#SHUT UP WHO THOUGHT THAT WAS SMART? FUCK YOU.

[myojinn]

Unveil Me - Sukuna Ryomen

☁︎ Unveil Me ... Multi-chapter fanfic Secret Agent!Sukuna Ryomen (JJK) x Secret Agent!AFAB Reader ☁︎ Tags: enemies to lovers, slow burn, secret agent! au, fluff, action : tw - lots of swearing and mentions of violence

☁︎ Summary: It’s basic Agent 101 not to trust anyone else. You know that and that’s why you always work alone. But what happens when another agent proposes a truce? You agree… but only if there are no strings attached. Can you both keep a promise? ☁︎ a/n: I’ve had this fic idea for a long time already and I finally got to do it. If this series flops then…oh well. Gonna stick to the one shots then T-T : 4k+ words // minors do not interact plz

Chapter 01 ; Words of Trust

Words went in one ear and out the other. 

Do they ever just… shut the fuck up?

You thought this meeting would go along without a hitch. But, oh, you were so wrong. You can’t have nice things in this fucking place. These morons made sure of that. Said morons were your fellow agents—people who should be supporting you. But rather than lifting you up, it’s like their life’s purpose to shit on you, especially in front of your boss. 

Truth be told, you expected it anyway. After all, you’re a woman in a male dominated field. Espionage? C’mon. You walked right into that one. But you were determined nonetheless. You knew you were capable. You were smart, adaptable, skilled—pretty much everything a secret agent should be. But most of all, you had no connections—nothing else to hold you down. You could live your life as a spy without any restrictions. 

You grew up with the familiar feeling of loneliness. The changing of the seasons were marked by a new orphanage after the other. Eventually, you didn’t bother with making friends anymore. What’s the point? They’ll be replaced in a few months anyway. Being cooped up to the side with a book was much better, so that’s what you did. It paid off in the end because when an uptight-looking man came to your orphanage looking for the brightest of the bunch—he chose you.

You figured he was a regular ol’ family man seeking out to help a child in need. Once the papers were all signed and everything was said and done—he brought you home. You had never been to a house as huge as this one. But despite the glamor of the life ahead of you, everything else was normal… at first. The man and his wife welcomed you with open arms. The three of you went out on picnics, ate dinner together, had family game nights in the living room—you know… the normal things normal families do.

But normalcy went right the fuck outta the window when one night he sat you down in the living room with a serious expression. This is it, you thought. They’re gonna get rid of me aren’t they? But I was such a good kid and I—

“Wanna be a spy, kid?”

Huh?

HUUUUUH?

Back then you thought he was messing with you like it was some sort of game. But then you realized everything that wasn’t normal about the family. He would always come home late at night or sometimes he’d have scary looking men over for brunch. His wife would pay no mind to any of it. She’d go about her life like her husband wasn’t doing anything suspicious. Sure, you were young, but that didn’t mean you were stupid.

Reality was that he was the boss of a hotshot spy agency. Now he wants this child that he adopted to be his little project. The idea of becoming an agent was alluring to a child. And, in hindsight, the old geezer definitely used that to his advantage. The way you practically shouted ‘yes’ almost immediately was proof of that.

You say ‘project’ because after you agreed to it—the sense of having a family vanished. He programmed you into thinking that he simply recruited you. Under the law, you were his child. But in your heart, you were just another pawn in his collection. Rather than developing a loving father-child relationship, you had what any boss and employee had. You respected each other, that much is true. And you even admire the man for his abilities. And that was that.

Regardless if you were tricked or not, you’ve come to love your job. The thrill of a good fight would never fail to captivate you. Even though some missions were considerably difficult, you loved your work for all its challenges.

You love it… sooo much. 

You repeated that thought at least 20 times in the last minute. You truly needed some convincing right now ‘cuz some fuckers here are really testing your resolve. 

I love my job and my job includes respecting my colleagues and not pulling their windpipe out with my bare hands… you thought.

“With all due respect, Mr. Nanami, I can’t just accept you sending her out for this important mission just because she’s the former boss’ kid.”

Alright, that’s it. He can consider his windpipe gone. No one brings up your relationship with the old boss and thinks they can get away with it. You grip the armrests of the chair tightly, preparing to stand up and beat this guy up. But Nanami gestured for you to stay put. You huffed out and leaned back, letting him take care of things again.

After a certain tragedy, the agency had to seek new leadership. As his adopted kid, the one he trained since childhood, you should’ve been the one next in line, right? 

LOUD INCORRECT BUZZER SOUND. Wrong. Absolutely wrong.

The agency would lose credibility if a woman ran it apparently. And it would just be worse because then people would think it’s another case of nepotism. Oh well. Not like it mattered that much to you. Nanami did a hell of a good job running the place anyway. And it made you feel amazing that he did a way better job than your old man could ever do. 

As you can tell—you have a strange relationship with the man who used to run this place, the same man you’re supposed to call dad.

Nanami sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Her being assigned this mission has nothing to do with her being related to the former boss. How many times must I reiterate this?” But everytime Nanami tries to quell their (unvalidated) thoughts. Another wave of (awful) discussion happens about how you’ll fuck everything up and yada yada. 

“Just because she did a couple of jobs doesn’t mean she can do this one.” “Exactly! This is extremely important. What will happen to the agency if she fails?” “Just make her do some shitty honeypot mission. That’s all she’s good for.”

This time you were sure that you’d knock the living shit outta this bastard. Even Nanami won’t stop you now. But alas, a booming voice from the back of the room made his presence known. You grumbled and sat back down as Toji spoke up.

“All you shitheads ever do is complan, don’t ya? Do any of you even have the balls to do this mission? I’m sure as hell none of ya have it.”

All of them suddenly fell quiet. Nanami was the boss, but Toji surely had an aura to him. He was the top agent of the firm. Any mission assigned to him was as good as done—he was just that good. Normally, you’d be pissed that someone is outdoing you, but not him. You respected him and he respected you back… somewhat.

He never attended meetings, but for some reason he was here today. He swaggered over to where everyone else was gathered. His big hand gripped the back of the chair you were sitting on and he lowered himself to face you. His scent was strong, but pleasant. He had a lazy smirk on his face and it irked you. “You can do it though, right, princess?” 

You scowled at him. You hated it when he called you ‘princess’. It always felt condescending, but you couldn’t do anything because he decided this is what he’d call you ever since the first time he met you.

“Of course I can,” you spat back. He pulls away and flashes his shit-eating grin to everyone in the room. “Well, ya heard the lady. She says she can do it. Why not let her have it?”

This is why you think he somewhat respected you. Well, respect was a bold term to describe it, but hey, you were thankful he stood up for you. 

The men grumbled. Now that both Nanami and Toji were against them, their balls just magically shriveled up. There was no way they could argue with you now. 

So, case closed. You win. You get the mission and you can rub that fact in their sorry ass faces. You start to love doing your job again.

And that only lasted for a while.

Suddenly you hated this piece of shit life and this piece of shit job when you found yourself seeking shelter from the rain in an old telephone booth miles and miles away from home. You angrily held your burner phone to your ear, trying to make sense of the choppy audio of some random fucker from the intel division.

“Don’t you fucking hang up on me! I don’t care if the signal is shit—you’re gonna fucking talk to me right now!”

No matter how loud you mouthed off this guy’s ear through the phone, you still couldn’t understand a thing he was saying. You just hung up out of frustration and started slamming your fist against the musty wall of the booth. 

FUCK.

Everything just went wrong. So so wrong.

First, they made you fly economy. Not that you minded economy… that is if you were on a trip to the fucking Bahamas. But this isn’t Bahamas and you’re not here to fuck around. You’re here on an important mission so you expect to get to borrow the agency’s jet at least. But noooo, the execs think you’ll do just fine.

Second, the airline decided it was a good day to lose your luggage. You waited for an hour at the carousel, praying that the next boring gray travel bag would be yours. But it never came. You saw red when one of the attendants told you they MIGHT have lost it.

At that point, what you were really losing was your will to live.

Lastly, since everything else blew up in your face, you lost track of time and now communications is shit. You missed the car that was supposed to pick you up and bring you to where you’d be staying for the duration of the mission. You had even managed to get caught up in the heaviest fucking rain you’ve ever experienced in what you swear is the world’s grimiest telephone booth.

Fuck this. Fuck life. 

You slowly slumped against the wall and slid down, not caring if this ancient piece of shit had bacteria that could eat your skin off. Actually, the damn bacteria can go ahead and eat you. Nothing matters anymore. All you wanted to do was wither and let the rain wash you away. Forever gone… forever lost.

...

...

NO. SHUT UP. GET YOUR SHIT TOGETHER.

You slapped yourself with both of your hands, making sure it would leave a mark on your face. This isn’t how you should be acting right now. You’re an agent for crying out loud. Things are supposed to be hard and it’s your job to overcome it. 

You felt a little embarrassed from that mini meltdown, but you now have a newfound resolve to move on and prove those idiots back at the agency wrong. You had to succeed. Even if your life depended on it. 

You soldiered on through the rain and found a taxi. You thought you had a good grasp of the local language, but you were dead wrong when the taxi driver started speaking in what sounded like moon runes. So he dropped you off in God knows where and left you to your own devices. Like literally. You had to use the shitty burner phone they gave you and the shitty maps app that it had on it.

Somehow you managed to arrive at the inn you’d be staying at. You looked like a wet piece of cardboard limping through the entrance and into your room, but at least you were alive. Now that you had a steady signal, you tried contacting the agency again. Not the dumbasses at intel though—you called Nanami instead. You explained to him what happened with your luggage and how you were lagging behind schedule.

“Look… I know it’s been fuck up after another, but I promise I’ll get back on track.”

You hear him sigh on the other end of the call. And you completely understand if he was disappointed. He did fight for you to be on this mission and this is what he got in return. “It’s alright,” he reassured, “I know you’ll bounce back. You always do.”

His voice was gruff, but comforting. You breathed a little easier.

“I’ll have them bring you some stuff by tomorrow. Just let me know if you need anything else. Is the inn okay?”

You told him that it was fine. It was no 5-star experience, but this was better than any musty telephone booth. You two talked for a while about your experiences for today. You earned a chuckle or two from him. And maybe a conversation with Nanami was enough to ignite your spirit again. 

Nanami’s one hell of a drug—considering that his pep talk gave you the strength to venture out of your inn at 2 in the morning to scope out the scene. The scene being the grand mansion of the man you were tasked to spy on. This should've been on day 2 of your itinerary, but you had enough disappointments in this mission already.

Better to take initiative now than later, you thought.

Essentially, all you had to do was keep tabs on this particular man. The man in question hides under the alias, Kenny. Putting it like that makes the task sound easy, but unfortunately for you—Kenny is excellent at covering up his tracks. Not much is known about him even in the underground.

So... what's so important about Kenny?

It's because he has a MAJOR vendetta against your agency. Major as in... he'd probably do just about anything to see it crash and burn. There was a mission in the past which your agency carried out (successfully) which effectively wiped out one of his illegal operations and almost got him in the slammer. Suffice to say he wasn't happy.

Oh... and he may have also killed your former boss... A.K.A your dad.

So, yeeeah. Pretty fucking important mission.

You needed the intel to finally put him away for good. After reading up on all suspected crimes, you wanted nothing more than to make this man face the consequences of his actions.

You may not have loved your father the way you should have, but at the very least, you wanted revenge for him. Up to this day, it still brings a stinging sensation to your heart when you think about how easily they dismissed his murder case just because it was all 'circumstantial evidence'.

REVENGE—was painted in big, bold, red letters on the back of your mind. But at the same time, a part of you knew that there was no way you could kill another man. Sure, you've had your fair share of 'forceful' interrogations, but you've never really gone so far as to take a life of another.

An image of the former boss would sometimes pop in your head. "Don't bite off more than you can chew, kid," he'd remind you—almost constantly. And maybe that applies to your situation now. You know you can't kill him. You know that all you can do by yourself is to collect information—typical espionage things that you were used to.

But, man, it sure would feel great to get the revenge you really want.

You saunter around the estate with your binoculars, hidden behind the rose bushes. You peered through the many windows from afar, trying to find any kind of activity going on. You can’t find the man, but you do see his henchmen all over the place. You made sure to keep mental notes like how many exits there are, how many men are stationed in each place, and how fucking insane this mansion is. You think one infinity pool is enough, but 4? That’s just absurd—definitely compensating for something.

You were so caught up in your recon that you were taken aback when you heard the slightest rustle of leaves behind you. But before you could completely react, a large palm covered your mouth and a strong arm snaked around your body to keep you in place. You thrashed around like a fish out of water, but the assailant’s grip was strong—too fucking strong.

You continued to struggle and gained enough leverage to lift your leg and slam it back right in his family jewels. He stumbled backwards a bit with a groan. You swiftly turned to face the unknown person, ready to retaliate. But upon facing each other, you were both put to a halt.

The assailant in question was a tall man of muscular build. He had a messy undercut, pink spiky tufts with black hair beneath it. He had an intimidating look on his face. Add to that the bold black tattooed lines around his arms. You just knew… he was trouble.

You pulled out your gun and pointed it at his chest.

“Woah woah, slow down, lady,” he says in a low voice. “You a cop or somethin’?”

You were on the good side, of course. You were taking down a detestable man, after all. But it annoyed you to be compared to a cop. You were a fucking secret agent. Emphasis on secret and agent. “A cop?” you asked, eyebrow raised, gun still pointed at him. Even though you wanted so badly to tell him that you’re not just some cop, it was basic agent 101 to not talk about your identity to anyone AT ALL.

“Jeez, you look so offended. I take it you’re not a cop then?” He laughs. The laughter comes deep from within his chest. He seemed oddly calm with a loaded gun pointed at him. He calms down and fixes his gaze on you again. “Well, whatever you are—I won’t let you stop me from killing that man.” Your eyes widen at his declaration. You slowly lowered your gun and as you did, his smile widened. “You’re here for the same reason, aren't you? You’re quite easy to read.”

Now you regret ever lowering your gun on this cocky dipshit. “Who are you?”

He took a few steps closer to you, but you didn’t fall back. You stood your ground and looked up into his red burning eyes. If he thinks he can scare you off, well, he’s dead wrong.

“Name’s Sukuna. And you?” “I don’t care about your name. I’m asking who the hell you are.”

He knew what you were implying, but clearly, he found it funny to toy with you. “Let’s just say we have the same goal, yeah? To get that little jerk living happily down in that mansion?” He says while pointing over at the mansion in the distance. The way your sight followed his finger with a look of contempt practically confirmed his suspicions.

“So I told you my name—what’s yours?”

You gave him an uninterested look. Does he really just give out information this easily? If so, he chose the wrong line of work. “I don’t owe you anything.” He grins and imitates the sound of a fire going out to feign hurt. “After I made myself vulnerable like that? How cruel of you…” He laughed a bit through his nose and backed off a step. “How about I make a proposition?”

“Like hell I’d make a deal with y—”

He placed a stubby finger on your lips to shut you up. “Trust me. You’ll want to hear this,” he says with bravado. You slap his hand away and stare daggers at him. “Seeing as how we might become potential competition for each other and potentially derail each other’s jobs… how about we work together instead?”

“You’re out of your fucking mind if you think I’m gon—”

This time he flicked your forehead. “You don’t shut up, do you?”

First of all, ouch. Second, THE AUDACITY? He could care less about what you had to say. He stared at you for an uncomfortable amount of time. It was like he was studying you, taking in every feature so that he may ingrain into his brain. You instinctively look away—now's not the time for some rando to memorize what you look like. That's just dangerous.

A wide grin spread across his face. "You don't look like someone who kills."

You glared at him. He was right, of course. But he made it seem as if it was something to look down upon. "Who said I killed people anyway?"

"Definitely not that gun your holding," he muses. "You pulled it out so quickly like you wanted to hurt me," he says, getting closer to you again.

"But you never thought to remove the safety hm?"

That got you quiet. True. The gun was mostly an intimidation tactic. You would've resorted to other measures before shooting him dead if needed be. God. You hated how he was so right about you.

He chuckles at your silence. "I guess we're not here for the same reason then?"

You could only turn to look away to the side. Somehow, this felt incredibly embarrassing—like an older bully taunting a small kid.

“So, you’re faced with a dilemma, aren’t you? Am I right or am I right?" He asked, practically shoving his face into your personal space. Though, you didn't budge an inch.

You hated that he was right. Maybe he was good at his job. That or he should've considered fortune telling at those shitty carnivals.

“Let’s say that you are, but what exactly does us ‘working together’ bring to the table?”

“Good question,” he says before flashing a menacing grin. "You see, you have something I don't and I have something that you don't," he explains. Your jaw falls slack at the vague explanation. He notices this and takes it as a sign to continue.

"Since it seems like you're from a fancy agency—I take it that you have the necessary equipment to gather intel on this guy, yeah? Where I'm from... let's just say we're not as blessed." He pauses and sighs, still with a slight smile remaining on his face. "Though, I am blessed with the power to kill this guy. No high-tech bullshit needed." This cocky piece of…

“What makes you think that you could even get anywhere near the guy?”

He laughed again. This time not out of amusement, but definitely out of arrogance. “Baby, I’m just that strong.”

You continued to give him that uninterested look. But you gave it some thought. It really did seem like a win-win situation, except for the fact that you will have to put some insane amount of trust into this guy. Even you don’t trust yourself THAT much.

As you pondered about it, your gaze never left him. You took in every little detail of this man called ‘Sukuna’. He probably realized your doubts as he made his way back into your proximity. His large hand came dangerously close to your face and his fingers gently held your chin. He forced you to look at him and his stupid smirk.

“What do I have to do to earn your trust? Hm? Tell me.” His voice was smooth… tempting. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t make you weak in the knees. 

You gulped. The solution to your internal conflict has appeared. It was right here, in the form of an aggravating man. All you had to do was say yes. You reasoned that—you didn’t necessarily have to work WITH him. You could use him instead. Set your boundaries, play the game, and reap your earnings. And above all, there was no need to put yourself at more risk.

Doesn’t sound so bad, right?

You gripped the wrist of the hand that held your chin and looked him dead in the eye. “Fine. I’ll work with you under one condition…”

...

“Everything is purely just work—absolutely no strings attached.”

Neither of you had to know things about each other and neither of you had the obligation to save each other's asses if it wasn't a threat to your shared goal. Work will just be work. Strictly.

Then you saw that wicked smile again. The same smile that tempted you, bewitched you.

“Consider it a done deal, baby.”

Likes, reblogs, and feedback would be appreciated <3

Interested in part 2? T_T

#sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #jjk sukuna #jjk x you #jjk x reader #sukuna ryomen #sukuna fluff #sukuna au #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen fluff #Unveil Me #myoji writes

[jennrypan]

"Marinette is forgiving"

Yes, but not towards the two 14 year old assholes. But specifically forgiving to the.

Asshole that gave Hawkmoth all the miraculous, and then. Hawkmoth himself because?? Poor little man lost his wifey and he was oh sooo sad about it he had to terrorize all of Paris.

No yeah, definitely deserving of forgiveness.

I WONT SHUT UP ABOUT THIS PLOT POINT UNTIL ITS CHANGED IDC

You will NEVER convince me that Gabriel fucking Agreste or even fucking Felix are more deserving of forgiveness than Chloe and Lila.

I dont wanna hear SHIT.

#j.p speaks #mlb salt #i like marinette (to an extent) BUT YALL CANT DENY THIS IS STUPID AS FUCK. #and if yall can bash and salt on Chloe and Lila for writer decisions. #then so can I. but im not salting on Marinette just pointing out actually canon shit that makes no sense #its all about 'these girls dont deserve a second chance!!' #'but gabriel does!!' #SHUT UP WHO THOUGHT THAT WAS SMART? FUCK YOU. #miraculous ladybug #ml leaks #ml writing salt

[solarisposting]

screaming myself hoarse til I pass out we were together during a very tumultuous time in our lives I will always have your back and be curious about you about your career your whereabouts!!!

#not about j we're good - about the friend who i haven't shut up about in the 14 years i've been on the hellsite #the fun part is that i know his forever career and his forever whereabouts and it will break my heart into shards for the rest of my life! #and goddamnit we weren't romantically together but instead together as part of a weirdly codependent friend group of four and we were #near identically weird and fucked up emotionally and in our humor and how we spoke and how we meshed and i will NEVER fucking get over it!! #i'm still agog that i sent you a last chance hail mary sort of letter like the lyrics in this song about how i think about you often and #have always believed in you and been rooting for you like all the rest of us who knew you before things got really bad because you were and #are such a fucking incredible person and musician and friend and so smart and creative and LOVABLE! i said that in the letter without #realizing alanis said that in one of THE best lost love songs of all goddamn time! #i wish i could tell you one more time - right now today immediately or better yet five years ago - how i have always loved and admired you #and everything about you. even now. all the way out here in iowa i am still loving you with everything i have in me every single day #knowing i will never speak to or see you again [i think about you all the time but i don't need the same] and i finally started to admit #that to myself and my friends and my therapist in 2021 and i'm more at peace with it than i ever was or thought i could be in 2019 and 2020 #but i know it's gonna take my whole lifetime to get a grip on it and accept it. and it'll stop hurting one of these days. i know it will #i don't think i've ever loved a friend as much as I loved you. i think you were the best friend i've ever had #and that's one of the nastiest parts of it - we were good friends and you did seem to like me plenty #but i think i was the w-h-auden_morelovingone.txt by a mile. i was a weird obsessed stage 10 clinger. #and that's surely a large part of the dwelling and the fixation. if things had been more equal then maybe it'd be very different now. #guess i'll die because i sure ain't finding out!! #HELLO LOVES HAVE SOME RICH NUTRITIOUS ANNIE LORE ON THIS FINE FREEZING COLD SUNDAY AFTERNOON! #ann with an ie #<- this was a nightmare to type out and feel but i wanna keep it around for whenever i get the balls to talk about it in therapy again

[simpjaes]

BIG D*CK FOR DUMMIES (s.jy)

The one where you find out that your boyfriend has a huge cock and you’re not entirely sure if you can take all of it. 

MDNI!!! | pls leave feedback and reblog your fave writers!

PAIRING ― jaeyun x afab reader  

WORDCOUNT ― 2.4k

CONTENT ―  first time, established relationship, top jaeyun, painful sex

NOTE ― this was originally written for a different idol on my other blog [ncteez] but i pictured jake in that one en o’clock episode doing this and went feral so……here’s ur giant package. 

smut tags― he’s a little cocky (lmao), i guess you could say size kink but it’s more like huge cock / tiny pussy size kink, theres some crying, praising, reader gets off like almost instantly and becomes incredibly cock drunk the second he’s able to actually fuck

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Things you knew about your boyfriend before dating: he’s very protective, super smart, has good taste in music, his hands are big and warm, and he’s very down to earth.

Things you didn’t know about your boyfriend until after dating and he’s on top of you during a moody and rainy night makeout session: his cock is huge and it’s very intimidating.

One might ask, how could you have not known? Well, that’s easy. It’s a fairly new relationship and a very shy relationship at that. It’s a bit embarrassing for you, actually, because it’s not like you don’t want to be intimate with him. You definitely do, and apparently so does he. 

It’s the first time in the three weeks you’ve been dating that you’ve gotten to be completely alone with him in an intimate setting. For one, you live with your parents, and secondly, he lives with three other dudes who like to be all up in his business. It’s not exactly easy to get alone time with him. Thankfully, your parents are out on a five-day holiday somewhere in the Bahamas and you’re here on your family couch with Jaeyun’s hands cradling your neck as you kiss him. 

It got heated very fast, presumably because the two of you haven’t really had the privacy to do more than a standing makeout session without someone listening in, or worse, walking in. It almost makes the air feel electric now, kind of like a breath of fresh air except the fresh air tastes like the fruity chewing gum he had in his mouth when he originally came over.

Here’s the thing though, and man, it’s a thing. Looking at Jaeyun you’d think he’s average at best and you’re not really the type to go around guessing dick sizes.  So, naturally, when he slots a leg between yours as he got on top of you and you fucking felt it against your leg, you were a little more shocked than anticipated. Maybe he let out a little snide chuckle at your reaction too, you wouldn’t know, you were kind of busy wondering when he was going to let you in on the secret. 

Now, here you are deep in thought of how the hell that thing is going to fit anywhere while simultaneously one hundred percent willing to make it fit because god, does he know how to makeout and feel someone up. 

The more he kisses you, the more his hands roam, the more you experience intimate touches with him, the more you feel like your skin is on fire and replacing that intimidation with extreme arousal and lust. All the way until the point that the presumed makeout playlist starts over and he finally pushes a bit further with you.

“Is this okay?” He asks, now slotting himself entirely between your legs and essentially pressing his length directly against the pool that is threatening to seep through your fucking denim shorts. 

You give him a half nod, trying to pretend that he’s definitely a normal man with a normal cock. He smiles though, knowing full well that this isn’t what you were expecting. No one ever expects it from him. 

“You seem occupied,” he comments, pressing himself against you a little more and leaning down on his arms to nip at your lips. “or shocked, maybe?”

You try to kiss him to shut him up, not wanting to expose yourself for being entirely inexperienced with a size like his. 

“Hm?” He encourages you, pulling back again and looking directly into your eyes with a confident smirk. 

“Well,” you shift your eyes away and sigh out, “you’re kind of huge…” 

He takes that compliment and runs with it. It’s not like the two of you have to finally have sex or anything, but you both knew what was happening and you both definitely knew what the other wanted. At least ten minutes ago that was the situation.

“Is it too much?” He asks, this time a bit more concerned that his own biology could ruin this for you. 

“Probably? no, maybe?” 

Jaeyun pulls away from you, moving himself to sit back against the couch and give you your space. Considering probably and maybe isn’t a yes, he feels no need to push or pressure you into doing something you don’t want to do. There have been times where he’s hurt another person while being intimate, though not intentionally, he’s not exactly willing to do that to you unless you’re like, you know, jumping his bones for it. 

“Still, i’d like to try–” You start, looking at him as you sit up and feel your entire body tingle at the cold air that replaces his warmth. “Maybe if we take it slow– like, really slow?”

He looks at you with shining eyes. He asked you to be his girlfriend because he genuinely likes you. He likes your voice, he likes the way you smell, likes when you talk about your favorite songs and favorite movies. He was definitely smitten from the moment he saw you trip on your own two feet down the front porch of a house party months ago. Taking it slow with you was pretty normal, and the fact that you want him too just makes him all the more willing to take his time. 

“I’ll take care of you, ” he hums, spreading his legs a bit across the couch to give himself more space to re-adjust himself. “Just tell me if I need to slow down?” 

You nod, staring directly between his legs and rubbing your own together on instinct. If anyone’s gonna split you open, it might as well be your boyfriend.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

When he said he would take it slow with you, he really meant it. The fact that he curled three fingers into you for a solid twenty minutes and you still feel like your legs will buckle on you at any moment knowing that this is just for prep– oh damn. 

 The fact that he even used his tongue on you for the first time, making sure you were more slippery than you already were for another twenty minutes? The fucking fact that you were on the verge of orgasm when he pulled it out and presented it to you like a cock you could totally sit on without issue? 

Fuck.

Reality washes over you far too quickly when you actually make that attempt. 

You’d be lying if you said it didn’t feel like you were being torn apart by him, but part of you loves the way his gentle hands hold you steady as you try to sink down. You can feel the wet heat between your legs coat his length inch by inch as you start to slide down.

He stops you only for a moment when he notices you wincing. 

“Breathe, baby, just a little more.” He encourages, getting a nod from you before guiding you down further.

You breathe, clenching around him and doing your best to stop doing that so you can relax. You can tell he’s struggling to actually take it slow by now too, only because you can feel his hands shake against you as he holds himself back from obliterating you, probably. You’d think it would be quite endearing to see, if it weren’t for the fact that your eyes are blurring from the tears threatening to fall. 

Feeling embarrassed, you wipe your eyes and focus on how he feels inside of you. The pain is still there, but as you “sit” here, that pain somehow does replace itself with a strange sensation of pleasure little by little. You’ve always wondered what it felt like to be full, and it appears that this is exactly it.

It’s overwhelming.

“Do you want to stop?” He asks after noticing your tears, a bit of panic in his voice despite the fact that you could have sworn hearing a moan come out alongside it, “Pull up, it’s okay, you can–”

You sink down further instead, now bottoming yourself out on him and releasing a broken whine of both pain and pleasure. He grunts in unison to your whine, gripping your hips even harder than he already was and squeezing his eyes shut. 

“Fuck,” he sighs out, lazily opening his eyes to look at the way you perch yourself on him so perfectly. “Such a tight fit.” 

You nod, mostly unable to hear a word he’s saying as you try to relax your body enough to get rid of that small hint of pain. The consistent clenching of your adjustments send your boyfriend spiraling a bit, unable to contain his sighs of pleasure as your tight and wet heat squeezes his cock.

“Tell me when I can move, please, tell me–” He groans out almost frantically, staring down at where you sit flush against him and wanting so badly to fuck into you.

 He’s wanted to do this to you since you started dating, now that it’s finally happening, and now that you’re quite literally jerking him off simply by adjusting to his size– you know, it’s not exactly easy to contain himself. 

You take a few more seconds to breathe before your body finally relaxes and you give him a reluctant nod. 

Instantly it’s like you’re seeing stars. He barely moves, all he does is flex his abs and press his hips up and it’s like he manages to fit another non-existent inch inside of you. 

You groan out, falling forward against his chest and gripping onto his shoulders as you feel your body adjust to even that small movement. To you, this is so fucking embarrassing, but to him? 

Hottest thing ever. Really. 

He can hear your whiny gasps against his neck when he moves and it’s driving him fucking wild, especially considering the fact that his cock is driven so deeply inside of you that he thinks you’d tell him to stop— but you don’t. 

You’re so good to him, and for what it’s worth, he wants to make sure this will be the best orgasm of your life.

Slowly, his hands fall to your ass and guide you up. You feel slight relief as a few inches leave you, and your stomach bubbles with that same sensation of both pleasure and pain when he slides you back down.

He moans out at you, almost like he’s cooing in pity at how much you’re trying to take for him. It’s incredibly sexy to hear now that your ears have stopped ringing and you’re beginning to believe that you’d never want anything smaller than him anyway.

This time, you lift on your own and sink back down just as fast, wincing again against his neck but releasing a moan that sounds more like pleasure than anything else. He sees this as a green light, gripping your ass and encouraging you to lift slightly again.

“Stay like this.” he mutters with a deep breath before kissing against your forehead and thrusting his hips up once, hard. 

The tight heat you’re offering sends him into a frenzy when paired with the wet slap of his pelvis hitting your pussy, and the sounds you’re making offer little in terms of stopping because by now, you’re both loving it. 

He thrusts into you with ease, the drag loud and slippery, the moans of pleasure you release only make him go faster, harder. Almost releasing a whimper of his own at how fucking perfect you are for taking all of it.

“Look.” he tries to let out, waiting for you to pull yourself up from his chest and look at him.

You do with ease, that broken face from before now replaced with lustful and blown out pupils. 

“Look how good you take it,” he praises with a groan, almost punctuating each word with a thrust, “knew you could take it.” 

Your broken smile that falls into a slack mouthed string of nonsense only continues to push him.  All the way until you can’t think straight at all, and you’re feeling your body tense up with such pressure that you can’t even warn him before your walls are clenching so tightly that it even hurts him. 

You grasp onto him for dear life as your orgasm washes over you, drenching his entire length as you hold your breath. Never have you gotten off while feeling so fucking full, and arguably, you don’t think you could ever feel an orgasm so intense without him being the one to split you open.

“There you go baby.” he hums, watching you breathlessly fall apart on top of him before picking up his rhythm again and chasing his own high.

By this point, you’re so well adjusted that even the searing pain of his restless thrusts feel good. Your brain is foggy but you can’t help but just fucking watch him.

This is your boyfriend and this is what it looks like when you’re making him feel good. 

“Are you close?” you start to bounce on him, meeting his rhythm and allowing him to rest his own hips. 

He nods as he looks at you, awestruck with how you’re already able to ride him as if you weren’t whining just moments before. Seeing you take him in full like this is enough to have his cock pulsing.

“Just a bit more, baby.” He closes his eyes and runs his hands up your waist. “Keep riding me, fuck.” 

And that, you do. Feeling proud of yourself for being able to actually take this literal monster, you focus on the twitch inside of you as he releases with a deep and breathy moan.

It’s entirely too sexy to ignore, and you continue to bounce even as he tries to hold you in place to subdue the sensitivity of his cock being fucking strangled by how tight you are. 

Once his body stops jerking and you feel the last twitching release inside of you, you fall forward and both of you groan from the sensitivity. 

“There are pros and cons to having a big dick, i guess.” he admits in a groan. 

Even when you laugh, there’s another wince from both of you followed by a groan.

“Pros: big dick.” he whispers, holding you still against him so you don’t move again before he can soften up and pull out. “Cons: big dick.” 

You still laugh, and it still hurts. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

me and my lame ass endings lmfaooooooooooooooooo

#enhypen smut #jake smut #jaeyun smut #enha smut #sim jake smut #sim jaeyun smut #jake sim smut

[leejenowrld]

in your eyes — part 1

word count — 34.5k words

genre — smut, fluff, angst

pairing — lee jeno x reader

part 1 — part 2

synopsis — campus life was just a series of fleeting connections until he found you. now, it’s you who he can’t forget, it’s you he wants to be known for, it’s you he wants to belong to.

chapter contents — explicit sexual content, rough sex, dirty talk, spanking, biting, breath play consensual choking, consensual slapping, orgasm denial/control, praise kink, dirty talk, oral sex (giving and receiving), fingering, very hard dom!jeno, sub!reader, consistent unprotected sex (be safe!), use of ‘baby’ and ‘good girl’, grinding, reader rides jeno, exhibitionism, intense emotional dynamics, strong language, and explicit content, explicit language, swearing, mention of drugs, smoking, alcohol, a lot of college party scenes, oc is uninterested in jeno at first but he changes that (and quickly!), mentions of fuckboy!jeno, initially fucks her roommate, but falls in love with yn’s stuff that’s around the apartment, himym!scene inspo, if you know you know, oc is a hot bassist in a band, jeno sees her play, gets hard and turned on seeing her play the strings with her fingers, imagines touching her, jeno and oc unexpectedly have the exact same matching tattoo, so many girl moments, kpop ‘00 liners, nct ‘00 line, sunwoo, eric, yeji and oc are in a band, inappropriate, mature humor, jeno is very forward, very confident, very daring, very self assured and dominant, arin causes a lot of trouble, jeno makes reader very shy and flustered, intimidating jeno, sweetheart jeno, emotional moments, appearance from nct foreign swagger line, jeno takes reader home, boyfriend jeno (kinda), watch as jeno and oc fall in love, jeno always touching reader under her skirt lmao, smut text portion, so much angst and pain, heartbreak

authors note — happy birthday lee jeno <3 i love you. please interact and leave an ask or message mwah. also there will be a part 2 to this, the last part, which will be out asap. it was all initially going to be one fic but it was too long and tumblr didn't allow it so i had to split it up. also thank you my bae @jenolala for helping me with ideas and being my personal reader i love you

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Lee Jeno was the bane of your existence.

The University’s study lounge buzzes with the sound of students shuffling in their seats, flipping through textbooks, and tapping away on their laptops. But for you, the noise fades into the background as your thoughts are consumed by one person: Lee Jeno. He's become the bane of your existence, infiltrating your mind at every turn.

You try to focus on your studies, desperately attempting to absorb the intricacies of musical composition and sound design. But you can't do anything, you can’t focus on your assignments, eat, drink or work on your laptop without thinking of him. Every time you open your textbook, his face flashes before your eyes, distracting you from the task at hand. It's infuriating how effortlessly he invades your thoughts against your own will.

Nayoung’s infatuation with Jeno has reached insufferable levels ever since they started hooking up. It's all she ever talks about, as if he's some kind of God among men. But for you, he's just another distraction, a nuisance that refuses to leave you alone. Since they started hooking up, she's been relentless, unable to shut up about their sexual exploits. He couldn’t be that good…

Lee Jeno was the craze around campus, and he had always been. He was apparently good in bed, a phenomenal lover with a big cock, smart, hot, handsome, and knew how to fuck and treat a girl right. He was social and friendly, outgoing, and everyone knew who he was and everyone loved him. But not you though. For you, it’s all just noise. You’re simply not interested in him.

You try to tune out Nayoung’s incessant chatter, but her voice cuts through the air like a knife. "Shut up, shut up!" she exclaims, slapping your hands hastily and pulling you from your thoughts. You pout in frustration, resisting the urge to snap at her.

“I'm not even talking...” you mutter under your breath, huffing in exasperation as you shut your laptop screen down. It's futile to even attempt to get any work done with Jeno constantly looming in your mind, taunting you with his presence.

“He's here... He's here! Fuck, he's walking my way and staring at me,” Nayoung’s flustered words fill the air as she nervously adjusts her hair, throwing quick glances toward the entrance. You can't help but shake your head at her worry. There's no need for her to fret or make last-minute adjustments— Nayoung is effortlessly attractive, her beauty undeniable and her personality sweetly infectious. She has this casual, confident vibe that's undeniably sexy. It's clear why everyone seems to be wrapped around her little finger.

Then there's Lee Jeno, making his entrance as if it's the most natural thing in the world to draw every eye in the room. He walks with a confidence that borders on arrogance, an aura around him that's almost too intense. He seems to claim every space he steps into as his own, and today, the cafeteria turns into his domain.

He makes his way over and takes the seat right beside you, as if that spot had been waiting just for him. As he settles in, you find yourself involuntarily gulping a bit, suddenly all too aware of the intensity of his presence. It's undeniable, the aura he carries; a blend of confidence and an almost tangible allure fills the space, charging the air around you. The whole place falls into a hush, the kind of silence that screams of everyone's rapt attention on him, and inevitably, on you by association.

As you catch sight of Jeno turning his gaze towards Nayoung, your eyes roll almost instinctively. He reaches out, taking her hand with a gentleness that contradicts his commanding presence, his lips brushing against her skin in a soft kiss. Nayoung’s reaction is immediate; she gulps, visibly struggling to maintain composure, taken aback by the tenderness of his touch.

It's a moment that, despite your usual disinterest, makes you understand just a fraction of the allure that Lee Jeno carries with him. He's a presence that's hard to ignore, drawing you into his orbit whether you're willing or not.

“We still on for tonight, baby?” Jeno's voice sends a shiver down your spine, momentarily silencing the room. Nayoung is completely captivated by him, lost in her own world, unable to form a proper response. But when you nudge her foot with yours, she coughs and says,

“Yes, I'll be waiting for you.” Her voice is low and sultry, a hint of anticipation laced in her words. "In my bed, all alone, with no clothes on," she continues, biting her lip seductively as she tilts her head and winks at him. “I'll be yours to play with all night long.”Her gaze smolders with desire as she waits for his reaction, teasing him with the promise of what's to come.

Sitting beside you, Lee Jeno has the kind of presence that's impossible to ignore. From what you've heard, the stories that swirl around campus, he's the quintessential heartbreaker - popular, with an air of cockiness that he wears as comfortably as the clothes on his back. He’s dressed casually today, yet every piece seems carefully chosen to accentuate his athletic build—a testament to his dedication as a football player. His fitted t-shirt clings in all the right places, paired with jeans that manage to be both casual and unmistakably deliberate in their fit. His hair, a perfect shade that catches the light, is styled in a seemingly effortless manner, falling just so to frame his striking features.

Jeno’s face is a canvas of attractive contrasts; sharp jawlines meet soft, inviting lips, and his eyes, deep and expressive, hold a hint of mischief. There’s a natural symmetry to his features that’s compelling, drawing you in despite any reservations. The easy smirk that often plays across his lips suggests a man who knows his allure and isn’t afraid to use it to his advantage.

But it's not just his looks that have earned him his reputation. He's known to be overconfident. His charm is scandalous, wielded with the precision of someone who knows just how impactful they are. He's the epitome of a fuckboy, leaving a trail of whispers and rumors in his wake.

Yet, despite the warnings, the stories of hearts left in his path, there's something undeniably captivating about him. He's social, able to navigate any conversation with ease, drawing people in with a magnetism that's hard to resist. And fucking handsome? Absolutely. There's a reason every glance he throws seems to linger, every smile feels like it's meant just for the receiver. It's this mix of danger and allure that makes him an enigma.

Your thoughts are abruptly interrupted when you catch Jeno and Nayoung exchanging glances so intense, they could only be described as eye fucking. And you're almost certain he's touching her under the table. Casting a discreet glance their way, disbelief washes over you. Their boldness in such a public setting is startling—where's the sense of privacy, the modesty? It's a display that leaves you questioning the very notions of discretion and boundaries in social interactions.

You assumed your silent judgment would go unnoticed, as usual. Being invisible had its perks; it let you navigate these social seas undisturbed, a mode of survival that had become your comfort zone. Yet, just as you side-eye the intimate display between Jeno and Nayoung, Donghyuck catches your gaze. With a wink, he throws a comment your way, "Don't feel left out, I'll fuck you," assuming a familiarity that you've never invited.

Your response is immediate and flat, "Shut up," hoping to quash the conversation then and there with your deadpan delivery.

But then Renjun chimes in, laughter barely concealed in his voice, "Dude, she's not gonna fuck you, that's the girl who's waiting until marriage."

At Renjun's words, a familiar rumor audible for all to hear, you can't help but roll your eyes. It's not the first time your “personal choices” became the focus of campus gossip, yet it never gets easier to hear it discussed so openly.

In that moment, Jeno's gaze locks with yours, a brief encounter that feels like an eternity. His eyes, sharp and probing, offer no hint of his thoughts, leaving you floundering in their depths. The intensity of his stare is unexpectedly captivating, sending a jolt of weakness through you that's both unsettling and embarrassingly thrilling. Despite the rumors and the situation, you're forced to admit—Jeno is undeniably hot.

But just as quickly as the moment arrives, it passes. Jeno breaks the eye contact, returning to his own world with an ease that suggests he's completely unfazed by Renjun's comment. This reaction, or lack thereof, catches you off guard. You had braced yourself for a tease or a quip, something to match Donghyuck and Renjun's playful torment. Yet, Jeno's disinterest and quick dismissal of the conversation leave you in a curious mix of relief and disappointment.

──────────────────────────────

One day you’re gonna cut Lee Jeno’s cock off.

There’s no way he can make a girl scream that loud.

The frustration builds within you as you sit in your room, once again failing to focus on studying the musical compositions you need to know by tomorrow. And who’s to blame? Lee Jeno, of course. It’s the second time today his fucking with Nayoung has derailed your concentration. Normally, living with her is a joy; she’s your best friend, your better half. But in moments like these, you wish you could live alone, away from the constant distractions of her sex life.

She gets laid a lot, it’s a regular occurrence in your shared apartment. She’s louder than she normally is tonight, her moans and screams echoing through the walls without a hint of restraint. You try to drown out the noise, burying your head in your textbooks, but it's futile. You can't focus, your mind consumed by thoughts of Jeno and his cock.

(Unfortunately)

Eventually, the noise subsides, and you cautiously step out of your room, relieved that Jeno seems to have finally left. But as you round the corner, a low, deep voice sends a shiver down your spine, and you freeze in your tracks. He's still here.

Panic sets in as you realise how you're practically walking around naked in an oversized top and short shorts, no bra to conceal your exposed skin. You curse under your breath, desperate to escape to the safety of your room, but you know he'll see and hear you if you make a move now.

With no other option, you dart behind the sofa, thankful for its strategic placement that shields you from his view. Heart racing, you hold your breath, praying he doesn't notice you hiding just a few feet away.

Unbeknownst to you, Jeno's attention isn't on Nayoung; he wouldn't have recognized your presence even if you made noise. You're pretty sure Nayoung doesn't realize you're here either. Jeno is shirtless, basking in the afterglow of sex, but his focus isn't on Nayoung; he's not even looking at her.

The moment he entered the house for the first time, Jeno became enamored. It felt as though he was right where he was supposed to be. His eyes lit up with surprise and thrill as he noticed certain things and items that caught his attention—things he found cool and eye-catching. Despite never having been in this house before, it felt like he was exactly where he was meant to be.

His eyes sparkled with a light that you should've seen, a light that no other girl had brought to him before. "How did you get this?" he asks Nayoung in awe, marveling at a rare Lego set.

"I didn't. It's my roommate's," she replies, her features showing amusement and disinterest. You had so many nerdy and niche things lying around, and Nayoung found none of them interesting.

Jeno spots a rare album, one he's never seen anyone have before. "This is really cool. I didn't know you were into—"

"Yeah, that's also my roommate's," Nayoung interrupts.

Jeno shakes his head in amusement, his eyes landing on a book, ‘Normal People' by Sally Rooney. "What about this?”

