he doesn’t pull away anymore.

Then it happens. A kiss. A touch. A confession that slips out when you least expect it.

But it’s messy, because what if it ruins the friendship? What if it’s not the same after? What if he’s been in love with you longer than you knew—and what if you’re only realizing you’ve always loved him back?

Final part | Across the Hall

☆ neighbour!jisung x reader

trope → strangers to friends to lovers

synopsis You’ve just moved into a small off-campus apartment, and Jisung lives right across the hall. He’s quiet, polite, always wearing headphones, always buried in his own world. The two of you exchange casual greetings at first—but over time, that awkward “neighbor energy” turns into something deeper.

The first real shift happens one evening when you lock yourself out of your apartment—barefoot, holding laundry, feeling ridiculous. Jisung’s the only one home, and he offers to let you stay in his place while you wait for the locksmith. What begins as an awkward favor becomes a surprisingly easy conversation over ramen and reruns playing low on his small TV.

Slowly, you become friends. Shared study breaks, spontaneous grocery runs, nights spent half-laughing, half-whispering on the hallway floor.

He’s reserved, but you notice the subtle ways he starts opening up: leaving little notes on your door, offering bites of snacks he made too much of, brushing your hand and pretending it didn’t happen. It’s all unspoken… until it’s not.

an : spontaneously decided to start working on a series..! hehe, i’m excited to see how this goes!

probably will be slow updates—no fixed release dates yet!

[nenonee]

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.” 

[nenonee]

7 minutes - jeno

cw: explicit sexual content, rough sex, dirty talk, spitting kink, spanking, domination/submission dynamics, power play, non-consensual elements implied (pressure/coercion in game context), oral sex, degradation, orgasm denial/edging, bodily fluids, language, public setting, alcohol use, breath play (light choking implied), emotional intensity.

wc: 1991

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. 🔞

the party had been a mess from the start.

someone spiked the drinks, the living room was trashed, and half the people had already passed out on the floor, shoes still on. what was left was a circle of survivors, all flushed cheeks, glossy eyes, and dirty minds. and of course, someone had to say it:

“truth or dare.”

you had laughed, shaking your head, but ended up joining anyway — too drunk to care, too bored to leave. the dares had started simple. lick someone’s neck. take off a shirt. kiss your ex. harmless. stupid. messy. but then haechan decided to turn things up.

“y/n,” he grinned, leaning in with that look that never meant anything good. “dare.”

“of course,” you muttered.

“sit on jeno’s lap. and stay there for five rounds.”

there were hoots and whistles, someone fake-gasped. your eyes flicked to jeno — quiet, respectful, the kind of guy who always avoided eye contact too long. he looked... surprised. and kind of nervous.

you walked over and sat down anyway.

at first, it was stiff. awkward. your back barely touched his chest, your legs tense. he didn’t move, not even a breath out of place. you almost rolled your eyes. but with each round, something shifted.

maybe it was the way your hips subtly adjusted on his thighs.

maybe it was how his fingers twitched when your weight settled just a little deeper.

you felt it before you wanted to believe it — the way he tensed under you, the unmistakable hardening between your thighs. his jaw locked. you felt it when you leaned back a bit more, just to test.

oh.

definitely not as innocent as he seemed.

by the fifth round, the room had gotten louder, messier, hazier. your body was warm, buzzing with every tiny movement jeno didn’t make. his hands were gripping the couch now. his breathing was slow, deep. focused.

you didn’t dare turn to look at him.

then haechan stood up again, wicked and way too excited.

“alright, new game,” he announced. “seven minutes in heaven.”

you barely registered it before he pointed straight at you and jeno. “you two. go.”

before you could protest, someone grabbed your wrist, someone else opened the bathroom door, and suddenly you were being pushed inside, jeno right behind you. the door slammed shut.

click.

locked.

“seven minutes,” renjun yelled from outside. “don’t waste it!” jaemin added.

you turned to jeno, heart pounding.

“this is stupid,” you muttered.

“yeah,” he said quietly, leaning back against the door. “we’ll just wait. it’s fine.”

but just as the silence started to stretch, chenle’s voice rang out like a goddamn gunshot:

“don’t come out till you’ve fucked.”

the room went still. jeno froze behind you. you turned around slowly — ready to roll your eyes, maybe laugh it off.

but when you looked up, he was staring at you.

not nervous. not shy. not innocent.

his jaw was clenched, eyes dark and heavy, like he was holding something in for way too long. like he’d finally decided he was done pretending.

“you think this is funny?” he asked, voice low, rough.

you opened your mouth to speak, but before you could even form a word, his hand grabbed your throat and pinned you against the cold tile wall.

your breath hitched.