"A birthday gift from my roommate. I haven't checked it out yet," Nayoung replies.

"Oh, you should. It's really cool," Jeno says, scratching his head. He's about to apologise, realising he's delving too much into your personal space. But then his eyes land on a bass guitar and the apology fails to slip from his tongue. "Do you play bass? I always say that my ideal woman—" Jeno catches himself, sighing as he realises Nayoung silence. "—does not play bass, because this is clearly your roommate's."

"She's in a band," Nayoung says simply.

"Damn, that's cool," Jeno whispers. "What's she like?"

You gulp nervously, wondering why Lee Jeno wants to know about you. You’re not used to the feeling of someone being interested in you, you’re not used to someone wanting to find out more and uncover you. It's incredibly foreign and unfamiliar.

“She's in the matrix, she's a whore," Nayoung says, and you open your mouth in shock. What the fuck? No, you were not!

Jeno chuckles, and you realise Nayoung was just joking. Her next words warm your heart. "She's the best person I've ever met. She's really chill and calm, sweet to everyone, and fair. She has a really good heart. She's different from everyone we see on campus, different in a good way. She's a bit of a nerd; her main worries in life are how to get the next rare Lego set or make sure she has enough time to balance being in her band, acing her major, and doing all that volunteering and extracurricular crap. She's a breath of fresh air."

Nayoung shakes her head with a dry chuckle. "This is unbelievable. You just picked out all the things in here that belong to my roommate. You didn't even spare a glance at the stuff that's mine.”

Yeah, because they're not interesting, Jeno thinks.

Nayoung eyes all of your possessions and shakes her head. She turns to Jeno. "It's really weird stuff, and I'm really shocked you find it interesting. I didn't expect it from you. I've never seen someone as interested in it... other than you and my roommate."

“My roommate is into pretty weird stuff. She does these weird paintings of robots playing sports.”

Jeno scratches his neck and nods. “Yeah, that’s weird…” (He thought it sounded pretty cool).

“She also has this crazy habit of making breakfast food sing show tunes, I mean, it’s not that annoying because she’s an amazing singer, she’s in a band so I’ll give that to her.”

"So does your roommate's band ever play shows or...?" Jeno asks.

"Get out," Nayoung bluntly says, pointing her arm towards the door.

Nayoung sighs; this always happens. Nayoung had a roommate complex. Unbeknownst to you, guys always dug her roommate, you. Only you would never know the full extent or seriousness of this, as you would never return the affection or interest. You were robotic, denying all forms of affection, so nothing ever came from guys wanting to fuck you. Paired with the rumor that you were strictly Christian and waiting until marriage to fuck, yeah, you weren’t going to get laid anytime soon.

She takes a seat on the sofa and nearly jumps when she sees you sleeping there soundly. She didn’t know that you staged this; you knew she’d come to the couch after Jeno left, so you had to pretend you were sleeping. You couldn’t let Nayoung or Jeno know that you had heard and witnessed that entire interaction. She smiles at you and covers you in the blankets fully, readjusting your head and dimming the lights. She wasn’t surprised that you drew attention without trying to or even knowing that people were into you.

She did have a really fucking cool roommate.

──────────────────────────────

The next morning, Nayoung looks sad, her shoulders slumped as she sits at the kitchen table, picking at her breakfast. You take in her demeanor, noting the furrow in her brow and the downturn of her lips. You have to put your acting skills to use, masking the knowledge of why she's upset with a concerned expression. You go to her immediately, your voice filled with worry, "What's wrong? Did he? I'm gonna kill him—"

Nayoung huffs softly, a mix of frustration and resignation in her breath. "We're gonna stop seeing each other," she explains, her voice tinged with sadness.

Your eyes widen in surprise, and you're about to throw hands but she shakes her head and tells you to calm down, making ‘no’ motions, a small smile playing at her lips. She shakes her head and chuckles softly, "No, he did nothing wrong. I'm not gonna miss him. I know this was just sex, but god, he's really attractive and has a good personality. I'm not getting caught up, but wow, I just feel overwhelmed and intense. How can someone be such an attractive and hot person and know how to use his cock?"

You're at a loss for words, your voice catching in your throat as you struggle to find the right response. You were awkward when it came to emotional conversations, you didn’t know how to comfort someone! One to one intimate moments like this overwhelmed you. However, Nayoung drops a bomb that leaves you speechless and stunned.

"And he likes you."

You choke on your own breath, your eyes widening in disbelief as you shake your head vehemently. "Me? What? That’s absolutely ridiculous, Nayoung, no he doesn’t! He doesn’t even know who I am."

Inner turmoil consumes you as conflicting thoughts swirl in your mind. How could someone like Jeno possibly be interested in you? You've never exchanged a single word, never shared a moment beyond fleeting glances in passing. Logically, it doesn't add up; you're strangers. He revels in the chaos of getting high and fucking, while you find solace in quiet evenings, lost in the intricate world of LEGO creations and the soothing melody of your bass guitar. It's inconceivable that someone like him could find anything remotely intriguing in someone like you.

"I'm telling you. He likes you. It's true! He pointed out every single thing in the living room that was yours. He likes all the things you do. He's a nerd like you."

Your voice cracks with disbelief, your hands gesturing in denial as you try to process Nayoung's words. "Lee Jeno? Nerd? He's far from... he's a fuckboy with no heart, he's popular and parties like there's no tomorrow, he smokes and does drugs and—"

"Y/N! You know better than to stereotype. Yes, he does party, is popular, and loves fucking, but he's more than that. He's obviously more than that, and it's not like he hides it. You're only seeing what you want to see. The image you have of him in your head is an image that is surface level. He's actually a good guy, he doesn’t think of himself as above people, and he's chill and kind. He aces exams, and he knows about all the rare little Legos like you do, so he’s clearly a nerd!"

You sigh heavily, feeling a mix of frustration and realization wash over you. Nayoung was right. You were only seeing what you wanted to see. Your idea of him was so fixed and stubborn that you refused to look deeper, beyond the surface.

"It’s like you, Y/N. People only see you as that nerdy, quiet loner who doesn’t talk to anyone and doesn’t drink or party. People think you’re weird—"

"Gee, thanks a lot," you cut off Nayoung's words, sarcastically thanking her for her honesty.

"But I know that you’re way more than that! You’ve got so many cute little side interests! It all adds to your personality and it’s all important. It shouldn’t be overlooked. It makes you who you are. Not only are you a med student, but you’re also in a fucking band! You’re the bassist! It’s fucking hot and cool, Y/N. Lee Jeno even asked for the name of your band."

──────────────────────────────

What you knew about Lee Jeno’s cock was against your own will.

Nayoung’s words echo in your mind, each syllable sending a jolt of heat straight to your core. "Jeno’s literally so good at dirty talk," she continues, her voice dripping with excitement. "He knows exactly how to please a woman. He doesn’t just stick his dick in and out. He actually has superb technique."

You breathe heavily, shutting your laptop once and for all. "If you and Jeno have stopped seeing each other then why are you telling me this?" you interrupt, unable to conceal the frustration in your voice. Nayoung and Eunji exchange a glance, their eyes twinkling mischievously as they exchange silent communication. It's like they're speaking a language that only they understand, leaving you feeling increasingly left out and confused.

They'd been giving each other these secretive glances for the past week, making you desperately wish you could tap into whatever little secret they were keeping. Yet, whenever you brought it up, they simply shifted the topic.

"You guys are seriously starting to annoy me," you finally snap, unable to contain your frustration any longer. "Can you just tell me whatever the fuck it is you’re thinking about?" You're met with a knowing smirk from both Nayoung and Eunji, their lips quirking into sly smiles as they continue to exchange secretive glances.

Nayoung leans in closer, her voice dropping to a sultry whisper as she continues to regale you with tales of Jeno’s abilities in the bedroom. "You know, Jeno’s not just about the physical stuff," she says cryptically, her gaze flickering with something you can’t quite decipher.

Eunji nods in agreement, her lips quirking into a sly smile as she adds, "He’s got this way of making you feel like you’re the only woman in the world when he’s with you. Once he went down on me and I couldn’t walk for days."

Your eyes widen in surprise at Eunji’s revelation, feeling a mix of shock and arousal coursing through you. "When did you fuck him?" you blurt out, unable to conceal your curiosity.

She just laughs, shaking her head as she brushes off your question with ease. "We’ve casually fucked from time to time," she says nonchalantly. "It’s not that shocking, Y/N. His body count is high, after he broke up with Arin, his cock has been unstoppable."

You huff in disbelief. "Who has he not fucked?" you mutter under your breath, your mind reeling with thoughts of Jeno's sexual conquests.

"You," Nayoung and Eunji say simultaneously, their words hitting you like a ton of bricks. Silence falls over you as you process their words, feeling a strange mix of shock and excitement swirling inside you.

“Do not go all ‘Joe Goldberg’ on me!”

"What is that even supposed to mean?" you stammer, feeling a sense of unease creeping over you at their cryptic words.

Nayoung just smirks. “Nothing. I’m just telling you how good he is in bed.” You had a feeling she was lying. She had her reasons and motives, ones you were far from understanding.

"And why is that of use to me?" you question, expecting an answer. You turn to Sunwoo when you’re met with silence from the girls.

"Sunwoo, help me," you nudge him from beside you, knowing you could trust your closest and oldest friend.

You sigh in relief when he turns to the two girls. “Leave her alone, this Jeno thing is ridiculous, he’s way out of her league.” His words bring you peace and you rest your head against his shoulder, taking a deep breath.

“I’m sorry, I love you, Y/N, but no one is out of Jeno’s league. If anything, it’s the other way around,” Nayoung retorts.

“Thanks a lot,” you snort.

“It’s not just you, everyone is out of his league,” Eunji clarifies.

“I’m not,” Sunwoo says dryly.

“You shut up!” Eunji points an accusing finger at Sunwoo. “I know you have protective, brotherly tendencies when it comes to Y/N, but you have to admit… our girl needs cock!”

He turns to you, a knowing smirk that only the two of you will understand. “You do really need to get laid though,” he says in a low voice.

Nayoung goes back to praising Jeno for his sexual abilities. “And let me tell you, his dirty talk is next level,”

A devilish grin spreads across Eunji’s face as she shares a smirk with Nayoung, recalling one of her past encounters with Jeno. “I’ve never had sex with someone who has such good timing and pace,” she confesses. "He knows exactly what to do with his cock, hands, and lips, and where to do it."

"He’s not just in it for himself, you know," Eunji adds, her tone serious as she looks you straight in the eye. "He genuinely cares about his partner’s pleasure. He’s the perfect person to experience all of your firsts with."

"Hey!" you exclaim, feeling a surge of indignation rising up inside you. "This feels very targeted and personal," you accuse, your voice cracking with frustration. "Where is this coming from?"

You had never spoken a word to Lee Jeno in your life. Sure, you noticed that he seemed to take an interest in your belongings around the apartment, but that wasn't enough to warrant Nayoung and Eunji sudden push to get you interested in him. It all felt too orchestrated, too deliberate, and you couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to their agenda than they were letting on. Despite their efforts to convince you otherwise, you remained skeptical about the idea of getting involved with someone like Jeno, especially considering your vastly different personalities and lifestyles.

"I'm not saying you have to jump into bed with him right away," Nayoung says, her voice softening with sincerity. "But maybe give him a chance. You might be surprised. I know what you're gonna say, 'He's the Lee Jeno, campus fuckboy and resident player, we're in completely different leagues and scenes, and we'll never get along.'" Nayoung mimics your voice, and you narrow your eyes.

"I sound nothing like that!" you frown, realizing you sounded exactly like that.

"Just think about it, Y/N," Nayoung says, her voice tinged with excitement.

"I'm not gonna think about it, my mind is gonna be on the gig I have tonight. You guys better be there!" you declare.

Nayoung's response comes with a gleam in her eye, a spark of something mischievous lurking beneath her casual assurance. "Oh, we wouldn't miss it for the world," she says, her glance sliding over to Eunji as they share a knowing look. They wink at each other, sealing a silent pact, the first stage of their mission to bring you and Jeno closer is already in motion.

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Jeno received a text from Nayoung, inviting him to meet for some drinks at the bar. The anticipation of a night filled with pleasure courses through his veins, driving him to accept the invitation without hesitation.

He goes because he anticipates getting laid. Jeno enjoyed the sex with Nayoung, as he did with any other girl. He had an insatiable appetite for sex, and he never shied away from indulging in it. However, he was always respectful and mindful of boundaries. His partners knew that he was only seeking physical satisfaction, and he made sure they felt just as much pleasure as they gave him.

It didn’t matter to him if Nayoung's personality didn’t align with his; he was solely focused on fulfilling his carnal desires. Feeling sexually frustrated, Jeno eagerly heads to the bar, eager to find release in Nayoung's company.

Jeno's steps quicken as he approaches the bar, the dim lights and pulsing music heightening his senses. He craves the distraction, the temporary oblivion that comes with losing himself in the warmth of another body. And so, with a determined stride, he pushes open the door.

As Jeno strides into the dimly lit bar, the air heavy with the scent of alcohol and anticipation, he feels a rush of excitement course through him. Dressed in a sleek leather jacket that hugs his form, he exudes an air of rugged charm and allure as he scans the room, his eyes alight with anticipation.

The bar is cast in shadows, a dimly lit sanctuary with a retro flair that gives it an air of timeless charm. Neon signs flicker softly against the dark walls, casting a warm, inviting glow over the eclectic mix of patrons. The atmosphere is a blend of nostalgia and mystery, each corner telling a story, each shadow holding a secret. Vinyl records adorn one wall, a nod to the classics, while the low hum of conversation and the clink of glasses provide a steady soundtrack to the night.

A familiar tingle zips through him, it’s an echo of the sensation he felt that first time he crossed the threshold into your apartment, a sense of rightness, of being exactly where he’s supposed to be.

Something shifts inside him. The retro vibe, combined with the sultry air, sets a scene that's both familiar and charged with new energy. Shadows dance across the walls, and the music's pulse syncs with his own heartbeat, signaling a night of unexpected turns.

Amidst the noise and the crowd, Jeno spots Nayoung. She's there, laughing, surrounded by friends, exactly where he should want to be. But he doesn’t move towards her. Instead, there's a compelling force, a curiosity leading him elsewhere, towards something—or someone—he hadn't anticipated.

It’s you.

Amongst the faces, yours catches his gaze like a lighthouse in the fog. It's inexplicable, this sudden redirection of his night, his desires. Something inside him has decided, without a word, that the night was never really about Nayoung. It was about discovering what he didn't even know he was looking for—until now.

Perched on the stage, bathed in the soft glow of the neon lights, you exude a magnetic energy that draws him in like a match to its flame. You were breathtaking. Dressed in a mini skirt that accentuates every curve of your ass and thighs, paired with a top that leaves little to the imagination, you radiate confidence and sensuality that leaves Jeno spellbound.

For a moment, time seems to stand still as Jeno’s gaze locks with yours, his breath catching in his throat at the sight of you. In that instant, he feels a surge of desire unlike anything he’s ever experienced. Who were you? He was sure that you were one of the students at the college, he was sure he had seen you before. He’s just shocked that this is the first time he’s recognising how hot you are.

In that fleeting moment, as Jeno's eyes meet yours, time itself seems to pause, the air charged with an electric tension. His gaze, intense and unyielding, speaks of a yearning that goes beyond mere attraction, hinting at depths of desire that are raw and untamed. As your smile fades, replaced by a questioning frown, the atmosphere thickens with unspoken possibilities, a palpable sense of what could be.

The sudden break in your smile sends a pang through Jeno, a silent plea for the connection not to sever. The eye contact between you is a live wire, sparking with the potential to ignite. Amidst the crowd, amidst the noise, there's a silent conversation happening, a dance of glances that speaks volumes.

Your mind races with questions. Why was Lee Jeno here? He was the campus heartbreak and residential fuckboy, the last person you’d expect to see you play. You always assumed no one ever found you interesting so why does his interest seem to settle on you tonight? His reputation precedes him, yet here he is, looking at you with an intensity that suggests a desire for something more profound than his usual pursuits.

You weren't naive, why was he looking at you like he wanted you? Like he wanted to fuck you. Why now? His gaze, laden with an unmistakable intensity, seeks to pierce through the layers, to see beyond the facade everyone else sees.

Your band commands the space. The rhythm is captivating, a vibrant blend of guitar riffs and drum beats that fills the room with an infectious energy. You're on the bass, and it's clear this is a passion. The bass itself is a striking piece, its sleek, polished wood and the smooth curves of its body reflecting the stage lights.

As Jeno watches, he can't help but marvel at the skill in your fingers. The way they dance and glide over the strings, with precision and a sort of grace that's both powerful and delicate, stirs something unexpected in him. His gaze fixates on your hands, fingers moving in perfect harmony with the music, and a primal desire ignites within him.

The thought of those talented fingers exploring your own body, tracing every curve and fold, sends a shiver of anticipation down his spine. He imagines the sensation of your touch, firm yet gentle. Lost in the moment, Jeno feels a surge of arousal building within him, his breath hitching as he envisions your fingers delving deeper.

What fucks him up even more is when you smile at him, such an innocent smile that makes his chest tighten with an unexpected surge of desire. It's a smile that lights up your entire face, eyes sparkling with warmth and sincerity, sending a jolt of electricity coursing through Jeno's veins.

As you lock eyes with him and smile, Jeno feels as though the air has been knocked out of his lungs. You look breathtaking, radiant in the soft glow of the stage lights, your beauty almost otherworldly in its intensity. Every curve and contour of your features seems to be highlighted.

You had no idea what he was thinking, so oblivious to the effect you had on him. It was maddening how effortlessly captivating you were, how your mere presence could stir such intense longing within him.

He knows this is wrong, that he shouldn’t be thinking these thoughts, shouldn’t be so turned on by you. Desperately trying to regain control of his thoughts, Jeno attempts to focus on the other members of the band. They exude coolness, lost in the music and their own world. But for all their visual appeal, none of them compare to you.

In that moment, Jeno finds himself singularly captivated by you, unable to tear his gaze away as he succumbs to the intoxicating allure of your presence.

He’s not the only one. The energy of the room has shifted, centering on your presence on stage. It's palpable, the way you've drawn every eye towards you. You're undeniably magnetic, a fact made evident by the sea of faces turned in your direction, yet what truly fascinates Jeno, what truly fucks his mind, is your obliviousness to the effect you're having. You’re just lost in the music, not looking for any approval or basking in the spotlight. This contrast, between how much you stand out and your indifference to it, really catches him.

Though he can't hear your laugh over the music, he sees the way your shoulders shake, the brightness in your eyes, and he knows—it's a sound he wants to discover, to keep. A smile, unbidden, spreads across his face, mirroring the joy he sees in you. It's a strange, fluttery feeling that takes residence in his chest, a sensation both foreign and exhilarating.

Nayoung makes her way through the crowd to him, a knowing smile playing on her lips. She leans in close, her fingers tracing a daring path down his back and over his thighs. Her touch, bold and teasing, makes his heart skip a beat. "You wish that was Y/N touching you, right?" she whispers, her voice a blend of mischief and suggestion.

Turning to face her, Jeno's eyes darken, a smoulder of intensity burning within them as he contemplated her words. "Y/N?" The name, unfamiliar and yet suddenly significant, rolls off his tongue.

Nayoung's nod is all the confirmation he needs. "Yeah, she's the one. She's my roommate," she reveals, each word painting a clearer picture in his mind.

"I'm off to Eunji’s house, but you're staying here, right? Y/N normally walks home from the bar. Maybe you could offer to walk her, maybe keep her company. Our apartment is going to be empty… use your imagination." With a final wink, she slips away.

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As Jeno steps out into the cool night, he spots you alone under a streetlamp, the smoke from your cigarette curling into the night air. As you take another drag, the ember glows, casting a soft light on your features. He’s mesmerised by the sight, a girl smoking would always be hot to him, the sight of the smoke framing your face proves that. It gives you a mysterious vibe, making you appear all the more captivating and irresistibly sexy in his eyes.

Drawn to you, he moves closer and asks if he can join. Noticing his gaze linger, you offer him a cigarette with a knowing smile. You offer him a cigarette with a knowing smile. As he accepts, your fingers brush against his, sending a jolt of electricity through both of you. There’s a charged energy in the way your gazes lock. As he inhales, his jawline becomes more pronounced, the smoke curling around him like a caress. There’s a deliberate slowness to his exhale, the smoke weaving between you, creating an intimate veil.

As the conversation between you and Jeno progresses, you find yourself surprisingly at ease in his presence. Normally, you'd keep your guard up, especially around someone as notorious as Jeno, but tonight, there's something different. Before you realize it, you're drawing him in closer, the usual barriers falling away. You might have blamed it on alcohol, but you're sober, leaving the connection between you both intriguingly genuine.

Conversation starts light, with Jeno leaning in slightly, the warmth of the moment closing the distance between you. "Watching you tonight… I was taken aback, you’re really good," he says, his voice low and appreciative, tinged with genuine admiration.

You laugh softly, a bit of surprise flickering across your face at his observation. "I just love playing, didn't think anyone actually noticed," you reply, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, a hint of bashfulness in your smile.

"Oh, trust me, it's hard not to notice," Jeno continues, his gaze steady on you, making sure you understand he's talking about more than just the music.

You giggle, feeling a mix of flattery and nervousness under his focused attention. "Well, I'm glad you think so. I'm usually just hoping I don't mess up the chords," you respond, trying to maintain a lighthearted tone, even as his compliment sends a warm flutter through you.

"Mess up? I think you could play anything and make it sound incredible," he asserts, a playful yet sincere edge to his words. His flirtatious confidence is smooth, but it's his underlying earnestness that catches you off guard, drawing an unguarded smile from you.

The conversation flows, creating a comfortable yet charged atmosphere. Your laughter comes more easily. With a playful smirk, Jeno’s eyes trail down your figure, appreciating the way your tight top accentuates your curves and your skirt hugs your hips and thighs. “You look stunning,” he comments, his tone flirtatious yet respectful.

Blushing at his compliment, you giggle softly and playfully respond, “I thought I looked pretty today.”

Jeno’s gaze meets yours, a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes as he leans in closer. “You look hot,” he says, his voice dripping with desire, sending a thrill down your spine.

Your cheeks flush a deeper shade of pink as you accept Jeno's jacket, letting out a soft giggle that speaks volumes of your appreciation and the fluttering emotions within. "Thank you," you manage to say, your voice light and airy, tinged with a mix of gratitude and a growing warmth that has little to do with the dropping temperatures around you.

The way Jeno looked at you changed everything. You had noticed his eyes when you were on the stage and you’re noticing it now. The opinions you had formed about him, the guard you had meticulously built up, the walls you constructed around yourself—all of it began to crumble the moment his gaze met yours. You found yourself inexplicably drawn towards him, a magnetic pull you couldn't resist.

There's just something about him.

There's something about his eyes, particularly striking, that makes it impossible for you to look away. It's as if they hold a depth of understanding and kindness, captivating you, making you feel seen and acknowledged in a way that's disarmingly comforting.

There's something about his smile, too. It's genuine, radiant even, cutting through your defenses as if they were made of paper. His smile seems to speak directly to your soul, warming you from the inside out, and making the corners of your own lips twitch upwards in response.

You can't help but admit, there's something about him—something undeniably compelling that makes you feel like you’re rediscovering something familiar, a connection that's both unexpected and deeply welcome.

You start to shiver, you’re not sure whether it’s because of the weather or how he’s making you feel. Jeno, noticing your discomfort, doesn't hesitate. He smoothly takes off his jacket and places it over your shoulders. The sudden warmth from the jacket contrasts sharply with the cool air.

As Jeno's jacket settles around your shoulders, the immediate sensation is one of warmth, the material soft against your skin. The jacket, slightly too large, feels like a hug, a protective barrier against the chill. But it's his scent that truly captivates you — infused with notes of wood and spice, subtle yet distinctly masculine.

Jeno's gaze inadvertently falls on your arm. There, slightly peeking out from under the fabric, is a tattoo that immediately captures his attention. It's a butterfly, intricately designed, its wings seemingly crafted from delicate wisps of ashes, as if it has risen, reborn from the remnants of a past life. The detail is exquisite, symbolising transformation, resilience, and the beauty of emerging stronger from challenges.

"That's... I have the same tattoo," Jeno reveals, his voice tinged with disbelief and a newfound depth of connection.

For a moment, the world seems to pause, the ambient noise of your surroundings fading into the background as you lock eyes. The eye contact is intense, it’s as if the discovery of your matching tattoos has unveiled a deeper layer of understanding, a serendipitous link that neither of you expected but both inherently feel.

The butterfly, for you, symbolizes a journey through personal trials, a testament to the strength it takes to rise anew. For Jeno, it represents a parallel path, a reminder of his own resilience and the transformative power of embracing change.

You feel a surge of heat pooling in your core as he shifts slightly, his movements drawing you in closer. “Are you okay with me showing you?” he asks, voice low and husky, dripping with seduction. It sends a rush of heat straight to your core. You narrow your eyes, confused but nod immediately, your chest tightening and your eyes firing when you realise what he means. It’s a tattoo under his shirt, and the thought of him revealing it to you ignites a fiery desire within you.

Your heart races as you meet his gaze, your eyes smouldering with desire. With a deliberate yet sensual touch, you place your hand on his, stopping him from lifting his shirt. “Do you want to come home with me?” you whisper, surprised at how forward you’re being but this feels right. Your voice is laced with longing and need. You can feel the electricity crackling between you, the air thick with anticipation.

A wicked grin spreads across Jeno’s lips as he gazes at you, his eyes darkening with desire. “You can show me then. I have a tattoo on my thigh that I want to show you,” you add, your words sending a surge of arousal through both of you. The tension between you is palpable, the desire for each other burning hotter with every passing moment.

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Ultimately, you made the first move. The walk back home was charged with an energy that couldn't be ignored, an undeniable sexual tension that seemed to pull you both closer with every step. Heated glances were exchanged, each look sending a clear message of the attraction between you.

The moment the front door clicked shut, you seized him, your fingers digging into his shirt as you pulled him into you with an urgency that bordered on desperation. His lips crashed against yours like a tidal wave, igniting a firestorm of passion that consumed you both. It was a kiss fueled by the electric charge that had crackled between you since the moment you laid eyes on each other.

His lips were like a drug, intoxicating and addictive, sending shockwaves of desire coursing through your veins. He knew exactly how to move his lips against yours, each brush and caress igniting a blaze of longing deep within you. The taste of him, a heady blend of musk and spice, lingered on your lips, driving you to explore every inch of his mouth.

His tongue traced the outline of your lips with a teasing flick, coaxing them to part with an insistence. His tongue delved deep into the recesses of your mouth, seeking out every hidden corner with an eager hunger. Your tongues tangled together with a longing that left you both breathless. With each stroke and caress, the intensity of the kiss grew.

His arms encircled your waist, pulling you impossibly close until there was no space between you, his body pressing against yours with a delicious urgency. You tangled your fingers in his hair, each touch and pull of his hair igniting a wildfire of need within you.

As you stumbled blindly through the room, knocking over objects in your path, you couldn't bring yourself to care about the mess you left in your wake. You knocked over one of your lego sets, one that took endless hours to build but in that moment, all that mattered was kissing him, the taste of him on your lips, and the overwhelming need that consumed you both.

Jeno’s hands are rough and eager as he rips your top off, the fabric tearing with a satisfying sound that echoes in the room. He wastes no time in unzipping your mini skirt, but the tightness proves to be a challenge. You both share a moment of laughter, the sound muffled by your desperate kisses, as he struggles to pull it down your legs.

Giggles mix with moans as you continue to ravage each other. You dragged him impossibly closer, as if trying to meld your bodies together into one. His arms wrapped around you, his hands roaming over your back and shoulders, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

You detach your lips for just a moment, recapturing your breath, then you leap into his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist as he lifted you effortlessly off the ground. The sensation of his body against yours was electrifying. Your breath mingled with his, hot and heavy against each other’s mouths as you panted and moaned.

"Who's home?" he breathes out, desperation lacing his words, a different side of him emerging with a heavier, more urgent tone.

"No one. Just us," you reply, your voice a low, throaty moan, thick with desire.

You've heard Nayoung talk about her experiences with him, listened to her descriptions of how it felt to fuck him. You knew more about what you were getting yourself into than you let on. She had mentioned how he was softer in the beginning, but that wasn't what you wanted.

"I don't want you to hold back. I don't want you to be soft," you pant out, the words dripping with raw need and insatiable longing. "I want you to fuck me like you mean it," you demand, your voice husky with desire, your eyes blazing with primal hunger.

In response, he lets out a low, primal moan, almost a growl, that resonates deep within you, setting your senses ablaze and igniting a fire in the depths of your core.

He throws you onto the bed, a rush of exhilaration coursing through you as you land with a soft thud. His lips remain locked with yours, refusing to break the connection as he positions himself on top of you.

With a fierce determination, he discards your lace bra and thong, his hands moving with precision and purpose. As you lay exposed before him, you feel the heat in his eyes, a primal desire burning bright as he admires every inch of your bare form. His growl of appreciation sends shivers down your spine, igniting a fire within you that can only be quenched by his touch.

Between kisses, he whispers, "You don't know how much I've wanted to see every inch of your skin like this," his tone heavy with longing and anticipation. His lips continue their exploration, leaving you breathless and yearning for more. He murmurs, "I've been thinking about you all night long,"

Between kisses, he whispers, "Thinking about how you'd moan my name as I take every inch of you," his tone heavy with longing and anticipation. "The feeling of your body underneath mine, how it would arch and tremble," he continues, his breath hot against your skin. "Feeling your tight pussy gripping me.” He confesses, his words sending a surge of heat straight to your core.

Your whimper, feeling utterly speechless, yet you manage to muster one pleading request. "Take your clothes off," you whine, pouting as the realisation sinks in that he remains fully clothed against your bare skin.

He responds with a shake of his head, a smile dancing on his lips. "Not now," he murmurs before returning his focus to admiring every inch of your body.

His breath hitches when he finally sees your tattoo, it really was identical to his. With a hungry look in his eyes, he leans in and presses his lips against the outline of your tattoo, tracing it with tantalizing kisses. His lips move slowly, sensually, as he explores every inch of the intricate design, sending shivers of pleasure coursing through your body.

You gasp as his tongue joins the dance, tracing the delicate lines of your tattoo with a teasing touch. Each stroke of his tongue sends waves of pleasure rippling through you, igniting a fiery passion that consumes you both. In the heat of the moment, you lose yourself in the sensation of his lips and tongue caressing your skin, driving you to the brink of ecstasy.

“You're so fucking pretty," he purrs, his voice low and husky with desire as he drinks in the sight of you. He groans softly, unable to resist the magnetic pull of your beauty, longing to taste every inch of your skin.

His body presses down against yours with unyielding force, the weight of him grounding you to the mattress. You can feel every contour of his form pressing into you, every muscle tense with desire as he hungrily devours you.

The sensation of him against you is overwhelming, a reminder of his presence as he presses closer, leaving no space between you. Your breath hitches when you feel the unmistakable hardness of his cock rubbing against your thigh, igniting a fire of need within you.

As his lips trail from yours to your neck, he leaves a trail of hot, wet kisses in his wake. Each touch leaves behind a mark of his possession, a hickey to brand you as his own in the heat of the moment.

As his lips trail from yours to your neck, he leaves a scorching path of hot, wet kisses in his wake. His kisses are possessive and rough, each touch a declaration of his dominance as he claims you as his own. With each press of his lips against your skin, he leaves behind a red mark of his possession, his lips tugging at your skin with a delicious mix of pleasure and pain, leaving behind teeth marks that throb with a sensation that borders on ecstasy.

With a lingering kiss that sets your senses ablaze, he teases your lips before trailing down your body with determined intent. Each movement is deliberate, sending shivers of anticipation down your spine.

As he reaches your nipples, he captures them between his lips with a hunger that leaves you breathless. His tongue dances across your sensitive peaks, tracing intricate patterns before swirling around them in long, languid strokes. The sensation is electric, igniting a firestorm of desire deep within you as he sucks and licks with an insatiable hunger.

"Fuck," you moan, your voice dripping with need as he drives you wild with pleasure. "Jeno," you urge, your fingers grasping at his hair as you lose yourself in the overwhelming sensation.

"Harder," you demand, your voice laced with desperation as you beg for more of his intoxicating touch. "I need you to make me cum," you whimper, your body arching towards him as he complies with your wishes, his movements growing more urgent with each passing moment and you can’t help but feel his smirk against your skin.

With every tug of his hair, you feel a surge of pleasure coursing through you, intensifying the already overwhelming sensation of his mouth on your nipples. As he trails scorching kisses down your body, every touch sets your skin ablaze with desire, leaving a trail of heat in his wake. His lips linger over every inch of your flesh, igniting a firestorm of need that consumes you from within.

"That's it, good girl, cum for me," he murmurs against your skin, his voice a sultry whisper that sends shivers down your spine. His head rests against your thigh, his gaze locked with yours as he watches you with dazed eyes, the intensity of his stare driving you wild with desire.

"Keep your eyes on me when you cum," he demands, his voice low and deep, sending a thrill of anticipation coursing through you. You whimper in response, your hands trembling as you remove them from covering your face, laying them by your sides as your orgasm approaches rapidly.

As he locks his hands with yours, his touch sends shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you, his fingers coaxing and guiding you towards ecstasy. "Cum all over my tongue, pretty girl, can you do that for me?" he urges, his voice a husky growl that ignites a firestorm of need deep within you.

As the tension coils tighter within you, you feel your release building, a primal urge threatening to consume you entirely. With a tight grip on his hands, you surrender to the overwhelming sensation, your body trembling with anticipation.

The pleasure crashes over you like a tidal wave, your senses overwhelmed as you feel yourself spiraling into ecstasy. Behind closed eyelids, flashes of intense pleasure dance across your vision, colors swirling in a sensation.

He smashes his lips against yours, the kiss suffocating but so hot and heated that it sends a jolt of desire coursing through your veins. As he breaks away from the kiss, his words hang in the air, a response to the desire you had expressed earlier.

You notice a shift in him, a different look in his eyes that sends a thrill of excitement down your spine. There's a hot, intense side to him that you hadn't expected, a side that turns you on more than you could have imagined.

“How do you want me to fuck you?” Jeno whispers huskily, his lips trailing languid kisses all over your face.

His gaze softens with anticipation as he waits for your response, and you find yourself ready to comply. You nod eagerly, but he just tuts, wanting a clear answer.

"Tell me what you want me to do to you," he says, his voice a mixture of softness and anticipation, contrasting with the demanding tone in his voice. He's really asking you? You hadn't expected this, never experienced this level of openness and desire before.

"I - I..." you begin, stumbling over your words, unsure how to articulate your deepest desires.

"Baby, don't hold back," he tuts gently, his index finger resting at the bottom of your chin, keeping your gaze locked on his.

"Don't laugh at me," you pout.

"Why would I do that?" His voice deepens, a low chuckle rumbling in his chest as he reassures you with his words.

"I - I want you to be rough," you finally admit, your voice trembling with anticipation. "I want you to slap me, choke me, spit on me. I don't want you to be gentle. I want to see if you live up to the hype of being this 'sex god' that everyone claims you are. I - just do whatever you want to me. Use me and control me."

Your confession leaves you breathless, your heart pounding in your chest as you await his reaction. You gasp in shock at your own words, your eyes widening in disbelief at the boldness of your desires. But as you look into his eyes, you see nothing but desire and hunger reflected back at you, fueling the fire of anticipation burning between you.

His movements are confident and commanding as he grips your chin firmly, forcing you to meet his intense gaze. You dare not look away, captivated by the raw desire burning in his eyes. With his other hand, he traces the curves of your body, his touch rough and demanding, igniting a fire within you.

As his fingers trail lower, teasing your already sensitive peaks, you gasp at the electrifying sensation. A low growl escapes his lips as he feels how wet you already are, his finger slipping effortlessly into your eager heat.

“Fuck, you’re already dripping?” he murmurs, his voice laced with desire and disbelief. “I haven’t even touched you yet, needy slut.”

You moan as his fingers slide effortlessly into your eager heat, the sensation sending sparks of pleasure racing through your body. He doesn't hold back, pushing deeper with each thrust, stretching you to accommodate his every movement. The rough pads of his fingertips brush against your sensitive walls, igniting a firestorm of desire deep within you. You arch your back, offering yourself up to him completely, craving more of his intoxicating touch.

He adds another finger, and then another, the stretch deliciously overwhelming as he fills you completely. You can feel the pressure building, the tight coil of pleasure threatening to unravel at any moment. His pace quickens, his thrusts becoming more urgent and relentless as he drives you closer to the edge. You can't help but cry out, lost in the overwhelming sensations coursing through your body.

With each stroke, he pushes you closer and closer to the brink, until finally, you shatter into a million pieces, waves of ecstasy crashing over you as you succumb to the overwhelming pleasure he's given you.

"I want you to eat me out –" you manage to breathe out, your voice trembling with anticipation and need.

With a hungry glint in his eyes, Jeno positions you just how he likes, spreading your legs wide as he settles between them. His touch is demanding, yet precise, as he dips his fingers between your slick folds, reveling in the wetness that greets him. Already, he's moved his head down, and you eagerly cage it between your thighs, your breath hitching in anticipation.

Throwing your legs around his shoulders, you pull him closer, urging him to delve deeper. And delve he does, his tongue tracing intricate patterns along your throbbing heat, each stroke sending jolts of electricity coursing through your body. There's no gentleness in his approach; he's forceful, relentless, determined to devour you whole.

He attacks your clit with fervor, his tongue flicking against it with a ferocity that leaves you gasping for air. His fingers dig into your thighs, holding you in place as he intensifies his assault, his head bobbing between your legs as he drives you to the brink of ecstasy.

"Fuck, you taste so good," he growls against your sensitive flesh, the vibration sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body. He's not content until you're a writhing mess beneath him, lost in a sea of pleasure that only he can provide.

Your moans fill the room, broken and desperate, as he takes you higher and higher, pushing you closer to the brink with each skilled stroke of his tongue. But just as you close your eyes to savour the moment, his hand comes down hard on your pussy, giving you a sharp slap. "I told you to look at me when you cum," he growls, his voice a commanding presence that leaves you breathless. You let out a moan, not expecting to be so turned on by this. It sends shockwaves of pleasure radiating through you.

With a small nod, you oblige, opening your eyes to meet his gaze, letting him see the raw, unbridled desire written across your face. You're completely at his mercy, your body aching with need as he continues to devour you with his mouth.

He sucks dry every last drop of your pleasure, his praises ringing in your ears like a symphony of desire.

He presses his lips against your throbbing core with a mouthy and wet kiss. "Good girl," he murmurs, his words a soothing balm to your fractured senses. "Such a pretty cunt," he adds, his voice a husky growl as he admires your pussy.

And as you come down from the dizzying heights of ecstasy, you're left panting and trembling in his arms, completely spent and utterly satisfied.

As Jeno pulls back from devouring you, his eyes blaze with unquenchable desire, hungry for more of you. Your body trembles with anticipation, aching for his touch as you meet his intense gaze, silently begging for him to fulfill your craving.

“Please, Jeno,” you plead, your voice thick with need, your fingers grasping at the sheets beneath you. “I need you inside me.” His grin is wicked, a mirror of your own desire, as he savors your desperation, relishing the power he holds over you.

“You want me to fuck you, baby?” he purrs, the husky timbre of his voice sending shivers down your spine.

You nod fervently, a smile tugging at your lips as your hands reach for his top, swiftly pulling it over his head. Your fingers trace over his bare chest and abs, the sight of his toned physique eliciting a gasp of admiration. His chest and abs glisten in the dim light, sculpted to perfection, each muscle defined with precision.

Your breath hitches with each passing moment, the ache between your legs growing more insistent with every heartbeat. Fingers trembling, you reach for his belt, your urgency evident in the way you fumble with the buckle. With a swift motion, he pulls it down himself, his boxers following suit, revealing his hardened length. You gasp at the sight, your eyes fixated on his cock as you reach out instinctively. He groans in response, his voice strained with desire as he warns, "Don't, baby. I won't last."

With a primal growl, he positions himself between your parted thighs, his throbbing cock poised at your entrance, close yet agonisingly out of reach. You can see it in his eyes, and the way he's looking at you, he's going to go soft despite his earlier promises of roughness.

As you express your disappointment with a soft whine, he silences you with a gentle shake of his head. "Trust me, baby, I'm big," he whispers in a husky tone, his words sending a thrill through you.

"I don't care. I still want you to be rough with me," you assert, your desire palpable in your voice.

He shakes his head once more. “You don't want me to be too rough for the first time," he explains softly, his eyes filled with tenderness. "Maybe next time," he adds with a teasing wink, prolonging the anticipation as he plays with your desires.

As his lips crash against yours in a breathy kiss, a symphony of moans escapes from the depths of your souls, mingling in the air like sweet melodies of desire. Each touch of his lips against yours ignites a fire within, sending sparks of electricity dancing across your skin. With every exhale, you both moan into each other’s mouth.

He backs away from your lips too early for your liking. With a devious glint in his eyes, he teases, testing your patience and leaving you craving more.

You grow increasingly impatient when he doesn’t move, he smirks, he’s teasing you, testing your patience. Your whimpers become more urgent with each passing moment. “Please,” you beg for any type of movement

But he continues to toy with you, his smirk widening as he revels in your desperation. “I don’t know, should I let you have my cock?” he taunts, his voice dripping with desire and dominance.

You deadpan. “Your cock is literally inside of my vagina right now—”

“Do you really think you deserve it?” he says, his voice low and dark, sending shivers down your spine.

You roll your eyes, a smirk tugging at the corners of your lips as you match his tone. You find yourself enjoying the charged atmosphere, how comfortable it feels with him. You find yourself holding back a grin. "I bet you're not even that big," you retort.

“Oh?” he says, a smirk playing on his lips as he closes the distance between you, his gaze burning with intensity.

As he thrusts into you with relentless force, you feel an overwhelming mix of pleasure and discomfort wash over you. His cock is so thick, stretching you to your limits with each deep penetration. You whimper, struggling to adjust to his size, but he shows no mercy, drilling into you with undefeated determination.

His movements are harsh and unforgiving, his hips driving forward with brutal force as he claims you as his own. Each thrust sends shockwaves through your body, leaving you trembling with need. You moan uncontrollably, unable to form coherent words as he pounds into you relentlessly.

“You’re so big,” you manage to gasp out between ragged breaths, your words breathy with a hint of disbelief in your voice as you feel him filling you completely. But his response is cold and mocking.

“You were talking so much shit earlier,” he sneers, his voice dripping with contempt. “Now stay there and fucking take it.”

As his hips collide with yours, the sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, a rhythmic symphony of lust and desire. Each thrust sends shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body, your moans echoing off the walls as you surrender to the raw intensity of his touch.

He fucks you with a primal urgency, his movements rough and demanding as he claims you as his own. His cock drives into you with relentless force, stretching you to your limits and filling you completely with each deep penetration. You can feel every inch of him inside you, his hardness pressing against your most sensitive spots and sending waves of ecstasy crashing over you.

His cock pounds into you relentlessly, driving deep into your slick heat with each forceful thrust. You can feel every inch of him stretching you, pushing you to your limits as he claims you as his own. The sensation is overwhelming, a mixture of pleasure and pain that only serves to fuel your desire for more. “More,” you gasp, your voice barely a whisper.

"Beg for it, beg for my cock deeper inside you," he commands, his voice dripping with desire and dominance. As his words hang in the air, you feel his hands gripping your thighs, pulling your legs around his waist. With a swift movement, he positions you exactly how he wants, allowing for deeper penetration and intensifying the sensations between you. This change in angle sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body, pushing you both to new heights of ecstasy. With each thrust, he buries himself deeper inside you, his cock filling you completely as you cling to him, lost in the overwhelming pleasure of the moment.

"Harder, please," you plead, your voice trembling with need as you yearn for him to give you everything he's got. Your body craves the intensity of his touch, the roughness of his thrusts driving you wild with desire. You arch your back, offering yourself up to him completely, desperate for him to take you to the brink of ecstasy and beyond.

He obliges, increasing the tempo of his thrusts, his movements becoming more urgent as he drives himself deeper into you. The sound of your moans fills the room, mixing with the sound of skin slapping against skin, loud moans and your headboard creaking.

With each merciless thrust, your body succumbs to the relentless assault, every movement driving you closer to the brink of ecstasy. The raw power of his domination leaves you breathless, your senses consumed by the overwhelming pleasure he bestows upon you. You teeter on the edge of climax, every nerve ending ablaze with desire, craving release like never before.

“I’m gonna cum,” you moan desperately, your plea echoing through the room, but instead of granting you release, he chuckles darkly, a sinister sound that sends a shiver down your spine.

With a cruel twist, he wrenches his cock back, the abrupt movement sending a jolt of pain coursing through you. His gaze is unforgiving, a menacing glint in his eyes as he stares down at you, relishing in your torment. Your whimpers of protest only fuel his cruel pleasure, a smirk playing on his lips as he revels in your frustration.

“You were talking so much shit earlier,” he taunts, his voice dripping with contempt as he watches you squirm beneath him. “Do you think you deserve to cum?” His words are like daggers, each one laced with venom as he taunts and belittles you, his dominance asserting itself with every syllable. “Only good girls deserve to cum.”

Jeno’s anger is palpable as he flips you onto your back, the force of his movement taking you by surprise. Your heart races with anticipation, knowing that his roughness is a sign of his frustration. You can feel the tension in the air as he shifts you onto all fours, his movements primal and commanding.

“Spread your legs wider,” he demands, his tone brooking no argument. “That’s it,” he murmurs.

With a primal growl, he positions himself between your legs, his grip on your hips firm and unyielding. “Hold onto the headboard,” he orders, his voice commanding obedience. You obey without hesitation, your nails digging into the wood as he takes you from behind.

Each forceful thrust elicits a gasp from your lips, the intensity of his desire overwhelming your senses. “You like it rough, don’t you?” he taunts, his words punctuated by the sound of skin slapping against skin. “Tell me how much you want it,” he demands, his voice rough with desire.

In the heat of the moment, his anger fuels his actions, his movements rough and unyielding. As he fills you completely, you’re overwhelmed by the sensation, your senses flooded with pleasure. Gasping for air, you’re left breathless, the intensity of his desire consuming you.

Each powerful thrust sends shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body, driving you further toward the edge of ecstasy. Your ass meets his thighs with each forceful movement, the impact sending a shiver down your spine. He takes advantage of your vulnerability, delivering sharp slaps to your pussy, each one igniting a fire within you.

With a forceful grip, he fists your hair back, tilting your head upwards to expose your neck to him. He leaves bruises and hickies along your skin, marking you as his own. His grip tightens, asserting his control over you, his hands roaming possessively over your body.

With a firm grip on your hips, he dictates the rhythm of his thrusts, each one a testament to his dominance. Your arms are held in place, you're left feeling exposed, entirely at his mercy. “I could fuck you like this forever,” he muses in a dark whisper

As he relentlessly pounds into you, his cock stretching you beyond your limits, tears well up in your eyes. The sheer force of his thrusts drives you to the brink of madness, each movement sending waves of both pleasure and pain rippling through your body.

“You really thought you could handle me?” he taunts, his voice dripping with disdain as he continues to ravage you without mercy. His words cut through you like a knife, leaving you feeling exposed and vulnerable beneath his intense gaze.

Despite the overwhelming sensations coursing through you, there’s a perverse sense of pleasure that accompanies the pain and humiliation. You find yourself surrendering to him completely, lost in the primal rhythm of his thrusts and the raw power he exudes.

Your cries mingle with the sounds of skin slapping against skin, the room filled with the symphony of your shared desire. “That’s it,” he growls, his voice low and menacing. “Take it all”

Each thrust drives you closer to the edge of sanity, your body trembling with the exquisite torment of his rough ministrations. The pleasure-pain dichotomy consumes you entirely, leaving you lost in a haze of ecstasy and agony.

You feel completely overwhelmed by him, your senses drowning in the intoxicating cocktail of desire and desperation. The need to please him at any cost drives you to new heights of submission, your every thought and action dedicated to his satisfaction.

His reaction is one of twisted satisfaction, his grin a sinister reflection of the dominance he wields over you. He takes perverse pleasure in your tears, viewing them as a testament to his power and control. With each sob that escapes your lips, he revels in the knowledge that he holds your very soul in his hands, a willing captive to his every whim.

“I-I’m so close,” you gasp out between ragged breaths, your voice trembling with desperation. “Please, let me cum.”

His response is immediate and commanding. His hands wrap around your throat with a firm grip. As he tightens his hold, you feel a rush of adrenaline coursing through your veins, intensifying the sensations overwhelming your body. At the same time, his other hand delivers a sharp, stinging spank to your cheek, sending a jolt of mixed pleasure and pain radiating through you.

“You don’t get to cum until I say so,” he growls, his voice low and authoritative. “Remember that.”

"Please," you beg, your voice strained with desperation. "I need you to cum inside me. Fill me up."

His resolve breaks at your plea, his control slipping as he gives in. Jeno ravages you mercilessly, his own release momentarily forgotten as he focuses solely on driving you to the brink of pleasure. His hands roam over your trembling body, his touch igniting sparks of electricity that dance along your skin. He holds you close and with one final thrust, he sends you hurtling over the edge into blissful oblivion.

As the pleasure builds to an unbearable peak, you feel yourself teetering on the edge of ecstasy. Your body trembles with anticipation, every nerve ending alive with sensation. With a primal cry, you shatter into a million pieces, your orgasm consuming you completely. Waves of pleasure crash over you, leaving you gasping for air as you ride the euphoric high.

Shortly after, with a primal roar, he releases inside you, his hot seed flooding your depths as you both reach the peak of ecstasy together. Waves of pleasure wash over you, leaving you breathless and sated in each other's embrace.

He removes his cock from you, a mixture of wetness and cum slipping out in its wake. With a firm grip, he manhandles you, turning you around to face him. His touch is surprisingly gentle, a complete contrast to the roughness with which he just fucked you. Using his thumb, he wipes away the mascara trailing down your face, his expression softening as he takes in your fucked-out appearance.

Your eyelids droop with exhaustion, but before you can succumb to sleep, he speaks with a gentleness that catches you off guard. "Don't sleep just yet. I need to get you cleaned up." The difference in his tone leaves you feeling dizzy and confused, his soft eyes meeting yours.

Later on, you’re all cleaned up, thanks to him running a bath for you and cleaning your body with your favorite scent of soap. There were lingering kisses and massages, and he even sat in the bath with you, sharing in the intimacy of the moment. Now, you’re in your pajamas, feeling cozy and comfortable, then he asks if he can stay. It’s late so you nod in agreement. That was the only reason. He settles onto your bed, his eyes closing with a contented smile.

But suddenly, you get up, breaking the serene atmosphere. “I need to clean the apartment,” you declare, and he laughs at first, thinking it’s a joke. However, his expression turns serious when he realises you’re not joking.

──────────────────────────────

‘Did the four positions and the five times I made you cum not make you sleepy?’ He questions from behind you.

You turn to him, shaking your head. “It was not four —”

You feel the heat rising to your cheeks as he lists them off. “Missionary, from the back and then against the wall in the shower. You also rode my cock in the shower.’ His words send a shiver down your spine and you gulp. Where did this sex drive come from?

“I just counted, and I made you cum six times,” he adds with a satisfied grin.

You roll your eyes. “Do you count the amount of times you’ve made a girl cum for every girl you sleep with?”

He winks, his voice bringing chills to your spine. “Only you.”

As he leans down beside you, your heart skips a beat. “What do you need help with?” he asks, his gaze locking deeply with yours. Despite the tired lines etched on his face, he alludes such an effortless attractiveness. He was incredibly magnetising and radiant, basking in a sex afterglow.

Your voice is soft and gentle as you speak. “We dropped so many lego sets… I could do with some help putting them back together.”

He smiles warmly and nods, his tired eyes twinkling with affection. "Let's do it."

As you both delve into the intricate world of Lego, your fingers deftly reassembling the scattered pieces, you find yourself opening up to Jeno in a way you never have before.

“You know… no one ever wants to build them with me, this is quite surprising,” you admit, your eyes fixated on the task at hand.

He hums in response, his attention fully captured by your words. “It’s not common for people in their 20s to be into Lego,” he remarks, his tone tinged with curiosity.

As you delve into the details of your Lego collection, Jeno’s genuine interest shines through. He listens intently as you recount the origins of each set, marking the first time you’ve shared this hobby so thoroughly. “I got this one from a fair I went to when I was 12, my uncle got me this one, Nayoung got me this one,” you explain, a nostalgic smile playing on your lips.

His curiosity peaks as he spots a rare Lego set on your shelf, one he surprisingly recognizes by name. “How the fuck did you get that one?” he asks, pointing directly at it.

You respond with a deadpan expression, “I camped out at 3am in the winter to get it.” The absurdity of the situation hits both of you at once, sparking uncontrollable laughter.

Jeno, catching his breath, manages to say, “Tough,” with a mix of admiration and amusement in his voice.

“Did anyone get you this one?” Jeno points at a very rare and expensive set, his eyes glowing with awe. It’s one that was already made, one of your prized possessions, you were glad it was still in tact.

You giggle, a smile lighting up your face as you give him the go-ahead to touch it. You don’t let anyone touch your Lego collection. Especially that set.

An immediate smile lights up your face, and you nod. “Sunwoo got me that one,” you say, relishing the memory. It was one of his random gifts, one that cheered you up when you needed it most.

“Kim Sunwoo? You’re friends with him?” Jeno’s curiosity peaks, his surprise at the mention of Sunwoo not shocking you.

You nod. “My best friend.”

“You seem really different from each other,” Jeno observes.

“We are,” you agree. It’s a common observation, one that you’ve heard countless times before. Sunwoo spends his time getting high and indulging in casual sex; he’s the ultimate fuck boy. But despite his wild ways, he’s also your best friend. He’s intense, but you need him in your life. “People say opposites attract, we balance each other out well. Plus, I’ve known him since we were kids.”

“Are you trying to tell me that you don’t spend your time getting laid because the things you were doing when we were fucking… it takes experience to —”

You interject with a soft whisper, “I’m not a virgin.” You anticipate a reaction from him, but he surprises you by simply smiling and nodding in acknowledgment.

“It was clear when I was fucking you,” he explains calmly, “I could tell it wasn’t your first time.”

Your laughter fills the room, accompanied by a blush coloring your cheeks. “It’s just that there’s a ridiculous rumor that goes around that I’m some Christian girl who’s waiting until marriage and that I’m untouched when it’s not true.”

Jeno’s curiosity persists. “Why did that rumor start?”

Shrugging slightly, you respond, “I don’t even know… I guess people just see me as a quiet and shy person and automatically equate that to me being innocent and clueless. I’m very private; I keep my sexual life on the low. I don’t gossip about it or talk about things like that openly, even to my closest friends. They’re my best friends, so they know I’ve had sex before, but they still join in on the joke that I’m a Christian virgin just to wind me up.”

As Jeno hums thoughtfully, you sense his presence beside you, his silence speaking volumes. Despite not responding verbally, you know he's listening intently, absorbing every word you say. His attentive demeanour reassures you, reminding you that he's there, fully engaged in the conversation. It's a rare quality that you appreciate, his ability to be present and attentive without the need for constant verbal affirmation.

“Why did you start playing bass?” Jeno’s question catches you off guard, his gaze lingering on the eccentric blue bass in the corner of the room in a way that makes your head spin.

You can’t help but giggle at his curiosity. “I was kinda forced to, actually.”

“Really?” His surprise is evident in his voice.

You nod, recalling how Sunwoo had roped you into joining his band. “It’s Sunwoo’s band, and he needed a bass player. He decided it was going to be me, so he taught me how to play. He’s very serious about his band, you know. His major is music, so it makes sense. Sunwoo’s good at everything. He can sing, rap, dance, and play any instrument. I’m the bassist in the band, but he’s better than me at playing it.”

Jeno shakes his head with a smile. “Don’t say that. You’re such a natural at playing bass.”

You offer him a grateful smile in return, touched by his compliment.

“I didn’t see Sunwoo at the gig, though,” Jeno observes, his gaze lingering on your face.

“Or Ryujin,” you add, a burst of laughter escaping your lips. Jeno’s eyebrow quirks up in confusion.

“She’s our main vocalist and plays piano. She wasn’t there either because Sunwoo was balls deep inside of her,” you explain, amusement evident in your voice. “She’s our fifth main vocalist, and we’re probably gonna need to replace her soon. Sunwoo keeps fucking the main vocalists in the band, and they always leave because it makes everything awkward and tense.”

Jeno shakes his head, a wry smile playing on his lips. “Sounds like him.”

You nod in agreement, a knowing look passing between you. “He can’t keep his fucking cock in his pants. Always has to go fuck the woman in the group.”

Jeno chuckles in response, the sound warm and genuine.

You and Jeno have been talking for what felt like hours.

The ease of conversation made it feel like you've known each other for much longer. You didn’t expect to have so much in common with him, you didn’t expect the conversation to flow as smoothly as it did, you also didn’t expect for him to actually stay, especially after you had finished having sex.

His confidence and appeal enhance the atmosphere. Jeno's casual demeanor sets the tone the moment he begins to speak, his confidence is almost dripping from him, as if it's part of the very air around him. He's got this cool, laid-back vibe that's utterly captivating, standing here in your apartment as if it's the most natural thing in the world.

Jeno's gaze holds yours, an unspoken intensity lingering in the way he looks at you. There's an undeniable attractiveness in his focus, in the deliberate way he gives you his undivided attention. Each time he listens, it's with an intensity that makes the moment stretch, filling it with an undeniable tension.

His eyes, expressive and deep, seem to capture and reflect every flicker of emotion, making the connection between you feel both electrifying and profoundly intimate. His smile, when it breaks, is like a slow dawn, gradually illuminating his features and warming the space between you.

You bond about little things but in retrospect they were big, they were such specific and unique things, things that were so special to you.

You give him a tour of your apartment, showing him around with a sense of pride. Each room holds a piece of you, and you’re eager to share it with him. As you lead him through the space, you point out your prized possessions, sharing the stories behind each one.

“This is where I keep my vinyl collection,” you explain, gesturing towards a shelf filled with records. He pauses, running his fingers over the sleek covers with a sense of appreciation.

“Your taste is… amazing.”

He believes in those words even more when you show him your book collection, you're surprised to find that Jeno has read them all. You point out one of the most important books to you, ‘A Thousand Splendid Suns’ and as you're about to recite your favourite line, he says it at the same time as you. “One could not count the moons that shimmer on her roofs, or the thousand splendid suns that hide behind her walls.” you both say in unison, the words echoing in the room.

The eye contact that follows is strong and intense, making you feel weak in the knees. You want to look away, but you can't tear your gaze from his. He's captivating, and in that moment, you feel a magnetic connection that transcends words.

──────────────────────────────

You sit surrounded by your closest friends in a secluded corner of the student lounge. You and Eunji are working on university assignments and projects, both studying musical arts. The steady hum of youthful chatter and the clatter of laptop keys fail to distract you. You’re here but you’re not really here. The noise around you fades into the background as thoughts of Jeno consume your mind every time you close your eyes.

Your mind relentlessly replays the sensation of Jeno's lips against yours, the way his hands explored every inch of your body, and the intensity in his eyes as he gazed at you. The memory of his touch lingers, leaving you dazed and confused. And then there's his cock, thick and pulsating with desire, the mere thought of it sending a shiver down your spine. It's as if his presence has etched itself into every corner of your mind, dominating your thoughts and leaving little room for anything else.

You try to push the memories aside, to focus on the task at hand, but it's no use. His image, his touch, his presence, his lips—it all feels so real. To make matters worse, Eric and Nayoung keep probing and probing.

“Y/N!!!!!” Nayoung interrupts your thoughts. “Are you ready to tell us what happened last night?” she asks with a mischievous wink, raising her eyebrows suggestively, and you immediately understand the implication. You discretely shush her, promising to tell her later, not wanting to draw attention, but nothing ever slips past Eric’s sharp eyes.

As you’re grappling with the weight of your previous conversation, Sunwoo walks in, offering what you hope might be a timely distraction.

The moment he enters, you shoot him an accusatory glare. “You left me and Eric stranded yesterday! We had to find two people willing to perform with us last minute,” you scold, your frustration evident in your tone.

Sunwoo shrugs nonchalantly. “Yeah, I was balls deep inside of Ryujin,” he says casually, as if it’s the most normal thing in the world.

You turn to him, tutting and shaking your head in disbelief. But deep down, you’re not truly surprised. “Really? Again?” you sigh, knowing all too well the consequences of Sunwoo’s actions.

Ryujin, the lead vocalist and keyboard player in your band, was now the latest victim of Sunwoo’s need of fucking the lead vocalists. It has become a recurring theme in your band’s history. Sunwoo's habit of sleeping with the lead vocalists inevitably leads to their departure from the band, as they realize he's only interested in a fling without any emotional attachment.

There had been four lead vocalists before Ryujin who had left for the same reason, and now she was the fifth. It was a cycle that seemed impossible to break, it was annoying but it was pretty funny.

“Pay up,” Eric demands, holding out the money jar to Sunwoo. With a roll of his eyes, Sunwoo begrudgingly adds a £5 note to the jar, another contribution to Eric’s growing collection of Sunwoo’s indiscretions.

Sunwoo lets out a deep sigh, his head tilting back against the cool wall with a suggestive noise that’s entirely inappropriate for 8 AM on a Monday morning. He’s always horny, he was missing Ryujin, missing her pussy.

The brief distraction provided by Sunwoo’s antics quickly fades as Eric, always persistent, picks up the previous line of questioning. He laughs loudly, turning to face you with an expression that feels a bit too much like an interrogation. You brace yourself, knowing exactly where he’s heading with this.

Eric lets out a loud laugh, turning to you like it was an an interrogation, letting you know he wouldn’t drop it you instantly know what he’s going to say. “Where did you run off to after the gig?” he questions, but before you can respond, he answers for you. “I did see a certain Lee Jeno checking you out.”

Silence fills the room, and then Nayoung screams in excitement. “They fucked!!! They had sex!!! Look, it’s all over Y/N’s face, she’s practically basking in the afterglow of Lee Jeno’s massive cock.”

The room erupts into laughter, and you can feel your cheeks burning with embarrassment as everyone turns their attention to you, leaving you wishing for the floor to swallow you whole.

You groan and sit there silently, wearing a defeated expression as Eric and Nayoung exchange comments and jokes, teasing you mercilessly. Sunwoo, however, remains silent, his expression unreadable as always, leaving you feeling perplexed by his demeanour.

He turns to face you subtly, and all he says is, “Really?” before breaking into a smirk.

You shoot Sunwoo a deadpan look. “You’re not allowed to judge me. You keep fucking our lead vocalists out of the group!”

As Sunwoo is about to defend himself, Eric’s playful smirk and words cut him off. “Hey, missed a spot?” he quips, at first you narrow your eyes in confusion but then you gulp when you realise he’s talking about the concealer on your neck. A suggestive grin plays on his lips. “Need some help covering up all those hickeys Jeno left all over your neck? I’m sure Nayoung has some concealer in her bag.”

You shoot him a warning look, shushing him with a nervous glance around the room. “Keep it down, Eric,” you hiss, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. “People could be listening.”

Nayoung, always one to push boundaries, takes it a step further. “Hey, do you need to order a new bed frame?” she asks innocently, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. “I’m sure yours has broken after Jeno fucked you in it all night long.”

Eric's teasing hits a nerve, and you can feel the heat rising to your cheeks. "Seriously though, I heard that you were moaning like a bitch in heat," he says with a sly grin, his words laced with mischief.

You roll your eyes, trying to brush off his remarks. "You weren't even there," you retort, hoping to shut down the conversation before it escalates any further.

But Eric wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. "Oh, did you want me to be there? To watch?" he asks, his tone playful yet suggestive. "I didn't have you down as a kinky bitch, Y/N," he adds with a smirk, clearly enjoying getting under your skin.

You huff in frustration. "Oh? You don't want me to watch but to join in? I'm down! And so is Jeno, I heard he lost his virginity to not one girl but two girls... at the same time," Eric continues, his grin widening at the shocked expression on your face.

Nayoung joins in with a chuckle, adding fuel to the fire. "That's not true, he lost it to Arin. But he's had multiple threesomes and orgies," she chimes in, somehow knowing everything about everyone. She even knew who you had lost your virginity to even though you had sworn to keep it a secret.

“Arin?” you respond, taken aback. “Isn’t she the one from our classes with that angelic voice?”

“Yeah she studied music and she’s also a bitch,” Nayoung doesn’t hold back.

You huff. “Really? She looks quite sweet.”

“She’s got talent, sure, but she’s like a snake. All sweet to your face then she strikes when you’re not looking,” she continues with a grimace.

“You’re just pissed because after you fucked Jeno, he ghosted you,” Sunwoo chimes in, unable to resist teasing her.

“Why did he ghost you?” you ask, intrigued by the drama unfolding.

“Because he went back to fucking Arin,” Nayoung says, a hint of bitterness in her voice.

You scratch your neck, ignoring this sinking feeling. “Did they ever actually date?”

Nayoung shrugs. “I don’t think they dated, just fucked. But she’s been the one constant in his bed. Seems like they’re casual fuck buddies, on and off whenever it suits them.”

Sunwoo’s expression catches you off guard, his eyebrows arching in genuine confusion. “Y/N? Are you jealous?” he probes, clearly trying to understand your reaction.

Quick to dispel any misconceptions, you respond firmly, making sure there’s no room for doubt. “No! We only had sex, nothing more. There’s nothing to be jealous over,” you assert, hoping to shut down any further speculation about your feelings towards the situation.

However you can’t supress the swirls of discomfort and confusion inside you, unsettling you more than you'd like to admit. Arin’s history with Jeno, something intense and vaguely defined, gnaws at your peace, leaving you to wonder about the legitimacy of your feelings. Was it valid for you to even be jealous?

But as these thoughts churn, the lounge's doors swing open, and a group of engineering students enters, breaking your inward spiral. Jeno is among them, still dressed in his work attire—an apron dusted from a practical session, and a tool belt loosely hanging around his hips. The engineering gear marks a stark contrast against the casual styles of your graphic tee and jeans, emphasising the divide between your worlds.

Your eyes instinctively find him as he walks in. He's laughing with his friends, completely at ease, seemingly untouched by the intense sex you had just hours ago. He looks so calm, so put together. It's as if he's able to effortlessly recompose himself, while you're still reeling from the memories and his touch. It’s as if the night you shared was just another ordinary event for him.

As Jeno adjusts his apron, a simple yet deliberate action, your gaze inevitably travels to his hands—those same hands that had so expertly explored the depths of you just hours earlier. The casual way he shifts the strap of his tool belt, his fingers brushing against the coarse fabric, vividly conjures memories of how those very fingers had traced your curves and navigated your folds in a way that left you breathless. The memory of his touch, precise and bold, sends a wave of warmth flooding your cheeks, your body involuntarily responding to the mere thought of his proximity.

He casually stretches his fingers, the joints clicking softly in the quiet of the lounge. The sound, distinct and resonant, wasn't loud enough to be heard by others, but your focus is entirely on him. To you, the soft click echoes significantly, a subtle reminder of the way those fingers had moved with such deliberate intent, exploring and memorising every contour of your body with a precision that left an indelible mark on your senses.

Your gaze can't help but follow the motion of his hands up to his forearms. His sleeves are pushed up slightly, revealing forearms marked by prominent veins that stand out against his skin, tracing paths of strength and vitality. These are the arms that had held you with a confident, yet gentle touch, their power barely restrained as they explored you. The casual way he shifts the strap of his tool belt, his fingers brushing against the coarse fabric, each movement of his hands, the visible veins pulsing slightly with each flex, brings back a rush of sensations, the memory of his touch—both precise and bold—sending a wave of warmth flooding your cheeks.

Caught in this reverie, you almost miss the moment he looks up. His eyes meet yours, and for a suspended heartbeat, the world around you blurs into insignificance. His gaze holds a depth that reflects a shared history, mirroring the intensity of your intimate encounter. It's a knowing look, laden with an unspoken promise, silently communicating that he recalls every detail just as vividly as you do.

Eric’s voice breaks through, calling out, “Hey, Jeno!” He motions for him to come over.

As Jeno approaches, the simple tee visible beneath his partly open engineering apron catches your eye again. His full name ‘Lee Jeno.’ was neatly embroidered on the pocket, adding a personal touch to his otherwise utilitarian outfit. With each step he takes, it seems as though the room rearranges itself to accommodate the energy he brings. Despite there being an empty seat next to Nayoung, Jeno bypasses it, choosing instead the space directly beside you. It's a deliberate choice, requiring him to traverse around the table from where he started, signalling his intent to be as close to you as possible.

As he settles down, his body exudes a warmth you can feel even before he fully sits. The proximity is almost too much to handle, his scent—a rich blend of brown sugar, cinnamon, and a hint of citrus, underlined by a masculine note of metal and solder from his engineering lab—fills your senses, making your breath hitch. The unique aroma is both comforting and intoxicating, distinctly Jeno, and unmistakably alluring. The scent takes you back to mere hours before when you both had fucked.

His knee brushes against yours as he adjusts in his seat, the simple touch sending a jolt through your body. You catch your breath, your attempt to focus on anything else utterly futile. Jeno is here, right next to you, and every fibre of your being is acutely aware of his nearness.

Beside you, Eunji leans closer, her expression a mix of amusement and concern. "You okay?" she whispers, noticing the sudden pallor that has overtaken your features. You manage a nod and offer her a shaky smile, trying to mask the turmoil inside.

As Eric yaps on and on, you find his voice a magnetic force. Just focus on Eric, you repeat internally, seeking any lifeline to distract you. But Jeno’s presence is a force impossible to ignore. He leans closer, his body shifting just enough so his knee presses gently against yours under the table.

The subtle contact sends a shiver up your spine as he leans in, his voice a low whisper meant only for your ears, "I didn’t know you were interested in Eric." His words, edged with a teasing undertone, jolt you. The closeness of his mouth to your ear, the warmth of his breath, it all muddles your thoughts

"I… um, he’s fascinating," you reply, your voice a hushed stutter, drowned out almost entirely by the pounding of your heart.

Jeno pulls back slightly, his eyes holding yours in a steady, penetrating gaze that seems to delve deeper than the casual jest warrants. He nods, a slow, thoughtful movement, but the intensity doesn't wane. His eyes linger, searching, as if trying to read the unspoken feelings you're struggling so hard to mask.

“Are your legs okay?” Jeno asks, his tone serious but with an unmistakable undertone of teasing—a playful provocation he seems unable to resist.

You swallow hard, the sudden dryness in your throat making it difficult to speak. With a slight tremor in your voice, you whisper back, “Yeah.”

“Are you sure?” His smile is soft yet knowing, as he leans in closer, his voice dropping to a breathy whisper. Then, almost as if it’s the most natural thing in the world, his hand finds its way to your thigh. His fingers gently press into your skin, starting a slow, deliberate massage that sends waves of both comfort and electric tension through your body.

His eyes lock with yours, holding the gaze intensely. The world around you seems to blur into the background, all sounds fading away except for the intimate space he’s created. As his hand moves subtly, the connection deepens, communicated through that steady, penetrating eye contact that says more than words ever could.

"What are you thinking about?" he asks, his voice low and husky, sending shivers down your spine.

You offer a shy and closed-off response, "Nothing much." But the truth is, your mind is racing with thoughts of him-his touch, his scent, the way he made you feel.

"What about you?" you ask, trying to gauge his thoughts.

With a devilish grin, he leans in closer, his breath hot against your ear. "I can't stop thinking about the way your pussy clenched around my cock when you came. I also can’t get over how good your ass looked bouncing on my cock.” He whispers, his voice dripping with desire.

As Jeno's words swirl around you, suffocating you with their intensity, you gasp for air, feeling the tight grip of panic clenching your chest. Your fingers tighten around the coffee cup, the ceramic surface offering a fleeting sense of stability amidst the whirlwind of sensations. Each breath feels strained, as if the air itself has thickened, making it difficult to draw in the oxygen your body craves. Despite the burning embarrassment prickling at your skin, you cling to the mundane act of sipping your drink, a feeble attempt to anchor yourself.

Sunwoo speaks up from beside you, thankfully shifting the atmosphere with a different topic. "Guys... we need to host auditions for a new lead singer," he announces, clicking off his phone before flicking his eyes between you and Eric, signalling the urgency of the situation.

Nayoung can't help but burst into laughter at Sunwoo's statement. "He's fucked Ryujin so hard she found her way out of the band," she jokes, her comment cutting through the seriousness with her typical irreverence. Her laughter echoes around the group, lightening the mood and drawing a collective chuckle that momentarily dispels the heaviness in your heart.

──────────────────────────────

You’re all in the campus’ performance hall, Spotlights illuminate the stage, casting a warm glow over the polished wooden floors and plush red curtains. You, Sunwoo, and Eric are perched in the judges’ area, positioned strategically to catch every nuance of the performances.

Suddenly, Nayoung rushes into the room with a tray of four steaming coffees, her hurried steps echoing against the polished floor. “I’m sorry I’m late! I’m here now, let’s start!” She shouts as a strand of hair escapes from her bun, framing her delicate features in a soft halo of morning light. Her beauty is striking, even in the early hours of the day. There's an effortless elegance to her appearance, from the way her eyes sparkle with warmth to the curve of her lips as she smiles apologetically.

Nayoung wasn’t a member of the band, and she never had been nor probably ever would be, but she relished the opportunity to judge people, which explained why she always ended up as a judge alongside you, Sunwoo, and Eric.

“Guys, the auditions are starting,” Eric says.

The first person walks in, accompanied by two others. “I thought we were auditioning for a female lead vocalist?” you mumble, confused. But Eric just claps his hands together, excited for what’s to come.

“We’re the Foreign Swaggers,” one of the guys introduces the group name.

“Guys, you know we’re looking for one female lead vocalist, and you guys—” You’re interrupted by Mark Lee, known for being one of the best students in the music department. You know him, you’ve seen him at some parties, he’s friends with Donghyuc who was friends with Sunwoo. Mark was notorious for his talent and popularity among the girls.

“Alright, guys, what’s up,” Mark starts, a hint of nervousness in his voice.

“Yeah,” Jaehyun adds, trying to sound confident.

“What’s up,” Johnny chimes in, his tone more relaxed.

“We’re the, uh— we’re the, uh— Foreign Swaggers,” Mark stutters, trying to maintain composure.

“So, yeah, uh— Johnny’s gonna rap,” Johnny declares.

“I lived in America for four years! That’s why I’m here, man!” Jaehyun boasts.

The audition starts with a beatbox, followed by some mediocre rapping at best. They’re awkward, but there’s a certain charisma about them.

However, Sunwoo cuts them off as soon as their performance ends, not even bothering to judge them. “That’s it, you can go now.” he says hastily, signalling for them to leave.

You were about eight people in, and no one had impressed you yet. No one seemed to fit the image of your band, and you were starting to lose hope. Then, Hwang Yeji walked in, and your eyes lit up, though not as much as Eric and Sunwoo’s. You side-eye them and roll your own eyes, especially as you catch a glimpse of something very familiar in Sunwoo’s eyes—the fire and hunger.

Yeji introduces herself sweetly, with the most beautiful smile and laugh. You hope she can sing well, as visually she matches the image of your band very well. You let out a sigh of relief when she does sing, and she’s really good. Her voice is perfect, and you can already see her in the band.

“I’ve found the voice of an angel. I’ve fallen in love,” Sunwoo breathes heavily, his typical behaviour not surprising you in the least.

“You should view the auditions objectively. You shouldn’t let personal feelings get in the way of your judging,” you say, smirking.

“Shut up,” he replies hastily, unable to deny the truth in your words.

You’re taken aback by the look of genuine admiration in Sunwoo’s eyes. Could it be that he’s actually serious about his feelings for once? You’ve known Sunwoo long enough to recognize when he’s being sincere, and this time, it feels real.

After Yeji finishes her audition, a serene silence envelops the room, filled with admiration and appreciation for her talent. Sunwoo seems ready to offer her the role of lead vocalist on the spot, but you intervene before he can speak.

“Wait,” you interject, ignoring Sunwoo’s eagerness and turning to Yeji with a warm smile. “There’s one more person who wants to audition. Let’s hear her out before making a decision.”

You can feel Sunwoo’s frustration, but you know it’s important to give everyone a fair chance, even if Yeji seems like the perfect fit.

Your heart sinks when you see who walks in —it's Arin. An unsettling feeling washes over you, stirring up uncertainty that you try to push away, but it lingers like a stubborn shadow. She's so radiant and beautiful, exuding an energy and light that's hard to ignore. You understand why she's so popular; she's captivating in every way.

Of course you know who she is—someone in the year above, who seems to have a magnetic pull on everyone around her. All the guys are crazy for her, drawn to her like she's the centre of gravity in the room. And it's not just the guys; even Sunwoo and Eric seem infatuated by her presence, their eyes lingering on her like she's the only thing in the room.

She's sweet, with an infectious laugh and a presence that commands attention. She's the girl every guy wants to fuck and every girl wants to be.

And apparently, she has a beautiful singing voice too?

She's good. Really good. Her voice is like an angel's, filling the room with a captivating melody that earns her instant appreciation from everyone present.

You scoff and shoot a sideways glance at Sunwoo, muttering, "She's so bad."

He just smirks and shakes his head, clearly disagreeing with you. "She's definitely not," Eric chimes in, his voice laced with a dreamy quality that seems to be a common affliction among the guys in the room. Arin has this effect on every single one of them.

Nayoung smirks knowingly and teases, "I thought you didn't care about Jeno fucking her?"

You huff in response, denying any emotional investment in the matter. But no matter how much you try to defend yourself, it's clear that they all think your judgement is clouded by the rumour about Jeno and Arin.

Sunwoo remarks, "You should view the auditions objectively... You shouldn't let personal feelings get in the way of your judgement," he smirks, a reference to your previous words.

──────────────────────────────

As the crisp autumn evening settled over the campus, the university art gallery was abuzz with activity, its warmly lit interior casting a welcoming glow through the expansive glass doors. Tonight, it hosted the annual student art exhibition, a highlight for the arts department and an event that drew a crowd of eager students, local art enthusiasts, and faculty alike.

You, dressed in a favourite band tee that had seen better days and comfortable, well-worn jeans, felt a surge of excitement as you stepped into the gallery with Nayoung at your side. Your casual outfit, coupled with a pair of sturdy sneakers, was perfect for an evening spent on your feet, moving from one display to another.

As you adjusted the strap of your camera bag and pulled out your camera, the bustling art gallery buzzed around you. “Smileee,” you called out to Nayoung, who obliged with a fake grin and a thumbs-up. You rolled your eyes, she did not want to be here. She looked hot though, styled in her black mini dress and brown leather jacket

As you entered the gallery, the air was filled with the murmurs of impressed spectators and the soft, jazzy undertones of background music that added a sophisticated touch to the evening. The exhibition space was vibrant and packed, walls adorned with an array of artworks that ranged from abstract paintings to complex sculptures and daring installations.

Your eyes widened with genuine appreciation as you took in the scene. The exhibition was a canvas of creativity, each piece telling its own vivid story. Driven by your innate love for art, you began to ramble enthusiastically about the techniques and hidden meanings behind various artworks, pointing out the bold strokes and intricate details that might escape the untrained eye.

Nayoung, trailing slightly behind, matched your pace but not your enthusiasm. Her responses were polite, nodding along and offering the occasional “that’s really cool” or “wow,” though it was clear that her interest lay more in the social than the artistic aspects of the event. Despite this, she was there for you, you had dragged her here.

As you delved deeper into the nuances of a particularly captivating installation—a mixed media piece that utilised recycled materials to comment on consumer culture—Nayoung’s attention occasionally drifted. She was more absorbed in scanning the crowd, perhaps looking for familiar faces or simply taking in the overall ambiance.

You couldn’t help but launch into detailed explanations as you moved from one artwork to another, your enthusiasm bubbling over. “See the way the light is captured here?” you pointed out, gesturing toward a series of dramatic black-and-white photographs that explored the interplay of shadow and light. “It’s all about the angle and timing, which is something we discuss a lot in my music composition classes, except we’re capturing sound, not light.”

Nayoung trailed beside you, her interest clearly elsewhere. With a drink already in hand, thanks to the small flask she'd pulled from the pocket of her leather jacket, she took occasional sips, her other hand frequently fishing her phone out to check messages or scroll through her feed.

"Do you ever get tired of talking about brush strokes?" Nayoung teased, an exasperated but playful tone in her voice as she watched you analyze yet another painting. Her question hung in the air, punctuated by her taking another discreet sip from her flask.

Throughout the evening, Nayoung seemed more intent on steering the conversation away from art and towards more personal topics. "So, let's talk about Jeno," she says with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

You sigh inwardly, already anticipating where this conversation is headed. "No," you reply bluntly, hoping to steer the discussion away from your private life.

But Nayoung is undeterred. "Yes!" she insists, her tone teasing.

"So, in what position did he fuck you? How big is his cock?" she asks with a playful smirk, taking a sip of her drink.

You can't help but laugh at her audacity. "Nayoung, you've literally had sex with him. You know how big his cock is," you retort, rolling your eyes.

She tuts mockingly. "Who said I was looking?"

You shoot her a skeptical look. "If I tell you, will you finally leave me alone?" you challenge.

Nayoung nods eagerly, but you can tell she's not entirely sincere in her promise.

"We did it in missionary," you lie smoothly, not wanting to divulge too much. "And his cock? It's about two inches bigger than Eric's," you add truthfully.

Nayoung nearly chokes on her drink, her eyes widening in surprise. "It's that big?" she exclaims, clearly impressed.

You lean in closer, whispering, "You know how big it is! You fucked him too!"

Despite her promise to drop the subject, Nayoung continues to pester you, her questions becoming more probing with each passing moment.

"How was it? Did you feel anything when having sex with him? Anything deeper?" she inquires, her gaze fixated on you with an intensity that makes you uncomfortable.

You shake your head firmly, maintaining your composure. "Absolutely nothing," you lie smoothly, not yet ready to divulge the details of your encounter with Jeno-especially not the parts that still make your heart race just thinking about them.

While you were mid-sentence, breaking down the complexity of an abstract painting that caught your artistic eye, a movement at the entrance abruptly halted your train of thought. Jeno strolled in, he was impossible to miss, He had shifted the room's focus. He moved with an unassuming confidence that drew looks from every corner, a quiet testament to his presence. You watched, just for a moment, as all eyes flickered toward him.

He wore a plain white tee that seemed to accentuate his toned figure, paired with jeans that fit just right. His hair, effortlessly swept back, gave him a look that was both polished and carefree. Jaemin, his best friend, was by his side, the light catching his blonde hair, a relaxed figure in his hoodie. But it was Jeno who had stolen the moment, his mere presence causing your heart to skip a beat and your words to stumble into silence.

Reacting instinctively, you reached out and clasped Nayoung’s arm, diverting her mid-chuckle into a quick detour. “Let’s check out the sculptures,” you said hastily, feeling the weight of Jeno’s unintended intrusion tighten around your chest as you steered both yourself and Nayoung toward a distant corner of the gallery.

Concealed behind the angular shadows of a towering metal sculpture, you and Nayoung stood secluded from the gallery’s hum. Its cool, hard surface offered a strange comfort, a silent ally amidst the turmoil within you. Nayoung’s face, usually so composed, now mirrored concern. “Why are you hiding from him? Haven’t you talked to Jeno since that night?” Her voice, though soft, seemed to fill the entire space around you.

Leaning against the sculpture’s chill offered a small reprieve, its coldness a stark counter to the warmth flushing your skin. Words felt like distant things, hard to grasp, harder to voice. You responded not with words but with a faint shake of your head, the motion carrying the weight of unspoken confessions.

“Y/N, this is messy,” Nayoung said, her voice layered with a mix of reprimand and concern.

“He messages me,” you found your voice, albeit shaky, “tries to talk to me, to come up to me on campus.” The words felt heavy, laden with a confusion that seemed to cloud your thoughts.

Nayoung’s smile flickered with a glimmer of hope. “That’s good, right? It means he’s interested in you,” she reasoned, her smile fading into a frown as she caught the turmoil twisting your features.

You sucked in a breath, feeling trapped in the sculpture’s cast shadow, a dim refuge from the gallery’s soft lights. “I don’t know how to face him,” you admitted, your whisper barely rising above the hush of distant conversations. “That night was overwhelming, and now… now I’m just lost.”

“Why are you so scared if that night meant nothing to you?” Nayoung probed gently, her fingers interlacing with yours in a solid, warm grip.

You covered your face with your free hand, rubbing at your eyes as if you could wipe away the uncertainty. “I don’t know what it meant. I’m confused. It’s all just so intense, so much for my heart… I’ve never felt this way, and it’s terrifying.” The words tumbled out, a chaotic mix of fear and longing. “Every time I close my eyes, I see him.”

“I’m scared, Nayoung. I’m scared of what I’m feeling, of what all this might mean.” Your words hung suspended, resonating with the same enduring presence as the art around you.

Nayoung didn’t release your hand; instead, she drew you closer, a pillar of support in the echoing vastness of the gallery. “It’s okay to be scared,” she assured you. “But hiding here won’t answer any of your questions. You can’t let fear hold you back.” Her encouragement was soft but firm, a gentle push toward the clarity you so desperately needed.

You nod. As you step backward, ready to leave the comfort of the sculpture’s shadow, your movement is abruptly halted by a solid, unexpected barrier. A quick gasp escapes your lips as you spin around, words of apology already forming, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t—”

Your voice trails off when you see it’s Jeno you’ve bumped into. His presence, so close and unexpected, sends a jolt through you that’s part shock, part something more electric. For a split second, you’re frozen.

He stands mere inches away, his expression initially mirroring the tired detachment you’ve seen in Nayoung’s eyes tonight, suggesting he’d rather be anywhere but here. But the moment his gaze meets yours, something shifts. There’s a flicker of something more intense, more profound.

Your eyes lock with his for a fleeting second, and in that brief exchange, his look deepens, becoming electric and unreadable. The air around you thickens as if charged by this sudden connection, leaving your heart pounding not just with nervousness but with a bewildering rush of emotions that you can’t quite decipher. His presence envelops you, intense and palpable, drawing you into a moment you both seem reluctant to break, yet overwhelmed to sustain.

Jeno, dressed casually but looking every bit the effortless figure who haunts your quieter moments, just smiles slightly. His voice, when he speaks, is soft and carries an undertone of warmth that only adds to your turmoil. “It’s a beautiful sculpture, isn’t it?” he comments, his eyes lingering on yours, trying to capture your gaze.

You notice the slight upturn of his lips—a knowing, almost teasing smirk that suggests he might understand more than he lets on. But you can’t hold his gaze, your eyes darting away after a fleeting, charged moment of eye contact that sends an array of sensations coursing through you. It’s too much, too intense—every nerve ending seems to scream, your skin tingling from the nearness of him.

With a rushed, barely audible excuse, you stutter, “Sorry, gotta get to the lecture!!!” Your hand shoots out, finding Nayoung’s, and without waiting for a response, you pull her away from Jeno and the sculpture, eager to escape into the crowd. Nayoung follows without protest, casting an amused glance back at Jeno, who stands there watching you leave, his expression unreadable.

As you navigate through the throng of people, your pulse racing, you don’t dare look back. The brief interaction leaves you with a flood of emotions you’re not ready to dissect—not here, not now. Nayoung remains silent beside you, her presence a comforting constant as you put distance between yourself and Jeno. Your escape feels both like a victory and a defeat, the complex emotions swirling inside you mirroring the intricate artworks you leave behind.

Nayoung’s laughter echoed in the otherwise quieting atmosphere of the lecture hall as you both settled into the back left corner. “Would you stop?” you whispered harshly, crossing your arms and sinking lower into your seat, though a secret smile tugged at your lips for securing such a strategically secluded spot.

“I’m just happy we got the best seats in the house,” you added with a pout, pretending to sulk yet relieved by the thought that Jeno wouldn’t easily spot you here.

The hall gradually filled, the buzz of conversation growing as students gathered. Your heart skipped a beat when Jeno walked in, accompanied by Jaemin. They took seats a few rows ahead, seemingly unaware of your presence. You let out a silent breath, hoping to remain unnoticed.

Professor Doyoung, widely recognized as the best arts professor at the university, began the lecture with his usual charismatic flair. Today’s session was special—a celebration of student achievements, spotlighting various art pieces and sculptures. The room dimmed slightly as the projector lit up with images of student artwork.

Your pulse quickened when a photo of your own creation appeared on the screen. The room filled with murmurs of admiration, but your own heart pounded for an entirely different reason. “And here we have an outstanding piece by one of our brightest students,” Professor Doyoung announced, his voice filling the lecture hall with enthusiastic approval. “This innovative work was created by none other than Y/N, whose artistic vision and execution have consistently impressed us.”

As he showered you with praise, detailing the depth and creativity behind your work, a sense of pride mixed with intense embarrassment washed over you. It was meant to be an anonymous exhibition, yet here was Professor Doyoung, breaking protocol because he believed certain students deserved recognition for their efforts.

While you appreciated the acknowledgment, your cheeks burned hotter when Professor Doyoung, spotting you trying to sink further into your seat, pointed you out to the entire auditorium. “Let’s give a round of applause to Y/N, sitting right at the back there, for such a brilliant contribution!”