“you’ve been fucking teasing me all night,” he hissed, his body pressing into yours. “shifting your hips like that, grinding on my dick like you don’t know what you’re doing.”

you swallowed, lips parting, eyes wide. “i wasn’t—”

“shut up.” his grip tightened just enough to make your thighs press together.

“you knew what you were doing. you just didn’t think i’d do anything about it.”

his knee forced itself between your legs, spreading them, lifting you slightly until your back arched against the wall. the tile was freezing, but his body was burning — every inch of him hard, tense, controlled.

“so i’m gonna make it real clear for you now,” he growled, leaning down until his mouth brushed your ear.

“you wanted to play? fine. but this isn’t a fucking game anymore.”

his hand left your throat only to drag down your body, rough and fast, yanking at your waistband, fingers slipping under your panties without hesitation.

“i’m gonna ruin you.”

his fingers slipped past your folds like he owned the place. no teasing. no warning. just a low grunt from his throat when he felt how wet you already were.

“fuck,” he whispered, lips grazing your ear. “you’re dripping.”

you gasped, but his hand clamped over your mouth before any sound left you.

“don’t make a noise,” he growled. “unless you want them all to hear how much you love being used.”

his fingers thrust into you, deep, rough — two at once, curling just right, moving with no hesitation. your knees buckled, but he shoved his thigh between them again, keeping you upright.

“i’ve been hard since you sat on me,” he muttered, lips brushing your neck. “and you just kept moving… like a little slut who wanted to get fucked in front of everyone.”

you whimpered under his palm, hips jerking as he started fucking his fingers into you faster, harder, your whole body rocking with the rhythm.

“look at you,” he sneered. “you act all quiet. innocent. cold. but your cunt’s begging for it, isn’t it?”

he pulled his fingers out, wet and glistening, and shoved them into your mouth.

“suck.”

you obeyed without thinking — lips parting, tongue wrapping around them as he watched, eyes dark, hungry, like he was holding back a storm.

“good girl.”

jeno turned you around without warning, one strong hand on your hip, the other fisting your hair. he bent you over the bathroom counter, your cheek pressed to the cold surface.

you heard the sound of his zipper. the thick weight of him pressing against you.

“you’ve got seven minutes,” he growled. “and i’m gonna spend every second fucking the brat out of you.”

he slammed into you in one brutal thrust, no hesitation — just the full, overwhelming stretch of him filling you up all at once. you cried out, voice muffled by the counter, and jeno just grunted behind you.

“yeah,” he muttered. “that’s what i thought.”

his pace was merciless. hips snapping into yours, hard enough to make the counter rattle. your nails scratched at the surface, eyes rolling back as he fucked you like he hated you — like he’d been waiting too long to be gentle anymore.

every thrust was a punishment.

“take it,” he growled. “you wanted this. take every fucking inch.”

he yanked your hair, forcing you to look at the mirror. your eyes met his in the reflection — wild, dark, raw.

“look at yourself,” he hissed. “look how wrecked you already are. and i’m not even close to done.”

your cheek pressed to the counter, breath fogging the mirror as jeno slammed into you over and over — each thrust deeper, filthier, rougher.

you were shaking, moaning, barely able to hold yourself up.

and then he grabbed your jaw.

his hand wrapped around your face, forcing you to lift your head just enough to look at yourself. your eyes were watery, lips swollen, drool clinging to the corner of your mouth.

“open.”

you hesitated, lips parting slowly.

“wider,” he snapped.

you obeyed — eyes locked on his through the reflection, mouth wide open like a good little toy.

jeno leaned forward, spitting directly onto your tongue. the thick wet sound made your whole body jolt.

“don’t swallow yet,” he growled, pulling back just to spit again — this time on your face, the slick strand dripping down your cheek. “look at you. fuck.”

he gripped your jaw tighter, forcing your head back down as he thrust even harder into you.

“this is what you wanted, right? to be fucked like a filthy little thing in a stranger’s bathroom? to be used?”

you moaned, hips jerking back against him, needing more — needing everything.

“swallow it.”

you obeyed, the taste of him sliding down your throat as he slammed into you harder. the sound of skin on skin was loud, wet, disgusting. the room smelled like sex. your mind was a blur of pleasure and shame and need.

jeno reached down, fingers rubbing your clit roughly, circling fast.

“gonna cum?” he growled. “already? fuckin’ pathetic.”

you nodded desperately, sobbing out a yes, a please, anything.

he spat again — this time on your ass, then rubbed it in with his palm, leaving a hot slap in its place.