The audience’s applause thundered in your ears, but it was the sound of bodies shifting and heads turning that heightened your anxiety. Jeno turned around, his eyes scanning the crowd before settling on you. When your gazes locked, a silent jolt of electricity shot through you. His expression transformed from casual interest to a more intense, unreadable look, tinged with a hint of a smile that seemed both knowing and curious.

The world around you seemed to blur into the background as the two of you maintained eye contact. The warmth of his smile, despite the distance, sent waves of nerves dancing up your spine, mixing with a thrill that you couldn’t quite suppress. You felt exposed yet oddly seen, the kind of visibility that made your stomach twist yet somehow left you wanting more.

You averted your gaze first, looking down at your lap as your face heated up. Beside you, Nayoung nudged you gently, a silent gesture of support—or perhaps encouragement to acknowledge the connection you obviously had with Jeno, one that seemed to extend beyond mere academic coincidences.

The lecture continued, but your mind was elsewhere, caught up in the whirlwind of emotions triggered by that brief yet impactful exchange of looks with Jeno. Your heart still raced, not just from the public praise but because of him.

After the lecture, you spot Jaemin lingering near the front of the room. Despite sharing a few classes, your interactions had always been casual—pleasant exchanges about coursework and occasional class discussions. Jaemin was known for his calm demeanor, a stark contrast to Jeno’s more dynamic presence. Now, with your recent involvement with Jeno weighing on your mind, you find yourself curious about their friendship. They seemed like opposites yet clearly got along so well, everyone knew they were best friends, brothers even. Perhaps it was true what they said about opposites attracting.

As you’re methodically packing up your things, Jaemin approaches with a gentle ease that diminishes the room’s formality. His presence feels like a quiet reassurance in the noisy aftermath of the lecture.

“He went ahead, you don’t need to worry,” Jaemin says softly, noticing the tightness in your expression. It catches you off-guard how observant he is, how he seems to catch even the subtlest shifts in your mood.

You gulp, a bit flustered by his insight. “I—”

“I think he’s really intrigued by you, you know,” Jaemin continues, his voice warm and encouraging. “I don’t know why, but he seems genuinely interested in getting to know you better. You always seem to run the other way, though.” His smile is gentle, nudging you towards reconsideration without pushing too hard. “Maybe you should give him a chance; Jeno’s actually a decent guy.”

“I’m not intentionally trying to avoid him,” you confess, the words tumbling out in a rush. “He just… makes me nervous.”

Jaemin’s chuckle is soft, a sound that spreads calm. He reaches out, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder for a fleeting moment, grounding you. “He makes everyone nervous at first. You get used to it,” he reassures, his touch light but affirming. “Who knows, you might even start to like it. I know I like it.” You can’t help but giggle when he wiggles his eyebrows suggestively.

“I know it might seem like he’s intense, and yeah, he’s serious when it comes to things and people he cares about. But he’s also really chill once you get to know him better. He’s the kind of person you’d want in your corner,” he explains, his tone earnest.

“He doesn’t just give his attention and effort to anyone,” Jaemin continues, his eyes locking with yours to emphasise his point. “So don’t take it for granted or push him away. You might lose his interest forever, and trust me, you’d miss it. He’s someone you really want in your life. He's a really good guy..”

His comforting grin lingers as he steps back, giving you space to process his words. With a friendly nod, Jaemin walks away, leaving a trail of thoughtfulness behind him. His advice resonates with you, stirring a mix of anticipation and resolve. Maybe, just maybe, it was time to confront your nerves and see where things with Jeno could lead.

──────────────────────────────

The crisp morning air nips at your skin as you traverse the campus pathway, lost in the world curated by your playlist. With every sip of your coffee, you feel the warmth spread through you, contrasting with the coolness of the day. Your steps are unhurried, a rare moment of solitude embraced amidst the hustle of your life.

Suddenly, a gentle tap on your shoulder pulls you from your reverie. You pull out one earbud, turning to see Jeno standing behind you. Despite the flutter in your stomach, you remember Jaemin’s words: Don’t push him away. Taking a deep breath, you muster a smile, not just any smile, but one that reaches your eyes, showing Jeno you’re here in this moment with him.

“Hey,” Jeno greets, his voice smooth, drawing a line of warmth up your spine despite the autumn chill.

You manage a nod, trying to appear composed. “Hi, Jeno,” you reply, your voice steadier than you feel. His gaze is intense, and you find yourself unable to meet his eyes directly, focusing instead slightly over his shoulder.

As you walk together, Jeno’s voice breaks through the crisp air. “I’ve been trying to talk to you for the last month now…”

Every attempt he made to bridge the gap between you was met with your nervous laughter or hasty excuses. His presence—so wanted yet so overwhelming—left you fumbling, your words tripping over your rapid heartbeat. But today you would handle things differently.

Or so you wished.

His voice seemed to blend into the background, making it difficult to focus. “Are you free this weekend?” he asked, a simple question that felt loaded with possibilities. Is he asking you out? Or is this just casual?

The campus around you felt unusually constricted as pairs of eyes turned to follow your interaction, their stares prickling uncomfortably on your skin. The judgmental looks from passing students, especially from girls who eyed you with undisguised envy or disdain, made it challenging to concentrate on Jeno’s words.

Jeno closes the distance between you with a measured step, his presence enveloping you in a subtle but undeniable warmth. His fingers tuck a stray hair behind your ear, the contact tender yet anchoring, pulling you back to the moment. His eyes lock onto yours, his voice a soothing whisper, “Just ignore them. Just look at me.”

Your breath catches, the simple command resonating deeply as you murmur, “But they’re all looking at me. At us,” your voice trembles in the air.

He smiles softly, his thumbs gently stroking your cheeks as he holds your face with a careful, affectionate grip. “And I want you to look at me,” he insists, his gaze steady and piercing, radiating a calm confidence that makes your heart race yet somehow reassures you.

As Jeno's hands gently cradle your face, his thumbs softly caressing your skin, you find yourself nodding as he tells you to focus on him… The steady throb of your heart begins to calm, settling into a rhythm that feels less frantic, more in tune with the moment. Your eyes lock with his, and as you let yourself truly look at him, all fears begin to melt away. You lean slightly into the warmth of his touch, the tension in your body easing as you allow yourself to be anchored by his presence.

“Are you coming to Sunwoo’s party tonight?” he asks casually, his hands resting gently on your shoulders.

You give a small nod. “Maybe.”

“I hope you’re there,” he says, his tone sincere. “It gives me a reason to go.” He’s always so honest.

“Eric will be dealing, are you sure that’s not reason enough?”

He smirks. “Close second.”

──────────────────────────────

“It’s too much,” Yeji giggles shyly, running her hands over the dress she was going to wear tonight, in awe of the beautiful decorations and sparkles.

Her eyes moved to the brand new microphone Sunwoo had gifted her to congratulate her for winning the auditions and becoming the newest member of the band. “It's definitely too much, I didn't anticipate or expect any of this.”

You shake your head. “It’s not too much, you deserve it all.”

“Plus the dress is stunning, you’ll look beautiful,” you add. The dress was quite out there, adorned with sparkles and glitters. Yeji was definitely going to stand out and be the star of the show. “How did you get a dress as beautiful as that?” you ask.

“I don’t know… it just turned up to my door with a note telling me to wear it!” she responds.

“Sunwoo,” you respond immediately.

You both laugh. You know why he’s throwing this party randomly, with no warning or planning. It’s a surprise party for her, celebrating her joining the band. Sunwoo is welcoming her.

“I bet he buys dresses for all his girls,” she rolls her eyes as she slips into the dress.

“No, he doesn’t,” you say matter-of-factly, shaking your head in astonishment. Yeji was different for him. You could already feel that.

Applying the prettiest shade of pink to her cheeks, you couldn’t help but admire how blush looked so beautiful on Yeji. It complemented her complexion perfectly, adding a touch of radiance to her already glowing skin. As she examined herself in the mirror, a smile lit up her face, and you knew she was going to steal the show tonight.

“Aren’t you going?” she questioned, her eyes glancing over your pyjamas and messy bun.

You sighed softly, feeling the weight of exhaustion and a slight headache creeping in. “I don’t feel well,” you admitted, hoping she’d understand.

“No, you have to come. I’ll be nervous all there by myself,” she pleaded, her voice tinged with genuine concern.

Despite your reluctance, you couldn’t resist her puppy-dog eyes and the genuine warmth in her voice. Yeji had a way of making even the most mundane moments feel special, and you didn’t want to disappoint her.

“You won’t be by yourself,” you assured her with a smile, knowing Sunwoo and Eric would be there to keep her company.

Yeji was a new student, still adjusting to the rhythm of college life, but she had quickly become a familiar presence. Her easygoing nature and infectious enthusiasm had won over the hearts of many, including yours.

But she’s so sweet, and you couldn’t bear to see her disappointed.

“I’ll come,” you relented, knowing that her smile was worth it.

Her eyes lit up with excitement, and she practically bounced off the bed. “We need to get you ready,” she declared, already bustling around the room, gathering clothes and makeup.

As Yeji helps you pick out what to wear, her eyes light up when she spots a particular outfit. “This,” she exclaims, her gaze hungry as she holds up a daringly bold ensemble.

You feel your cheeks flush crimson at the sight of the revealing outfit. “That’s way too much,” you protest, feeling a mixture of embarrassment and excitement at her suggestion.

“But you’ll look so sexy though!” she insists, her excitement infectious as she imagines you rocking the outfit.

Despite your reservations, you can’t deny the thrill of the idea. “I don’t want to draw too much attention…” you murmur, but Yeji is already convincing you otherwise.

In the end, you settle on the cherry blossom pink mini dress she picked out, the soft hue flattering your complexion perfectly. As you change into the outfit, you can’t help but feel a surge of confidence wash over you. You opted for minimal makeup, you wanted to enhance your natural features, and soon you’re both admiring the stunning result in the mirror.

“Your wardrobe is so daring,” Yeji remarks, her eyes scanning through your clothes with awe.

─────��────────────────────────

As you step into Sunwoo’s house, a wave of nervousness washes over you despite how familiar you are to this house. It’s practically your second home, yet tonight feels different somehow.

A rush of color and a buzz of activity immediately greet you. You walk through the entryway bathed in vibrant lighting that casts dynamic shadows across the textured, dark-stained wooden walls. The decorations hanging there are bold and modern, each piece making a statement with its bright colours and daring strokes.

Beneath your feet, dark hardwood floors stretch out, absorbing the light and noise, giving the house a grounded, almost intimate feel. In the living area, a group of people lounge on oversized furniture, upholstered in deep, rich tones, chatting over glasses of chilled drinks pulled from stacked ice coolers that blend seamlessly into the decor.

You walk to the backyard where the atmosphere shifts from subdued luxury to a lively party scene. The garden is lit by strategically placed neon lights that highlight the lush greenery with an almost surreal glow. Music pulses in the background, the bassline vibrating softly underfoot.

It was a chaotic blur of vibrant colours, pulsating music, and energetic bodies moving to the rhythm. The air is thick with the smell of alcohol and the haze of cigarette smoke, mingling with the scent of drugs and anticipation.

The sight of so many people, each lost in their own world of intoxication and euphoria, is both exhilarating and nerve-wracking. Everywhere you look, there are couples making out, friends sharing laughter and secrets, and strangers forging connections in the dimly lit corners of the room.

Amidst the chaos, you catch sight of Sunwoo, his expression dazed and his movements sluggish as he navigates through the crowd. He spots you and stumbles over, enveloping you in a drunken hug. “You actually came!” he slurs, planting a sloppy kiss on your forehead before his attention is quickly diverted to Yeji, already taking her hand and leading her somewhere.

As you weave through the lively crowd, the familiar laughter of Nayoung and Eunji draws you in like a beacon. You break into a wide smile, the tension melting away as soon as you see them, both teetering slightly, drinks in hand, their laughter filling the air.

“Heyyyy!” you shout over the music as you approach, arms open wide. They spot you and immediately stumble forward, nearly spilling their drinks in their excitement.

Eunji, with a tipsy grin, throws her arms around you, pulling you into a wobbly hug. “Oh my god, look at you, gorgeous!” she squeals, squeezing you tight. Nayoung joins in, her arms encircling both of you, her laughter contagious.

“We’ve been waiting for you!” Nayoung exclaims, her words slurring just a bit. She steps back to give you a once-over, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Look at you!!!” She whistles, holding your hand above and twirling you around.

As Jaemin’s advice echoes in your mind, you find yourself fully immersed in the party atmosphere. Surrounded by the pulsing lights and thumping bass, you allow yourself to embrace the carefree spirit of the night. You’re a college student—young, pretty, and ready to let loose. If everyone else can dive into the highs of a college party, why shouldn’t you?

One step at a time. You want to take things slow tonight, hoping to eventually join Nayoung and Eunji on the dance floor, dancing and laughing without a care. But for now, you need a few more drinks to help shake off your inhibitions. Sitting beside Eric, who's thankfully keeping you company, you feel a bit more anchored. He hands you a cup filled with your favourite drink—your first for the evening and hopefully the first of many.

"Y/N, I might be going crazy but everyone seems to be staring at you," he whispers, close enough for only you to hear. You hum in response, your eyes scanning the room. He's right. Unlike other nights where you blended into the background, tonight it feels like you're under a spotlight. Is it because of your earlier encounter with Jeno on campus? That thought unsettles you as you realise people had stared then, and they’re obviously staring now.

Not quite drunk enough to completely let go of your inhibitions, you feel the weight of the stares pushing you to the edge. "Let's dance!!!" you suddenly exclaim, seizing Eric's arm and pulling him towards the dance floor where Nayoung and Eunji are already lost in the rhythm. Eric follows, his surprise evident but quickly morphing into enthusiasm as you both join the lively crowd.

You join Nayoung and Eunji on the dance floor, their bodies moving freely to the rhythm of the music. Joining them, the three of you fall into sync, bodies swaying and twirling in a shared rhythm. The energy is infectious, and soon Eric joins in, the four of you forming a tight circle.

Laughter and song blend as you dance, the music enveloping you completely. There’s a moment of pure joy as you all grind against each other, singing at the top of your lungs, the world outside fading away. Tonight, it’s just you, your friends, and the music—nothing else matters.​

The relentless pace of the party begins to wear on you, and you wonder how your fellow students manage this every weekend. As your head starts to spin and a wave of dizziness washes over you, you realize you need a break. Muttering a quick excuse, you make your way to the quieter snacks section to catch your breath and steady yourself.

You smile when you see one of your favourite snacks, content to just munch on it, knowing Sunwoo got it just for you. Suddenly, he appears and checks on you, prompting a playful eye roll from you when you realise he’s been absent for the entire night. He was the host and was normally present but he was clearly occupied with Yeji.

You notice lipstick stains scattered across Sunwoo's neck, prompting a raised eyebrow from you. "You already fucked Yeji? Sunwoo, she hasn't even been in the band for a month—"

Sunwoo interrupts, "I haven't fucked her yet. We're just chilling in my room."

Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "Really?"

He smiles, nodding. "Yeah. I want to take it slow. I really like her."

Sunwoo puts his arm around your back, concern evident in his voice as he asks, "Are you okay? You look tired. You can go and rest in one of the spare rooms; if anyone's fucking there, I'll kick them out."

You raise an eyebrow, teasing, "You'll walk in on them having sex?"

He shrugs nonchalantly, but you barely register his response. Your attention is suddenly captured by someone else.

Jeno.

He's here, partying, and he looks hot. Your eyes instantly gravitate towards him, taking in his appearance. Jeno is wearing a fitted button down shirt that manages to accentuate his muscles and toned chest, a chain dangling from his neck, adding to his appeal.

You’re engulfed in a whirlwind of emotions, your heart somersaulting within your chest, each beat a drumroll of anticipation. A nervous energy courses through your veins, setting your skin ablaze with a feverish heat, as if every nerve ending is on high alert, tingling with anticipation. Despite your attempts to remain composed, you can’t shake the feeling of butterflies fluttering wildly in the pit of your stomach, a chaotic dance of excitement and nervousness.

He’s in his element, downing shots with ease, his movements fluid and effortless. Girls press against him, grinding against him, each one vying for his attention. Laughter fills the air and his smile makes your heart twist, his presence is so magnetic and captivating. Despite the chaos around him, he’s the calm in the storm, his confidence unwavering as he basks in the attention of those around him.

The party’s intensity overwhelms you as much as you don’t want to admit it. You can’t help but feel suffocated amidst the pounding music and throngs of people. You need a break. So, you slip away to one of the rooms in Sunwoo’s vast house, seeking solace from the chaos. You were sure no one would find you here, Sunwoo’s house was massive so it was easy to hide away.

This dimly lit room on the lowest floor is your sanctuary, a hidden refuge from the party’s noise. Sinking onto the plush couch, you find comfort in its soft cushions. Closing your eyes, you let out a sigh, feeling the weight of the world lift from your shoulders.

Surrounded by silence, your thoughts fill the space. Reflecting on the evening, you wish you could shed your self-consciousness, to join the fun without fear of judgement. But anxiety holds you back, trapping you in doubt.

Taking a deep breath, you try to let go. In this quiet room, you find peace, if only for a moment, amidst the chaos outside.

Parties always felt like too much for you. The noise, the crowds, the energy—it all overwhelmed you. You'd stand there awkwardly, like a wallflower, while everyone else seemed to thrive in the chaos. You wished you could just let loose, have fun without worrying so much.

The door creaks open, breaking the silence of the empty room. Startled, you look up to see Jeno standing there, his presence filling the space with an unexpected intensity. His eyes meet yours, and for a moment, time seems to stand still as the connection between you sparks to life. You feel a flutter in your chest, an electrifying sensation that makes your breath catch in your throat. Unable to hold his gaze, you quickly look away, feeling a rush of heat flood your cheeks.

As Jeno steps into the room, his energy is different from the chaotic atmosphere of the party. It’s composed, calm, yet brimming with an underlying intensity that sends shivers down your spine. There’s something unspoken in the air, a silent understanding that hangs between you, pulling you closer despite the distance.

He takes a seat beside you, and when you steal a glance at him, you find his eyes already locked onto yours. The intensity of his gaze sends a jolt of electricity through you, and you can’t help but feel drawn to him, as if there’s an invisible thread connecting you both.

As his gaze bores into yours, it feels like he’s peeling away the layers of your soul, seeing you for who you truly are. It’s intense, electric, sending shivers down your spine and igniting a fire deep within. His eyes hold a mixture of curiosity, desire, and a hint of something more profound, leaving you breathless and longing for more.

In a soft voice that sends tingles down your spine, he asks, “Why aren’t you enjoying yourself? Why did you come?” His words are laced with concern, genuine and caring, yet there’s an underlying tone of desire that makes your heart race.

You can’t help but laugh nervously, the sound echoing in the quiet room. “I came for my friends, but I already regret it… I don’t know why I can’t let myself have fun, I really don’t know… I tried to let loose but I just can’t.” Your voice trails off, filled with uncertainty and self-doubt.

His response is like a bolt of lightning, unexpected and thrilling. “That’s a shame… The prettiest girl here tonight should be enjoying herself,” he says, his words dripping with charm and confidence. The way he looks at you, coupled with his bold statement, sends a rush of heat straight to your core.

Feeling a mixture of surprise and desire, you meet his gaze head-on, your eyes locking in a silent exchange filled with unspoken longing. “I-I…” you stutter, unable to form coherent words as his proximity overwhelms you. “I… thank you,” you manage to whisper, your cheeks flushing with heat as you avert your gaze, feeling his intense presence enveloping you like a warm embrace.

“But I’m definitely not the prettiest girl here tonight, not even close. Have you seen Yeji? Or Nayoung and Eunji? Or Karina? I even saw you dancing with her, and I don’t blame you if you left with her tonight because she’s breathtaking and—” Your words tumble out in a rush, cheeks flushing crimson as you realise how much you’ve said. Fortunately, he cuts you off with a forward tone, sending your heart racing again.

“You’re prettier than all of them,” he declares, his words laced with confidence and desire.

“Why aren’t you partying right now? Did you follow me here?” you question, narrowing your eyes at him. His chuckle sends shivers down your spine as he shakes his head. “I was partying, then I saw you and realised you were here. I saw Sunwoo with you and got distracted. I didn’t follow you, I just wanted to find a room that no one would be in, and that’s how I came here…” His words hang in the air, leaving you speechless and breathless.

As he moves closer, you feel your pulse quicken, his presence overwhelming yet comforting. “Why can’t you look me in the eyes?” he asks softly, his fingers gently lifting your chin to meet his gaze. You try to avert your eyes, but his touch guides your focus back to him.

“Why do you always look at me like that?” you finally muster the courage to whisper, the intensity of his gaze leaving you feeling exposed and vulnerable.

“Like what?” he replies, his tone smug yet enticing, as if he’s enjoying the effect he has on you.

“Like you’ve seen me naked,” the words spill out, unfiltered and honest, hanging between you in the charged air. It feels like a confession, a secret desire laid bare, but instead of recoiling, he leans in closer, a smirk playing on his lips.

Without a word, he closes the distance between you, capturing your lips in a heated passion that sends sparks flying. His lips are warm and demanding against yours, moulding perfectly to fit as if they were made to kiss yours. The taste of him is intoxicating, a heady mix of brown sugar and whiskey that ignites a fire within you. Your hands instinctively find their way to the back of his neck, fingers tangling in his soft hair as you pull him closer, deepening the kiss.

There's a primal hunger in the way he kisses you, a raw, animalistic need that leaves you breathless and wanting more. His tongue dances with yours in a tantalising rhythm, exploring every crevice of your mouth as if he's trying to imprint himself on you.

Moans escape your lips as the kiss grows more fervent, the passion between you reaching a fever pitch. With a low growl, Jeno's hands roam over your body, tracing every curve and contour with deliberate intent. His touch ignites a fire within you, sending shivers down your spine as his fingers trail up and down your back, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

You can feel the heat between your bodies intensifying, the urgency of desire driving you closer together. As he pulls you onto his lap, you straddle him eagerly, the hardness of his arousal pressing against you, a potent reminder of the passion between you.

With each movement, Jeno grinds against you, his hips rocking in perfect synchrony with yours, creating a rhythm that sets your heart racing. The friction between your bodies sends waves of pleasure coursing through you, building the intensity of your desire with every touch. His hands guide your movements, urging you to grind against him with increasing urgency

"Good girl," he whispers against your ear, his voice husky with desire, sending a shiver of anticipation down your spine. His words fuel the fire burning between you, igniting a primal hunger that demands to be sated.

You reach for the buttons of his shirt, unbuttoning with urgency while still grinding against him, your ass meeting his clothed thighs with every bounce. His hands grip the flesh underneath your dress, and you feel the tension in the air as you both lose yourselves in the moment. With a swift motion, his shirt is off, discarded in the heat of the passion that envelops you both.

As you look into his eyes, you see the same emotions reflected — lust, longing, want and need. You're consumed by the desire to pleasure him, to take him to the heights of ecstasy and beyond. With a primal urge coursing through your veins, you drop to your knees before him.

As you look up at him, a playful and innocent smile dancing on your lips, he groans in response, his reaction uncontrolled and raw. His moans escape him in a series of loud, guttural sounds, each one filled with the urgency of his desire and the pleasure coursing through him.

With a confident hand, you unzip his jeans, anticipation building with each tug of the zipper, until they're open and his arousal is straining against the fabric of his boxers. Pressing open-mouthed kisses to the fabric covering his cock, you revel in the feeling of his hardness beneath your lips, the heat of his desire seeping through the fabric. His reaction is immediate, a guttural groan escaping him as he feels your warm breath against his skin, the promise of pleasure tantalisingly close.

With a wicked grin, you tease him further, nipping at the edge of his boxers before slowly sliding them down, revealing his throbbing length in all its glory. The sight of him, hard and ready for you, only fuels your own desire, igniting a hunger that demands to be sated.

"You're driving me insane," he growls, his voice thick with desire as he locks eyes with you, the intensity of the moment igniting a fire between you. "Now, are you gonna suck my cock like the good girl you are?"

With a smirk playing on his lips, he teases you with his cock, tracing the tip along your parted lips. He grips his hardness firmly, using it to lightly slap against your eager mouth, the sensation sending shivers of excitement down your spine. Your mouth hangs open, ready and waiting for him, aching to feel him fill you completely.

With a hungry urgency, you take him into your mouth, your lips wrapping around him as you sink down onto his hardness. You touch each other all over, your hands exploring his body while his fingers tangle in your hair,

Your head bobs rhythmically, your mouth working him with skill and determination, each movement eliciting loud grunts and moans from him. He guides your movements with his hands, urging you to take him deeper, to suck him harder, to drive him to the brink of ecstasy.

"Fuck, that's it," he groans, his voice thick with desire as he watches you pleasure him. "Just like that, baby, take me all the way."

You comply eagerly, your hand tight around his length as you stroke and tease him, syncing your movements with the rhythm of your mouth for maximum pleasure. His rough and primal sounds of pleasure fill the air, spurring you on as you work him towards release.

But he wants more, needs more. With a sudden roughness, he tightens his grip on your hair, pulling you closer until your head is arched back, your neck exposed for him to take control. With a makeshift ponytail in his grasp, he guides your movements, angling your head for a better angle as he thrusts into your mouth with renewed intensity.

You surrender to his dominance, letting him guide you as he thrusts deeper into your mouth, each movement driving you both closer to the edge. Your senses are overwhelmed by the taste, the scent, the feeling of him filling you completely, and you revel in the primal pleasure of giving yourself over to him entirely.

"Fuck yes," he growls, his voice a primal command as he takes control. "Suck my cock, just like that. I want to feel you swallow me whole."

His grunts and moans grow louder, more urgent, as he approaches the pinnacle of his ecstasy. With one final, powerful thrust, he releases himself into your waiting mouth,

As you take his cum, you look up at him with eyes that are both desperate and satisfied, your mouth aching for more of him even as you savour the taste of his release. “That’s it, baby.” He strokes your hair softly, relishing in the feeling of you tasting his cum.

He whispers huskily, "take it all, baby... swallow every fucking drop."

You gaze up at him with a mix of desire and vulnerability, your eyes pleading and soft. He feels a primal urge stir deep within him. The sight of you, so desperately wanting, ignites a fire in his veins and a fluttering feeling in his chest.

With a growl of need, he effortlessly lifts you from the floor, his strength undeniable as he pulls you into his arms. Lowering you onto his lap, he holds you close, his hands roaming over your body with possessive urgency. Each touch is rough yet tender, a silent declaration of his desire to claim you as his own. And as he pulls you closer, the heat between you intensifies, the air thick with anticipation and need.

In his hold, your bodies meld together, hips moving in a primal rhythm, grinding against each other with an urgency that borders on desperation. As your lips meet, it's a clash of tongues and teeth, a passionate exchange that leaves you both breathless. Moans and sighs escape between kisses, mingling with the sound of your heavy breathing as you lose yourselves in the moment.

Breaking apart briefly, you pant against his lips, your desire evident in every ragged breath. "I wanna fuck you so badly, please," you whisper, your voice a husky plea.

With a low growl of desire, he meets your gaze, his eyes smouldering with need. "Ride my cock, baby," he commands, his voice rough with urgency as he guides your hips, urging you to take control.

His hands move with purpose as he pulls your dress up to bunch around your waist. His fingers deftly unzip the back of your dress, exposing your back and revealing your breasts, a sight that only fuels his desire further. With a primal need, he leans down to pepper kisses along your exposed neck, his lips trailing a path of fire along your skin.

You feel the pulsating heat of his arousal throbbing against your dripping core as you lower yourself onto his cock. A primal moan escapes his lips as you take him deep inside, your walls greedily enveloping him in a tight, wet embrace. With each downward thrust, you revel in the sensation of him stretching you, filling you completely, sending sparks of ecstasy coursing through your veins.

"That’s it," he groans, his voice husky with desire as he grips your hips, urging you to ride him harder. "You take me so well." He praises, leaning forward to press a kiss to your cheek.

Your bodies move together in a frenzied rhythm, the sound of your skin slapping against his filling the room with the symphony of your passion. Each thrust sends waves of pleasure crashing over you, your senses overwhelmed by the intoxicating heat between you.

Your breasts bounce in front of him, a tempting display that drives him wild with need. He reaches up to grasp them, his fingers kneading and teasing your sensitive flesh, sending bolts of pleasure shooting straight to your core.

"You’re so fucking hot," he growls, his voice rough with urgency as he meets your gaze, his eyes burning with unbridled lust.

With each bounce on his cock, you relentlessly ride him, your bodies colliding with the sound of skin slapping against skin. The sensation of him filling you completely, stretching you to your limits, is overwhelming, a delicious tightness that leaves you breathless with desire.

Jeno can't help but marvel at how impossibly tight you feel around him. Every inch of his cock is enveloped in the warm, velvety embrace of your pussy, sending shivers of pleasure coursing through him with each thrust.

Your walls grip him with an intensity that leaves him breathless, a sensation so exquisite it borders on agonizing. He can feel every twitch, every ripple of your inner muscles as you ride him relentlessly, driving him to the brink of ecstasy with your insatiable hunger.

As the intensity of your rhythm escalates, the impending release becomes undeniable. "Jeno, Jeno," you gasp, your voice barely audible as you cling to him, the sensations overwhelming.

He meets your gaze with a primal hunger, his own need evident in the depths of his eyes. "I know, I know," he growls, his voice strained with urgency. With synchronised movements, you both reach the peak together. Your bodies tremble with the force of your climax, every nerve ending ablaze with pleasure.

"I'm cumming!" you cry out, your voice echoing in the room as your walls clamp down around him, milking him for every drop of pleasure. Jeno's own release follows suit, his moans mingling with yours as he spills himself into you, filling you with his warmth.

As you reach up to gently brush the hair away from his face, you notice a change in Jeno’s demeanour. His features soften, his expression becoming more relaxed and carefree under your touch. An unspoken tension, one that he didn’t even realise he was carrying, was released, leaving him looking more casual and at ease. Under your hold, you can feel the satisfaction coursing through you, you did this to him.

“Are you tired?” he asks sweetly, his voice laced with concern as he looks down at you.

You shake your head with a shy smile, reassured by the warmth in his gaze.

But before you can say anything else, he surprises you by suddenly lifting you effortlessly into his arms, turning you around with a speed that leaves you yelping in surprise. The sudden movement catches you off guard, a rush of exhilaration and excitement coursing through you as you find yourself wrapped up in his embrace.

As Jeno holds you in his arms, you feel a surge of exhilaration mixed with a potent cocktail of desire and trust. His strong and steady embrace grounds you, his warmth enveloping you in a sense of security and anticipation.

“Do you trust me, beautiful?” His whispered words send shivers down your spine. You nod eagerly in response. His kiss on the side of your head ignites a fire within you, fueling your desire and surrender.

Positioning himself behind you, Jeno aligns his throbbing cock with your eager entrance. With a primal growl that resonates deep within your core, he thrusts forward, driving deep into you as he supports your weight effortlessly.

His hands grip your hips firmly, guiding the rhythm of your movements with precision and intensity. Each thrust is a calculated display of strength and control, hitting all the right spots with a relentless pace that leaves you breathless and wanting more.

Despite carrying you, his movements are powerful and controlled, each thrust driving you closer to the edge of ecstasy. The sensation of him deep inside you, his cock driving into you with primal intensity, is overwhelming and intoxicating.

With each thrust, he emphasises his strength, his dominance evident in every movement as he holds you close to him, his body pressed against yours. The slickness of your combined arousal acts as a natural lubricant, enhancing the pleasure of each thrust and driving you both closer to the brink of release.

In the heat of the moment, Jeno’s dominance takes centre stage as his fingers entwine themselves in your hair, firmly grasping a fistful of your locks. With each deliberate tug, he exerts his control over the pace and intensity of your movements, guiding you with a commanding yet sensual grip. As he pulls you closer, you can feel the electric tension building.

With each rhythmic movement, his hand connects with your flesh, delivering a sharp, stinging sensation that ignites your senses. The contrast between the gentle glide of his thrusts and the sudden impact of his hand sends jolts of pleasure racing through your body, heightening the intensity of the experience. Each spank leaves behind a lingering warmth, a tangible reminder of his dominance and your shared desire. As the sensations wash over you, you find yourself surrendering to the raw passion of the moment, lost in the electrifying connection between you and Jeno

With your hands securely pinned behind your back, you’re completely at his mercy, unable to move or resist as he takes you with an intoxicating blend of strength and desire. His muscles ripple with every movement, his veins pulsating with the intensity of his passion. His arms wrap around you, holding you close, his biceps flexing with each powerful thrust. You can feel the heat of his body against yours, his primal energy consuming you as he claims you as his own. In his embrace, you’re lost in a whirlwind of pleasure and surrender, utterly captivated by the raw masculinity of his touch.

He’s crazy. With each sharp slap to your cheek and each forceful tug of your hair, there’s a gentleness in his soft kisses grazing your cheeks. Amidst the heat of passion, he whispers sweet nothings in your ear, his breath warm against your skin.

You find yourself on the brink of ecstasy, your body writhing with desire as you whimper, “Please, I need to cum.”

Jeno’s response is immediate, his deep whisper urging you on, “Cum for me, that’s my good girl.”

With renewed intensity, he thrusts harder, driving you to the edge and beyond. Finally, as the pleasure overwhelms you, you reach the pinnacle of bliss, and with a primal cry, you release, your climax crashing over you like a tidal wave. In that moment of euphoria, you feel Jeno’s own release, his body tensing against yours as he joins you in ecstasy, the culmination of your shared passion leaving you both breathless and spent.

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Jeno’s house is not what you expected.

The cool evening air brushes against your skin as you approach Jeno’s place, his hand gently holding yours. He’d asked if you were comfortable coming over after the party, and something in his gaze made it impossible to say no. As you near his home, you’re taken aback by its appearance. Unlike the typical cramped student accommodations, Jeno’s house boasts a spacious front porch, its design minimalist but striking with shades of grey and sharp black accents.

“I live with a few other guys… it’s not all mine,” Jeno chuckles, noticing your wide-eyed wonder. His laughter eases the awe that had momentarily seized you.

“Who do you live with?” you ask, glancing around the spacious interior curiously.

Jeno chuckles, leading you through the open layout of the living room. “Jaemin, Renjun, and Donghyuck. Shotaro and Yangyang practically live here too, though. It’s a big place, it never really feels crowded… the more, the better, actually,” he explains, his voice echoing slightly in the expansive space.

He continues, a smirk playing on his lips as he mentions Donghyuck. “Donghyuck can be a real pain sometimes, he’s the one who keeps telling me you’re some Christian virgin but I tell him to shut up and hit him.” He says nonchalantly while you let out giggle. “But he’s one of my best friends. Always keeps things interesting around here.” He laughs softly, shaking his head at some unspoken memory.

“As for Renjun, he’s the quiet, mysterious type. Doesn’t talk much, but he’s reliable, always there when you need him.” He adds thoughtfully.

“Are they your best friends?” you ask, intrigued by the warmth in his voice when he speaks of them.

He nods, his expression softening. “Yeah, they’re the people I’m closest to. We’ve been through a lot together—it’s like having a second family, you know?”

“And Jaemin?” you ask, knowing he was closest to him out of all people

“I love Jaemin.” He responds quickly and surely.

“Awww.” You coo.

Jeno’s expression softens. “Yeah, Jaemin and I go way back. He’s one of those friends who’s seen you at your worst and still thinks the best of you,” he explains with a laugh. “I’ve known him the longest. He has this way of keeping me grounded, especially when things start to feel overwhelming. His voice is so calm and he’s always so understanding, I’ll always be so thankful for him.”

He shifts slightly, his enthusiasm growing as he talks about his friend. “We don’t always have to talk to communicate. All we need to do is look in each other's eyes and we know what the other is thinking.”

He says it so seriously but you can’t help but snort. “That’s incredibly romantic.”

He rolls his eyes, a sign he’s used to that response whenever he speaks about Jaemin.

He takes you inside, then leads you on a brief tour, his hand still warm in yours. “My favourite part, the kitchen,” he announces as you step into a sleek, modern space. The kitchen is a testament to minimalist design, dominated by grey tones with vibrant blue accents that add a playful splash of color. The clean lines and uncluttered surfaces reflect a sense of order and style.

“You cook?” you ask, genuinely surprised by the sophisticated setup.

“Do I cook?” he repeats with a raised eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I’m the best cook around.”

The confidence in his voice sparks a smile on your face. “You’re gonna have to cook for me one day,” you say, the words slipping out more comfortably than you expected. It feels natural, easy even and you just allow it to happen.

“Yeah, I’ll make it my best work,” he responds, his smile broadening. He looks down at you with a warmth that makes your heart flutter slightly.

As you and Jeno chat comfortably in the kitchen, the sudden sound of footsteps causes you to startle. Before your nerves can fully spike, you realize it’s Jaemin entering the room. He seems nonchalant, sporting headphones and munching on popcorn, oblivious—or perhaps indifferent—to your presence.

Jaemin’s casual demeanour initially leaves you wondering if this is a common scene for him, witnessing Jeno with company. Jeno, for his part, doesn’t seem surprised or perturbed by his friend’s appearance, reinforcing the depth of their friendship. They’re comfortable around each other, sharing a living space without the constant need to fill it with conversation.

However, the quiet moment shifts as Jaemin finally acknowledges the room. He pulls one earbud out, glancing up from his phone with a mischievous smirk. His eyes flicker between your entwined hands and both your faces, a hint of amusement in his gaze. “Don’t start fucking each other against the countertop. I just cleaned it,” he quips, his tone light but pointed.

Jeno simply rolls his eyes, a small laugh escaping him as he looks at you, unfazed by Jaemin’s comment. “Ignore him,” he advises with a grin, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze. “He always loves to tease.”​

Some time passes and Jeno leads you to the third floor, to his room. When he pushes open the door, a sense of tranquillity washes over you. The room is meticulously curated, the white walls pristine, exuding an aura of calm and control. Your eyes immediately travel to the bed, high-set with a soft charcoal comforter. Above his bed, an abstract painting commands attention—its tempestuous strokes of blues and greys mirroring the complexity within Jeno himself.

On one side, a sleek desk stands, supporting a high-powered computer with dual monitors. A nearby shelf holds a collection of engineering textbooks and a scattering of eclectic reads, your eyes lighting when you see some of your own favourite books.

The room’s ambiance is carefully controlled, LED strips casting an intentional glow, highlighting the books and illuminating a space that is both a study and a sanctuary. His headphones lie within reach, resting comfortably on its own stand.

As Jeno’s voice breaks the quiet, you realise he’s been watching you take it all in. “Do you want to change into something more comfortable?”

You nod but then your smile falters. “I didn’t bring anything —”

Before you can finish, Jeno is pulling out one of his black hoodies, his movements smooth and assured. You accept it with a quiet “thank you,” your fingers brushing against his as you take it.

The moment’s calmness is palpable as you sit on the edge of Jeno’s bed, the comforter cool beneath you. Jeno bends down to retrieve a couple of drinks and snacks from a compact compartment below, something you hadn’t noticed in his room prior. With a fluid motion that suggests familiarity, he pops open your drink using his teeth, his hands full, and hands it to you.

Does he realise how hot that was?

“What do you want to watch?” he asks, turning to face you with the remote in hand.

You shrug playfully, “You choose.” A grin spreads across your face as you hear the faint clicks of him browsing through the movie selections.

As Jeno fiddles with the projector, the soft glow of the screen illuminates the room, casting playful shadows around his minimalist space. You settle more comfortably into his bed, pulling a cushion under your arm.

Your giggle fills the room when you see his choice pop up on the screen— Lemonade Mouth. It’s unexpected, and his reasoning makes you chuckle even more. “Seems fitting to watch the most iconic movie about a band with the hottest and coolest band member I know,” he explains, a teasing tone in his voice.

“It’s an amazing movie,” you whisper, sinking deeper into his bed, drawing the comforter up to your chin. You’re so engrossed in the opening scene that you don’t notice Jeno’s gaze lingering on you, his attention only half on the movie.

The film’s lighthearted humour unexpectedly draws peals of laughter from you, your giggles echoing in the quiet room. It’s endearing to Jeno, how easily you find joy in simple moments.

“Did you guys start your band in detention too?” he jokes, referencing the plot of the movie, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

You shake your head, still smiling. “No, we started it because Sunwoo lost a bet. We’ve only been a band for like… less than a year.”

Settling back, he watches you more than the movie, a soft smile playing on his lips as he enjoys your reactions just as much as the film itself. The evening unfolds with a gentle, easy magic, the kind that seems to pause time just for the two of you.

As the characters in Lemonade Mouth rally together for their iconic ‘Determinate’ performance, Jeno chuckles, pointing at the screen. “Can Sunwoo and Eric rap like that?” he asks, genuinely curious yet teasingly.

You laugh, the sound is light and easy. “Both, actually. Especially Sunwoo—he’s surprisingly good. But he can’t ever be serious about it. I swear, half the time, I can’t take him seriously at all, and I can’t believe he’s in a band.”

Jeno’s laughter joins yours, creating a symphony of amusement that fills the room. “That must make rehearsals interesting,” he comments, imagining the scene.

“It’s like managing a group of kids sometimes.” You deadpan, eyes twinkling with the memories of countless rehearsals.

As the movie winds down and the room dims with the soft light of the credits rolling, your eyelids grow heavy. Nestled comfortably under his covers, you find the cosy warmth too inviting, your voice barely above a whisper, “Can I stay here tonight?” You’re already sinking deeper into the cushion of his pillow, the fatigue of the night drawing you closer to sleep.

Jeno’s response comes with a gentle chuckle, warm and reassuring. “Yeah, you can,” he smiles, the softness in his voice making it clear you didn’t even need to ask. As you nestle in, he reaches out, his touch light as he brushes his hand over your cheek. “Don’t you wanna remove your makeup before you sleep?” he asks, his concern tender.

You groan softly. “Can’t be bothered,” you mumble.

Without hesitation, Jeno offers, “I’ll do it for you.” He pulls open a drawer, retrieving cotton pads and makeup remover. His movements pause as his fingers brush over the items—remnants of past routines, he frowns, breathing in deeply before letting it out. Not tonight, not now.

He gently turns your face towards him, ensuring not to disturb you too much as your eyelids flutter in the struggle to stay awake. With care and immense attentiveness, he begins to dab at your face, removing the makeup with strokes so soft they could be mistaken for a caress. Each motion is careful, ensuring not to tug at your skin, his touch as light as air.

“So pretty,” he whispers, his voice a hush in the quiet room. He finds you absolutely breathtaking like this, bare-faced and in his hoodie, resting on his side of the bed. Normally he doesn’t let anyone sleep on his side of his bed, but with you, he decides to make an exception.

Jeno reaches for a spare blanket and pillow, throwing both onto the couch beside his bed but just as he turns to leave, your hand reaches out, catching his wrist with a gentle, yet firm grip, your fingernails embedded in his wrists slightly.

“Don’t go,” you murmur, the softness of your voice masking the intensity of your plea.

He pauses, turning back with a chuckle. “I sleep here all the time, it’s fine,” he assures you, his voice a blend of amusement and comfort.

But tonight, you want him closer. “I want you to stay,”

Jeno sighs, a sound of subtle delight, he can’t argue with that. as he slides into the bed beside you. “You’re kinda on my side of the bed,” he teases, a playful note in his voice that makes you smile in the dimly lit room.

“Come closer then,” you whisper back, shifting to make room and tossing the spare pillow off the bed. Your arms open, inviting him into a more intimate embrace. He obliges without hesitation, his hands finding their way to the small of your back, his fingers trailing along your skin as he pulls you closer, the heat of his breath mingling with yours.

You wrap your arms around him, pulling him close. The fabric of his shirt is soft under your fingertips, and you trace patterns absentmindedly as you both adjust into a comfortable cuddle. His presence is a calming force, and you feel the earlier tension of the evening begin to dissipate.

The proximity is electrifying yet soothing, with his breath rhythmic and steady against the side of your face. “This is better,” you admit, your voice a soft confession in the quiet of the room.

“Yeah?” he murmurs, his breath tickling your ear. His hand finds its way to your hair, fingers gently sifting through the strands, a touch that sends shivers down your spine.

“Mmm,” you hum in response, content and a little more daring as the night deepens. “I like having you close,” you continue, the words spilling out with a vulnerability that feels right in the moment.

Jeno’s response is a gentle squeeze of his arms around you, pulling you even closer. “I’m not going anywhere,” he assures you, his voice a low rumble that you feel rather than hear. His hand trails down your back, settling with a comforting weight that anchors you to the moment, to him.

The morning after, sunlight sneaks through the curtains, painting the sheets in a warm glow. You wake up to find yourself comfortably nestled in Jeno’s arms, his arms secure around you. Is it the bed or his strong embrace making you feel so cozy?

You feel his warm breath on your skin as Jeno leans in to kiss you, his lips hovering just inches from yours. But before he can make contact, you blurt out the question that catches him off guard.

“How did you find fucking me?” you ask, the words slipping out before you can stop them.

He pauses, his lips lingering near yours for a moment before he chuckles softly. “Good morning to you too,” he replies, giving you a quick peck on the lips.

“Was I good?” you press, your heart pounding in your chest.

Jeno plays with your earrings, his touch sending shivers down your spine. “Really good,” he admits, his voice husky with desire.

“Really?” you can’t help but sound a bit silly, your insecurities bubbling to the surface.

“There’s a reason I kept calling you my ‘good girl’,” he reassures you, his words sending a flutter of excitement through you.

You giggle at his response, feeling a surge of confidence wash over you. “I mean, who taught you how to suck cock like that?” he teases, wiggling your eyebrows playfully.

“I’m self-taught,” you continue, a mischievous grin spreading across your face. “No one needs to teach me.”

He moves his body on top of you, his gaze smouldering with desire. “Do you want to show me what else you’ve learned?” he asks, his voice low and husky with anticipation. His eyes lighting when you nod eagerly.

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You fidget with the hem of Jeno’s hoodie as you descend the stairs, the fabric soft against your skin but heavy with the weight of the night before. Hickeys dot your neck, a visible reminder of the passion that unfolded in the quiet of his room. Jeno follows closely behind, his hand finding the small of your back, a silent assurance as you step into the heart of his home.

The kitchen buzzes with morning activity, the air thick with the scent of coffee and the low hum of conversation. It’s a stark contrast to the serene isolation of Jeno’s bedroom. You’re not prepared for the burst of energy that greets you, but then again, you should have expected it. Jeno’s housemates, a notorious and eclectic group known campus-wide, are gathered around the island, their presence as commanding as their reputations.

Jaemin spots you first, his eyes lighting up with mischief. “Good morning, did you sleep well? Or should I say, fuck well?” he teases, winking at you with a grin that spells trouble.

Donghyuck stands, clapping dramatically as he eyes the marks on your neck. “Oh, look, someone lost their virginity!” he declares, earning a chorus of laughs from the others.

You shoot him an annoyed look, choosing not to engage with his antics. Renjun leans against the counter, a smirk playing on his lips. “Did he fuck you do hard that you couldn’t make a sound? We didn’t hear a peep last night,” he adds, his voice dripping with mock concern.

Despite the barrage of teasing, Jeno remains unfazed. He steps closer, his arm snaking around you, pulling you to his side. His presence is a wall against the playful onslaught. “Ignore them,” he murmurs, his voice low and comforting by your ear, leaving a soft kiss on your cheek.

You feel a tightness in your chest as their chatter swirls around you, the familiarity and ease of Jeno’s friends contrasting sharply with your own nervousness. You cling slightly to Jeno, tightening your grip on his arm. You manage a small smile, avoiding direct eye contact with the group, your gaze flickering between the countertop and the mug you’re now holding.

With a soft touch, he leans down, his breath warm against your ear. "Hey, just take a deep breath, okay? They really like you," he whispers just for you, the reassuring tone blending with the underlying rumble of his voice. He guides you subtly to stand slightly behind him.

You nod, managing a shy smile as you lean into his protective form, feeling the tension begin to ease. The physical closeness, Jeno's body shielding yours, brings a quiet comfort that helps you relax into the moment, the earlier apprehension slowly melting away under his attentive care.

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As the weeks pass, your interactions with Jeno become increasingly frequent and intense. You find yourself actively seeking him out. You’ve spent endless nights in his house, in his room. Endless laughter and soft touches weave between you, gradually building a deeper connection. Days without seeing him leave a noticeable void, highlighting just how integral he has become to your daily life.

Lee Jeno was not what you expected, he was better, he left you breathless. He had effortlessly evolved into a constant presence in your world. His ability to make you laugh and smile becomes a cherished aspect of your days together. You don’t shut up around him; it’s something he wasn’t expecting. He finds it endearing, how much you babble and talk. You simply share every thought and feeling with him — unmasked and raw. It was a massive difference to the shy girl who never used to be able to look him in the eyes.

(You still struggle making direct eye contact with him though).

You don’t know how it happened so quickly, but you begin trusting him and instinctively needing him around before actively realizing it. It was your bodies and minds’ natural response.

In getting to know Jeno, you discover a multitude of shared interests, from music and literature to movies and even Lego sets. Yet, it's the differences that add depth to your connection. Jeno exuded confidence, his outgoing nature and commanding presence drawing you in. He knew how to navigate any situation with ease, always in control and never at a loss for words.

Yet, alongside his confidence was a wild streak that ignited a fire within you. He embraced the thrill of indulging in drugs, drinking, sex and getting high, finding euphoria in the freedom of letting loose. His uninhibited nature was undeniably attractive, adding to the magnetic pull you felt towards him.

Despite his wild side, Jeno displayed a remarkable intellect and dedication to his studies. He approached engineering with a seriousness that spoke to his ambition and drive. Behind his cool exterior lay a focused individual with clear goals and aspirations for the future. This combination of intelligence, ambition, and spontaneity only served to deepen your admiration for him.

You also love when he kisses you.

The entire world melts away in those moments, as his soft lips meet yours in a dance of warmth and affection. Each kiss is filled with smiles and unspoken promises, drawing you closer to him with every tender touch. The closeness you share in those stolen moments is everything you’ve ever dreamed of and more.

It happens often—more often than you would have expected. You find yourselves kissing, making out, lost in each other’s embrace, more frequently than you could have imagined. Yet, despite the overwhelming desire that burns between you, you haven’t been able to take that next step.

Do you want to have sex with him again? Yes, without a doubt. The thought of being intimate with him again sends a shiver of anticipation down your spine. But have you been able to? No. And why? The answer eludes you, buried beneath layers of uncertainty and hesitation.

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You meet his eyes through the reflection in the mirror, the anticipation palpable in the charged air between you. His hands trail down the curve of your back. As he zips up the back of your dress and places your necklace around your neck, his whispered words send a wave of bliss coursing through you.

“You look beautiful,” he murmurs into your ear, arching your neck to meet his eyes directly now. his lips pressing against yours with longing, roughness, and breathlessness all at once. You moan softly into his mouth, your fingers instinctively fisting in his hair as he effortlessly picks you up, your legs immediately wrapping around his waist.

With a sense of urgency, he guides you to the chair by his desk, both of you breathless and eager for more. You straddle him, the heat of your bodies igniting as you grind against each other. As the cool metal of the zipper trails down the small of your back, a shiver runs through you—mixed, not with the anticipated thrill, but an unsettling trepidation. Your breath hitches, caught in the tangle of your conflicting desires. This is what you wanted, isn’t it? The question haunts the fringes of your mind, echoing with each inch of fabric that parts under his fingers.

He pauses, and the room suddenly feels too small, the air too thick. You can feel his gaze, heavy with concern, as he leans back to look at you. It’s a careful, searching look, one that seems to pierce right through the façade of readiness you’ve put up. “What’s wrong?” he asks, his voice low, a soft thread in the tense silence.

Your heart pounds louder, faster, betraying your outward calm. Embarrassment flushes your cheeks as you meet his eyes—so full of worry now. Why can’t you just be okay with this? The frustration at yourself bubbles up, sour and accusing. You feel exposed, not just in flesh but in spirit, as if he’s peeling back layers you’re not ready to shed.

You open your mouth to speak, to explain, but the words dissolve into a heavy breath. His concern deepens, the atmosphere shifts; it’s no longer just about desire, but about the raw, unmasked corners of vulnerability. “Y/N,” he says, and it’s gentle, almost reverent.

In that moment, caught between wanting and uncertainty, you realize the gravity of intimacy—not just the physical merging, but the emotional exposure. It’s not just bodies that are laid bare in such encounters, but hearts and hidden fears, all intertwined.

He catches every faltering word, his expression softened by an empathetic understanding that seems to wrap around you like a warm blanket. “It’s okay. You don’t need to say sorry,” he reassures you, his voice steady, a stark contrast to the tremble in your own.

You glance up at him, the turmoil inside bubbling over. “No, I do… I do want to have sex with you, I think I do but something is holding me back. Something doesn’t feel right inside of me, and I don’t know what it is. I just feel weird, I feel tense, my anxiety has never felt this high.” The words spill out in a rush, your voice cracking under the strain of the heavy, churning emotions.

“I feel nauseous. I’m sorry… I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable or guilty. I’m really sorry.” You mumble, biting your lip to hold back the tears that threaten to break free. Guilt gnaws at you, twisting tighter with each apology, fearing how your words might weigh on him.

He listens, his eyes never leaving yours, not even for a moment. There’s no hint of frustration or judgement, only deep, unwavering patience. “You don’t need to say sorry to me about that, or explain yourself to me, ever,” he responds, his tone firm yet gentle. It’s comforting, like a steady anchor in the tumultuous sea of your emotions.

“I know what you’re feeling. Having sex does take a toll on your body and mind. It can be a lot mentally. You don’t need to explain yourself to me because I will always understand, okay? Just tell me if anything is making you uncomfortable and don’t ever feel guilty about it.” His assurance is a soothing balm, addressing not just the immediate anxiety but acknowledging the broader, often unspoken pressures that come with intimacy.

The room stills, the earlier tension slowly dissipating as his words settle over you. You nod, a silent acknowledgment of his kindness. In this moment, the physical space between you is charged with a new, quiet intimacy—a connection not of bodies, but of souls understanding each other in profound silence.

His hand reaches out, brushing a stray tear from your cheek with a tenderness that makes your heart swell. It’s a simple gesture, yet it speaks volumes, reinforcing the safety and acceptance in his presence. It’s not about what happens next, or what didn’t happen tonight. It’s about being seen, understood, and cared for without conditions. And in that understanding, the heavy cloak of anxiety begins to lift, replaced by a lighter, more hopeful sensation—a whisper of peace amidst the storm.

“Do you still wanna go or do you wanna stay here and chill for the night?” he asks, his voice gentle, leaning in close enough that you can feel the warmth of his breath. His eyes search yours for an answer, patient and undemanding.

You smile, a wave of relief washing over you at how understanding he is. “Of course I still want to go.” You respond, your voice steady but soft. There’s comfort in his presence, a safety that peels back the layers of guard you’ve meticulously built around yourself. For a moment, you hold his gaze, seeing the sincerity and warmth that flicker in his eyes, revealing his true intentions. It’s this truth that captivates you, locking your eyes with his and making the world around you fade.

He nods, a small, understanding smile playing on his lips. Standing, he offers his hand, and you place yours in it, feeling a rush of warmth from his touch. His hand is strong and secure around yours, a contrast to the smooth, gentle hold that sends a thrill up your arm. As he leads you through the crowd, you can’t help but notice the confident way he moves—each stride purposeful and assured, his shoulders relaxed yet commanding presence. The feeling of your hand in his—a delicate yet perfect fit—makes your heartbeat a little faster.

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As time passed, Jeno’s friends became an integral part of your life, their presence a constant presence in your shared moments. You found yourself spending more and more time at his house, naturally integrating yourself into his circle of friends. Initially intimidating, you soon discovered that they had big hearts and welcomed you with open arms

Jeno also bonded with your friends, although it got a bit awkward considering he had fucked Nayoung and Eunji before, it’s not shocking, he has a high body count. It wasn’t easy to forget that the way he met you was through Nayoung, through his initial interest in her. But it was clear that boundaries were now set, and he viewed them as your friends specifically.

Jeno exuded an unexpected chill vibe that effortlessly drew people to him. He possessed a natural charisma that made it easy for him to get along with everyone, though not in a desperate, boundary-less way. Rather, he was the type who genuinely wanted to keep everyone happy and safe, yet he also harbored a darker, more defensive side. If you crossed him or someone he cared about, he wouldn’t hesitate to assert himself.

His presence was magnetic, with eyes following him wherever he went. Being around him was like basking in sunshine—impossible not to smile, to feel light and happy, to keep your eyes fixed on him with a wide smile. That’s why you warmed up to him so easily. His ability to effortlessly connect with your friends was incredibly hot, and seeing him make an effort was a major turn-on.

Your friends have grown accustomed to seeing you in their own world, whenever you and Jeno are together, their glances and remarks go unnoticed by both of you. You’re so engrossed and caught up in each other that the outside world fades away. There’s constant eye smiles, giggling, stolen glances, whispers, and communications, all adding to the intimate atmosphere. Physical closeness comes naturally, and you always make space for him. He, in turn, chooses to sit next to you and focuses solely on you.

You’re in the campus student lounge rooms. The last time you were here, the mere thought of him used to send chills down your spine, he used to make you incredibly nervous. The last time you were here with him was the morning after you had sex, and the memories flood back, mingling with the present moment.

But now? You’d say you’ve become a lot more comfortable around him. Don’t get it wrong, he still makes you nervous. At times it’s still difficult to look into his eyes and he loves it, especially right now, when he’s tracing the skin under your pretty little skirt with such precision. His eyes gaze into yours, penetrating deep into your soul, while the sides of his lips upturn into a smirk. As always, your friends are rolling their eyes as you and Jeno are eye-fucking again, completely oblivious to the scene around you.

Why is he touching you? Well, you mentioned wanting a tattoo, so you asked Jeno to trace an artistic outline of what he thinks would look good on you. Of course, deep down, you just wanted his hands on you; you weren’t actually planning to get inked. But you couldn’t exactly blurt out, ‘Jeno, please touch me!’ in front of everyone, could you? He doesn’t mind though; he sees right through you and finds you endearing and cute. Plus, he’s not exactly opposed to any excuse to touch you either.

As Jeno’s fingers glide over the bare skin of your thigh, you feel a surge of desire coursing through your veins. His touch is electric, sending shivers of anticipation up your spine. You bite your lip to stifle a moan, but the sound escapes anyway, earning a smirk from Jeno.

“Really? In front of everyone?” he teases, his voice husky in your ear, dripping with desire. You shake your head, unable to form words as his touch sets your nerves on fire. Every brush of his fingertips sends waves of pleasure straight to your core.

“You like that?” he whispers, his warm breath tickling your ear. You can only whimper in response, the ache between your legs growing more insistent with each passing moment.

His hand moves with purpose, tracing the curve of your thigh before inching higher, closer to where you need him most. You can feel the heat radiating off his body, matching the fire burning within you.

In your mind, you’re chanting ‘higher’ over and over, craving his touch to escalate. Suddenly, his voice, a low whisper in your ear, sends shivers down your spine. “You want me to touch you higher?” His words, dripping with seduction, fuel the fire burning within you.

How does he know? It’s maddening yet exhilarating, the way he can read your desires with just a glance. You bite your lip, trying to suppress the moan building in your throat, but it’s futile. You want him to know, to feel the raw intensity of your longing.

“No,” you manage to whisper, but it’s a lie, a feeble attempt to resist his irresistible allure. He smirks knowingly, his fingers teasingly brushing against your folds, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. You can’t hold back anymore as desire consumes you, craving his touch, his warmth, his everything.

He repeats his question with a smirk, his tone dripping with teasing temptation. “No?” he says, drawing out the word, his eyes sparkling with mischief. But you’re beyond words now, lost in a haze of desire as his touch threatens to unravel you completely. All you can think about is him, his hands, his lips, igniting a hunger that only he can satisfy. “Jen—”

──────────────────────────────

As you lay your head on Jeno’s lap, the comfortable silence of the room wraps around you. You’re scrolling through his phone, a small gesture that shows just how close you’ve become, trusting each other with such personal devices. He’s doing the same with yours, each of you lost in a quiet exploration of memories captured in digital form.

Your fingers pause as you swipe through his camera roll, a gallery of his life displayed in bursts of pixels and colours. There’s an array of images: candid shots with friends, selfies, beautiful scenic photos, gym progress and a few of his university projects. You also come across an array of your own photos that you’d almost forgotten sending him—naughty and risqué shots of you in lingerie, revealing outfits, and even some playful nudes.

Then, amidst the casual swiping, you halt. A photo pops up that halts your breath and tightens your chest. It’s an image of Jeno with Arin. 

You were still unclear about who Arin was to Jeno, and the nature of their past relationship. He hadn’t ever spoken about her, and the bits you pieced together from Eunji and Nayoung suggested they were together a while ago, though whether it was serious or not, you couldn’t be sure. But seeing this photo cuts your breath in half.

They’re caught in a serene moment—her seated on his lap, an arm draped comfortably around her. Her smile is radiant, the kind that seems to illuminate her entire face, and her eyes sparkle with joy. Jeno’s gaze is fixed on her with an intensity that’s palpable, his eyes soft, mesmerised. It’s clear from the photo that there was something deep and affectionate between them.

Among the multitude of images, this one stands out conspicuously, the only visual record of her presence in his phone. The absence of any other pictures of her prompts a troubling realisation: he must have deliberately removed them, yet this one remains, was it accidental? Was it not? 

You doubt it. A chill runs through your spine, your breath shakes, and you feel a painful strain in your chest at the realisation. This photo had to be recent—you notice him wearing one of his commonly used jackets, and the hairstyle is the same.

You’re so incredibly jealous and shaken up that your vision blurs; you can’t think straight, you feel like you’re about to throw up, you feel so fucked up and nauseous that you don’t even think to check the date the photo was taken. All you can focus on is looking at her. 

You can’t believe how breathtaking the photo is. Arin’s dress hugs her figure elegantly, accentuating her curves in all the right places, while her radiant smile lights up the frame, infusing the image with an undeniable warmth. Her eyes sparkle with genuine joy, drawing you into their depths with an irresistible allure. But it’s the way Jeno looks at her that leaves an indelible impression on your mind—he’s captivated, his gaze fixed on her with a mesmerising intensity that speaks volumes.

As you stare at the image, a cold realisation washes over you. She embodies everything you fear you’re not; her ease and vibrancy in the photo make you painfully aware of what you perceive as your own shortcomings. Jeno’s mesmerised look serves as a sharp reminder of your insecurities, feeding the jealousy that coils tight in your chest.

Now you know what it means when people say that a photo speaks a thousand words. It’s evident just by one photo—they look like they’re in love. The realisation hits you like a ton of bricks, confirming what your heart already suspected. With a single glance, the photo lays bare the truth of their relationship, leaving you reeling with a pang of heartache.

The photo stirs a storm of emotions within you—jealousy, envy, confusion. “She’s pretty,” you whisper to yourself, so quietly that Jeno doesn’t hear. You try to shake off the discomfort, to scroll past, but your eyes are glued to the image. Arin’s beauty, her dress, the happiness on his face—it’s a vivid portrayal of a potential love that fills Jeno’s life.

Silence stretches, heavy and thick, as you digest the image and its implications. The room suddenly feels smaller, the air around you charged with unsaid words and emerging doubts. Your fingers tremble slightly as they linger on the screen, the brightness of the phone casting shadows on your thoughtful face.

Jeno’s voice breaks through the heavy silence, calling out your name with increasing urgency. He notices the sudden change in your demeanor, the way you’ve gone silent and still, and follows your gaze to the photo of him and Arin. He meets your eyes, and there’s an unreadable, cold expression as if he’s masking or hiding something.

Your faint, broken voice fills the room with a small whisper. “Why do you have this photo on your phone?”

He’s about to answer, his mouth opening to form words that you’re not sure you’re ready to hear, when suddenly his phone vibrates loudly on the table. Your head snaps towards the device, a sharp intake of breath catching in your throat as you see the name illuminated on the screen. A single tear escapes, tracing a hot path down your cheek, but you quickly wipe it away before he can notice. With a huff, tinged with a mix of anger and hurt, you ask, your voice trembling slightly, “Why is Arin calling you?”

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authors note thank you for reading :) hope you enjoyed, happy birthday to my love jeno <3 if you liked, pls interact, leave a message, ask, reblog, my dms on here are always open too so speak to me! i love meeting new ppl. there is a part 2 to this, the last part, which will be out asap. it was all initially going to be one fic but it was too long and tumblr didn't allow it so i had to split it up

tag list @apuppygirlfriend @babbymochiiii @actually-vl @mingiandbaconjam @nakamotai

#jeno #jeno smut #lee jeno #nct jeno #jeno x reader #nct 127 #nct u #nct #nct dream #nct smut #nct scenarios #nct x reader #nct imagines #nct dream jeno #jeno fluff #jeno imagines #jeno icons #jeno moodboard #kpop fic #jeno angst #nct lee jeno #jeno texts #nct fanfic #nct reactions #nct icons #jeno nct #jeno nct smut #jeno nct angst #nct dream fluff #nct dream fic

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

my love if i may request a whiskey with dbf!joel or dbf!bucky with the prompt “i’ve wanted this for so long” and mayhaps if it’s not too much to ask for but some breeding kink👀👉🏻👈🏻

Promises, Promises.

warnings - smut. cursing.

I figured I'd make this dbf!bucky, because i've done a dbf!joel fic for this celebration already. y'all, I read the words dad's best friend and go fucking feral. this one got away from me.

3k celebration post here. 3k masterlist here.

You're the last person Bucky expected to be at his front door at 3am.

"What's wrong, honey?"

"Locked myself out of my goddamn house, and my parents are still on vacation. Can I crash here tonight? Please?"

Who is he to turn down an offer that tempting?

"Course. Come on, it's too cold for you to be stood out here."

The two of you sit down on his couch, settling in to watch some TV.

"Bucky Barnes. Are you watching a romcom?"

He blushes, a slight flush creeping up his cheeks.

"If you tell anyone, I'll kill you. They're my guilty pleasure."

"It makes me like you more, if anything," you grin. He can't help but smile back at you, less embarrassed now.

"Look, my love life is fuckin' terrible. I live vicariously through these cheesy films right now."

"You? Terrible love life? Those two phrases don't usually go in the same sentence."

You're teasing him. Seeing if you can get a rise, hit the right button.

"Oh, shut it. Just because you're on a new date every week."

"I'm... what?"

"Your Dad seems to think you're dating a lot."

You quirk a brow at him, amusement curling at the corners of your lips.

"Is that so?"

"I'm only telling you what I've heard, honey."

He crosses his arms across his chest, biceps threatening to break free from the confines of his t shirt.

"He's wrong."

"Is that so?"

You roll your eyes.

"I have a friend, he's a guy. My Dad automatically assumes we're dating because we hang out. But we're not."

"And why not?"

"I don't know, I guess he's just..." you debate your answer, realising it's now or never. "He's not old enough for me. Not mature enough."

Bucky bites his lip, eyes scanning your face.

"He's your age."

"Exactly. Boys my age don't know shit."

He laughs, but it's dark and low, something brewing beneath the surface.

"You always were too smart for your own good, huh?"

Bucky's thigh is pressing into yours, the warmth from his skin seeping through. His rough fingertips glide across your arm, slow and soft. He's testing the waters.

"I shouldn't want this," he murmurs, barely audible. "Neither should you."

"But I do," you whisper. "So fucking bad."

"Me too."

Bucky grabs the back of your neck, smashing his lips to yours. You grip at his hair, his biceps, his shirt - anything you can get a hold of. You feel like you're dreaming, your filthiest thoughts coming into fruition.

He pulls you into his lap so you're straddling his hips, grinding down and panting into his mouth. You're both breathless, but neither of you want to be the first to pull away.

Bucky rips your shirt over your head, instantly attacking your chest with kisses. He's marking you up, claiming you as his. You should be worried about the repercussions, but you're not.

You pull his shirt off and rake your nails down his front, grinning when he shivers. Suddenly, Bucky stands up, setting you on your feet.

"Strip."

You blink at him, processing.

"Strip, baby. I won't tell you again."

You shimmy your pants down your legs, your underwear going too. Your mouth waters as you watch him undress, admiring the angles and smooth ridges of him. A Greek God.

Bucky stalks over to you and hooks a foot behind your ankle, sending you both flying onto the rug on the floor. He cushions your fall, not letting go of you once. Running two fingers through your wet heat, he groans.

"All for me, pretty girl? What did I do to deserve somethin' this sweet, huh?"

"Need you," you whine. "Please, Buck."

"I've wanted this for so long," he murmurs, lining himself up. "Fuck, you're a dream."

You both gasp as he slides home, your back arching and his jaw falling slack. Bucky rests a hand against the base of your throat, the weight grounding you back down to Earth.

"Need you to move," you choke out. "Fuck, I need it, Buck. Please."

"Oh you need it, do you?" he smirks. "My needy girl."

He snaps his hips into yours in long, careful glides, very aware of the effect he has on you. Before long, his restraint snaps, and his thrusts get harder, quicker, more frantic.

"Gonna fill you up, baby," he's muttering under his breath. "Make you mine. You want that? To have everyone know who you belong to?"

You're nodding rapidly, tears gathering in your eyes, bottom lip caught between your teeth.

"How are we gonna keep this a secret if you're pregnant, huh?"

The thought makes you moan, a breathy, gutteral sound.

"You like that? Want me to make you a mommy? Fuck, I'll give you everything you ask for. I'll buy you a house and knock you up, you'll never want for anything."

His low, honeyed words throw you over the edge, squeezing and clenching around him. Bucky groans, deep and rumbled, the sound vibrating through the both of you. You find your releases together, panting and out of breath.

"House first."

"Huh?" he breathes, raising his head from your chest.

"Buy me a house first. Kids second. Maybe marriage in between."

He laughs, floating and content. You both know he meant what he said, not just a heat of the moment confession.

You stay wrapped up in each other for hours, on the rug in front of the fire.

You'll deal with the repercussions later.

#bucky smut #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #dbf!bucky barnes x reader #dbf bucky barnes #dbf!bucky barnes #dbf!bucky #dadsbestfriend!bucky x reader #dadsbestfriend!bucky barnes #dadsbestfriend!bucky barnes x reader #dadsbestfriend!bucky #marvel imagine #marvel x reader #marvel smut #murphy's 3k celebration #bucky barnes #dad's best friend bucky barnes

[rafesslxt]

Showerhead 2 | mattheo riddle

pt. 2 — you can find pt. 1 here

summary: after you and mattheo had some fun in the shower, you two can‘t stop thinking about each other and that night. But who gives in first to sin again after a little jealousy?

words: 5,1k

warnings: heavy dirty talk again, cursing, making out, dry humping, teasing, controlling, praising, bj, unprotected p in v, shower, swallowing, legilimency (mind reading),

note: you don‘t have to read part 1 for this part but have fun if you want to

— in the great hall —

After that night in the shower 2 weeks ago, I couldn‘t stop thinking about it. I dreamed about it in my sleep, daydreamed about it in class and lunch while Hermione talked about some book we needed to read to understand everything in potions.

I hated it but everytime we crossed paths, he winked at me and I couldn't help myself but start blushing. As soon as I saw his face, I saw it between my legs.

"Y/n? Are you even listening?" Hermione says and shakes me a litte at my shoulder. "What? Yeah yeah of course, I'm gonna read it." They all look at each other before their eyes are on me again. "We were actually talking about how Cormac seems to have quite interest in you." Harry then continues.

I start laughing loud, looking at them as If each of them has 3 heads." What the hell are you talking about?" "Told ya she's not listening.." Ron says, raising his eyebrows as he bites into his toast.

"I thought he‘s interested in Hermione?" I ask as my laughter calms down a bit. "Harry heard him talking about how he would - well.. do certain things to you." My amused face turns into a disgusting one as I hear what Ron says.

"Yeah and guess who‘s got an invention to Slughorn‘s dinner?" Hermione says with raised eyebrows.

Ron looks at her shoked. "What?? That prick got one and I didn‘t?"

"Oh god no.." a few days ago Harry, Hermione and myself got an invention to tonights Slughorn‘s dinner for his favorite students. ".. but wait, how do you know who‘s coming?" I ask her. "I just asked him after the last lesson of potions. It‘s Neville, Ginny, Blaise Zabini, Mattheo Riddle, Corma –" "Mattheo Riddle?" I ask her shocked, looking at her with wide eyes.

I would see him again? Like.. this close and with people around us? My mind is racing as Hermione answers. "Yeah well, you know he‘s really smart and good in potions." "And he has an interest in special students and Mattheo is.. well – special." Harry comments.

Ron snorts and talks with a full mouth. "Mh yeaw hiff fatha was "speschal".

Hermione rolls his eyes at his full mouth and looks at me again. "Why are you so suprised by his name?" she asks me a little suspicious. " oh uh- just suprised, i always thought Mattheo is uh - not interested in things like that."

"Why would chou think about wat Mattheo is-" "Ron just eat and shut up!" I snap at him making the other two widen their eyes a bit.

I collect my things and stand up from the table. "I‘m gonna go to.. god i don‘t know I‘m gonna go." I say, walking off before they can answer. Because it‘s the weekend I luckily don‘t have classes today. I don‘t think I could concentrate in one of them after the information I just got. God why him? Why me? Maybe I can say I feel sick.. no he would know. I can‘t back down.

I walk down a hall, not thinking where I am going and suddenly crash into something hard but not as hard as a wall. My book and writing stuff falls to the ground and I look up, staring right into the face of Mattheo.

My brain went blank in this monent. "What princess? Aren‘t you happy to see me?" he grins down at me before he gets down and picks up my stuff. "Hm I remember a similar moment, same position." He smiles even more when he sees my red cheeks and not talking mouth. As he gives me my stuff he presses his mouth to my ear and whispers "I‘m looking forward to tonight" And with that, he‘s gone.

I‘m so fucked.

— at the evening —

" Do you know what you‘re wearing?" I ask Hermione while I put on some makeup. I hear her sigh and she goes "yeah I have this one dress I really like. What about you?" I shake my head as I search for my lipliner. " Not really, but I have enough dresses so I‘ll find something." Hermione laughs at my comment as she pulls out her dress and changes into it.

After I‘m done with my makeup and hair, I walk over to my closet, looking for a nice dress.

"What about this one? It would fit perfectly for the occasion." She says as she pulls out a dress of mine. It is long and black, with cute little arms on it. "It‘s pretty but I want something.. else." As i go trough my clothes I think about Mattheo again and what would impress him. God I need to stop it.

"Well what are you looking for?" "Hmm something likeee.. this." It‘s perfect. It‘s short but not too short, i know it sits beautifully on me and.. it‘s green.

(imagine something like this but in some green tone and longer so it‘s more school approved)

Hermione raises her eyebrows and looks at me. "Are you sure? Isn‘t it a little too.. party?" I love her for how she always chose her words wisely and with a knowledge for not hurting and judging people. I know what she meant but she would never think about judging me. Even when I put my clothes on she wouldn‘t pick, she makes me feel great in them.

"Yeah, I‘m sure." I smile, putting it on. When I look into the mirror I smile even more, thinking about how Mattheo will react seeing me in it.

As the time comes we take our purses and walk outside our dorms, meeting Harry and Ron in the common room. "You both look great." Harry tells us like the gentlemen he is but Ron just scans me like a little hater and looks at me. "Isn‘t that a little too flashy?" "Ron!" Hermione hits him on the shoulder.

"Don‘t be mad at what you can‘t have Ronald." I say grinning and winking at him before I link my arm into Harry‘s with Hermione doing the same on his right side.

We walked through Hogwarts, towards the dinner and the closer we got the more my heart started beating as If I‘m running a marathon.

I open the door in front of us after taking one last deep breath and walk inside with my two friends.

Everyone was already there, seated perfectly. "Oh hello you three! I‘m so glad you made it. Please choose a seat and get comfortable." Professor Slughorn greets us. I always liked him, even tho many say he‘s a little weird sometimes but I think thats exactly what I do like about him.

As I walk towards an empty seat, I scan the table, looking at Mattheo when I found him but his eyes were already on my dress.

Quickly I look away, seeing that Cormacs eyes were on me too which made me gag a little.

But god Mattheo looks so good. He wears a simple white shirt with a black tie and black slacks. Damn what I would give to ride his thigh in these – "Y/n you‘re staring." Hermione whispers into my ear, making me realise i stared right at Mattheo, but to my suprise he‘s still looking, not breaking eye contact for a second.

I gulp and look away, feeling my cheeks getting warm. God I hate it so much what kind of affect he has on me. I can‘t be the only one..

Wait. I‘m a woman. I can definitely tease him and make him feel the same.

The dinner goes on, nothing special besides Ginny who came in crying. Definitely have to ask her with Hermione about that later in detail.

As desert comes I look around the table, meeting Cormacs eyes. He licks of some ice cream from his fingers and wiggles his eybrows at me. Oh god I think I‘m gonna throw up.

As soon as I can I look away to Mattheo who was giving Cormac one of his death stares. Interesting.

I don‘t really know why i think it‘s a good idea but i do think it is. So I lean back a little, presenting the low cut at the front of my chest. I see Mattheo‘s eyes flicker to my chest and so do Cormac‘s but Mattheo‘s eyes switch back really fast to Cormac and give him a second glare. Really interesting.

I smile triumphal and lean a bit forwards again, pressing my boobs together this time. Instantly I get a headache but a really intense one. I hiss in pain which makes Harry look at me worried. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah I just got an really bad headache.“ i whisper back, wondering what it caused.

Soon the dinner was over and everyone thanked Slughorn for the invitation. "I‘ll stay and try to figure out what that missing memory of Slughorn‘s is." Harry whispers to us before staying behind.

My headache got a bit better but It still didn‘t go away. As we walked trough the door I said to Hermione and Ginny "You guys go to the common room, I‘ll follow. I just wanna get some advil from Miss Pomfrey.“ They nod and tell me that they will go into Ginny‘s room to talk more privately.

It‘s already late and a bit after curfew but Professor Slughorn told us he made sure we would get in no trouble If someone sees us.

I rub my head slighty, trying to ease the pain on my way but nothing helped.

Then, out if nowhere a hand slaps over my mouth and a arm wraps around me, pressing me against a body. I scream into the hand, trying to get myself free until I see who the hand and arm belongs to.

"You didn‘t think I would let you go off that easily in that little dress of yours huh?“ Mattheo breathes against my face as it was only a few inches away from mine.

He slowly takes his hand away from my mouth, letting me speak. "What do you mean?" I ask and try the innocent act but he doesn‘t buy it.

"Oh princess, princess, princess. You can‘t fool me. I know that you wore this excuse of an dress for me. Fuck and also in my house color's? That‘s no fucking coincidence."

I gulp at his words and the fact that he knows who I wore it for. There‘s not even a single chance for me to lie. "And what If I did wore it for someone else?" Only one way and that‘s to push his last buttons. Oh how I wanted to push that buttons until –

"Someone else, yeah? Then who was it for?" "Cormac." As soon as his name left my mouth I regretted it. I see his jaw clenching and his grin fading. "Cormac yeah? So you didn‘t thought about me the whole dinner?" I slowly shake my head no, not daring to move now.

"So you‘re wet for him right now? Not me?" "What? I‘m not–" but as soon as I move my legs I feel it too. Shit. When I only look up at him his grin comes back.

"Yeah that‘s what I thought.. so why don‘t we skip this bullshit and you come with me?" Before I can even answer him, he takes my hand and pulls me trough the corridors, towards the Slytherin common room. " Mattheo I can't-" "Shut up." he hisses and whispers something under his breath so the doors to his common room would open.

"Can't fucking believe you pulled such a show in front of that stupid dick." he growled quietly before we reach his dorm. I start smiling as I see he's getting mad at the fact that Cormac saw me in that dress. "T'fuck you smiling about huh?"

As we enter his room I notice that there is only one bed which makes me wonder. "Don't you have a roommate?" "No, I have my own room." I scoff at his answer and look around his room. It has a big bed beside the window of the room and a little nightstand beside it. On the other side of the room is a big couch and a armchair.

But before I could think about it any further, he pulls me into his lap, face towards his, after he sat down on the armchair. "You know, you could have just told me If you missed me princess. Didn't need to dress all up for me." He puts his hands on my hips, grabbing them tightly.

I roll my eyes at him and act as If I didn't already enjoy his touch. "Didn't miss you." I say, looking away from him. He chuckles and pulls my face back to his with his fingers on my chin. "Are you sure?" I only nod and look into his brown eyes. They look so dark without any light in the room, that they send even more shivers down my spine than usual.

"Is your head better? Still in any pain?" he asks me grinning. "Yeah they-" wait. I never told him about my headache. Or could he hear when I told Hermione and Ginny? Or when Harry asked me at dinner?

His hands slowly wander down to my tights were my dress slowly rose up and placed them there, squeezing my flesh lightly. I felt his breath on my neck, giving me goosebumps. "It's gotten better, right?" he asks again. His lips ghosted over my skin, making me bite my lip.

"How do you know?" I ask him in a whisper. "I know everything that goes through your pretty little mind baby."

I tried to figure out what he meant by that but I couldn't concentrate with his hands on my skin and his lips almost against my neck. I need him so much.

"What baby, can't concentrate? Too much for you already?" he coos and finally kisses my neck, nibbling on the skin between his lips.

I can't believe how easy he gets under my skin with his kisses and whispers, not even doing anything. " I know you dreamed about me these last two weeks, thought about me at every chance you got. In class, in the shower, wishing it was me who touched you." he groaned against my throat.

My eyebrows squeeze together at his words. " How would you know that?" "Did you never wonder why your head always hurted at the same times?" I gasp and pull my neck away from him. " Are you reading my mind?" my eyes go wide as he just smiles at me sheepishly. Oh my god, no. This can't be. He's not allowed to know all these private thoughts.

"You don't know how hard it was for me to stay away and wait until you would come back to me but you little minx didn't and after tonight.. I couldn't just let you slip away from me again."

"Y-you can't do that Mattheo. That's not allowed. These are my thoughts." "I know baby but I couldn't help myself after that night in the shower. You were like a dream coming true so submissive and responsive to me. Fuck I'm already getting hard just thinking about it. But you understand I didn't have a chance, right? I couldn't risk you thinking about someone else then me."

He slowly pulled my dress up, exposing my tights and underwear. "God are you for real? Did you plan this?" he groans as he sees my matching set, a dark green lingerie set.

He pulls me closer to him, looking deep into my eyes.

"Ride my thigh." he commands and puts his hands back on my hips. "What?" I ask, looking at him dumbfounded. " It's my thigh or nothing. I'm not helping you getting off this time." I look at him with my mouth hanging open in shock. How could he be so cruel?

"C'mon, ride it baby I know you thought about it at dinner." My cheeks got red as he mentioned that. He dips his head towards my neck again and starts covering it in wet kisses. "Don't test my patience, love." he whispers and tightens his grip on my hips, moving them slowly. I gasp at the sudden friction.

"Feels good, right?" I only nod, closing my eyes as I start to move my hips in circles against his thigh. I feel so dirty doing this but at the same time it feels so good to finally get the friction I needed the last weeks again.

I feel my clit rubbing against my underwear, making me whimper and move my hips faster. "Fuck, look at you. I thought you were desperate back in the shower but now you're just getting yourself off on my thigh like a dirty little whore." I moaned at his words combined with his kisses on my skin. His lips went lower, first towards my collarbones, then further down to my chest.

I feel one hand of him wander to my underwear and pushing it to the side so my bare pussy rubbed against the material of his pants. I whine at the feeling, my hands grabbing his broad shoulders. " Oh my god. I'm so close Mattheo." He laughs wickedly against my chest, pushing down my dress so it hangs at the middle of my body. His mouth wanders to my bra, unclasping it with one hand behind my back.

"You're so beautiful baby, never ever am I waiting two weeks again for that." he growls and starts massaging my boobs and playing with my sensitive nipples.

I arch my back, shivers run down my spine at his touch. The grinding get's more and more intense. "Feel this?" he asks as he takes my hand and puts it on his bulge. "It's just for you." I bite my lip and look down at my hand. It looks so painful that I start massaging it through his pants. He bucks his hips up into my touch, his breathing getting heavier.

While still riding his thigh, I open his pants and push them down together with his boxershorts. His already fully hard cock slaps against his stomach before I take him into my hand. I spread the pre-cum over his tip with my thumb and start moving my hand up and down. "Shit princess.." he hisses, thrusting his hips up into my hand.

"I'm so close Mattheo.." I whine as I almost start rutting my hips against him. "Come on my leg baby, do it." he groans, lips apart.

I let go of his cock for a moment to dig my nails into his shoulders for support as I press my throbbing clit harder against him. He takes his cock into his hand and jerks himself off as he watches me panting and moaning.

With a deep twisting feeling in my stomach I come all over his thigh, riding out my orgasm.

"So good for me, look at how much you came." he says and I look down at his pants, a big wet spot on them now. My legs still shake from my high and I look up at him again.

Mattheo's POV:

Fuck. I don't know what it is but I have a feeling that this girl is going to be the death of me. With hooded eyes she looks up at me and almost get's me to cum in my own hand just from her eyes looking into mine. She had such a chokehold on me, but I will never admit that to her.

I smile down at her before I speak "already fucked out again and I didn't even touched you." The same thing I told her two weeks ago after I've eaten her pussy and she came after 3 minutes.

"Fuck off." she mumbles and falls slightly against my chest. "As much as I enjoy this closeness baby.." I start, nodding towards my rock hard cock, laying against my stomach.

I push a strand of hair behind her ear and whisper into it. " Suck on it." Her eyes go wide and she looks down on me with those innocent eyes again. " Don't tell me you never sucked cock with those pretty lips." I say, looking at her plump lips, almost begging to be fucked.

She rolls her eyes at me again, making me want to choke her until she stops. " I have." Her answer makes my clench my jaw, wishing she would've just said she didn't.

I pushed her down in front of my legs. I grab a pillow from the couch beside us and put it under her knees, making her grin. " Don't tell me you suddenly care for me Matty?" Now I am the one who rolls his eyes.

I grab her pretty hair into a ponytail and push her towards my cock. She takes it into her hand and starts to lick off the pre-cum from my tip. A moment later she starts sucking on my tip, making me smile. I have a feeling this is going to be good.

I hiss as her wet lips and warm mouth take more of my cock into her mouth. I close my eyes and let my head hang backwards. " Come on y/n, show me what you got."

Suddenly she takes me all the way down her throat, my eyes almost bulging out of my head and my mouth falling open. "Oh fuck, yeah!" I groan, gritting my teeth together. I swear I could feel her smile around me.

She bobs her head up and down in a fast pace, making me moan and groan like a little bitch. Fuck, what is it with this girl?

I feel my tip hitting the back of her throat. " Oh Shit." I lift my head up to look down at her. Her eyes are teary and her hands support herself on my tights. I start grinning, wishing I could take a picture of her pretty mouth around me.

Her throat clenches around me so delicious I almost came. "Hmm baby, you know how to suck cock. Gonna give you that." I pant.

One of her hands go down to my balls, massaging them. " Oh - " I throw my head back again, feeling something in my lower stomach. My hips buck up and I hear her gag, only getting me closer to my high. "M' gonna cum down your throat and you'll swallow it, yeah?" I ask her, breathing heavy. It doesn't take me long to cum and fill her mouth. "Fuckkk.." I groan, pushing her down even harder so her nose touches my stomach.

"Swallow it. All of it." I slowly let go of her, but seeing her cough a little only fuels my desire. She opens her mouth after she swallows and shows me that she swallowed every single drop.

"That's a good girl. Now come on.. let's take a shower." I say grinning at her and helping her back up. "Mattheo I don't know If I can walk so far." she sighs as she stands on her still shaky legs.

I kiss the top of her head, something I never do but just feels right with her. " You don't have to. I have my own shower." I pick her up bridal style and carry her towards my bathroom."

Y/n's POV:

As he picks me up to carry me, I feel a few butterfly's in my stomach but I try to suppress them.

He let's me down when we stand under his shower. His clothes hit the floor. "Hot or cold?" he ask, putting his hand on the tap. "Hot." I say and watch his back. Last time I didn't noticed but he has big scars all over his back, some even on his chest. He must see my face cause he asks me "What's wrong?" I shake my head and try to smile.

"Nothing." I see it in his eyes that he doesn't buy my lie but doesn't push me either. As the warm water hits my skin, I sigh in relief. I let my hair get wet and wash off the makeup I had on. While I did so, Mattheo stands right behind me, his hands on my hips, scanning my face.

I open my eyes and see him looking. " What?" I ask grinning. " You're beautiful." I roll my eyes and look away again, trying to hide my blush. "You don't have to try to get into my pants. You already are." He turns me around and holds my face. " Hey.. I really mean it. And not just your body. Your face is prettier than the ones of angels." My eyes widen at his words, not expecting that kind of words from him.

He clears his throat and looks away for a moment himself. That's when I grab his face in both my hands and crash my lips into his. The kiss is hungry, more passionate and different than the last times. More tender.

One of his hands slide up and down my back, while the other lays on my hip. "You make me crazy, princess." he admits, mumbling against my lips. I smile into the kiss. "Don't go soft Mattheo." I say, teasing him.