“then cum,” he ordered, voice low and dangerous. “cum all over my cock like the messy little whore you are.”

jeno’s hands didn’t just grab and push — they owned you.

as he fucked you hard against the counter, one hand slipped down to your ass, squeezing it firmly. you gasped, but before you could catch your breath, his palm came down hard, smacking your cheek with a sharp slap that echoed in the small bathroom.

“you like that, don’t you?” he growled, fingers digging into the flesh as he pulled your hips back to slam into him again. “how good it feels to be controlled, to be marked?”

another smack, slower this time, teasing. your skin tingled, heat flooding through every nerve ending.

“say it,” he ordered. “say you want me to keep spanking you.”

you bit your lip, words catching in your throat — but his grip on your hip tightened, fingers trailing down to pinch your skin.

“louder.”

“please, jeno,” you finally whispered, voice trembling. “spank me.”

a wicked smile spread across his face.

“you asked for it.”

smack.

your whole body jerked, the sting raw but delicious, like fire and ice all at once.

his hand moved fast, alternating between hard spanks and firm squeezes — building a rhythm that matched his thrusts. each hit made you shiver and moan, your pussy clenching around him tighter every time.

“you’re mine,” he said, voice low and rough. “marked. bruised. wrecked. and i’m not stopping until you’re begging.”

you cried out, the pleasure mixed with pain overwhelming, your world reduced to the feeling of his hand on your skin and his cock deep inside you.

“that’s it,” jeno encouraged, voice rough with need. “let it all go. show me how much you want this.”

the last hard smack landed on your burning skin, your body trembling, wet and sore in all the right ways. jeno’s thrusts slowed, but he didn’t stop — not yet. his fingers still kneaded your bruised ass, his grip tight, possessive.

“cum for me,” he growled, voice rough, eyes dark and wild.

you cried out, your walls clenching so tight around him it felt like your whole world shattered. jeno didn’t let up, pushing you over the edge harder than you ever thought possible — raw, dirty, demanding.

when you finally collapsed against the counter, panting, tears mixing with sweat, jeno pulled out slowly, lips pressing a bruising kiss to your shoulder.

“you okay, baby?” he asked, voice low but soft just for a second.

you nodded, barely able to speak.

he gave your ass one last rough squeeze, then grabbed your hand, pulling you up.

“let’s get out of here.”

you followed him out of the cramped bathroom, legs weak, hair a mess, cheeks flushed and red from his hands — totally undone.

but jeno? he looked calm, untouched — like he’d just stepped out for a breath of fresh air. his shirt was perfect, his hair neat, that cocky smirk still playing on his lips.

as the door opened, the room fell silent.

all eyes snapped to you — disheveled, flushed, breathless, vulnerable.

“what the fuck?” someone whispered.

“did they seriously just…?” another voice trailed off.

jeno caught your gaze, winked, then turned back to the group.

“yeah,” he said with a slow grin. “we’re definitely capable.”

you wanted to sink through the floor, but he just laughed, pulling you close again.

“don’t worry,” he whispered in your ear. “they’ll never forget tonight.”

[nenonee]

Studio Heat (18+)

Pairing: Lee Jeno x Female Reader

Synopsis: YN and Jeno are both friends from the same friend group and part of the same dance club but never that close. That's until they are paired together for a dance routine which turns out to be more intimate than what you'd consider safe. During the late night practice sessions in an empty studio things take a wild turn when an 'accidental touch' unravels their desires.

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Genre: Smut, slight friends-to-lust, dance practice tension, accidental stimulation, sexual tension

Word Count: \~4.1k

Warnings: Public setting (empty studio), filthy language, oral (f receiving), rough sex, fingering, choking, spanking, degradation, mild hair pulling, mirror sex, dominance/power play, overstimulation, possessiveness

_______________________________________________________

It wasn’t supposed to go like this.

You and Jeno were never that close. Friends, technically—part of the same group—but there was always a space between you two. A line neither of you crossed.

Until dance club paired you for a duet. Something sharp and hot. Intense.

You’d agreed. Of course you had. He was good—really good—and you weren’t about to let some mild tension get in the way of performing. But dancing with Jeno meant touching Jeno. A lot. And touching him meant… noticing.

The way his hands flexed when he gripped your waist.

The way he always licked his bottom lip when the music started.

The way he smelled—clean sweat and something deeper, darker.

And the way he looked at you in the mirror. Always through the mirror.

You weren’t sure when it started feeling like foreplay.

But tonight, it all breaks.

The studio is dim and empty, save for the two of you. The mirrors stretch endlessly, reflecting you back at yourselves—sweaty, out of breath, worn out from hours of practice

“This lift still isn’t hitting right,” he mutters, running a hand through his damp hair.

You sigh. “It’s probably me. I’m not getting the angle.”

He moves behind you. “Let’s run it again.”