He starts kissing my neck, but less soft and more aggressively now. "Remember who's in charge here baby. I would choose your words wisely." He lifts me up so I wrap my legs around his waist. "This time I wanna see your face when I fuck you."

He takes his cock into his hand and positions it at my entrance, teasing me with it. „Mattheo come on, fuck me.." i huff out frustrated. "Beg for it, wanna hear you beg again like the last time I fucked you." I roll my eyes at his ego, but still do as he tells me to. "Please, I'm already begging you to fuck me."

Ge grins down at me and slowly pushes inside me, holding eye contact the whole time. His lips part and his eyes get lazy. "Fuck, you feel just as good as the first time I fucked you stupid."

I want to bite back but only bite my lip as he starts thrusting in a fast and hard pace. "What was that? I'm going soft princess?" His grip on my hips gets tighter and he starts kissing my neck up and down. " N-no you're not.." I whimper, closing my eyes and letting my head fall back against the wall.

What was is that he had me under his control so much? Not even a single brain cell told me to not do as he says. I can't with this boy..

His lips work their way up to my ear and he whispers "I'm a man baby, a boy wouldn't fuck you like I do. " Goosebumps erupt over my body and again he's right. " Stop messing around in my head." I growl lightly, supressing a moan in my throat. "You're all mine. I don't give a shit about how you see that, cause I know your body screams for mine every night. And it will never get someone else's. Do you understand?"

He stops kissing my neck and looks at me while thrusting his hips against mine. A shiver run down my spine as I looked into his eyes, but this time not a good one. It was ice cold. I never saw him looking tat serious and cold. Possesive. "Do. You. Under. Stand." he asks me again, deep and hard thrust for every word.

"God yes, Mattheo. I understand!" I cry out as his fingers find their way towards my clit, rubbing it in circles. My nails leave marks all over his back, drawing a little blood.

He starts hissing but laughing at the same time at the pain. He's gonna be the death of me. "No, you're gonna be mine, princess. Do that again with your nails, turns me on." As I don't, he mumbles a quite "okay" and presses me harder against the shower wall, fucking me even deeper and more brutal. My nails find their way back inside his skin and I'm sure If we had been o the bed It would be broken by now.

"When are you gonna learn to not be a little brat, huh?" he asks, a smirk on his face. "I own you now, baby." I let out half a snort half a chuckle. " Do I own you then too?" I ask sarcastically. " You own every inch of me."

My face falls a little at his answer, not expecting it. Did he mean that?But as soon as my thoughts started, I forgot them as he starts to rub my clit even harder, but in a steady rhythm.

"Oh yeah look at that in pleasure twisting face, that's fucking it." he groans, his thrust becoming more erratic. One hand leaves my hip and wraps itself around my throat, squeezing it with the perfect amount of pressure. A broken scream leaves my lips with my eyes rolling back.

"Yeah scream so loud Cormac hears who‘s name you‘re moaning tonight." I press my lips together but he squeezes my throat tighter. My walls clench around him, making him lose his control, eyes rolling back a bit with a smile to it. "I love that pussy so much fuck.I bet he can't fuck you like I can, huh?"

This time my answer comes in a instant. " No- no he can't. I'm so close Mattheo, please." I moan as I feel this deep twisting feeling in my stomach. His lips meet mine, to my surprise. Unlike how he fucks, he kisses me soft and passionate. "Come around me baby.Please fucking come around me." he groans almost desperate.

And just like that I let go and let the feeling of my orgasm overflow me. "Hm shit.. can I come inside you baby?" Mattheo pants against my lips while he looks down between us. I just nod quickly, feeling him coming inside me a few seconds later. "Shit.." a whimper leaves his lips as he fills me up.

My stomach twists again at the sound so I look at him and scan his face for a moment. I think that's the hottest sound my ears ever came across. He looks fucked out too, his eyes heavy.

He slowly pulls out but still holds me. "You make me so addicted." he confesses to me, looking between my eyes and lips. I had to. " So you're going soft now again?" I tease him, out of breath.

He chuckles lowly which ends with me bent over every single surface in his room.

I don't know how long I can survive in that.

—

I just know ya‘ll hate and love me for posting this.. after weeks :) <3

There‘s gonna be a part 3, the final then. Hehe.

Taglist: @idk-simra @kindnessspreads @purplegardenwhispers @glittervame @oxi8 @lovelyygirl8 @yakosobaboba | thank you for supporting guys 🫶🏻

I created a Tag List Form if you‘re interested: Taglist Form

xoxo sarah <3

#slytherin boys #slytherin imagine #slytherin smut #harry potter imagine #sub mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle masterlist #mattheo riddle blurb #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle headcanon #mattheo riddle fluff #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle smut

[talaok]

a smutty joel imagine with him saying, “you’re in trouble doll”

Pairing: dbf!Joel Miller x f!reader

summary: Joel, your dad's best friend, has pissed you off once again for his constant fear of your father finding out about you, so you decide to make him jealous, only he doesn't take it as well as you expected... or maybe exactly as you had

warnings: jealousy, he grabs you by the neck at one point, possessive!Joel smut| a bit of thigh riding, unprotected p in v sex, creampie, she calls him daddy ONCE bc I need to cut back on the daddy kink it's becoming a problem, kind of exhibitionism, and unnecessary feelings cause i can never fucking write a story where they're just fucking for some reason

You were flirting good

The way you only did when you weren't really interested, when it was just a game, when you were bored, or perhaps... in the mood for taunting someone

Maybe someone who was across the backyard, his hazel eyes burning a hole into the back of your head as he gripped his beer hard enough to shatter it, his head nodding slowly at whatever your dad was saying, but his thoughts only to you, only to that little asshole who had his hand on your cheek- on his girl

"I'd forgotten how funny you are" you said, after falling into a more than exaggerated laughing fit at one of Kaleb's miserable jokes.

He grinned with that smile guys have when they think they have it in the bag, when they’re already picturing you in their bed

As if

“Tell you what, I'm even funnier in front of a drink,” he said, his eyes glinting with victory “you free tonight?”

But before you could respond, a very much non-friendly voice barked from beside you

"she's not"

Joel looked even hotter than usual with that t-shirt clinging to his toned biceps and pecs, and the way he was looking at Kaleb... he looked ready to kill, and fuck if that didn't make him even hotter

"Tommy needs your help on the grill, I'm takin' a break" he nodded toward his brother, giving the guy a chance to scramble before he had to punch him in the face

"now?" Kaled wined, his gaze trailing to you, as if counting on the understanding of another man of what he was interrupting

"Now."

There was no room for negotiating, and the guy finally got it, sighing loudly before nodding

"Fine, I'll catch you later then," he smiled, watching you reciprocate, before he started for the grill

You squinted your eyes against the sun as you looked up at Joel, making a show of rolling your eyes as he gave you that stern, angry look he was always so good at giving

"Cockbloker"

You didn't wait for whatever smart retort he was gonna send your way as you turned around and started making your way into the house,

only of course, he was right behind you, closing the glass door to the kitchen with a loud thud

"you're in trouble doll"

again, you could only roll your eyes as you opened the fridge to look for what you didn't even know

The party of people just outside the windows was loud, but his steps as he stalked to you were the only thing you could hear

"I'm talking to you"

You could hear the restraint in his voice, almost feel it oozing off of him, the way you were getting under his skin, the way he was controlling his own rage

And when you only sighed, still not acknowledging his presence... then his self-control slipped, and his hand had forced the fridge to fly shut, the bottles rattling inside.

maybe this will get your attention

And it did, you turned to him, a bored, stoic look on your face

"what do you think you're doing?" he hissed, his jaw ticking 

"what?" you cocked a brow "I'm not allowed to talk to people anymore?"

The way he tilted his head, flames of anger lighting his eyes as he took a step towards you made you want to get down on your knees and suck him off right there and then... but then again, you were supposed to make him pay

"Don't give me that bullshit" he growled "That wasn't just talking, there's only one thing that guy was after and you know it"

You scoffed, taking a step closer to him in affront

"so?" you asked, raising your brows "What I was after the same thing Joel?" you argued "You know, since you're so scared of my dad finding out... since you're always saying I should find someone more age-appropriate, I figured... why not Kaleb?" 

Oh he was fuming

"At least he's not scared of my dad" you mocked "At least he wouldn't have to sneak out of my house after he's done fucking me-"

you didn't even see him move, the only thing you felt, was the back of your head hitting the fridge, and seconds after, his hand gripping your throat, and only then did you hear the gasp fleeing your throat

he had moved you to the other side of the fridge so that from outside, no one could see your dad's bestie choking his daughter without so much of a hair of second thought.

"If he even tries to come near you" his face was but an inch from yours "He won't have a dick to fuck you with sweetheart, got it?"

What did he think? That he was gonna scare you? please

You snorted, your mouth twitching in a smirk

"You don't own me Joel" you only purred "I can fuck who I want"

The snarl he let out was nothing but predatory

"You think that fucking guy's the right one for you?" he asked, his right leg in between yours, the top of his thigh dangerously close to your core 

"you think that little asshole's gonna make you come?" his breath was ghosting your mouth, but he ducked lower, murmuring against your ear now 

"You think Kaleb's gonna fuck you better than I do?"

Although shivers were running down your spine, you chuckled, as you murmured "Maybe"

He groaned, his thigh immediately going to your center, rubbing against your clit as his fingers tightened on your throat.

"say that again" he challenged, his voice rough and throaty

"what," you grinned, "you think you're some kind of sex god or something?"

The fact that he could hear all the little whimpers you were swallowing down your throat didn't help your case

"Have you forgotten already about all the times you were begging for my cock sweetheart?" he teased, his jeans damping with your slick as you parted your mouth in pleasure "All the nights you spent screaming my name, mh?" 

His warm words felt so good on your neck, and his leg... if he kept at it you might just fall apart like that

"you think another man can do that for you?" his eyes were boring into yours now, his hand forcing you to meet his gaze 

And when you didn't answer, the same smug grin on you, he understood what he needed to do

"You need a little reminder, 's that it?"

And just like that, you had exactly where you wanted him.

If he was aware that this was your plan all along, he didn't show it, probably because you had turned his brain into a jealous angry heap.

He watched the way you bit your bottom lip, the same way he's seen you do thousands of times before, need pooling in your iris and panties at the same time

"ah that's it, isn't it?" he growled, his right hand going to squeeze your ass "my dirty girl needs me to remind her who's the only man that can make her feel good huh?"

And fuck it, but you were already palming the bulge at the front of his pants

"whose cock she needs to be filled with" he smirked, watching your pretty eyes fall to his mouth

"then I guess I just have to, don't I?"

His lips were on yours faster than you could blink, his mouth ravenous and hungry as much as his tongue, which was exploring every inch of you as if he needed to have all of you, right there, right now.

You felt his hand leave your neck and seconds after your ear picked up his zipper getting undone and then he was picking you up and he was hastily freeing his cock from his boxers and-

It was all so fucking fast- he felt like a man possessed

For this much talk of you being the one to need a reminder, it looked like it was him the only one to need this

And maybe it was because seeing you talking to that guy made him see red, or maybe because it had been more than 24 hours since he had a taste of you and missed you more than anything, or maybe... maybe he was just starting to realize that it wasn't the 24 hours, and it wasn't Kaleb, but it was you, it had always been you, with that smart mouth and that smug attitude and your determination and kindness and beauty and fuck- this had never been just fuking- he could never just be having sex with you, he wanted to have you, all of you, not just like this, but in public, in front of everyone, in front of Kaleb and you pissed off dad- he wanted to- to bring you on a proper date and pay the bill and only then fuck you so good you forgot your name- he wanted, he wanted everything, he wanted you, completely.

"You know anyone could come in here at any moment right?" you asked breathlessly as you leaned away, your lips swollen already 

He had you propped against the part of the fridge facing the wall, so you were hidden from the outside, but anyone could have just taken a closer look, or come into the kitchen for a fresh beer and caught you just as he railed into you... and he couldn't have fucking cared less

"What, you scared?"

And the way you smiled- the way you smiled was enough to make a grown man drop to his knees in an instant

"fuck me, daddy"

God fucking damn him, but he might just be in love

"Jesus fucking Christ doll"

He didn't let you laugh at him before he had pounced into you with one hard and deep thrust, his mouth crushing into yours simultaneously to drown out that clamorous moan he already knew was coming from your throat

He didn't let you get used to him, he only started fucking up into you like he needed to split you in half, like he needed to get deeper into you that he'd ever been.

He was grunting with each push, and you could faintly hear the fridge beside you move in tandem with his movements, but you couldn't have cared less about worrying whether or not it could be seen from outside.

he hit a particularly deep spot inside of you and just as you were about to cry out like a mad woman, his hand was on your mouth, shutting you up for good

"you let another guy touch this fucking pussy and they're dead" his eyes were just as brutal as his thrusts, although a veil of harrowing honesty lay beneath them

He was being serious, he needed you to know that

 "got it?" he asked, your mind only half listening as your walls tightened around him "It's fucking mine" he purred, the hand he had on your waist tight enough to bruise "You're fucking mine," he said, "all of you" 

You swore you felt pain underneath the anger in his voice

"I don't care what you say, I'm the only one that can make you come, 'm the only one who can touch you or fuck you or- or fucking take you out to dinner- got it?"

If it were any other moment you would have teased him, but this... there was something too precious- too honest about this

"yes" you whimpered into his palm, 

And that sent him straight to fucking heaven, he couldn't help but relieve your lips of his hand and kiss you again, kiss you with every inch of life he had in him

"You're mine" he breathed, both of you breathing so heavily you were nearly hyperventilating

"I'm yours Joel" you promised, your core wisting and tuning as he drilled you closer and closer to the edge "I'm yours" you repeated, watching what it did to him, the relief plastered onto his face, the want only multiplying in his pace "only yours- all of me-"

"that's right" he breathed, his skin slapping with yours "My pussy, my body, my girl" he purred "You're mine, doll"

And just like that, he had pushed you over the edge, watching you fall apart closely before he couldn't help but follow suit, kissing you as he silenced both your moans, bottling them up inside of him, so he could never forget them, forget this.

You opened your eyes to find his already on you, so many unspoken words, feelings, hopes in them, and you couldn't help but smile, dropping your forehead to his as he settled you back onto the ground

"That was- wow" you sighed, still grinning like a kid "I should make you jealous more often"

"Please don't" he begged, his fingers drawing circles on your waist as you kissed him again, smiling softly onto his lips

You needed to talk, about what happened, about what this was, about everything... but as you both leaned away, a mutual understanding passed through you

Later

"You should get back out there" you murmured, although halfheartedly.

the prospect of moving away from his embrace felt like hell right now

"what about you?" he asked, his nose nuzzling against yours

"I gotta clean myself up" 

"I could help" 

You rolled your eyes playfully as a small laugh flowed through you

"Joel" you said, still smiling "go"

And so even if his whole mind, body, and soul were fighting against it, he did, kissing you one last time before he leaned away, fixed himself up, and looked at you one more time, before walking out of the kitchen and into the backyard

And as if on cue that fucking asshole had to come in and ruin his fucking vibe

"Hey, where's y/n? I've been looking for her" Kaleb asked, walking up to him.

Joel didn't even try to be nice, he didn't even bother with that "count to ten before answering" bullshit Sarah was always telling him about

"She's not interested, and if I see you even just looking her way ever again, I am going to kill you Kaleb, understand?"

To say the guy was taken aback was the understatement of the century

His eyes widened so much he didn't even look like himself

"w-what the fuck?" he spat "Where is she, I need to t-"

"she's in the bathroom" Joel cut him off, pure rage and annoyance in his voice, in his stare "cleaning my come off of herself"

Kaleb stumbled back, literally now

"w-wha-"

"I told you buddy" Joel said simply "she's not interested"

#joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #dad!joel miller #dbf!joel miller #joel miller x f!reader #dbf!joel #no outbreak!joel miller #joel miller fluff #tlou #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfic #smut #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #fluff #joel miller imagine #joel miller blurb #joel miller angst #fanfiction #the last of us #the last of us hbo #tlou hbo #joel miller tlou

[gremlingottoosilly]

(Idk if ur taking requests since it says "asked closed" but I just HAD to get this thought out of my brain)

Monster!König x Quiet reader

since I'm quiet and just like to listen not talk to ppl I got this idea that reader listens to König talk about his day 🤷‍♀️ you can add more but that's just my little idea :>

(I'm srry if it's bad, this is my first request lol)

Naturally, Konig isn't the most talkative person. He is fine with letting others talk, as long as they won't forget to listen to his orders - and the monster version isn't all that different. He doesn't believe others to be worthy of his words - of his attention, even. Most of his soldiers never heard him talk outside of a few taunts here and there and some orders that get passed through his officers. He was fine with letting you be quiet at first. Humans should be afraid of him - his little human wife should be timid and shy, so he is glad that you're smart enough to close your mouth and listen to him instead of pathetically trying to argue with your mate. It plays into his ego - into his fantasies of being this cool stoic knight with his shy human wife who knows when to shut up and how precious her husband is. You're literally so freaking adorable - he can't wait to show you off in front of other monsters. His pretty little mate is tame without even the need to be tamed - so, so precious. He starts to talk first in the conversations. Knowing that you won't ruin the moment with your dumb mumbling or your beginning to let you go, he can talk about everything. His current missions and objectives, who is probably going to die on the next task and which soldier he hates most. Talks about supply lines and how fucking expensive it is to try and find more human mates for his guys - he would always kiss you after this, mumbling something about how lucky he got with a human who knows better than to speak their mind. Would often praise you for being quiet and obedient, even if he knows you're like this only because you're scared. He opens up more and more to you - whispering some soft things into your ear while he fucks you. Making it his goal to make you as loud during sex as possible - forcing moans out of your throat and making sure you're calling his name every time he makes you cum. You're so embarrassed during sex, so scared of actually allowing him to treat you like this...but there is nothing else you can do about it - you're just getting on your tummy like a good girl and hope that if you push your face into the pillows, he won't make you scream like he usually does...you're wrong, of course.

#cod #konig x reader #konig #yandere konig #cod x reader #monster!konig

[personasintro]

come for me | jjk

↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; it's a first proper date he's supposed to plan, unfortunately it does not go according to his plan

⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dilf!jungkook x reader

⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: angst, fluff, smut, neighbors au, enemies to lovers (?)

⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language, protected s*x, little spanking, rough and quick s*x

⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6.6k+

a/n: this is one of the secrets I've been keeping and god it's finally here!! i wasn't even planning on finishing this today but I did and I'm so happy to share it with you! hope you like it <3

↳ previous parts

Jungkook is convinced the entire world sucks.

What should be considered as the most exciting time for some men, Jungkook finds it as a literal torture. Planning a date shouldn't be so tough. He has never truly done it before – not when he truly meant it. Whenever he went out for what could be considered as a pathetic attempt at a date, its purpose was clear. To fuck and end it with a mind-blowing orgasm on both parts. 

He has never done it like… this. 

Fuck.

Just the thought of it makes him want to throw up. He definitely can't mention that to you – who's pretty much clueless about his thoughts and would kick him in the balls if you knew. 

“I don't know dude, you should bring her roses.” Taehyung proposes, watching his friend in a mild panic as he bounces Ruda in his arms. 

“She's not like other girls.”

“What do you mean? Every woman loves roses! You can't go wrong with that!” Taehyung protests, offended that Jungkook rejected his idea right away. 

“I wouldn't say every but yeah, it's the effort that counts. Plus, she knows you've never done this before.” Yoongi joins in that conversation, shrugging nonchalantly while Jungkook nibbles on his bottom lip. 

Fuck! This is not like him. 

It's already enough his friends share an amused look, one he definitely notices and finds really offending. They find this entire thing very amusing while Jungkook is having a midlife crisis. 

“Okay, maybe forget about the flowers. What does she like?”

“What do you mean?” Jungkook frowns.

Yoongi rolls his eyes, “What things does she like to do? Does she like to eat? Likes to watch movies?”

Jungkook's a little taken back by those questions, a clueless expression clouding his face while Taehyung snorts in the background. He's too busy trying to think of a proper answer to glare at him in return. 

“I–I don't know,” he admits.

“You don't know?” Yoongi deadpans, “Come on dude, you gotta know something.”

“I don't know!” he exclaims in distress, causing Ruda to babble as if to remind him she's there. He shoots her an apologetic look, looking back at Yoongi. “We never really discussed that kind of stuff. We fucked. That's what she likes for sure.”

“Should you talk like that in front of the baby?” Taehyung points out, met with another glare that shuts him up. 

Ruda is too young to understand. He'll take care of his bad mouth by the time she understands, he naively thinks to himself.

“Then just fuck her.” 

Jungkook stares dumbfoundedly at his friend and his stupid idea. “Seriously? I'm supposed to take her on a date. Beats the whole purpose of it if I just fuck her instead.”

“Look at him, so much progress.” Taehyung mutters amusingly, causing Jungkook to grab one of Ruda's plushies and throw it aggressively at Taehyung's head. 

“Then just take her somewhere and fuck her after. If the date is awful, at least she gets her world rocked.”

They both start to laugh while Jungkook whines loudly, a groan following right after. “You guys are fucking with me. Literally, you're no help.”

“JK, we can't exactly help you when you have no idea what she likes. Maybe you should find out first and then think of something?”

“Oh, how did I not think of it sooner?” Jungkook mocks, doing a little stance with his arms while Ruda is in his hold. “Very smart, Yoongi. I don't want to make it seem as if I don't know what I'm doing.”

“What's so wrong about that?” Taehyung questions, “You just ask her what she prefers and it'll be easier to plan something.”

“Yeah, he's right.”

Jungkook sighs, pinching his brows. Ruda starts to fidget in his hold, causing him to sit down in a chair. He hands her one of her rattles as she starts to wildly shake it in her tiny hands. 

“Won't I look pathetic if I just asked her?”

“You literally look pathetic right now.”

“Taehyung, God help me–”

“Just ask her.” He cuts him off. 

Somehow, he made it sound easier than the thought of it is. 

The next time you see Jungkook is when you bring him the dinner you cooked. You haven't had that much time to see each other, with you working and his sleeping schedule all over the place, you had to settle with a message for the time being. It hasn't been that long, only like three days since he asked you on a date.

You're not going to lie, you feel a little giddy thinking of it. It's weird because you can't imagine the famous Jeon Jungkook on a date. If someone mentioned the words date and Jungkook in the same sentence, you would laugh them off. But now that it involves you, you find it almost flattering. He's taking you on a date. 

You. 

And no one else. 

You want to devilishly cackle at all those bitches that got to fuck him, wanted something more with him. Realizing that's kind of evil, you humble yourself because nothing's sure yet. 

Since this is very new to not only you but Jungkook as well, it's hard to have any say when it comes to the future. You're trying to prepare yourself for any outcomes but it's tough. Tougher than you think it would be. The idea of this failing makes you weirdly sad and you can't stand it.

However the sight in front of you completely brings you to other thoughts. You've never been someone who would thirst over dads. The whole DILF thing discussed between women was a pure fantasy, something they would romanize or even sexualize. Not that you were purely against it. Are women who find young dads hot that bad? 

The potential man would have to be hot in order to find them being a young dad hot. Some men just have that spark. And you've never really met one even remotely close to Jungkook.

And there he is. 

He opens his front door, hair slightly raffled and messy, as if he hasn't brushed it the entire day. He has one of his oversized gray shirts on, a map of spit or whatever that is decorating the thin material. He has a baby cloth draped over his shoulder, momentarily widening his eyes at the sight of you. 

Then realization hits him and he steals a glance at the watch around his wrist. He forgot you were supposed to drop in for dinner. 

Other than he looks fucking hot, even in his messy state, you also find him adorable how he stares at you with big doe eyes before he ushers you to come inside. 

“Where's my favorite baby?” you ask excitedly, keeping your tone down just in case she's sleeping. It's awfully quiet in Jungkook's apartment. 

“You make it sound as if you knew dozens of them.”

You give him a look, hearing him chuckling as he runs his fingers through his hair. “Rude.”

“She's sleeping,” he answers instead, but a cocky grin is attached to his moisturized lips. “She's been a little cranky this night,” He lets out a yawn. “Barely got any sleep.”

You pout at the thought of it. “You should've told me. We could switch or something.”

He stares at you dumbfounded as if you just came up with the craziest idea. Perhaps it is one. 

“You have a job, Y/N. I can't let you have a sleepless night.”

He has a point. Even if you were willing to spend a sleepless night helping him, you wouldn't really help much since you have to wake up early in the morning. You can't babysit during the day, unless it's the weekend. And babysitting during the night so Jungkook can sleep, even if for a few hours would cause you to look like a zombie the next morning.

You love your sleep. But you're willing to give it away for Ruda. And Jungkook. 

Jungkook ends that particular topic, leading you further down his apartment and to his kitchen where you place the containers. “It's tomato sauce pasta with chicken and basil. Not exactly a trophy winning menu but I tried to cook something quickly.”

“Fuck, I'm so hungry,” Jungkook whines, opening the container as he inhales the scent, a steam coming off it since you just finished cooking. “Thank you. It smells amazing.”

“No worries, I told you I wanna help in any way I can.” you assure him. 

He motions for you to sit down, already pulling out a glass for you where he pours you an apple juice. “Have you eaten?” he asks, already digging his fork into pasta.

“It's hot, be careful,” you warn him, even though the steam itself is enough of an indicator that it's indeed very hot. But Jungkook looks as if he's ready to swallow the entire thing with no thoughts. “And no. I came directly here but no worries, I will eat when I come home.”

“Nonsense,” Jungkook waves you off. You watch him stand up and before you can complain, he pulls out a plate for you and opens the other container you had prepared for him for tomorrow. “Here, let's eat together.”

“Jungkook–I have my food at home, I just came here to drop this–”

“Stay for a while.” he says simply, looking too irresistible and straight into your eyes for you to object. 

“Okay.”

You dig into the food, not realizing how hungry you've become once again. Your entire apartment smells like tomato sauce, garlic and basil. You hope by the time you come there, the opened windows did their job because you would hate to sleep in a smelly apartment. 

When you were cooking, you inhaled the smell a lot so naturally, you didn't feel as hungry anymore but now the hunger comes back. Without any argument, you both eat in silence while trying to talk about your days. 

You and Jungkook haven't really talked that much before. You both know what you spent most of the time doing. That's changing and it is a pleasant change.

It does feel slightly odd to be talking about casual stuff like your work. But once Jungkook takes over and talks you through their day. He's got a lot on his plate. He has a baby for fuck sake. He looks exhausted, yet his eyes are sparkling and he doesn't make it sound as if he's complaining. He informs you, even laughs at Ruda's cranky mood and what work she makes him go through. 

You're done and Jungkook takes it upon himself to clean the dishes and give you back your food containers, even though you told him it can wait. He protests and while he just as much protests with you cleaning the mess in his living room, you do it anyway.

There are toys and a few dirty and empty bottles laying around. There's not that much of a mess and it's done shortly after Jungkook finishes dishes.

You both decide to hang out for a while before you have to get home, take a shower and prepare yourself for the night. 

“Hey, I meant to ask you about something…”

Jungkook starts unsurely, arm outstretched behind your seat on his couch as you're cuddled to his side. You could fall asleep like this.

“It's about our date.”

You pull away slightly to look at his face, “Are you backing down from it?” you muse, watching the way his face turns into panic and that alone tells you that's far from the truth. It's enough to let you relax as you giggle.

“No!”

“Then what is it?” you ask, cuddling back but in a position where you still can see him. 

“What do you like to do?” he asks, a little awkward as he scratches the back of his head. “It sounds fucking stupid but I was wondering where to take you and I realized–we never talked about this stuff. And I–” Don't want to mess up. He doesn't finish.

Something warm collects in your chest and you try to hide a smile, not wanting him to feel as if you're finding him amusing or anything of that sort. Actually, you find him endearing. He's showing you a side of himself that you've never seen before.

“Whatever you plan, I'm sure I'll enjoy it.” You settle on saying, not having anything particular in mind which is not a help at all. 

“Come on!” Jungkook whines, “I'm trying here. I've never done this shit before.”

“Did you just call our date a shit?” you tease him, watching him open his mouth before he closes it and glares at you.

“I didn't mean it like that.”

“I know, I just love teasing you,” you muse, met with another glare which causes you to giggle silently. “I've never seen you like this. I'm quite enjoying it.”

“Yeah, make fun of me.” he scoffs a little.

Realizing this might not be just as fun and humorous as you make it seem to be, you also realize this must be important to him in a way. Your smile drops and you sit up, watching him slide his arm off the couch and into his lap. He stares there thoughtfully, avoiding your gaze.

“I'm sorry, I didn't think you would worry about it this much,” you tell him gently, “Depends on what time we would go on a date.”

“I called my mom and she can babysit until 9PM. She has to go back home after that.”

“Hm, okay. And what time are we meeting?”

“I thought maybe around… four?” he says, stealing a glance at you as your purse your lips in thought.

“How about we eat somewhere nice–nothing fancy!” you warn him, not really sure if he's the type to go all out since he has never done this before. 

But still, you want to make sure he doesn't spend a fortune on a single date. Plus, you would like to pay too. Not because he has a baby and other expenses, but because you're independent. You don't need a man to pay for everything.

Maybe eventually it would be nice to get spoiled a little. But at the moment, you can't imagine it. It wouldn't seem fair considering what a position he's in now. There's a little human here that needs more of everything than you do.

It's not something you've had to come to terms with, you've understood it from the beginning. Jungkook is a dad now. And it has a certain baggage with it. 

“And then we could do something–I don't know. Maybe we could think about it after? To see what we're in the mood for.”

“You sure you'll be okay with it?” he asks unsure.

He's met with a confusion as you pull back and say; “Why wouldn't I be? I just suggested it.” you giggle.

“Just askin'. I've never done this before.”

“So you said.” you tell him, standing up. “I would go and check Ruda but I don't want to wake her up. So kiss her for me, okay?” 

Jungkook looks like he's ready to protest, perhaps telling you to stay a little longer or even night, knowing it might be too soon for you. Once he checks the time, he remains quiet and the pout is the only thing visible on his face. 

You lean down, kissing him on his cheek. “Don't worry about the date too much, okay?”

He hums, though keeps his pessimism to himself. You wave at him for the last time and it's until he hears a soft click that he's once again alone with his daughter. The one that announces herself shortly after you leave. A loud sigh leaving his mouth as he stands up and goes to check on her. 

“What do you mean you can't come?” Jungkook shrieks, so out of his character that even his mother on the other line stays silent for a second.

“I'm sorry, Jungkookie. They canceled all train connections because of an accident.”

“Fuck,” he mumbles under his breath, hearing his mother scolding him but he pays her zero attention. “Can you grab a taxi or something? I'll pay for it.”

It's out of his budget but he's desperate. 

“No, it's too expensive plus I wouldn't be able to make it in time. You know how it is here. It's hard to find a taxi.”

He groans, rubbing his face frustratedly as he stares out of the window. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. 

He had it all planned. Even though you talked about getting food, he thought a lot – embarrassed to say – he even googled a few spots that were recommended around here. He would let you choose and maybe you would be able to visit them all within five hours that you would have for yourselves. 

But now everything's out of the window. 

“I could come tomorrow?” She tries to help, but Jungkook shakes his head.

You can't tomorrow. There's some kind of family party you need to attend. 

“No, it's fine, mom. I'll call you later.”

“I really am sorry, Jungkookie.”

He starts to think of every single thing that he knows. Every person gets on his mind and he wonders if he should call them. In a moment of realization and reality hitting back to him, he realizes he can't just call anyone to watch over his daughter. He sits down in disappointment, realizing how selfish that would be of him. 

He can't call Yoongi or Taehyung. They would not be able to take care of her and he would spend the entire date worrying, probably leaving to check on her. That's completely out of the question. None of his other friends, that probably fuck around as we're speaking would be able to help him.

None of his family members are around. Plus, they still haven't met Ruda – most of them – for some reason he thinks it's too early. He's still in a stage of trying to figure out to be a father. 

It's only his luck that his mom calls him from the train station, having no other way to come here. Just because some dumb fuck decided to jump in front of the train. 

He stops.

Fuck, he really is selfish.

He takes it back immediately, having more compassion now than ever since he has a whole baby to raise and take care of. 

You're supposed to be here any minute. He had it all planned. 

His mom should've been here soon, he would briefly talk her through Ruda's routine. He trusts her. She raised him and could surely take care of a baby. Plus, Ruda's sleep is better these days and she's too little to make a fuss about her dad not being here. 

When a knock resounds on his door, his entire stomach churns and he prepares himself for the disappointment that he seems to be. It's even worse when he opens the front door and you stand there, fully prepared in a short dress. Your hair is neat and nicely done, so is your make-up. Not that you aren't pretty either way, but he can definitely tell the extra effort you've put into yourself. 

It truly makes him feel like the biggest asshole. 

You smile, telling him something but he can't hear. He just stares, both out of awe and then frustration when he realizes what he's about to tell you. 

“What's wrong?” Your smile drops, making a note of his weird expression of pure sadness. 

“We can't go on a date,” He forces the words out of his mouth.

It's weird how his heart drops when you suddenly grab the strap of your bag, looking as if you're shielding yourself from him. 

“It's–My mom just called and she can't get on the train.”

“Oh,” you let out. “That sucks.”

“Yeah, um–come inside.” he says, gently grabbing your wrist as he pulls you inside. He doesn't need any nosy neighbors witnessing this very uncomfortable and awkward situation. 

You stand in his entry way, looking around in awkwardness as he scratches his temple.

He's obviously styled and prepared to go out. You've noticed his nice outfit right away. He's wearing black slacks with a casual white t-shirt tucked inside it. His hair is trimmed and styled back. You can smell his aftershave and hair gel along with his cologne. 

Clearly, he hasn't stood you up and what he's saying is the truth.

It's not like you doubt him but well – all of this is new and maybe it wouldn't be so out of character if Jungkook panicked and decided to make a lie to save himself. 

“I'm so sorry–I really had everything prepared for tonight. And it's completely ruined. I fucked up.”

You frown, staring at him for a second. “You didn't fuck up, Jungkook.” you tell him softly. “It's not your fault.”

“I thought of calling one of my friends, but they're not able to take care of Ruda–I can't just let them–”

Probably they wouldn't even want to babysit, now that he thinks of it.

“Jungkook, it's totally okay. I understand.”

“I can't let just anyone watch over her.”

“I understand,” you emphasize softly, smiling at him. “How about we take her with us?”

Jungkook's head snaps in your direction, looking at you as if you're crazy. “You wanna take a baby with us? Nothing against Ruda but–we're not gonna be able to enjoy it. She will cry eventually and I had plans–I can't possibly imagine taking her there–it's too much work.”

He panics and you need to get a hold of his shoulders to stop him.

“We don't have to take her to the restaurant or wherever you want to go,” you inform him, “We could just take her for a stroll and see from there? If she's gonna cry and be cranky, we'll just come back.”

You're not a mother yourself, but somehow you can empathize with his situation. He hasn't taken her out for too long, not onto too many public places. Until you count grocery stories and nearby parks. He's by himself most of the time. While he finally got the hang of the feeding, bath and sleeping routine, the thought of suddenly taking her there makes him unsure. Even though he knows he'll have to do it eventually. 

“Plus, I will be there. It's gonna be the two of us.” 

Something about that specific line makes him pause as he watches you. You give him a look, wondering what's the stare for but he just smiles. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” you assure him. “Nothing's ruined. Plus, I think I'll prefer Ruda's company there too.”

He looks at you suspiciously, almost like he doesn't believe you. And perhaps he doesn't. But you giggle. “I'm serious. There's gonna be time to enjoy ourselves alone.”

“I–” he stops, “Wow. Okay. I'll prepare her and we can go.”

“Great,” you smile, “I'll prepare her stroller. Do you have any formula prepared?”

“Yeah, had one prepared for mom. It should still be warm.” 

You both jump into action. Jungkook takes Ruda out of her cradle that he bought for her and has its place designed in his living room. She starts to wake up, her little face twisting as you coo at her while you walk past them. You prepare the bottle and stroller, watching Jungkook put her there as you bring some extra clothes for her just in case. 

You're out of his apartment in a record time, fully prepared as you shoo Jungkook and take the stroller. He walks beside you with a teasing smile, but there's a huge relief and content behind it. 

Jungkook's nerves are put at ease. 

Not only you but the situation proves to him that he can still go and eat out, even with a baby. Ruda has been like an angel. Once she's awake, she just stares around before she falls asleep shortly after. You feed her in a nearby park which slowly lullabies her to sleep.

After walking and getting to know each other's interests through stories, you find a nice restaurant where you can eat outside. It's not probably what Jungkook had planned but it has its own magic. 

Stroller kept next to you at all times, you fill up your stomach and even sleeping Ruda gets a few compliments along the way.

“Aw, what a cute baby! You have a very pretty baby.” The waitress tells you, beaming from a distance at sleeping Ruda, causing you both to smile.

None of you correct her. Why should you? She's a stranger and it doesn't matter what she thinks. You understand why she would think you're a family. It's a standard here. Nobody expects single dads out here. 

Well, not so single anymore. You hope.

“Thank you.” you smile at her in gratitude, eyes dropping to the sleeping angel that's next to you. Okay, maybe you appropriated Jungkook's daughter but he doesn't seem to mind. Actually, it seems like he's enjoying the sight in front of him.

“Your daughter is a star around here.” you tell Jungkook once the waitress is gone.

He chuckles, “Stealing my spotlight from birth.”

“Oh, she definitely helps you catch even more eyes.” you muse, watching him laugh in confusion. “Everyone's staring at you. All those women we walked past. They're thirsting over you.”

“Are you sure it's because of Ruda?”

You roll your eyes while grinning, “So cocky as usual.”

“What? I've always caught a female's gaze if that's what you were saying.”

“Obviously,” you roll your eyes again, “But there's something hot about a young hot dad. You're a DILF now.”

“Don't call me that.” he groans, causing you to laugh.

“Either way, it does bring you attention whether you like it or not.”

“Doesn't matter, I only like your attention,” he says. 

The two of you share a look as Jungkook cringes while laughing while you shriek in both excitement and disbelief. You probably look like a crazy couple. “That was smooth!”

He laughs, “I'm trying. I'm not romantic.”

“Are we having this conversation again?” You lift your brow. “Anyway, they can only look. You're on a date with me.”

It's a diplomatic way to say, aiming at something that hasn't been discussed yet. This is your first date after all. None of you have a certain plan. 

Yet, you're sure to admit that you don't like the attention Jungkook gets. 

“Does that make me your boyfriend?” he asks, tasting the way that words sound out of his mouth. 

“Do you want to be my boyfriend?”

“Hell yeah. If it means repelling all the men from you, I will be anything.”

You laugh, “You sound jealous.”

“Because I am,” he says, throwing a piece of sweet potato into his mouth. “I want you all to myself.”

“Hm, I'll think about it. Ruda has a place in my heart too.”

“I can share with her.” 

You both share a giggle together, something you've barely done before. 

“Does this make it official?” you question.

He shrugs, “If you want it to be. I know I do.”

“Me too,” you tell him giddily, sounding like an excited teenager. “I want to be your girlfriend.”

“Do people get together on a first date though?” he asks, finding you staring dumbfoundedly at him. “No, I'm serious. I really wanna know.”

You sit back, taking a sip of your drink. “Who cares? We kinda did it backwards anyway.”

“True,” Jungkook hums. “Who cares.”

Throughout those four hours of getting to know each other more, the connection between you grew some more. You've found out about Jungkook's secret hobby which is graphic art. It kind of explains the love for his tattoos as well. He's no longer just the boy that partied and fuck his way through his years. Actually, he's not that at all.

His guilty pleasure is eating snacks in the middle of the night, though he really tries to restrict himself from doing so. It's tougher to visit a gym these days, one of his obvious hobbies that you've already known. But he talked more about that and there wasn't a minute that it felt awkward or uncomfortable.

Ruda has been a pleasant company as well, her cuteness making both of you laugh and giggle. You were kind of bonding over her as well. Until it was starting to get darker and the two of you have decided to get back. 

On your way to the apartment complex, Ruda has pooped which proved your decision to go back to be right. Jungkook invites you to his place, not too keen on ending your date just yet and you agree. Though, you have to wake up early to pack your things and get ready for your cousin's birthday party, you don't want to leave them. 

You offer to take Ruda's nappy but Jungkook refuses, thinking it might be too much to ask of you but truly, you wouldn't mind. You try to tell him that but he just shakes his head, tells you to sit down and make yourself at home.

Shortly after, he comes back informing you that Ruda fell asleep. He joins you on the couch with what sounds like an exhausted sigh. The two of you share a look, both chuckling, silently of course because there's a baby sleeping in the other room. 

“Did you like it?” 

Jungkook fills up the momentary silence, voice slightly unsure and nervous.

He glances at you sideways, quickly looking away as he clears his throat.

“The date.”

“I did,” you giggle, nodding. “I really did. Thank you, it was very lovely.”

He allows himself to smile, mentally patting himself on his back for this going so smoothly. To be honest, he expected a disaster. It began like that, so he can't be blamed for expecting it to continue. But he's pleasantly surprised. 

Too happy about today. 

He feels like a freaking teenager and he gets this weird fluttering in his stomach. Urgh! He's not sure how he feels about it because it's new.

“Though you could've let me pay at least for the botanic park–or the museum.” you tell him, giving him a dirty but teasing look. 

You've really managed to visit many places Jungkook prepared for you. At first – which you're clueless about – he wasn't sure how to feel about it because he never went to a freaking museum. Maybe when he was on a school trip. It was totally involuntary, of course. But he caught himself enjoying it – and maybe it was because you were there – but he realized he doesn't mind enjoying himself, knowing it's because of you that he was able to. 

“No can do.” Jungkook shakes his head, teasing you some more which makes you groan. 

“I will pay next time.”

“Next time?” he teases, wiggling his brow.

“Aren't we dating now? It's what couples do, going on dates–”

“We are,” he hums. “What else do they do?”

You smirk, inching closer to him as you cuddle up to his side. He welcomes your touch, throwing his arm around you as he pulls you even closer while he doesn't take his eyes off you.

“They kiss,” you whisper, noses bumping into each other as you let your lips linger over his. Not quite kissing him but then it's too irresistible, he is, that in the end you press a soft kiss on his lips.

“They cuddle,” you continue, “Fuck.”

Jungkook chokes on his spit, “Don't say it like that.”

“Is Jeon Jungkook getting shy?” you tease, kissing his jaw. “You know a lot about fucking.”

“I–fuck–I do,” he agrees, voice sounding almost choked up. He tries to concentrate badly, he really does, but you're making it too hard when your kisses trail down his neck, making more parts of his body alive. “It just makes me–”

“What? Horny?” you tease and he groans.

“Well obviously,” he rolls his eyes, hands on your hips as you sit up and straddle his lap. “Wait–”

“Why?” you pause, cheeks heating up from embarrassment.

“No, wait, wait, wait–” He quickly says as if he could read your thoughts. He can surely see the starting embarrassment and the way you pull away, putting distance between you. “I really want nothing else than fuck you.”

“But?”

Jungkook presses his lips together, “I wanna take it slow. Won't it ruin if we just fuck right now?”

You give him a look, slightly caught off guard. “Why would we? We've done it before multiple times.”

“Yeah, we did but… but it was different, you know?” he says and weirdly, you do know what he means. However– “I just don't want to fuck this up.”

Your eyes soften, taking Jungkook's face into your hands as you press a soft kiss to his lips. “You won't fuck this up, Jungkook.”

“You don't know that.” He frowns.

“Well, yeah. I meant it in a more encouraging way. You're trying and I can see that. I do appreciate it.” you confess to him, silently and softly as if saying it out loud will make it embarrassing. You're a little sheepish when it comes to confessing such things. Talking deeply and emotionally with him. “I personally don't think us having sex tonight will ruin anything. But if that's what you're worried about, we don't have to. What I wanna say with this is–I respect it.”

He watches you, eyes clouded with restraint and desire. Currently having an inner battle with himself, he sighs and leans his head back.

“Plus, I think it's cute.”

“Cute?” he deadpans, moving his head down to look at you. 

“You're cute,” you admit, giggling at the look of disgust on his face. “This really means something to you.”

“Does it not to you?”

You laugh, “Of course it does.”

He smiles, pulling you closer as he's the one who kisses you now. “Fuck, you're really making this hard.”

“Not just this.” you point out, wiggling your brows at him when you shift in his lap, feeling his hardening length under you.

“Stop!” he shrieks silently in horrification.

You giggle, “We could watch a movie instead. Or talk.”

He rubs his lips together, eyes dropping low. For a moment, the two of you only stare at each other. There's desire, lust and impatience clouding the air around you, just as much as it fills your gazes. Jungkook's eyes are the first ones to drop down your lips. Staring at them painted in a nice shade that compliments your skin tone. They're moisturized and never looked so tempting. He's not sure. He can't think straight right now. 