You nod. You know the count by heart.

He steps in. Grips your waist.

And lifts.

Your thighs hover in the air, perfectly framed around his head—his face just beneath the waistband of your shorts. His grip is tight, strong.

But his foot slips.

And suddenly—his face is right there.

Pressed between your thighs.

And he stays.

Just for a second too long.

His breath fans your inner thigh, hot and sharp, and then—he inhales.

And you moan.

Not soft. Not subtle. A broken, filthy sound you can’t swallow back.

His grip tightens.

Your body goes still.

He doesn’t move. Doesn’t apologize. Doesn’t make a joke or even pretend to reset. He just… stays there, breathing you in, face pressed so close you’re sure he can smell just how wet you are.

And then he lowers you.

You hit the floor on shaky legs, face flushed, heart thundering in your chest.

Neither of you says a word.

Neither of you dares.

You reset. Try to play it off. Run the routine again. Go through the motions.

But every time he touches you now, it lingers. His palm on your hip. His fingers brushing the edge of your sports bra. His hand trailing too low on your back.

And you… you stop pulling away.

You even lean in once.

The track ends.

There’s silence.

He exhales through his nose. “You moaned.”

You whip around. “You sniffed me.”

“I was trying to catch you.”

“You fucking stayed there, Jeno. Your face was in my pussy and you didn’t move.”

He stalks toward you.

You don’t back up.

“You liked it,” he mutters.

Your breath hitches. “So what if I did?”

His jaw clenches. “You want me to do it again?”

You glare. “You don’t have the balls.”

That breaks him.

He grabs your wrist, yanks you into him, and slams your back against the mirror. The cool glass bites your spine.

“Wanna bet?” he growls.

Then his mouth crashes into yours—hot, wild, desperate. His tongue slides deep. You moan, grinding against him, and he growls into your mouth.

“You think I haven’t noticed the way you stare at my hands?” he breathes, trailing one down between your legs. “You’ve been wanting this. Walking around in those fucking shorts like you’re begging me to snap.”

“You’re not special,” you snap back, panting. “Just another cock I could’ve sat on.”

He slams his thigh between your legs. “Then ride it.”

You do. Instinctively. Grinding on his thigh, humping it like you’re in heat.

“You’re so dirty,” he groans. “You get off that easy? Just a little friction?”

“Fucking shut up,” you gasp, chasing the drag of his thigh on your clit.

“Make me.”

You crash your lips into his again, biting, messy. His hand tangles in your hair, yanks it back so you’re exposed—mouth open, neck bared.

He licks a stripe up your throat. “Bet you taste good everywhere.”

Then—he drops to his knees.

You barely register it before he yanks your shorts and panties down in one motion and devours you.

His mouth is obscene. Tongue flicking, lips sucking, teeth grazing until your knees buckle. You moan loud, tugging his hair as your hips buck against his face.

“Fuck—Jeno—fuck—”

He moans against your pussy like he’s addicted, eating you like it’s his last fucking meal.

When you cum, it’s explosive. Your thighs quake, your body collapses forward, and he holds you there—tongue lapping up every drop like a goddamn reward.

When he stands, his chin is glistening. His eyes are feral.

“Turn around,” he commands.

You obey.

He rips the rest of your clothes off, like he’s starving. Then you hear the sound of his sweats dropping. A condom tearing open.

“Mirror,” he snaps. “I want you to watch.”

You lock eyes with yourself just as he slams into you from behind—and screams rip from your throat.

“Fucking tight,” he groans. “This pussy was made for me.”

He grips your hips, pounding into you hard, the mirror shaking with every thrust. Your tits bounce, your jaw drops, your moans fill the room.

“Look at you,” he snarls, voice right in your ear. “A filthy little slut getting railed in the studio.”

“F-fuck—Jeno—!”

He wraps a hand around your throat and pulls you back onto his cock.

“Say it,” he pants. “Say you’re my slut.”

“I’m—fuck—I’m your slut—I’m yours—”

He slaps your ass so hard you yelp. Then does it again.

“You like getting fucked like this? In front of a mirror like a porn star?”

You nod, gasping, broken. “Yes—yes, I love it—”

He laughs, dark. “Fucking knew it. Knew you were hiding this under that fake little good girl act.”

He grabs your hair, yanks your head back, and spits in your mouth.

You swallow it.

He moans. “Oh fuck. You’re fucking disgusting.”

You grin through the tears. “You love it.”

“Damn right I do.”

He pulls out and the loss of his heat makes you whimper immediately.

“On your knees.”

You drop immediately, taking him into your mouth—swollen and dripping from your cunt. You gag around him, tears streaming as he fucks your face slow and deep.

“Look up,” he pants. “Eyes on me.”

You meet his gaze, moaning around his length.

He pulls out just before he cums, hauls you up, spins you again, and slams back in. This time harder. Deeper. Faster.

“Gonna cum inside this pretty pussy,” he growls. “Wanna watch your hole suck me dry.”

Your orgasm hits hard—your walls clamp around him, a scream tearing from your throat.

“Fuck—Jeno—!”

He moans your name as he spills into the condom, burying himself deep and holding you there.

The room falls silent.

Only gasps. Shudders. Sweat.

He slowly pulls out. You collapse to your knees.

He kneels in front of you. Lifts your chin.

His lips brush yours—gentler, this time.

“You gonna ignore me again tomorrow?” he murmurs.

You grin. “Not if you promise to fuck me stupid again.”

He smirks.

“Studio. Same time. Don’t wear panties.”

_______________________________________________________

Author's note: y'all don't understand how badly I crave this man please god just fulfill this one wish please uhhmmm anyway haha hope y'all like it. I have too many smuts in my draft and what for????? i never thought I'd be posting them but I guess a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do

[nenonee]

Falling asleep on Jeno by accident

pairing : jeno x reader

word count : 504

an: since i disappeared for a while, here’s some silly fluff 🥹

You could hear the gentle tap of raindrops against the window as you typed away at your computer. The only other noise was the rhythmic clicking of the keyboard next to you and the occasional sound of Jeno clearing his throat. You checked the time—it was a bit past 7. Just finish this section of the project and then head home, you told yourself.

Jeno was your classmate and project partner. The teacher had assigned partners, not giving anyone the liberty to choose. Not that you were going to complain—Jeno was cute, and this gave you an excuse to talk to him. And now, here you were, over at his place, working on the project. But hey—a win is a win.

You’d been working for a few hours, occasionally exchanging a few words with Jeno as you both focused on different parts of the assignment. Your elbow was propped on the coffee table, cheek resting in your palm. Finish this and you can go home, you reminded yourself.

But it seemed you were more tired than you realized. Your head began to feel heavy in your hand, eyes fluttering closed as you fought to keep them open. Jeno glanced over from the corner of his eye, a small amused smile tugging at his lips.

Soon, your tired arm gave out under the weight, and your head fell softly against Jeno’s shoulder. He tensed for a moment, looking down at you—but then he relaxed, lips twitching into a gentle smile.

His hand reached up to your hair, fingers threading through your locks with quiet affection as he admired your sleeping form. He wouldn’t tell you just yet, but Jeno had always had a crush on you. And this—having you asleep against him—was something he’d only ever imagined before.

—

An hour or two later, you woke up to the unfamiliar weight resting atop your head and a large hand splayed gently over your shoulder. You blinked the sleep away, trying to reorient yourself. As your eyes adjusted, they landed on Jeno’s sleeping face.

You took a moment to admire him up close, careful not to wake him. His plump lips, thick eyebrows, and that small mole by his eye—god, he was perfect.

You hadn’t meant to fall asleep. You definitely hadn’t meant to do it on him. But now, with the soft rise and fall of his chest beneath your head, and the way his hand was still resting protectively on your shoulder, it was hard to feel anything other than...warm.

You shifted slightly, trying not to disturb him while trying to free yourself to actually go home this time, but his arm instinctively tightened around you, holding you just a little closer.

Your heart skipped a beat at that. And you think—maybe—just maybe, you could stay just a little longer..

Just until the rain stops.

© ssweetreveries follow for more!

asks are always open for anything! ♡

[nenonee]

Between Reps

The gym’s got that low hum of music and clinks of metal—nothing unusual, except your boyfriend looks unfairly good under the overhead lights.

Sleeveless black top, sweat-slicked neck, jaw clenched as he curls the bar with perfect form.

You sip your water slowly, pretending not to stare. Failing.

He catches your eyes in the mirror. “That’s the third set you’ve watched me do.”

“And?” you say, casually checking your watch. “I’m making sure you’re hitting full range.”

“Sure,” he says, smirking. “You’ve been watching my *range* since we walked in.”

You roll your eyes but your face is warm. Jeno drops the bar, grabs a towel, and walks over with that confident post-set strut. He smells like cedar body wash and effort, and it’s unfair.

“C’mon,” he says, offering his hand. “We’re doing partner planks.”

You groan. “Why do your date ideas involve core pain?”

“Because,” he says, already dragging a mat over, “it means I get to be next to you while we both look good.”

So you do it—forearms on the mat, shoulders aligned, Jeno across from you, face barely inches away. He counts softly, voice low and rhythmic.

“Twenty seconds left,” he says. “Looking strong.”