“Fuck movie.” he pants, grabbing you by your sides and pulling you onto him. 

The kiss is no longer soft and minimal, you both practically throw at each other letting your bodies act upon their biggest temptation. The making out is messy and fast, no longer staying at that as Jungkook lays you down and starts kissing you down your neck. 

“Fuck, that feels good.” you gasp, moaning when Jungkook lowers down your dress and starts sucking the skin on top of your breasts. 

You arch into his touch and warmth, craving for every inch of him. It leads you to become even more impatient, ushering him to take off his shirt. He does and you immediately salivate at his pecs and muscles, hands trailing down his back and abs.

“Fuck, almost forgot how hot you are.” you confess. Okay, that might be a lie. It's hard not to notice how Jungkook glows with hotness, even if there are traces of exhaustion every day. 

“Oh, you forgot?” Jungkook teases, “Should remind you.”

“Mhm, you should.”

And boy, he does. 

In a split second, the dress is ripped off you and thrown somewhere on the floor, underwear followed right after. You complain about Jungkook's upper body still dressed, though there's something incredibly sexy about him wearing slacks with chest on full display. It's almost too shameful that he turns you around, getting you on all four. 

Both of you go completely feral. The position making your ass arch as Jungkook delivers a slap to it. He stops for a second though, freezes and waits for any sound coming from his bedroom. You watch him relax as he continues, a little smile playing on your lips. 

You hear him unzipping his slacks, not wanting to get the sight stolen from you so you turn around and stare at the scene in front of you across your shoulder. He smirks, noticing you watching as he reaches toward his coffee table.

Once he pulls out a foil packet, you give him a look with raised brow. “How did it get there?”

“My wallet dropped the other day and someone rang the door, I panicked and put it there.”

You laugh at his story, wondering if he's telling the truth. He looks like it though and quite frankly, you don't care. 

“Turned out to be convenient.”

“It did, thanks to whoever rang that day.”

He smiles, not elaborating any further as he takes off his remaining clothes. You hear the familiar sound of foil ripping and before you know it, Jungkook's tip pokes you at your asscheek. 

You might be already impatient enough, both of you too hungry for one another, but you also know there is no time to fool around when you now have the chance to have sex. Any second Ruda could wake up and put an end to your and Jungkook's desire. Seems like he knows it too because he gives you an apologetic look.

“It's okay, just fuck me.” you assure him with a moan, arching your back for him. 

He spits on his fingers, stretching you out with them and you sigh in content at the feeling. Giving you a few pumps to make you at least somehow prepared for him, you whine his name in ushering him and silently telling him you'll be fine.

That's all it takes for him to enter you, both of you swallowing down any set of curses and sounds. Jungkook pulls back just for him to thrust into you. He finds a perfect rhythm, rocking your bodies fast and roughly.

Jungkook growls, “Holy shit.”

He slaps your ass, trying to keep it down as you both giggle in the middle of it. It's soon cut off by his thrusts you try to meet. Giggles get switched by silent moans and pleas. Everything is heated and rushed, both of you ultimately aiming to orgasm knowing it could get interrupted any minute. Keeping that in mind, you don't hold yourself back and neither does Jungkook.

Despite your situation, he does not refrain himself a few slaps to your ass which only brings you closer to the end. 

“Jungkook–”

“Fucking hell, I wish I could hear you moaning and screaming.”

You wish you had more time, though you don't regret it happening now. You wouldn't have it any other way. Thinking that you both would have to wait for each other sounds like a proper torture. 

“You're fucking creaming my cock–fuck.” he groans silently, seeming to have as much as struggle to keep it down. 

Still, it's kind of hot to experience it. You never had to keep it down. Sure, there were many times when you specifically had sex and tried to be silent because of neighbors. With Jungkook, you never cared about neighbors before. Not that much at least.

“Fuck–I'm almost–there.”

“Come for me.” Jungkook grunts, hands gripping your ass so much that you're sure there will be bruises tomorrow.

And you do. Not even five seconds later, you bury your face into his couch and let moans disappear into its material. Jungkook follows right after you, not being able to hold it for much longer as he comes inside the condom. 

He stays inside for a moment, softening slowly as he carefully helps you to turn around. He sits back on his knees, condom soiled by your cum and juices but none of you move. 

You stare at each other, smiles coming up at the same time as you silently giggle. 

This is the best date ever.

#networkbangtan #ksmutclub #btswritingcafe #ficswithluv #bts smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook fic #jungkook smut #bts fluff #bts angst #bts au #jungkook fanfic #jungkook drabble #dilf!jungkook

[muniimyg]

1: the confession // series m.list

note: been daydreaming abt this jk... enj <3

taglist request: send a request with the title of this fic “aao” // DO NOT comment here or on the masterlist . it gets confusing and i prefer answering and tagging through asks !!!

🏷️ permanent taglist: @joonsjuice @taetaecatboy @pb-n-juju @miss-rainy-days @firesighgirl @whoa-jo @vantxx95 @pamzn @kakixaku @casspirit0705 @tae165 @defzcl @sopebubbles @leefics @ggukkieland @bebebutbetter @yoongimentita7 @boraength @era-genius @4ksj @vampcharxter @miss-jupiter @floweryjeons @taegijns @jeonqkooks-main @ellesalazar @jkslvsnella @thekookiecorner @parkinglot-nights @seagulljk

fic taglist: @peterstarkchrishiddleston

//

The library is your favourite place. 

At least, that is until your predictable love for it comes to a disadvantage. May your tranquil moments alone rest in peace as your friends corner and gaslight you to leaving your sanctuary. Sometimes, it’s for parties. Other times, it’s for something stupid like driving to the next town to watch a movie at their theatre because their theatre chairs recline better. 

You won’t have it this time. 

No way. You have so much work to do!

"Oh, come on! Please, ___?” Hobi begs. “Come tonight! It'll be fun!" Suddenly, he’s clinging to your arm, making it harder for you to ignore him. You try shaking him off, but he pouts at you and clings on even tighter. 

“Hobi,” you whine. “Go to the party if you wanna go. Jimin said he’d meet you there! And Nam Joon, and Taehyung, Jin, and even Yoongi!” 

“But I want you to come!” He cries. “I need someone to keep count of my drinks—”

“Use a marker and tally it on your arm.”

“But then what if I need to throw up—”

“Then throw up.”

“... Jungkook will be there!”

You blink at him. 

“So?”

Hobi lets go of your arm and raises a brow at you. “What do you mean so? Isn't he your boyfriend?”

His accusation has you tongue-tied. This is the first time you’ve ever heard such an absurd thing! Jungkook became a part of the friendgroup after you. He’s the newbie. Actually, he has a whole other set of friends aside from you guys. Why? Because he’s cool. That’s it. Everyone on campus knows him and truth be told; he deserves his hype. He’s good-looking, kind, and a little weird (in a good way). He’s funny and smart (but not in an obnoxious way)... He’s just… Kind of good at everything? It intimidates you and often leaves you daydreaming. 

Come to think of it, everything happens by coincidence. Yours and his lectures usually start and end around the same time. Not to mention that he also loves the library! He usually walks you home after your study sessions. But, yeah… Aside from these things—you and Jungkook aren’t actually that close.

“W-what? I’m not dating Jungkook! Doesn’t he have a girlfriend?” you ask, careful not to sound too noisy. 

Hobi shakes his head. “Girlfriend? Yeah… You.”

Your eyes widen.

In a panic, you hiss at Hobi. “Don’t start rumours! That’s embarrassing for him to be associated with me—”

“Oh shut up,” Hobi laughs. “Do not get all insecure and pick me when the campus crush has literally been drooling over the past few weeks. Everybody knows. Everybody talks about it! Besides, they talk about him being all lovestruck—not you! So, spill it. What did you do, huh? Did you manifest it or some shit—”

“With all the time I spend in class, work, and the library… You think I have time to manifest?” you chuckle at him, ultimately trying to dismiss his suspicion. 

Hobi rolls his eyes at you. 

“For someone who reads fanfics and book loads of romance stories… You’re dense as fuck.”

Tilting your head at him, you try to find the words to defend yourself and fail. 

He’s right. 

You are dense. 

But that never hurt anyone before… So why does it matter?

“Earth to ___?” Hobi waves his hands to your face. You blink, brushing your thoughts away. Offering him a tired smile, he looks at you weirdly. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you exhale. “Why?”

“You’re blushing like crazy,” he teases, poking your cheek. Your hands fly to your cheeks. He’s right. They feel warm and the sudden embarrassment just made you feel even more flustered. Then, he nudges you. 

“Get it together!” Hobi mutters, “Your boyfriend is coming!"

Turning your head, you see Jungkook making his way through the doors. He has his backpack on one shoulder and his eyes glued to his phone. Like muscle memory, he turns his heels and walks toward your direction. 

“Oh my god,” you hit Hobi’s arm. “Why did you plant these thoughts when he’s literally—”

“Plant thoughts? Babes, it’s reality. Helllooooo?” Hobi sings, tauntingly. 

You pout at him, unable to take this lighthearted. 

Then, before you know it, Jungkook approaches you. 

He pulls the seat next to you out and settles in. After offering a fist bump to Hobi, he quickly leans his body over and places his hand on your knee. He’s always done this but why was it suddenly so different now? Was it always like this and you never noticed until now? Until Hobi…

Wow… 

“Hey, you.” Jungkook greets you warmly.

“... H-hi.”

He gives you a weird look. You avoid his eyes in return. Clearing his throat, he asks, “Why aren’t you packed up yet? Aren't we going to the party?”

Jungkook eyes your spread of notes on the table. You clunch your iPad closer to you and shrug. “We? It’s you. Aren’t you going to the party?”

Jungkook returns your question with a grin. “No. Us. You, specifically. You, especially.”

“Yeah, ___!” Hobi chimes cheekily. “Aren’t you going to the party?”

Hesitantly, you shake your head. 

“N-no… I have too much work to do. Here! I’ll just—” you pause your sentence and reach for Hobi’s arm. Pushing his sleeve up, you take the sharpie from your pencil case and write on his arm. 

If piss drunk, please return to ___. 

(xxx) xxx-xxxx <3

Hobi reads it sideways and yanks his arm back. 

“I hate you,” he utters. With laser eyes, he glares at Jungkook. “Tell her you’re coming to the party. Drag her to come! She’s always here! Homework can wait for tomorrow!”

Jungkook exchanges looks with you. With a soft gaze, he shrugs and turns to Hobi. 

“She doesn’t wanna go.”

Hobi groans. 

“Fine. Let’s go. Let’s leave—”

“I’m staying,” Jungkook says calmly. "She's not going... Neither am I."

He picks his backpack up from the ground and begins to unzip it. Taking out his notes and laptop, he looks up and smiles at Hobi. “Can I see your arm?”

Huffing, Hobi shows Jungkook your note. As Hobi rambles on and on about how you and Jungkook are party poopers, Jungkook takes your Sharpie and crosses your number out. 

If piss drunk, please return to ___. Jungkook

(xxx) xxx-xxxx <3

(xxx) xxx-xxxx

For the second time tonight, Hobi reads his arm sideways and yanks it back. He squints at the unfamiliar number. 

“Why’d you cross her number out? Whose number is this?” Hobi asks. 

“Mine,” Jungkook states, smiling at the correction. “Call me if you need anything.”

“What? Why?”

Jungkook blinks. “I’m not really crazy about ___’s number being on your arm for other guys to have and call her with.”

Hobi’s mouth drops. He slowly turns to you and gulps. Blinking at you slowly, he gives you crazy eyes. “You can not be this dense, ___. Jungkook is literally ripping me into shreds in his head right now—”

You laugh.

“Go. Have fun! Call me if you need anything.”

Hobi turns to Jungkook. 

Jungkook smiles at him sweetly with his eyes closed. He shakes his head slowly and wiggles his finger at him. “Don’t call her.”

With that, Hobi grumbles a few exchanges before packing his stuff up. He waves goodbye and tells you that you’re lame one last time. You agree with him and wave him goodbye. As he leaves, Jungkook moves his chair closer to you. 

“So… Same schedule? Study until 9PM and then I walk you home? Or are you hungry tonight? Maybe we can wrap this up by 7:30PM and grab a bite to eat? I know a really good burger spot just up campus—why’d you do that?”

Your body stiffens.

“Do what?”

Jungkook eyes your chair distance. 

“You moved away.”

What the heck… How did he even notice? It’s not like you moved across the table! You just moved like… Half an inch. 

“No, I didn’t,” you deny. “But yeah… Sure! I’ve been craving a good burger with extra cheese—what are you doing?”

“I’m moving closer to you.”

“Why?”

“Because you lied to my face and moved away.”

“N-no!” 

Jungkook inches his face closer to yours. He boops your nose and scrunches his. “You sniff whenever you lie. Did you know that?”

“N-no…”

“Now you do.”

For the first time ever… You lose your breath. It’s like you forgot how to breathe. He’s so close to you. His eyes are so doey, you’re literally getting lost in them. The scar he has on his left cheek… You can see it so clearly—the detail of how his skin healed and all. His hair is brushing above his eyebrows and you can’t help but realize how much you like the way it falls on his face. He’s… Cute?

Oh god. 

“D-dont do that—uhh—” You move away from him. This time, there’s an obvious space between you two. Jungkook straightens his posture, completely confused by your burst of emotion. It’s… Conflicting? He swears you two were about to kiss… Now, what’s going on?

“___? What’s wrong?” Jungkook asks with a gentle tone. 

You turn away and shove your notes to your face. Mumbling into the paper, you tell him what’s on your mind. “Everyone thinks you have a crush on me and it’s embarrassing.”

Jungkook doesn’t hear you well. 

“Say that again,” he requests. Without warning, he takes the paper from your hands, leaving you to face him. “Don’t act all cute. What is it?”

You stay silent and contemplate.

Was this worth saying? Was this worth addressing? Would it change anything between you two after? What about the burgers? You’ve been craving a cheesy burger like crazy—

“It’s fine if you don’t feel comfortable. You can tell me later or never. I don’t mean to be pushy—”

Then, you blurt it out. 

“Everyone thinks you have a crush on me… Or something.” 

Jungkook doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t hold his breath. 

He doesn’t deny it. 

“I do have a crush on you.”

Your throat feels dry. What?! Has he lost his mind?

“W-what? You can’t j-just—”

Jungkook tilts his head and pouts. 

“I don’t really understand why I should deny it. Why should I lie? Why should I make an excuse? This is how I feel. You just found out earlier than the confession… I guess this is it though, right?” He laughs. 

You hit his chest. 

“This isn’t funny!”

“Why can’t it be funny?” Jungkook laughs even harder. He catches your wrist and holds you still. “Doesn’t it make you laugh? That everybody on campus watched me wait outside your classes every day for almost 3 months… That everybody waits on me to go to parties but I don’t show up because I rather walk you home and stay home… That everybody on campus watched me enter this goddamn library of a snoozefest—”

“Hey! I like it here.”

“Yeah,” he rolls his eyes at you. “I like you. That’s why I’m here.”

“I… I thought you wanted to study.”

Jungkook laughs even louder, earning a few hushes from others nearby. He groans, throwing his head back. “I can’t even fucking laugh in here without getting in trouble. Why the hell would I like this place?”

“... To study!”

“To be with you.” 

You shut up. 

No words, no thoughts, no feelings. 

Okay…

Feelings. Lots of them. 

“I don’t understand why you’re so overwhelmed,” Jungkook murmurs, leaning his head against your shoulders. “I thought you knew. I thought you figured it out by now. I wasn't exactly discrete."

You sit still, not knowing if you should move or let him settle in. Before you can decide, he sits himself up and grabs your hand. He squeezes it tightly and brings it to his lips. Kissing your hand, he looks at you. 

“Doesn’t matter if you’re dense. Doesn’t matter if you don’t know how you feel right now. I’ll win you over… You’ll fold."

You yank your hand away from him. In response, he leans over and kisses the side of your head instead. You gasp, but your cheeks blush. Quickly, you cover your face with your hands. He laughs heartily, tugging you close to him. You bury your face in his chest and groan at the sinking feeling of wanting to be anywhere but here. This was humiliating!

And just when you think it can't get any worse, Jungkook wraps his arms around you and hugs you tight. As he pats your back, he murmurs—

"You're falling for me already, aren't you?"

#bts fluff #jungkook fluff #jungkook imagine #jungkook scenario #jungkook x yn #jungkook uni au #jungkook fanfic #jungkook one shot #jungkook drabble series #bts scenario #bts fanfic #bts imagine #bts x yn

[roguerogerss]

The President

Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x Reader

W/C: 3.2k

Warnings: SMUT!!, Livia is also a warning.

(this is getting out of hand now. someone please for the love of GOD stop me from writing these. also the president thing got away from me in this one and i feel sick.) (EDIT: here’s part 2 babes, as requested!) (requests r open, send me stuff here)

-

“Well, Felix will obviously get it." You'd hardly been listening to the conversation at hand, but Lysistrata seemed to be making a point that you wouldn't want to miss, given her excessive gesturing whilst talking, "His father was the last President, and he was great, I'm sure they'll take that into consideration-"

"But Festus is smarter." Livia cut in, snippish as always, pointed nose turned up and drink poised, looking like a judging, middle-aged woman. "And he's got the grades to prove it. And he was thought of very highly within the University, you know."

"But what about Pup? Surely he'll make a better president than Festus, and I dare say Felix, aswell." Clemensia was next to make her point, "Eugh, thinking about Festus at school, how sloppy he was," She'd turned to you, now, "Do you remember that? How on earth could he make a good president?"

"But he's different now, Clemmie, such a great husband, and he'll be such a great President, when he gets the position later." Livia was always so disgustingly sure of herself, it made you want to tell her to shut up, and then, after the fact, lock yourself in your apartment for the next few hours and scream into a pillow. "What about you, Y/N? Who do you think will get it?"

You hadn't even bothered to listen to what the rest of the women thought the pros and cons of their respective husbands being President of Panem, were. Your ears had only really perked up upon hearing your name come from Livia's puckered little mouth. "Well, I think you're discounting Coriolanus."

This warranted an eruption of laughter from all of the women around you, Clemmie laughed so hard that she had to grip your arm for support, and Livia pointed her glass at the rest of your former classmates and laughed with them over your statement. "You can't be serious!" Livia shrieked. "I mean, I know he's your husband and all, sweetie, but he's a total rule breaker, they need someone reliable, trustworthy! Your Coriolanus isn't anything of the sort."

Your Coriolanus. It almost made your face crack into a smile, and you had to roll your tongue around in your mouth to keep from giggling like the schoolgirl you once were. You'd only been married to Coriolanus for three days, but you'd had to postpone your honeymoon so that he could go ahead with his running for President of Panem. It didn't feel quite real, yet, that you'd married your childhood sweetheart, and hearing Livia refer to him as your husband, as much as you hated her, made your head spin with happiness.

"He'd be more than capable, Livia. He's smart, incredibly smart, and that's been recognised, too. And he's seen more of Panem than anyone you'd consider to be a prime candidate. Dr Gaul loves him, surely her vote is better counted than most anyone else's." You countered. Normally, you wouldn't involve yourself with such arguments. Your high school friends had been married a lot longer than you had, settled at twenty as opposed to your wedding at twenty-three, and you'd always had the gruelling job of listening in on them competing with eachother.

Who's husband was best at this, who's was best at that? Who's father-in-law was richest, who's husband had bought them the bigger house after the wedding, who's husband fucked them the most and who's was best? You'd vowed to yourself that, when the time came, and you and Coryo finally married, you wouldn't bother telling anyone much of your personal life.

"I suppose you have a point." Clemensia was easily the nicest out of your friends, the only one you really enjoyed the company of, and she liked Coriolanus, too. While the others only seemed to slander him, what with his stint in the games and his time as a Peacekeeper, she only ever seemed to speak about him from a place of friendship. "Coriolanus is smart, and Dr Gaul adores him, remember when we mentored? He'd have won the Plinth prize, for sure, if everything else hadn't happened."

"But it did, though, Clemensia. It did happen, and I think his chances have been ruined, if I'm honest." Lysistrata made her first comment in a few minutes.

"They've definitely been ruined. I mean, half of the Capitol think he's a rebel." Livia scoffed.

"But the other half think he's brilliant. A young, complex mind. Someone who doesn't think like the rest of us do." You took a sip from your drink, and Livia scowled at you. She knew you were right, and, although Livia always had a counter argument, she seemed lost on this one. "I suppose we'll have to wait. Maybe the half of us who think he's great will outweigh the half who don't."

"I suppose we will, slim chance and all, but..." Livia shrugged and clicked her tongue. "We won't be waiting too long, look."

She gestured to the television, which had been playing commentary from Lucretius 'Lucky' Flickerman, and had now switched to all four men standing uniformly on a stage, crowds surrounding them. Lucky uttered something about how the last votes had now been cast, and so it was time to announce the President.

Livia gasped and grabbed your hand, then Lysistrata's, and Clemensia took hold of your other one, giving it a slight squeeze and sending a small smile your way. "This is it!" Livia announced dramatically.

"Hold tight, ladies! One of us is about to be First Lady of Panem." It was painfully obvious, when Livia said 'one of us', that she meant herself. You knew she wouldn't even think about being happy for any of the rest of you, should it be anyone other than Festus claiming the title.

"Here, we have our four presidential candidates." Lucky announced on the television, "All Academy and University graduates, we have, Festus Creed, Felix Ravinstill, Pliny Harrington, and, last but not least, Coriolanus Snow!"

You smiled softly when the camera panned over the boys on stage, your childhood friends, your husband, standing side by side, all up for the position of President. Coriolanus' suit was pressed to perfection by Tigris, and you'd done his hair for him that morning, he looked amazing - handsome, professional, presidential.

"Now, in this envelope, I have the name of the man, out of these four, who will become President of Panem." Lucky flashed a black and gold envelope, and then stalled for a few seconds, having a pigeon fly out of his sleeve, and making an out of place remark about magic.

"The time has come." The broadcast was incredibly dramatic, and you wished he'd just cut the unnecessary stuff and put you all out of your misery. "The new President of Panem, is..."

The silence of Lucky's pause was filled with Livia clamping a hand over her mouth and squealing, you wished even further that she would just be quiet.

"Coriolanus Snow!"

You'd hardly been expecting him to actually win, but Coryo had put so much of himself into his campaign, and you felt a huge sense of pride wash over you as the cameras closed in on him and his face lit up in one of his stunning, toothy grins. Your eyes widened in shock, and you heard Clemmie laugh excitedly.

"Congratulations!" She let go of your hand and threw her arms around you. "Coriolanus deserves this, really, he does, and so do you!"

You hadn't a clue what to say to anyone, whether to revel in your glory or to extend your sympathy that their husbands hadn't won, but, when you turned to see Livia's face, bright red and obviously stewing in anger, and Lysistrata's dropped in sheer disappointment, you almost laughed out loud.

"I suppose the part of the Capitol who love Coryo is bigger than the part who don't." You smiled sweetly at Livia. "I wish Festus better luck next time.”

-

The rest of the day dragged on, Livia had only been letting her anger fester and had hardly said a word since the announcement - you certainly weren't complaining - and the rest of the girls were simply flooding you with questions, congratulations, and stories from when they'd been growing up with Coriolanus, as though reminding you of the fact they'd been there since before he was President.

The reporters had become an issue, too. Coryo had warned you about them, kneeling in front of you after fastening the straps of your high heels that morning. "They'll try to bleed you dry, whether I win or not. Just try to ignore them, don't give them much. All they want is a story." And then, he'd kissed you and smoothed your hair down, soothing you on what he knew was already a nerve-wracking morning.

You tried to remember his words, solidified with that kiss, every time they approached you. Don't give them too much, but don't give them nothing, ignore them where you can, wait until you've been properly trained on how to give interviews. It began to dawn on you that your entire life might start to feel like this, now, and you made a mental note to tell Coryo all of your concerns later and let him silence them for you.

You didn't see your husband for almost an hour after the announcement, and most of the women you'd been with before the broadcast were badly drunk by the time he showed his face. It was in the middle of a particularly slurred story, about something that Clemmie absolutely should not have been telling every female University graduate that she knew, that you'd felt the large, familiar hand snake it's way around your waist.

You turned to find Coryo standing there, beaming down at you. "Hello, First Lady." He mused. You smiled so widely at him, and quickly pulled his face down to connect your lips in an almost too suggestive kiss, earning whoops from the crowd of girls you'd gone to school with.

"Sorry, ladies, I'm going to borrow my wife for a while, if you don't mind." Coryo smiled to everyone, and then accepted side-hugs and kisses on the cheek and congratulations from everybody around you.

Afterwards, he quickly pressed his hands to either side of your waist and started to guide you through the crowd of people, avoiding reporters where he could and, where he couldn't, telling them he'd give them a proper interview later, but had somewhere to be at that moment. Most everyone you passed would clap him on the shoulder or shriek something that sounded congratulatory.

Eventually, you reached an empty hall, with large hardwood doors and, inside, marble pillars and polished stone floors. You looked around, amazed, you'd never been to this particular building before, but every room you'd gone into so far was a marvel in itself.

"I don't have long, shouldn't even be away from everything going on at all, but I couldn't resist seeing you any longer." Coryo admitted, face flushed as though this was a first date. You smiled gratefully at him.

"Thought I was going to die if I had to speak to anyone else from the Academy. I mean, how annoying is everyone we went to school with?" Coryo chuckled, approaching you and enveloping you in his arms. His suit smelled of roses, like always, and it calmed you so deeply that you wanted to stay that way forever, inhaling his scent and forgetting about every other responsibility you had.

"I'm sorry I left you with them for so long. Especially Livia, even Festus isn't as mad as she is." Coryo held you at an arms length and smoothed your hair affectionately. You leaned into his hand.

"She's certainly been a pleasure." You joked.

Coriolanus laughed and then, quickly, his lips were on yours, catching you off guard and making you smile against him. "Wanted to come and see you because I couldn't stop thinking about you." He explained, lips becoming rougher on yours by the second.

You knew exactly what he meant, as his hand squeezed your waist and he backed you into one of the pillars. "That car ride here, you're such a tease, and all for me, hmm?"

"All for you." You agreed, breathlessly.

"Such a bad girl, though. Getting me all riled up like that and not doing anything about it. Making me flustered, I was struggling to talk to people, just thinking about fucking you." His fingers ran from your cheek, down your neck and to your collarbone, which was exposed and red hot with arousal, "And you're so flushed, honey, makes me wonder if, maybe, you did this on purpose. Maybe you wanted me to think about it all day, wanted me to be pining for you, didn't you?"

You were quiet, just revelling in the way his rough fingers felt against your skin. Coryo’s voice hardened slightly, and the sense of authority had you sucking your bottom lip between your teeth. “Answer me, sweetheart."

"I wanted you to think of me, Coryo." You reached out and brushed a stray curl from his forehead. “I love knowing you're thinking about me."

"Oh, baby, I'm always thinking about you." His eyes raked over your body and you suddenly felt naked under his gaze. “But I think, after your little stint earlier, getting me so hard in the car and then having me walk through a crowd like that where you knew people would see, you need to be punished."

"Mm," You hummed. "And what would my punishment be, President Snow."

Coryo practically growled upon hearing you call him that, the power of it all, and he gripped you roughly by the back of the neck and slammed his lips onto yours, a clash of teeth and tongue, so rough, so hot. "I wasn't going to do this, but, I have to take care of this," He pointed to his clothed, but very obvious erection. "So, be a good girl and bend over that railing for me, will you?"

"What?" Your voice was blunt and your eyes wide. Never had Coryo asked you to do anything of the sort. You were all for commands in the bedroom, in the kitchen, even in the car, but he'd never been so public about it. "Coryo, there are so many people out there. Someone could walk in."

"I don't care, sugar, I'm the President now, remember?" His fingers had curled around your chin, tilting it upwards for you to look at him. “Don't you think it's my right to be able to fuck my wife wherever I please?"

You felt a wetness pooling between your legs at the sound of him calling you his wife, and at how horny he so obviously was, and so, slowly, seductively, you bent over the marble railing, overlooking a staircase and, below, another polished room. You pulled the skirt of your red, silk dress up past your thighs and over the curve of your ass, painfully slowly, never breaking eye contact with Coriolanus, who's mouth was hanging open and you could see his tongue gliding over his top teeth.

"That's it." He coed, positioning himself behind you and pushing your dress up even further, so that your waist and most of your back was on display now, too. He ran his hands over your exposed skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind. "That's my girl. If you're good, you'll get your reward later, yeah?"

"And what would my reward be?"

"I'll make you cum so many times you'll be seeing stars, darling, I promise." He bent over you, kissing your neck, “But, for now, let me fuck you, and keep yourself quiet. Can you do that?"

You didn't honestly think you could, you never managed to, even when you pressed a hand to your mouth, bit down on his shoulder or your wrist, your neighbours were still more than able to hear your whimpers and moans. But you nodded, anyway, too excited by his proposal for later on. "Good." He gently moved your hair off of your back and pressed a kiss to the back of your neck. "Good girl."

He'd only unzipped his slacks and pushed your skimpy underwear to the side, but that was all he needed, and you were so wet that it made it easy for him to slide straight into you, both of your moans echoing around the hall as he did so.

The sounds of his skin slapping against yours, and your moans, muffled by the palm of your hand, were so ludicrous, here in this huge, pure white room, that it made the experience a hundred times hotter, in your opinion. "You'll be a good girl for me now, won't you? After I've filled you up, you'll be my perfect girl, hmm?"

"Yes, Coryo!" A loud moan left your lips, which only lead Coriolanus to smack your ass once, something that he only did to warn you if you were getting too loud. "I'll be good, I promise."

He was bent fully over you, chest pressed against your back, cheek to your shoulder blade, and his lips being right at your ear had you getting close, every thrust of his hips, every whisper of your name or breathy moan, the way his hands continued to roam your body. "Coryo, I'm getting close." You whispered.

"Hold it. Didn't say you could cum, did I?" You began to protest, but he cut you off before you could even make your point, "You've been a bad girl, and you need to take your punishment seriously. Do you understand?"

You went quiet, the idea of him fucking you, getting you so close only to pull you back, had you lost for words. His hand found your neck, and he squeezed his fingers around it gently, making you cry out in pleasure, "I said, do you understand?"

"Yes! Yes, Coryo, I understand." You whined, "You feel too good."

"Gonna cum." He warned, and only a few seconds later, his hips stuttered against you and he stifled an especially guttural groan against your shoulder as you felt warm ropes of cum filling you up.

His whole body shuddered, and he pressed his face as far into your back as it could go, breathing heavily. When he pulled out of you, leaving you bent over the railing, throbbing and clenching around nothing, a few drops of cum dropped down your leg, and he felt his cock twitching just at the sight.

"It's taking everything in me not to make you cum right here, trust me, sweetheart." Coryo tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear when you finally managed to stand up - albeit wobbly - and then immediately began fussing over his own hair. "But you need to wait, you understand that, don't you? Need to prove to me you can be good."

"I will, Coryo." You helped him out with his hair, smoothing it gently. "Promise."

"Good girl." He helped you to pull your dress down and fix your underwear, and then pressed a kiss to your forehead. "I'll have to go back out there. Try not to murder Livia for me, okay?"

Coryo opened the door, so that you could both go and rejoin your respective parties, but your legs were shaking so badly you found yourself hardly able to stand, nevermind walk. Coriolanus smirked at this, watching you smugly.

He fixed out his suit jacket, and then leaned in for one last kiss. "I'll see you soon, okay?"

"See you soon, President Snow."

#coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus snow x reader #coryo x reader #coriolanus snow #coryo snow

[star-girl69]

I Can See You

Clarisse La Rue x Fem!AphroditeCabin!Reader

—-

sypnosis: you and clarisse work together to get revenge on a mutual enemy, but when that plan involves pretending to date clarisse, something better than revenge happens. requested by anonymous!

a/n: I AM SO EXCITED FOR THIS ONE HOLY FRICK. the beginning is so bad and just like worldbuilding but i PROMISE!!!!! keep reading!!!!!! pls ignore the fact im reusing jackie and tyla i’m attached to them anyways i hope you all enjoy!!

I Can See You - Taylor Swift

(also Dress by tay was the original title soooo…..)

warnings: not proofread, the beginning is so bad i swear it gets better, a little suggestive haha…., kissing ofc, fake dating!!!!!!!!!, JEALOUS CLARISSE JEALOUS CLARISSE I REPEAT JEALOUS CLARISSE!!!!!!!, swearing, violence, mentions of murder!, protective clarisse the loml, ALCOHOL!!!!! reader gets drunk, allusions to sex, MENTIONS OF SEXUAL ASSAULT please be VERY careful, tell me if i missed anything!!

—-

“What the hell are you all doing?”

You had waited until nighttime for a reason, for the light of the full moon and hopefully some peace. You and your siblings looked up at the voice.

Xavier Bones was possibly the rudest and most self-centered person you had ever had the displeasure of meeting. His father was Ares, which made sense, seeing as he had a wicked temper and was strong as shit. Most of the kids from the Ares cabin could probably snap you like a stick if they wanted, but what scares you about Xavier is that he might actually do it.

He’s rude to everyone he sees, but he particularly has it out for the Aphrodite cabin. Just because Aphrodite kids didn’t have skill in battle like Ares kids, or aren’t wicked smart like Athena kids doesn’t mean they’re worthless. Xavier just didn’t understand anything except brute force.

He didn’t understand any other kind of power.

The whole reason you’re out here tonight is to finally finish the potion you’ve been making. Amokinesis was strictly a spoken sort of magic, and it was hard to do it to more than one person. But, you and your siblings had decided that maybe you could try and follow in the steps of sorceresses like Medea and Circe, using spelled objects and potions to execute your power. You had been collaborating with a Hecate kid for weeks now, learning everything you could about potion making until you were finally ready to try and make a simple truth potion- love and desire also opened the door to truth.

Aster, the daughter of Hecate who had been helping you, said it was a relatively easy first timer potion and hopefully with your Amokinesis it would come together.

You look up at Xavier, watching as he smiles in disbelief.

“Oh, don’t tell me you’re trying to make some sort of love potion, huh?” He sits down at the picnic table, curiously leaning in to look at it.

“Get back,” Jackie, your sibling, hisses waving her hand at him so he’ll back up.

“Okay, okay,” he smiles, some glint in his eyes. He holds his hands up in mock surrender. “I’m just trying to figure out why you’re wasting all this time, seeing as it probably won’t work.”

“Shut up, Xavier,” you sighed. You needed this bad. You needed to prove to everyone that love wasn’t a stupid power. You were so sick of Xavier, of everyone and their treatment of the Aphrodite cabin. Jackie wanted so desperately to learn how to use a spear, but no one would pay enough attention to her.

You need this.

“I thought you guys were supposed to be nice?”

You opt to ignore him.

“Hm, okay, definitely not nice. Good thing I’m not either.”

He spits his gum out and drops it straight into the cauldron.

“Fucking bitch!” Jackie screams, Tyla looks like she’s about to cry, and the wooden spoon you’re holding in your hands is about to crack under the pressure.

The potion changes an odd color, a murky brown.

“Oops,” he says.

He laughs and walks away, and you faintly wonder what happened to him to make him so cruel.

—-

The next morning you’re all stewing silently at breakfast. Jackie is glaring daggers at the Ares table, Tyla is ranting about how you need to get all the ingredients again, and you’re trying to listen and join Jackie at staring maliciously.

“I’m gonna murder him, I think.”

“I’ll help,” you murmur, favoring staring at your hands instead of being caught staring at him.

“Do you think Clarisse will let me borrow her spear? How much would that sting, getting killed by one of your Dad’s weapons, huh?”

“She probably would,” Tyla mumbles. “She hates him too, ever since he beat her sparring.”

You resist the urge to scoff. You were there that day, and Xavier had played dirty.

They were sparring, she was winning, when he suddenly pointed behind her and shouted that Ares was there. Of course, everyone had turned to look, and he had disarmed her and kicked her down while she was distracted.

Of course, the next day he was walking around sporting a black eye, but Clarisse had never lived that day down. Xavier had never lived that down, either, exactly why they’re sitting on opposite ends of the table now.

Jackie stares off into the distance. She lets out a small laugh.

“I have a horrible idea.”

“What if we make Xavier fall in love with one of us, right?”

You and Tyla both gag.

“Wait, wait! But then we just lead him on, and maybe Clarisse will do us a favor and pretend to date-”

Tyla snorts. “She would never do that.”

You remember seeing the anger on her face that day. The rage, really, the betrayal. But you remember seeing the sadness too. A part of her had really thought Ares was gonna be there. You remember feeling so, so bad for her.

No one should deserve to feel like that, but it comes with the territory of being a demigod.

“It wouldn’t hurt to ask, right?”

Tyla and Jackie stare at you like you’ve just cursed out Hades.

“I’ll do it. Tyla, no offense, but I think you’d crack under the pressure. And Jacks, you would just start punching him.”

“Yeah,” Tyla murmurs.

“I would,” Jackie agrees.

“I mean, it might actually work.”

—-

You corner her the next day.

She’s outside her cabin, practicing some spear forms when you walk over to her. This is all moving so fast, but you can’t help the fact that revenge is so fun. Why wait when you can get it now?

Revenge is supposed to be served best cold, but you’ve always been a little too handsy, a little too greedy for your own good. You want revenge and you want it now.

“Clarisse, hi.” You smile, she spares you a glance and doesn’t say anything. “I’m Y/N, you don’t know me but I was wondering if I could ask you for a favor.”

The spear stops in mid air. She moves from a offensive position to a standing position, and she looks you up and down so painfully slow that you think your organs are gonna burst.

“What?”

“So, you know Xavier?” you sit down on the picnic bench behind you. “I’m sure you know him, and I’m sure you know that he’s an asshole. He ruined something me and my siblings were doing, and he’s been so rude to all Aphrodite kids for so long so, we just wanna get him back.

She squints at you. “How?”

“We’re gonna use our amokinesis to make him fall in love with me, then maybe, hopefully, we can fake date to make him lose his mind.”

She stares at you blankly for a second. Your heart drops, oh, Gods, you never should have done this.

You’re gonna be the laughingstock of camp.

“‘Cause, you know, you both hate each others guts. And if he’s in love with me, but then he sees you and me together- it was this whole thing about making him see the power of love, you know, ‘cause like-”

She grabs you by your cheeks, pinching your face together, your lips puffing out.

“You can stop rambling, now.” She smiles in a demeaning way, and you would feel insulted if the way she wasn’t gripping your face right now wasn’t addicting. “I actually think it’s a pretty great plan. Surprising, but, whatever.”

You ignore that.

“So, you’ll do it?”

“When are you gonna spell him?”

“As soon as possible, tonight, at the bonfire.”

“Okay,” she nods, thinking to herself. “Come meet me before you do it.”

“Yeah, sure.”

Clarisse La Rue touched your face. Clarisse touched your face, and you really fucking liked it.

—-

The three of you sit by the edge of the bonfire. You locked eyes with Clarisse a few minutes ago, letting her know you’re here.

Tyla fusses with your hair, even though you all spent an hour making everything about you perfect. It would be nice to look hot if you were gonna make him fall in love with you.

You watch as she makes her way towards the bathrooms.

Her golden skin shines in the light of the fire, she adjusts her shirt, and you swear you see her abs just under the orange fabric-

“Clarisse is pretty, isn’t she?” Tyla says. “I mean, I almost wish I was the one fake dating her.”

And she is. She is so painfully pretty.

“I’ll tell you all about it,” you wink.

When you step into the bathroom, Clarisse locks the door behind you. You turn around and she’s there. She looks you up and down. You can’t make out the look on her face.

“You’re really trying to impress him, huh?” she smirks. You ignore that.

The ceiling is low in here, so you walk to the corner and reach up at the loose board. You slide it over, reaching inside and grabbing the small bag.

Aphrodite kid secret- makeup is hidden everywhere around camp.

She stares at you. “Has that always been up there?”

You go to the mirror, taking out the mascara and applying another layer.

“Uh… yeah.”

She leans against the wall next to the mirror, watching you with such an intensity it’s like you’re the one beautiful thing in some bloody war she can’t take her eyes away from.

“We should probably set some ground rules,” you say. She hums. “This will probably only be for a month or so.”

“That’s fine.”

You stare pointedly at yourself in the mirror. You, Jacks and Tyla had dumped almost all of your plates into the offerings fire at lunch, hoping for good luck from Aphrodite. With the way your skin seems to glow, your makeup flawless, it seems she’s pleased by your offerings.

Maybe her and Ares are having a fight up on Olympus, and she’s itching to see him knocked down a peg, however vicariously through someone else.

“Well, you can do whatever you want to me.”

“I- what?” you blink, staring at Clarisse like she just turned into a cyclops.

“You can kiss me, hug me, whatever. I mean, we should really do this if we’re gonna do it. Sell it, or whatever.”

“Oh, okay. Yeah, I guess you can do whatever too.”

Clarisse can touch you wherever she wants.

You look up discreetly. Please, Mom, you think. Don’t let me fall in love with Clarisse La Rue.

It’s fine to admit to yourself that you’d like to jump on top of her, but she’s still an Ares kid. She’s a bully, if you’re being honest. But can you say that you’re not one too after this?

Love can burn down cities, love can start wars, love can end them. Love is always there from the beginning of your life to your beginning. The doctor who delivered you loves their career. The woman who makes flower arrangement for your funeral loves flowers, even if she hates making them for funerals.

Love is always there, and when it’s used as a weapon you know it is one of the deadliest things.

But you’re too deep in this now.

She walks around so she’s standing behind you, adjusting her hair in the mirror.

She puts her hand on your hip. You take a deep breath, you pretend. You pretend so hard it might become real.

She smiles brightly in the mirror. “See you out there, baby.”

—-

You pull your top down. That’s the easiest way to get a man to look at you. Pull your top down. You get a few looks as you move through the tree trunk benches, careful that you don’t accidentally trip, because that would completely fuck up the plan.

There’s a part of you that comes from your mother. The part that some may call vain, but how is it your fault to enjoy the attention that other people are giving you? It’s not your fault they’re looking. It’s not your fault you look like your mother’s daughter.

You walk a little longer, finally setting your eyes on Xavier, sitting across the fire from Clarisse and her group. You eyes meet hers. She pretends to itch her nose, but you can see the laugh she’s hiding. You take one more deep breath, say one more please to your mother.

“Xavier,” you say. “Can I sit?”

He already seems a little shocked that you’re talking to him on purpose, but he quickly recovers and pushes his friend down the trunk.

You sit, your thigh touching his, folding your hands over your legs.

“I just wanted to say, Xavier, that you were right. The other night… the potion would have failed anyways. Thank you so much for ruining it when you did. Who knows what could have happened? It could have exploded everywhere.”

You laugh, putting your hand on his arm. He looks up at you, mouth slightly parted.

You said his name twice and he’s already sucked in.

“Really, Xavier, thank you.” You smile softly, looking at his lips before back up to his eyes.

His hand lands on your knee.

“You’re welcome, sweetheart.”

You watch Jackie walk by. He doesn’t hear her whisper. But you see it in his eyes.

You pretend to blush, brushing your hand down his arm before it lands back in your own lap. He leans in closer, until his lips are brushing your ear.

“Why don’t I give you some more things to be thankful for?”

Tyla walks by. He doesn’t hear her whisper either.

“Oh, I should really get back to Clarisse. Sorry, Xavier,”

His hand tightens on your knee and he pulls back.

“C-Clarisse? What would you be doing with her?”

You feign innocence. “Well, she’s my girlfriend. I do a lot of things with her,” you giggle. “I just wanted to thank you, but I should get going. Bye, Xavier!”

You blow him a kiss as you stand up, and you can practically see the hearts in his eyes right along with the blazing rage. You can feel him stare as you walk away, hips swaying.

Clarisse is still trying to hide her laugh when you start walking over to her. The tree trunk around her is all full of people, and a few more are even on the ground.

You stand in front of her, smiling softly.

“Are you not gonna let your girlfriend sit down?”

“Of course I am.”

She leans back and pats her knee. She draws you forward by wrapping her big hand around your hip. When you sit down, she rests her hand flat against your stomach, pressing you right to her. Her other hand rests on your thigh.

Please, Mom, don’t let me fall in love with Clarisse La Rue. Don’t let me like her touching me like this.

Everyone is staring.

It’s exhilarating.

You twist your face into something serious, trying not to break out into a fit of embarrassing giggles.

Her breath tickles your neck.

“I gotta admit, you little witch, that was impressive.”

You smile and place your hand over hers.

“I know.”

—-

The day after the bonfire, everybody at camp is talking about you and Clarisse.

How long have they been dating? Why did they decide to become public now? I swear I saw Y/N and Xavier getting close, though, what happened?