“I hate you.”

He smirks. “Still staring.”

You break, collapsing in laughter while he rolls to your side, grinning. He tugs your wrist and gently pulls you onto his chest, not caring that you're both sweaty and breathless.

You lay there for a minute—no talking, just the sound of his heart slowing, fingers lazily tracing patterns on your back.

“Hey,” he murmurs eventually. “Wanna skip cardio and grab smoothies?”

You lift your head, grinning. “That *was* cardio. Loving you is a workout.”

He snorts, shoving your head lightly before pulling you back in. “Cheesy,” he says, kissing your forehead. “But I’ll allow it.”

---

[nenonee]

What’s the dirtiest role play Jeno and y/n have ever engaged in?

these are all lowkey insane, you guys know they’re a wild and very experimental couple. i’d confidently say that all these things are canon

1. the stranger in the hallway — full-body objectification, minimal talking, cunt-dumb degradation

this one started with a single text: leave your door unlocked. jeno didn’t say when he’d arrive. y/n wasn’t allowed to speak when he did. she was already on her knees when he walked in — hood up, no shirt underneath, black gloves. she wasn’t allowed to look at his face. he walked in, locked the door behind him, dropped a condom on the floor, and unzipped. it was violent. no names. no rhythm. she had to keep her palms flat against the wall while he bent her over the hallway console table and fucked her with her own vibrator still inside her. double penetration. no prep. the first thing he said all night was, “fuck, your pussy’s stuffed like you’ve been waiting for this all day.” when she moaned too loud, he shoved two gloved fingers into her mouth and told her to shut the fuck up like he didn’t know her name. she came without permission, legs shaking, eyes watering. he didn’t stop. took the vibrator out just to push it back in again. over and over, until she was drooling and stuttering and couldn’t remember what day it was. when it was over, he zipped up and left. never looked at her face. she found a bruise on her neck the next morning and came again in the shower just remembering it.

2. the thief and the brat — home invasion, bondage, begging kink, ruined orgasm denial

jeno broke into her apartment at 3am wearing a ski mask. she was already in bed. it was part of the setup — she told him if you want to play, scare me a little. he did. she shrieked when he grabbed her ankles and pinned them to the bed, and moaned seconds later when he dragged the rope from under her pillow. wrists bound above her, mask still on, he searched her drawers for her vibrator and said, “you keep your toys too clean. i’m gonna change that.” he made her beg for it. called her a rich little slut who needed to be put in her place. made her say “please, sir, steal my orgasm,” before he let her come. except — he didn’t. he ruined it. over and over. every time she got close, he pulled the toy away. flicked it back on only when she whimpered. fucked her through the edge while her thighs trembled and her mouth hung open in disbelief. when she started crying, he kissed her knees and said, “you wanted to be broken in, right?” left the ropes on until morning.

3. the ‘roommate’ humiliation — group chat kink, forced audio, full performance degradation

jeno told her to leave her phone on speaker. told her to play dumb and pretend it was a “voice note for the girls.” he bent her over the edge of the bed and started fucking her while holding her phone in one hand. kept whispering filth in her ear, loud enough for the mic to catch. “gonna let them hear how good this pussy sounds?” she was soaking the sheets, shaking, babbling through sobs of “jeno, they’re gonna know—” and he cut her off with a slap to the ass and another brutal thrust. “let them. you’re the one who said you wanted them to know you’re taken.” she came so hard she screamed. he replayed the voice note before sending it. made her listen to the wet, slapping sounds and the way she sobbed his name like she couldn’t breathe. then — he deleted it. “not for them. just wanted you to know how you sound when you lose control.”

4. the “punishment” tape — camera work, forced eye contact, full dom filth with denial play

he set the phone up against the headboard. locked in focus. she wasn’t allowed to look away. he told her to keep her hands behind her back, legs spread, ass on his lap while he used the vibrator on her — and the entire time, he whispered into her ear what he saw in the camera. “look at you. dripping. pathetic. you like knowing someone could see you like this? think they’d know you’re mine?” she tried to twist away and he yanked her hips back down. “stay still. this isn’t for you. this is for when you forget who you belong to.” when she finally came, he made her watch the whole thing back. three times. legs shaking. vibrator still pulsing on her overstimmed clit.

5. mean professor jeno vs. bratty student y/n — flipped halfway, power reversal, oral control, face fucking

it starts with him pacing behind the desk, thick binder in hand, voice cold. “you think i wouldn’t notice you copied that final paragraph word for word?” she’s in uniform. skirt way too short. knees together like she’s playing innocent. but she’s not scared. she smirks. lets her fingers trail along the edge of his desk. “so what? you gonna fail me? or fuck me?” he’s thrown. just for a second. but it’s enough. because the second he pulls her out of the chair and puts her on her knees, she drops the act. takes control. deepthroats him fast, sloppy, loud, looking up with those tear-glazed eyes. “you’re the one who wanted this,” she breathes between sucks. “you needed a reason.” he moans. tries to pull back. she grabs his hips and shoves him deeper, gagging herself on purpose, humming until he begs to come. she spits him out, wipes her mouth, and says, “that’s what i call an oral exam.”

6. handcuffed in the backseat — officer jeno and the girl who won’t behave, full restraint, grinding, public edging

he tells her she’s being too loud. too reckless. caught trespassing on campus after curfew. cuffs her hands behind her back before he even gets her in the car. she’s not scared. she’s giddy. climbing into the backseat with her skirt bunched and no underwear, daring him with every breath. he sits beside her. doesn’t even drive. just stares. and she leans in, lips brushing his neck, whispering, “are you gonna take me downtown, officer? or bend me over right here?” he chokes on air. she laughs. slides her thigh over his lap and grinds. slow. filthy. restrained. she keeps her arms cuffed behind her the whole time, riding him with nothing to hold onto but her own balance, until he’s cursing into her neck and telling her to slow down. “you cuffed me,” she moans, dripping onto his lap. “you wanna stop it, uncuff me.” he doesn’t.

7. roommate walk-in: ass eating chaos — pure carnality, spit, dominance, tongue-deep obsession

this one doesn’t even start as roleplay. they’re at her place. he’s teasing her. says she’s too shy to ever sit on his face. she looks him dead in the eye and says, “lay down.” he does. shirt still on. belt undone. she straddles his face backwards — skirt still on — and sinks onto his mouth. he moans so loud it echoes. hands gripping her thighs like he’s trying to anchor himself. she rocks back slow until his tongue’s at her ass and doesn’t stop. he licks like he’s starving. she’s already wet, panting, grinding against his face with full weight, and he doesn’t stop even when her legs start to shake. “fuck—jeno, you’re gonna make me come again,” she whines. he just groans harder. she pulls her cheeks apart, fully riding him until he’s moaning into her hole like it’s the only thing he wants in the world. when their roommate walks in and screams, she doesn’t even move. just grinds down harder and says, “busy.”

8. casting couch chaos — porn parody, objectification, verbal filth, fast and feral

jeno plays the hotshot director. black cap, clipboard, camera already recording. she plays herself — but sluttier. sits on the edge of the couch with her thighs spread, licking gloss off her bottom lip while he paces and says, “so what makes you think you’re right for the role?” she shrugs, pulls her shirt over her head, no bra. “i take direction.” he laughs. “prove it.” she kneels between his legs and unzips him without blinking. takes him in her mouth, strokes what doesn’t fit, moans around his cock until he starts slipping — then pulls off. sits on his lap. rides him slow, while whispering, “what do i get if i pass the audition?” he growls. she clenches. he nearly spills. she grins and says, “guess i’ll wait for a callback.”

(longer scene)

6. “you’re here to learn.” — roleplay setup, control dynamics, initiation

they don’t tell her what it is. they just invite her upstairs. jeno’s shirt’s already half off, face flushed from the weed he hit too hard off yn’s tongue. the new girl’s glossy-eyed, dizzy from the shot she took downstairs, all pink lips and fluttery lashes, trying to keep up. yn circles her like smoke, trailing her nails down her arm. “you ever been in a threesome before?” she asks, sweet like poison. the girl shakes her head. yn hums. presses a kiss under her jaw and turns her face toward jeno, who’s already palming himself through his jeans. “good,” she says, voice like silk over something sharp. “then you won’t mind if i show you how it’s done.”

everything’s already melting. yn lights the joint and blows the first drag into jeno’s mouth, then pulls the other girl in and does the same. secondhand high, passed between tongues. her lipstick smears over both of them. someone slipped something into the tequila—just enough to make their skin buzz, just enough to make every moan echo. jeno’s panting before anyone’s even naked. yn grabs the girl by the chin and murmurs, “you feel that? that’s your pussy getting wet from my mouth. now imagine what it’ll be like when you’re on your knees for him.” the girl gasps. yn licks the sound off her lips.

jeno’s laid out on the velvet couch, shirt discarded, jeans around his thighs, eyes barely focused. his cock’s flushed and leaking, twitching in his hand, and yn’s already sinking down between his legs. she nods at the girl. “get over here.” the girl crawls. eager. innocent. stupid. yn strokes jeno’s cock slow, then licks a stripe up the shaft without breaking eye contact. “watch closely,” she purrs. “you want to make him cry? go for the vein.” she wraps her lips around him and sinks deep, pulling off with a messy pop, then pats the girl’s cheek. “your turn. open up.” the girl takes him. jeno moans. yn pulls her hair back and whispers, “don’t be shy. choke on it.”

jeno’s gone. hips jerking, throat tight, hands gripping both heads. yn grabs the girl’s hair and holds her down just long enough to make her eyes water, then yanks her off and kisses her hard, open-mouthed, spit-mixed, wet and sloppy. “you’re trying,” she says with a laugh, slapping her cheek once lightly. “but you’re not there yet.” she spins her around, bends her over, fingers in her pussy while she sucks him again. yn kneels behind her and licks her open like it’s dessert, hands spreading her thighs. “maybe he’ll come for you this time,” yn hums, mouthing her ass while watching jeno twitch. “but only if you beg.”

jeno’s crying out by the time yn straddles him. his cock’s soaked in spit and slick and shame. she sinks down in one go and throws her head back, pussy swallowing him so fast it punches the breath out of his lungs. his hands claw at her thighs, but she pins them down to his chest and starts riding, slow at first, a taunting grind that makes him twitch and whimper. the other girl’s kneeling beside them, wide-eyed and flushed, lips swollen from sucking, but yn ignores her. “watch,” she says without turning, bouncing harder, riding jeno like she owns him—and she does. “this is how you fuck him. not with your mouth, not with your hands. with your power.” she grabs jeno’s jaw, makes him look at her while she fucks herself on his cock like it’s the last thing she’ll ever do. “you like her mouth, baby?” she purrs. “you gonna come for her?” he shakes his head, moaning. “say it.” he gasps—“no, fuck, only you.” yn smirks. clenches. he nearly sobs. the other girl touches herself beside them, soaking wet and silent, and yn glances over just long enough to spit, “don’t even think about coming unless i tell you to.”

she leans in close, hair sticking to her cheeks, sweat dripping down her back, hips slamming down faster now, filthy and feral. jeno’s toes curl. his voice breaks. he’s mumbling her name over and over while his cock jerks inside her and his stomach flexes—he’s close, gone, finished—and yn locks eyes with the girl just as she starts to shake too. “you wanna finish?” yn snarls. “then watch me break him.” she slams down once, twice—jeno cries out—and comes deep, so deep, her pussy milks him through it, and she doesn't stop moving until he’s shaking, body limp, twitching beneath her, so overstimulated he can’t breathe. the girl comes too, on her fingers, soft and ruined, and yn just laughs, licking jeno’s sweat off her lip as she sits there, full of him, still throbbing.

“lesson’s over,” she whispers, hips still rolling, “but he’s not done yet.”

[nenonee]

promises never last masterlist ♡ | ljn x oc

「 SYNOPSIS 」 I always thought I knew you better than the back of my hand, but recently, I feel like I know nothing about you at all. For 5 years, I made myself believe meeting you was one of the biggest saving graces of my life and fighting for our friendship was worth every tear and sleepless night but at some point, I came to realize... I was tired. Tired of playing house when you're single. Tired of all the broken promises and repeated arguments every time you start dating someone new. Tired of comforting you every time your relationship goes to shits just as I had warned you but most of all, i'm tired of the ambiguity of this relationship we forced ourselves to believe was platonic.

「 PAIRING 」 lee jeno x female! reader [ kim soobin ]

「 CONTENT/GENRE 」

AU, angst, drama, slice of life, romance, questionable friendship dynamics, night life, suggestive, both characters are stubborn and emotionally constipated.

「 WARNINGS 」

will be listed in each update but general warning for drugs & alcohol consumption lots of it, explicit language, mentions of mental health, toxic dynamics, violence, miscommunications, trauma bonds, dark jokes.

「 STATUS 」 ongoing!

「 START DATE 」 30/04/2025

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A/N || Hey Everyone! you may have seen the teaser for this post a while back but I decided to hop back on to edit and finally take some time decide where I want this prompt to go as I have been in a writing mood recently and wanted to give this another go rather then just leaving it as a prompt. This series(?) will be mix of time stamps, chaptered one shots and drabbles of different periods of the relationship, the good, the bad and everything in between - whatever I can come up with really. I will organize each post in the correct timeline order on the masterlist in case anyone wants to read it in that order once there are more updates but I hope anyone who comes by enjoys and I am always open for feedback or to talk :) - Luna ☾.

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「 PRE-READ CONTENT 」

୨⎯ Kim Soobin ⎯୧

୨⎯ Lee Jeno ⎯୧ - Coming Soon❣

「 MAIN CONTENT 」

p.n.l || teaser

p.n.l || chapter i. : first meetings were never this easy || Coming Soon❣