You’ve been trying not to break out laughing all morning. During breakfast you blew Clarisse a kiss and heard one of your siblings gasp dramatically and mumble about how sweet young love is.

Jackie and Tyla made paper hearts for you during arts n’ crafts, talking loudly about how you were such a lovesick little thing. You know Xavier heard about all of those things, because he stares at you every chance he gets and glares at Clarisse at the same time.

You keep exchanging subtle glances with her, small smiles, secrets in between your gazes. It’s nice to have something like this.

After dinner, the two of you go to the woods to pretend like you’re having a secret date. Clarisse brings her spear and you bring a blanket.

You’ve been laying there comfortably for a while, arms under your head like a pillow.

“I wanna know how you did it,” she says, turning her spear in her hands. You open one eye to look at her.

“I say his name a bunch of times. With, like, a lot of intention. Then Jackie and Tyla came by and whispered “you’re in love with the girl in front of you” and other stuff like that. It’s hard to explain. It’s just, like, this power.”

“I was imagining, like, one of those mortal movies, you know? A potion, or something.”

“Oh, we’re trying that too. Medea used her amokinesis in the form of potions and spelled objects, so me, Jackie, and Tyla have been talking to Aster, who’s a child of Hecate, and we tried to make a truth potion.” You laugh, thinking of that night. “That’s why we’re doing this, actually. Xavier found us and stuck his gum in it, so… completely ruined. We have to wait for the next full moon and get all the ingredients. It sucks, whatever, I guess.”

She listened intently the entire time you were talking. Aphrodite kids are always jumping from one thing to another. Clarisse is so focused and single-minded. It feels good to be the center of just one person’s attention. Not having people look at you, but just one person look at you.

“Every time I see him I think about stabbing him 20 times. Now I’ll think about sticking gum in his ear, too.” She turns to you and smiles.

None of that stupid smirking shit she always does, or those over-exaggerated demeaning smiles, she really smiles at you.

Her smile is really pretty.

You laugh along with her after a second.

“I would love to see that,” you murmur, propping yourself up on your forearms. “What really made you agree to do this? I mean, I know you guys surface level hate each other but, come on, I was just rambling and you were all ‘let’s do it’.”

“I hate him,” she shrugs. “Why do you care, anyways? You got what you wanted. Enjoy my beautiful self while it lasts.”

“Yeah, okay,” you chuckle.

You don’t leave until the stars come out.

—-

The second day after the bonfire, Clarisse invites you to sit with her at lunch. Usually, you’re supposed to stay at your cabin tables, but Chiron is busy all day and no one would snitch on Clarisse.

You walk over with your tray in hand, watching as she whispers something to her siblings. You smile at them before she pats the seat next to her.

“Hey,” the boy next to you greets. “I’m Matty.”

He points to the girl across from him. “That’s Marjorie,” he points to the other boy with dark skin across from Clarisse, “That’s Daniel,” and finally your eyes land on the blonde girl sitting across from you.

“I’m Sarah,” she smiles. She seems nice, at least. So does Matty. The rest just seem sort of standoffish. There’s a scuffle under the table, then Daniel glares at Clarisse.

“Hi, Y/N,” he says. “Nice to meet you.”

Matty is sickly sweet nice, handsome too, and you almost wonder if he’s really a child of Ares. But he’s got that same focus like Clarisse.

He asks you questions and listens to your answers.

He had the bad stroke of fate in accidentally getting you going about your experiments in potions and amokinesis, and you find yourself shuffling closer to him.

“Sorry,” you laugh. “I’ll stop torturing you now.”

“No, no, it’s fine. I love a passionate person.”

You weren’t sure if he meant that to be flirting.

Usually you’re good at picking up these things, all Aphrodite kids have a knack for it, but you think he’s just really nice.

You stare at him, tilting your head to the side when Clarisse suddenly grabs your waist and pulls you closer to her. Her breath tickles your neck, just like the bonfire.

“You’re supposed to be my girlfriend, not his,” she whispers, her chin resting against your shoulder.

You roll your eyes. “Am I not allowed to have a conversation?”

���Not when he’s looking.” You spare a quick glance. Xavier is looking at you, a mix between glaring and starting longingly.

“He looks like a cross-eyed dog,” you giggle.

And to your surprise, Clarisse presses her face into your shoulder to muffle her laugh.

—-

All the time you spend with Clarisse is like some stupid board game you play with Tyla and Jackie when there’s nothing else to do. Jenga. That one where you crack the ice and try not to make the polar ball fall.

The games where you chip it away slowly, one by one, wondering if this time will be the time that it falls, if you’ll be the one to lose the game.

You push a little more each time with Clarisse. Each conversation, you learn a little more, you chip away a few of her walls.

It’s addicting to open her up slowly, to get to know her like this. And when it’s just you and her alone, when Xavier isn’t around to torture, you swear it doesn’t feel fake.

—-

The eighth day after the bonfire, you skip arts n’ crafts to follow Clarisse to the archery range.

While the Apollo kids have all that effortless, natural skill with archery, Ares kids are still deadly. You faintly remember seeing Clarisse shoot once. Even though it’s not her weapon of choice, her aim was deadly and she didn’t miss one shot.

You’re okay with a bow.

Clarisse sees the perfect opportunity to flaunt in front of Xavier.

As soon as you crest the hill, your eyes find his, and he beelines towards you.

“Y/N, sweetheart, what can I do for you?”

It’s easy to switch on that stereotypical persona. You twist your fingers into your shirt.

“Yeah, can you help me?” you look up at him, trying to be as disgustingly sweet as you can,

“What’d you need?” he takes a step closer, about to cage you in between him and the cart full of bows and arrows.

“Can you help me pick out a bow? I don’t know what one would be right for me, I don’t know anything about archery. Please?”

He reaches past you, coming close so your back hits the wooden cart. You can’t help the way your eyes widen. He’s bold, you’ll give him that. Everyone reacts differently under the spell, but their true personalities still shine through.

He picks one up, running his hand up and down the curved wood. He plucks at the string, nodding to himself.

“This one’s fit for a lady.”

You take it, fingertips brushing his. “Oh, thank you so much, Xavier.” You give him a small side hug as you run past him, eager to get away from him.

You just need to find Clarisse.

“Hey, don’t you need some help shooting?” you glance over your shoulder, watching him advance.

Where the hell is Clarisse?

You’re about to say you’re fine when you suddenly slide into someone’s arms. You would have slammed into her, if not for the way Clarisse softly reached out to touch your arm, and Gods, you recognize the feel of her skin.

You knew she was there and you gratefully walked forward, your chests touching, her arm around your shoulders.

“I’ll take it from here, Xavier.”

You look up at her. She’s smiling in that same demeaning way.

You’ve grown to like it.

He doesn’t say anything else. You hear him stomp off.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. When you open your eyes after a moment, you realize how close you are.

You’re so close it’s just one move and that’s it. One move and you both know that’ll change it all.

You think she just worked out. You can feel the muscles of her arm against you, you can see the sweat on her hairline, you can see her breathing heavily.

You could just press your ear to her chest and feel everything.

The way her brown eyes reflect the sunshine is mesmerizing. You’ve been looking at her for so long, but it’s like you’re looking into the surface of a lake you swear you recognize, slightly green murky waters, but there was a whole world under the surface if you cared to look.

But you didn’t care to look for the Clarisse under the surface. You don’t care. You don’t want to.

She clears her throat and let’s go of you.

You back up.

“Put that thing down, he probably fucking poisoned it.”

You turn the bow in your hands, but when you look up, she’s already walking towards the far end of the field.

“Wait, wait, what am I gonna use then?”

“Mine, obviously.” You drop the bow.

—-

After taking a few deep breaths, and Clarisse going over the basics again, you filled your mind with images of a bow and arrow and not of her eyes. Not of her lips.

Clarisse La Rue hates Aphrodite kids too, just not as much as Xavier, and not enough to resist revenge.

You focus on that. That’s why you’re here. Revenge.

Revenge for every fucked up thing he’s said, revenge for every time he’s come too hard at you during capture the flag, revenge for all of your siblings and everyone he’s ever tortured.

“Ok, there, that’s a good stance.” She’s raking her eyes up and down your body. But you’re here for revenge. She glanced over her shoulder. “Except for…”

She presses her body to yours from behind, molding against you like she was made to protect you like this, her hand covering yours, her stance just a little wider. She glides her hand across your arm.

“Up, up, just a little.” She’s whispering right into your ear. You let her hands guide you. Your mouth feels dry. “Then let go.”

And how badly you want to let go. You want to let go of these feelings rolling around in your stomach like stones, you want to let go and let them become butterflies and fall into Clarisse.

You prayed to your mother not to fall in love with her, but maybe you should trust your mom. Maybe you should let go.

But you don’t.

You let go of the arrow instead, you keep your tumbling feelings inside, and to your shock you only hit a few inches from the bullseye.

The bow swings in your hand.

“Holy shit. Did I- did I just do that?”

Clarisse laughs. “You did, baby.”

You turn around and throw your arms around her neck, smiling wide and laughing hysterically. The bow was the one weapon you thought you could never master, and here you are after one lesson with Clarisse.

She wraps her arms around your waist, and even though you’ve hugged like this a million times, you both know it’s different this time. And you both ignore it.

But for one second, you’re pretending so hard it’s almost real. It’s almost a real date.

—-

On the ninth day, it all goes to shit.

Sword practice is held just after lunch, when the sun is still high in the sky. The Ares and Aphrodite cabins share the field first, and you, Jackie and Tyla take your time stretching to enjoy the show.

Tyla has to turn around to hide her laugh as you bend over slowly, making sure Xavier is watching, then when you face comes up flushed you smile at him. He smiles back.

You wave to Clarisse and he glares at her.

Jackie says it will take him 5 minutes to ask her to spar. Tyla says 5 too. You say it’ll take him maybe 3 minutes.

He spars with one person, a two minute match, then marched right up to Clarisse.

“How about we go, huh? Want another chance to try and beat me?”

Clarisse was smiling before he walked over, talking to her friends. Her smile fades and is replaced by the dark mask of pure focus.

“I’d love to beat you, Xavier.”

She walks past you to grab a sword from the rack.

Her eyes meet yours. You reach out and put your hand on her face, softly pressing her lips against yours. It’s a peck. It’s barely there. At least now you can check off a box and say you’ve kissed Clarisse La Rue.

She seems so shocked that you’ve actually kissed her you swear she loses her footing for a second. You swear her cheeks are a little flushed. By she stands up taller and ignores it, just like you’ve both been doing for so long.

“Good luck, baby!” you call as she walks off to the circle marked off for sparring.

Xavier looks like he’s about to light the grass on fire.

“She’s gonna beat his ass,” Jackie whispers.

“If he loses, do you think I should comfort him after?”

“Oh, Gods, yes,” Tyla smiles. “That’s so mean. We’re so mean.” It feels too good to stop.

Kissing Clarisse almost felt too good to stop. Even that second, one more longer and you would have been sucked in. You decide not to kiss her for however long this goes on.

Once you start kissing her, you’re scared you’ll never stop.

Revenge feels to good, and you need this.

As soon as they face each other Xavier springs out with a million offensive attacks, slightly sloppy- you can see his anger. Everyone knows you can’t let your emotion get in the way of battle.

Clarisse is calm and counters all his attacks. She even smiles, which makes your stomach flip in a way that isn’t fake.

Her sword flicks along his cheek. It’s a paper cut, barely.

“Oh no,” Clarisse fake frets. “You need me to walk you to the nurse?”

He grunts and launches an attack that’s just plain stupid. It’s messy. He swings too wide. She knocks his sword out of his hand.

He goes to dive for it but her sword is already at his neck.

He breathes heavily, staring at her, and it’s suddenly dead quiet. No more talking, no more swords clanging.

Your eyes are flicking in between them like a ball bouncing up and down. But they linger on Clarisse. Of course they linger on Clarisse.

It’s so quiet you swear you can hear her heartbeat.

“Daddy’s behind you,” he whispers.

She whips around, taking her sword with her, but no one is there. Of course no one is there.

Xavier runs away laughing, and Clarisse turns around. Her cheeks are flushed, she’s gripping the hand of the sword so tight you’re surprised it hasn’t broken off.

Clarisse is not your girlfriend. Clarisse is not even your friend.

But she’s someone, she’s someone to you, and you can’t stand to see her like this.

You walk forward and put your hand on her wrist, taking the sword from her. You’re not even in control of your arms and legs.

She stares pointedly at the distance.

“Let’s go,” you whisper, giving her no choice and pulling her along. You throw the sword at the rack.

—-

You end up in Clarisse’s cabin, door clicking shut behind you as you press your back to it. She stays silent for a moment, until she screams and throws someone’s pillow at the wall. You don’t say anything.

You don’t say anything but you follow her to her bed.

“I’m so sorry,” you whisper, watching as she sits down, fists clenched so tight you hope she isn’t bleeding. “I’m so sorry, Clarisse.”

“You weren’t the one who fell for it. You weren’t the one who fell for that stupid, stupid, childish trick. I did.”

“You wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for us and our plan. If it wasn’t for me.”

You sit down on the bed next to hers.

“Why are you even here? We’re not actually dating, dummy. You can go.”

“I know,” you murmur. You know. You know you aren’t dating. You know you shouldn’t be here. “But you’re still something, Clarisse.”

She slips off her armor.

“I’m not something to you.”

She wants someone else to hurt like she does. She wants someone else to take the fall, to be embarrassed and the center of everyone’s attention so she doesn’t have to.

“I’ll never be something to you, Y/N, just- just go away. This is over, I’m not doing it anymore.”

“Yeah, okay,” you mutter. There’s something wet in your eyes and your throat tightens up. “That’s fine.”

You leave silently and you cry in the woods.

—-

When you finally make your way back to your cabin at nightfall, everyone is fussing around you. Your hair’s messy, mascara streams down your face, your shirt is wet with tears.

“Where have you been?” one of your brothers asks, and the rest of your siblings echo the sentiment.

Tyla doesn’t say anything when she sees you. She just wraps her arms around you. Jackie stands just behind her, eyes locking with yours. She knows. She doesn’t move. She can see it on your face, she can see it in your eyes.

Aphrodite children are predisposed to fall in love fast and hard. You’ve all gathered around your siblings time and time again when their hearts inevitably got broken.

No one wants to date an Aphrodite kid. Not really.

They all think you’re vain and self-centered. They all think you’re weak and useless.

When it comes down to it, that’s what you are.

How can you claim to wield the power of love when it brings you to your knees too?

You thought Clarisse was hot. You thought you could leave it at that. You thought you could pretend, you thought you could ignore it.

But the more you think about it, the more tears fall down your face, the more you realize you were ignoring the wrong thing. You spent so much time trying not to want Clarisse you forgot that she doesn’t even want you. It stings, like a knife in the chest, it hurts to know you’re making it all up.

But it was always pretend. It was always fake. That’s what fake dating is. The Aphrodite side of you just forgot that you couldn’t find comfort in her arms, you couldn’t memorize the feel of her skin, you couldn’t hear the sound of her heartbeat and pretended it beat for you.

You look up at the sky and you want to curse your mother. You want to know why she has abandoned you. But in your heart, you know she hasn’t abandoned you. The Goddess of Love is right next to you, and this is what it feels like.

Knives in your heart. Memories of heartbeats, memories of skin, memories of soft voices and secrets and the feeling that something was yours, something was quiet and shared.

“Y/N,” Jackie breathes.

The words hurt. You say them anyways.

“I fucked up,” you sob. “I fucked up, Jackie. She doesn’t- she won’t, she never will-”

“Y/N,” Tyla coos.

“I fell in love. I fell in love, and it’s over.”

—-

You give up on wearing makeup. The sadness still seeps through your face, and you end up crying most of it off anyways. A few of your hoodies are just permanently stained with mascara with how much you cried. The tears stream down your face and carry the little black specks with it.

You try to visualize everything you feel leaving with the black specks. The love, the anger, the sadness, the regret. But it doesn’t leave, and you’re too tired of trying to hide from it.

Everyone thinks you miserably broke up, and it’s mortifying to know that Clarisse knows you’re like this, she knows you’re absolutely ruined over this- and it was never even real.

You keep telling yourself that. It was fake. It was never real.

But it feels real, the memories feel real. You know they happened, you know Clarisse touched you so often it’s like you’re burned with it. You say she had to have felt it to, because the more you remember the more you remember the electricity, the charge in the air.

But you might just be making that up.

Lunch is the worst time. She’s always so happy at lunch, her and her table laughing loudly. She mentioned to you once, one of those fake star-studded dates in the woods, that she’s always to tired by dinner time because she trains so hard for most of the day.

You stare at her when no one’s looking, and everyone can see you better in the bright light of day- and you can’t look away.

Tyla mumbles that they’re gonna get up to make their offerings, she doesn’t ask if you’re gonna come. You’re probably not even going to eat more than a few bites again.

You’re alone at the stone table.

Xavier sees that as an opportunity.

Love spells are best to break on a full moon. You thought it would go on longer than this, and he’s only become more emboldened by what everyone sees as a breakup.

He sits down next to you, smiling sadly. You prop your head up in your hand.

“Y/N, you sad angel.” His hand grazes your shoulder, you can’t be bothered to tell him to stop. He places a flower in front of you. “To cheer you up.”

“Thanks, Xavier,” you mutter. He stares at you for a moment longer. Jackie comes back, slamming her tray down onto the table.

“Go away, Xavier,” she says, the same thing she says every day. Jackie has this look in her eyes that lets you know she’s ready to jump on you if she has to.

You think he would stop trying, but he can’t. He can’t because of this stupid love spell that ruined everything. And you can’t even take it off of him, not until the full moon.

You wouldn’t feel like this if it wasn’t for that love spell.

—-

There is one a day a year that Chiron turns a blind eye to parties. The summer solstice all of the cabin leaders come together to throw a huge party, mostly centered around the bonfire, food and drinks and even music. It’s the one night a year where you’re allowed to be teenagers, and it’s not taken lightly.

It even makes you feel a little excited.

“So what if all that shit happened?” Tyla asked. “We’re gonna make sure you look as hell at this party, and then you’re gonna go find someone and make out with them in a dark corner. Don’t even look who it is. Just grab the first random person and kiss them.”

“Okay, well, I’m not doing that, but I will do something of the sort. There is definitively some making out on my list tonight.”

“Oh, as long as it’s not with Xavier,” Tyla frets.

Jackie kicks her. “If Y/N makes out with Xavier, I will personally pay Chiron a million dollars to feed both of them to some horrible monster.”

“Supportive,” you muse.

Jackie gasps. “I forgot about this dress.”

“For which one of us?” Tyla asks.

Jackie turns around, holding up the back dress. It’s sparkly, a slit up the side, going just to your knees. It’s ruffled at the chest, thin spaghetti straps for the top. You can’t wear it. It’s too much, too revealing.

You look around the room.

Most of your siblings are wearing worse.

And you need to get your mind off her.

“I’m wearing that.”

Tyla squeals and Jackie lays it out on your bed.

You’ll forget about her tonight, you promise yourself.

—-

The bonfire burns high and bright, and even 20 feet away from it the feeling is burning. It’s so hot you’re glad you wore this barely there grass, it frees up your skin to touch the cool summer air.

You, Tyla and Jackie had gratefully taken a few too many sips of the alcohol someone had managed to sneak in and was now passing around.

Everything is so funny in the firelight.

Tyla’s tall heels keep sinking into the grass, and you keep giggling when your own do the same. You’re all holding onto each other, barely able to stand.

There was more nail polish fumes in the cabin than usual, and you’ll swear on your life that it gets to your head.

“Noooooo,” Tyla moans, sinking yet again into the grass. She gasps, pointing at the logs currently abandoned. “I’ll just walk on those!”

Your heels sink into the dirt.

“Me too,” you say, smiling as you grab Tyla’s hand and begin your ascent. Jackie ran off with an Apollo boy a minute ago, the first of your group to leave.

You grab onto each other, laughing boisterously as you keep almost falling.

“I-I can bare-barely stand!” you shout, giggling as you throw your arms to the sides.

“Me either!” Tyla shouts back. She jumps off, walking between the end of that one to the beginning of the next log.

“Hey, do you think I can jump and make it?”

Tyla judges the maybe 4 foot jump.

“I don’t know.”

“Well, I’m gonna try,” you giggle. “I’m gonna jump!”

“Whoooo!” Tyla shouts, laughing too. This entire night is just about you and your friends and laughter. She starts clapping. “Y/N, Y/N, Y/N, Y/N,”

You jump, eyes screwed shut, slamming into something mid air and being brought to the ground.

“Wh-” you mumble, and Tyla let’s out a gasp.

“Are you trying to kill yourself?” Clarisse scolds, her hands quickly falling from your waist.

And, of course, the first instinct of your intoxicated brain is to start screaming.

Clarisse grabs your arm and drags you off, past the light of the fire and into a space between the cabins. She slaps her hand over your mouth and you shut up.

“Are you going to stop being such a baby now?”

She lets go of your face and you immediately stumble forward so she has to catch you, pressing your finger into her chest.

“You, demon, are not my mother! So, I don’t know what you’re doing.”

She laughs, holding you up.

“Oh, you’re drunk.”

“Tipsy,” you correct. “As I was saying, don’t you remember, Clarisse, we will never be something to each other.” You push her away from you, heels sinking into the ground and keeping you upright.

Her face falls.

It’s so dark in here but you’re so close to her you can tell.

“Y/N, I-”

You can’t listen to her talk so softly. Being away from the heat of the fire clears up your brain.

“Where’s Tyla?” her hands fall from your hips. “Tyla?!” you dig you heels out of the mud, finding her sitting on the log, talking animatedly to Matty about something. “Oh,” you mumble.

They’re both so absorbed in each other they don’t hear you. And suddenly, you’re the last one left.

You head to a nearby table and chug a bottle of water, shoving a cupcake into your mouth.

“I’m not gonna be alone tonight,” you mumble to yourself. You look up at the almost full moon. You eyes scan the crowd. Xavier isn’t exactly bad looking, and you just need someone tonight. You need anything.

You don’t know where Clarisse is. You tell yourself you don’t care.

You move through the crowd, adjusting your hair, breathing in and out. You won’t be alone tonight. You won’t.

You spot him sitting off to the side with his friends, the group of them sharing a bottle just like you did.

“Xavier!” you shout. His eyes turn to you immediately. He shoves the bottle into his friends hands, standing up and walking over to you like it was his entire purpose to.

“Y/N,” he eyes you up and down. “You look- you look fucking hot.”

“Thank you. Now, dance with me.”

He follows you, his arm gripped in your hand, you can feel him staring at your ass and you don’t care, dragging him towards the music, towards the dance floor.

His hand is all over your ass, your thigh, your hips, drawing you closer to him as you spin and his other winds it’s way around your face.

He’s not her. You can’t bring yourself to feel guilty about imagining her hands on you.

You put your arms around his neck, dancing in a way that would probably make your mother blush.

When you open your eyes, they’re locked with hers.

She seems to have made her way back to her friends, sitting on a log, leaning against her arm and staring at you. Her hands are clenched the same way they were that day. You can see her, you can see her perfectly and she can see you perfectly. She can see you and him.

Good.

You smile at her, waving the way you would have done to Xavier, except now the roles are reversed. He gets to have you, and she has to watch.

His mouth finds your neck. You laugh, throwing your head back, you don’t imagine her lips there. You just sink into the moment.

When your lips crash against his, there’s nothing except hot, hot desire. Like a blue flame, you’re all teeth and tongue, clashing together in a way that is purely carnal.

His hands are everywhere and you love it. It’s like a game, trying to guess where he’ll go next, and it keeps you so wonderfully distracted.

He tugs at the slit of your dress. You pull away for air.

“N-not here. Not yet.”

His greedy hand remains where it is until you shove it down, laughing lightly.

“Maybe later,” you whisper.

“You’re so beautiful,” he mumbles into your neck. “Just let me…” he spins you two around, his hand slips under your dress, against your bare ass.

“Xavier-” you push at his greedy hand again.

“So, so beautiful, like you’re a witch-”

He’s ripped away from you.

You watch in horror as Clarisse grabs him by the front of his shirt and punches him square in the face.

You start screaming obscenities at the top of your lungs.

Xavier only seems to find it funny.

“You fuckin’ jealous, Clarisse?” he laughs. “Fuckin’ jealous, wonder if he’d be proud of you now, beating up his own son for a daughter of Aphrodite?”

She punches him again. Again.

“Fuckin’ jealous?” he says again, laughing, spitting out blood. “Are you fucking jealous?”

One of her siblings finally grabs her and pulls her away. She shoves them off of her.

“I’ll kill you,” she whispers to him. He doesn’t seem scared at all. You stand there and watch, stupidly, feeling like a bird from the skies watching it all unfold, unable to do anything. “Stay away from her. Stay the fuck away from her.”

She looks at you, you faintly realize the music’s stopped.

“Clarisse-”

“She’s not yours!” Xavier laughs from the ground. “The weak Aphrodite girl doesn’t belong to you, that’s gotta sting, Clarisse-”

A love spell only change’s one’s emotions towards a person. Their personalities are the same. They way they behave under a love spell is the same way they’d behave in a regular relationship, except with a lasting relentlessness.

“Shut up, Xavier!” you shout. You’re so sick of him. Sick of his bullshit. He can’t even make out with you without thinking about the next step.

You see it fade from his eyes.

It shouldn’t be.

You watch in horror as the spell falls, you realize this all wasn’t supposed to happen. You were never supposed to actually kiss him.

“Witch,” he mumbles. He was just moaning that against your cheek a minute ago.

He holds his hands to his already red face.

“You’re a fucking witch.”

Everyone is looking at you, for once in your life, you hate it.

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” you whisper.

Your eyes meet Clarisse’s. You can’t tell what’s on her face. You walk away.

—-

She finds you under the stars. Of course she does. You didn’t know where else to go. Cabin too stuffy. The lake is too far. The only place left is the woods, the spots where you would go with her.

She stands behind you. You can hear her breathing.

“Do you need something?” you mutter.

“I was selfish,” she starts.

You snort. Clarisse La Rue is a lot of things, you’ll be here all night.

“And I was hurt. So I took it out on you, which I really, really regret. You didn’t deserve that and it wasn’t true.”

It wasn’t true.

“Um, I was scared. So I made a decision for the both of us. But I’m not scared anymore.”

You place your hand on the grass next to you.

She sits, you don’t look at each other.

“That was all I had planned, but more has happened, so… uh, I was watching you the entire night, I guess. Not in a creepy way. I mean, you look, that dress… I couldn’t take my eyes away. Then you almost killed yourself on the logs.”

You smile.

“And I touched you again and I just, it was so much. Then you were on the dance floor, and he was all over you and- I was jealous. I was so jealous, like, I was actually about to go insane. And I saw you push his hand away, I saw him do it again, and I…”

“Went insane, berserk, crazy? Lost all proprietary?”

“Yeah,” she murmurs. “All of that. I’m not gonna apologize for punching the shit out of him. But I am sorry for the things I said.”

“Did you mean it?”

She just seems grateful you’re talking to her.

“Mean what?”

“That it wasn’t true.”

“It wasn’t true.”

You finally look at her. It feels so good to let go. To finally look at her, finally see her.

“I-I was just angry, and I-”

You’re sick of hearing her talk.

It’s nothing like the kiss with Xavier.

Its slow and sweet, heady like syrup, and you feel like you’re sinking beneath the current of some river. Your hands are on her face, she rests hers on your neck.

The kiss was Xavier was pure passion, no love, just bodies and bodies and no thoughts between them. This is all care, this is all slowness, this is all appreciation. It’s faces and faces, singular focus, one intent.

You pull away.

“I was so jealous,” she breathes, like it’s an explanation for the way she grabs you closer, harder, more, kissing you like Xavier did except it’s all erased. You can’t even remember what it feels like for someone else to touch you, let alone kiss you.

It just feels like her. It all feels like her, before her and after her.

When she finally starts to kiss down your neck, it’s so slow again, it’s like she can’t believe you’re in her arms, it’s like she can’t believe she’s got your hands on you. You grab her shoulders, you have her.

You look up towards the sky. Sorry I ever doubted you. Thanks, Mom.

You could see her across from you, you could see her on the dance floor, but now you can see her.

—-

y/n, talking to matty: yes i’m like about to slay amokinesis in a way it has never been slayed before

clarisse, who is NOT catching feelings: what the hell is this bitch doing to my girl

clarisse: ykw… im just gonna…. take her back thank you oh wdym no he’s looking we gotta fake date obvi (clarisse does not care if he’s looking)

—-

y/n, about to fucking die: i’m a bird! i’m jumping!

clarisse: no the fuck you’re not!

—-

clarisse when y/n is dancing in THE DRESS: oh i’m bricked up

—-

clarisse: if this bitch doesn’t get OFF my girl i’m gonna KILL SOMEONE

literally everyone: YOUR girl????

clarisse: nvm i’m just gonna fight him

everyone: not a logical solution???

—-

shoutout to jackie, tyla, and matty the loves of my life COULD NOT DO THIS WITHOUT THEM

also the tyla and matty agenda WILL be pushed

—-

taglist:

@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison

#clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue x y/n #clarisse la rue x you #pjo tv show #pjo x reader

[yawnderu]

honestly i would die for bimbo!reader to have some sort of Legally Blonde level of intelligence but for the stupidest, most useless shit. no, she can't remember which knob turns on which burner for the stove, but she can tell you the effects of different chemical compounds found in all her favorite skincare products and now they react to an individuals derma-layer. simon once caught her watching a screensaver on TV for 30 min because she thought it was "a reeeeally slow nature documentary /:", but she's fluent in Korean because she got super into Korean make up brands from her favorite influencers and wanted to be able to read the product ingredients/reviews/tutorials, it just never gets brought up otherwise and when someone asks in disbelief she's all "what, like it's hard?"

and simon is just sooooo so so proud of his smart pretty girl. who cares that she thought soap's parents legally named him after a dishwashing product. can mactavish tell him how to tell dupes from authentic handbags based on the inner stitching that can only be done on machines specially made by Italian companies? no? then shut the fuck up. tell us more about glitter lipgloss, beautiful.

Absolutely!! She may be dim-witted when it comes to certain things, but she's not exactly dumb at all. This girl could recite the laws of astrophysics and solve complex mathematical problems while being piss drunk.

Simon is still amazed by how complex his sweet girl is— he knows she isn't stupid, yet it never fails to surprise him how you start speaking to MacTavish in fluent Scottish Gaelic, only offering the explanation that you learnt it because a character on your favorite movie spoke it once, looking at him like he grew a second head when he sheepishly told you most scottish people don't speak Gaelic anymore.

Sure, you may have thought movies were real and used to avoid watching them because you thought the actors were actually getting killed and you didn't want to support that, yet a window of your house is full of math equations that gave him a headache just by looking at them.

I'd say Simon sees bimbo!reader as a box full of surprises, telling him about something new every single time you have a conversation. How did you get into studying astrophysics? You got the highest score in the university admission exam and saw a poster that was shiny and had cute stars and a pretty nebula!! How could you resist when everything about it called for you?

Mhm, the smell of gunpowder and blood that sticks to him no matter what is such an odd perfume, yet it surely has an interesting molecular makeup! Of course it does, pretty girl.

They complement each other so well because Simon has the street smarts she's lacking, and she has the book smarts Simon doesn't. She can be extremely ditzy, but who cares when she can tell him exactly which inks are recommended for his skin and which chemicals can rough up his face? He had to buy a brand-new eye black stick simply because you could tell the materials used on it by applying it on your hand with a frown.

I'd like to imagine her as someone with lots of odd interests, knowledge and hyperfixations in the dumbest things besides the universe. He has to keep up with you buying materials for making bracelets and keeping a room full of dinosaur plushies.

Bimbo!Reader Masterlist

#ghost mw2 #cod mwii #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #call of duty #simon riley #stray answers #cod mw2 #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x bimbo!reader #simon riley x bimbo!reader #bimbo!reader #simon x reader #simon fluff #ghost simon riley #simon riley x f!reader #simon riley x you #simon riley imagine #simon riley x y/n #ghost call of duty #cod headcanons #ghost x reader #simon ghost fluff #mw2 fanfic #mw2 #call of duty modern warfare #cod #call of duty modern warfare 2 #ghost mw3

[soobinsonly1bf]

soobin + cockwarming while on discord with his friends

warnings: nsfw, gn!reader, reader's genitals are also not specified, softdom!soobin, sub!reader, cockwarming, in the end they fuck, kinda exhibitionism??, a little bit of humiliation, everything is consensual tho, unprotected sex, use of pull out method (guys, remember to always use protection!!!), they're so in love fr

!!nsfw under the cut, minors dni!!

it was always like this, soobin playing video games and talking with his friends on discord, while you were bored to death. but you still agreed to visit him every time he asked, knowing damn well he's not even gonna pay attention to you.

well, this time was different tho... a little bit too different, but both of you didn't mind it at all.

"be quiet." he shushed you. his hands on your hips, holding you in place and making it impossible for you to move. his dick deep inside you, making your eyes full of tears. his big cock inside of you were able to make you sob, even without moving at all.

"soobin- please..." you kept on pleading, as quiet as you could. you couldn't take it anymore. how can he be inside, but don't move? pure torture. his headphones were still on his head and the microphone was catching every little sound. goddamn his new headphones, why couldn't he keep his old ones?

"you want them to hear or what?" he asked, not even lowering his tone, with an innocent smile. it made you clench around him, you really couldn't help it... and he couldn't help the groan leaving his mouth for all of the voice chat to hear.

you could hear the questions from his friends, screaming loud enough for you to hear from his headphones. you knew his friends and did it made you even more turned on? of course it did, no matter how embarrassing it was.

your boyfriend was balls deep inside of you while on voice chat with his friends. friends that you met countless times. friends that thought of you as a smart, kinda nerdy, just like soobin, and innocent person.

but what will it be now? will they think you're a slut? just a pathetic slut that can't even leave their boyfriend alone for half an hour and just has to sit on his cock? even when he's talking with his friends? are you seriously that much of a whore that you just can't help, but need him inside of you?

"fuck, baby... calm down. don't tell me you're getting off to this?" now it was just straight up humiliating, but you knew he wasn't wrong at all. but did he seriously needed to tell his friends how much you're clenching around him now? "you like it? that my friends are gonna know how slutty you really are?" he continued, smirking down at you.

it was too much, you couldn't stand it anymore. little did you know it's not the end of his teasing, if you can still call it teasing. he took off the headphones from his head and put it on you. you froze as you heard his friends' comments.

"don't tell me soobin's seriously...", "i'm sorry, but why is it hot as hell", "WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON", "at this point you can just turn on the camera too" you recognized their voices, you knew who they were and they knew you too. humiliating.

"stop..." you whined, your face now burried in the crook of his neck, the headphones dropped on the floor.

he suddenly looked worried. he took your cheeks in his hands. "shit, wait, did you meant it seriously? was it too much? god, i'm so sorry, i-" he was in panic now and you couldn't help, but giggle.

it was nice to see his usual self getting back once he thinks you're uncomfortable. because, of course, you two talked about it before starting. he would never do anything like that without your consent and it made your heart melt every time you remembered how soft he truly is.

"soobin, hey, it's alright... i just- yeah, let's end it now, okay?" you said reassuringly and he immidiately hung up from the call.

"i'm so, so sorry, baby... have i done too much? do you want to-"

"soobin, respectfully, shut the fuck up and fuck me already." you interrupted him and moved your hips, making him groan.

"shit, so you seriously liked all of this?" he asked with a soft chuckle.

soon you were both laying on his bed, him on top of you, his cock already inside. your chest pressed into the mattress and your back arched, a little bit painfully. you didn't minded it, because you felt soobin going in and out of you, leaving you with your mouth wide open.

"yeah, just like that, you're doing so good for me... and earlier you took it all so well... you really liked being heard, didn't you? fuck, i love you so much..." he continued whispering sweet nothings into your ear, getting you closer and closer to the edge.

you didn't left him in silence, also mumbling a lot of "i love you"'s every few seconds. your legs felt so weird, you were sure that if soobin stopped holding you, you would fall completely to the mattress.

soon the wave of pleasure finally hit you, making your legs shake more than they already were. you let out a loud moan, probably too loud, but both of you felt too good to care. soobin continued thrusting into you, still chasing his release.

"so pretty..." he whispered before he pulled out and started stroking himself, soon cumming on your lower back and laying right next to you.

you took his hand in yours and smiled softly at him. you felt tired, but not too tired to annoy him a little bit. "i love you... but i'm not cockwarming you ever again."

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a/n: I'M SORRY, BUT I JUST NEEDED TO WRITE THIS, IT WAS IN MY MIND FOR TOO LONG... but yeah, here's my debut on tumblr lmaoo

#txt smut #txt hard thoughts #txt hard hours #soobin hard thoughts #soobin hard hours #soobin smut #soobin x male reader #soobin x reader #soobin x you #soobin x y/n

[wildernessuntothemselves]

Class clown

class clown gyu who for some reason has it out for nerd!reader and finally she gets sick of it and puts him in his place. warnings: dom!reader, sub!gyu, handjob, blowjob, dirty talk, pathetic gyu as always

"What is your problem?" You snap at Beomgyu, the class clown and the bane of your existence. He is always on your case, making fun of you in front of everyone. Today you made a mistake answering the proferssor's question and he immediatley jumped on it, humiliating you in front of the entire class. "Why do you have to mess with me?"

"Because you're fun to mess them." He answers simply, a huge infuriating grin on his face. You look really funny when you're angry."

You don't know what came over you, you're not usually a violent person but seeing his stupid cocky face makes you lose it and you shove him against the wall, slamming your hands on either side of his head to trap him in. "Do I look funny now?

But to your chagrin, he keeps grinning, not phased one bit. "Kinda."

You're so frustrated you could cry. There was nothing you have ever thought of or done that got him to leave you alone. He has been doing this to you for years, even back when you were at school. In fact you had been so excited to go to uni just to escape him, only to see his stupid face at your first lecture and your entire dream of escape came crashing down.

"What? The smart mouth finally has got nothing to say?" He goads when you stay quiet too long for his liking.

Your vision turns red. He makes you so frustrated and pent up, you would do anything to shut him up. Maybe that's why you resorted to doing something crazy.

Grabbing his face, you push your lips against his, intending to strong-arm him into silence. After all if his lips are busy, he can't mouth off anymore.

You don't know how you expected him to react to that--freeze in shock? Push you off? Call you crazy? You don't know but you certainly didn't expect him to almost immediately start kissing you back. It threw you off so hard you actually pull away from the kiss yourself.

But as soon as you pull back, he's running his mouth again. "Damn, nerd, looks like your mouth is good for somethjng other than eating the professor's ass."

"You're so fucking.. ugh!" You groan, shutting him up again. But this time you don't just use your mouth, instead you raise his shirt up, feeling up his body to his nipples and grabbing them between your thumbs and index fingers and pulling on them a bit roughly, making him gasp and break away from the kiss with a wet smack.

"Oh god," He groans, eyes fluttering as you roll his nipples between your fingers.

"You like that, brat?" You spit, happy to finally be getting the upper hand for the first time in your years of being tormented by Beomgyu.

"Fuck yeah." He groans and tries to reach out to touch your own tits.

"Don't fucking touch me, brat." You hiss at him, "If you touch me, I stop."

"You're being such a killjoy." He protests but it's hard for him to keep a steady voice when your fingers are playing with his clearly sensitive nipples like that, and even more so when one of your hands slips into his loose pants to palm his already very hard cock.

"You look like you're enjoying it enough." You mutter, twisting your hand up to the head of his cock, making him moan out.

"Fucking hell...Are you gonna fuck me?" He asks bluntly.

"Do you want me to fuck you, Gyu?" You ask, and any hesitency over the unfamiliar nickname vanishes as he shudders under your touch.

"If you're going to be handling my cock like that then I damn well expect to get a fuck out of it." He replies, still insolent despite his whimpering and frankly slutty moans.

"You're such a little bitch." You chastise, focusing your strokes on the head of his cock, aiming for maximum damage. "You think you deserve to get anywhere near my pussy after the shit you've pulled over me for years?"

He shrugs, trying to affect nonchalance but it's hard to but he's panting like a bitch for you. "Maybe if you get fucked good, you'd be a little less uptight.

Uptight! Just because you care about your future, that doesn't make you uptight. God, you hate him... but damn, does he looks fucking hot falling apart in your hands like that.

"And maybe if you were getting any attention on your cock apart from your own hand, you wouldn't be such an attention seeking slut." You jeer, getting down on your knees. "Now shut the fuck up or you won't get to cum at all."

"What--" He doesn't have time to formulate his question before you pull his pants down and wrap your mouth around his cock, sucking any retort right out of him.

"Oh, fuck, that's it." He arches his back, driving his cock further down your throat which you readily take, to his surprise.

"Fuck, where did you learn to suck dick like this?" He asks through his moans but you don't bother to answer him. You don't owe him an answer, you just want to shut the bitch up.

But Beomgyu is incapable of shutting up. "Have you been sucking dick on the down low? I didn't know the nerd is such a big slut. Thought you were a good girl."

You detach from his cock to retort, tearing a whine out of him which the idiot is too stupid to realize he is the cause of. "You're one to talk. Look how loudly you're moaning as soon as you get your dick wet. What? No one wants to fuck such a loudmouth?"

"Fuck you." He mutters, and you laugh. "You wish, baby." You smirk, bobbing your head down his cock again, going ruthlessly fast and getting the brat to writhe under you.

You think that would be the end of it but Beomgyu could die and his mouth would still be running. "Seriously, who are you fucking? Taehyun? Soobin? Don't tell me it's that manwhore Yeonjun?"

You pull off his dick in frustration, using your hand to jerk him off roughly instead. "Why do you fucking care who I fuck?"

"I don't care." He huffs, arching his back to push his cock further into your grip. "I just know they can't be fucking you good if you're still so uptight all the time. If you want a good time, I could give you the time of your life."

You burst out laughing, obviously bruising the boy's ego in the process but you don't care. And you don't even bother hiding your incredulity. "You? Do you even see yourself? I'm barely even moving my hand and you're fucking it like a dog in heat. Your dick is drooling all down my arm. You look like you're a few pumps away from creaming yourself. I don't think you'd even make it one stroke inside my pussy before you pop like a virgin."

"No, I'm not." He denies, trying to keep his hips still, clearly fighting with himself. "I can fuck you so good you'll screaming my name."

"You can? You can take hot, tight pussy until I cum? You can have me clench around your needy cock without emptying your balls inside me?" You reach your other hand out to cup his balls, massaging then gently between your fingers, making him suck in a shuddering breath. "You can hold back your hot cum until I'm ready to milk your cock? You won't just break and spurt your cum inside me as soon as you put it in?"

"Fuck, fuck, slow down." He gasps, trying to squirm away from your touch but you hold him tighter, jerking him off steadily.

"Why? Are you going to cum just from my hands? That's disappointing. I thought you wanted to give me the fuck of my life?" You cock your head to side, staring up at him condescendingly, making him shudder.

"Baby, please, slow down?"

"Baby?" You laugh. "Now I'm baby?"

"I can't take much more." He was jerking uncontrollably in your grip but you never let go, taking the hand on his balls off to press it against his lower tummy to hold him in place as you continue jerking off his now very red and slippery cock.

"Are you gonna cum?" You ask again and he nods, biting onto his lip harshly. "Yes, can I?"

You have to say you were taken aback at him suddenly asking for your permission to cum. You would have thought the brat would just do it with no warning. "Aw, baby is asking for permission to cum? If I knew it was this easy to get you to behave, I would have... well, actually I still wouldn't have touched you any sooner. But it's good to know how pathetic you really are."

"Fuck you." He repeats, voice strained in his effort to still hold back.

"You want me to say you can cum?" You tease, twisting your hand over the length of his cock slowly.

He nods. "Yes. Need it. Need it."

"Are you going to be good to me from now on?" You ask and he shakes his head. "You're too fun to tease."

"You are too." You counter, slowing your hand down, making him thrust his hips to try to get more of your touch so you smack his thigh in punishment. "Down, boy!"

"Baby, please!" He begs so sweetly, pining you with his pretty, brown eyes, his dick drooling in your grip.

"Are you going to be good from now on?" You tighten your grip around him as you deliberately move your hand up the entire length of his cock, feeling his precum dripping down your arm.

"Yes, yes, I'll be good. I'll be so good." He babbles, and you know he is lying his ass off, just wanting to say whatever would get you to let him cum, but even that makes you feel so fucking hot. To have that effect on your tormentor after all these years is a fucking head rush.

"God, you're a mess." You mutter, quickening your pace over his cock, making Beomgyu panic. "Wait, wait, can I cum? Can I cum?"

It's a little precious how much he panics over cumming without your explicit permission, so much so you decide to just give it to him, wanting to see the brat completely lose it in your grip.

"You can cum, brat." As soon as you utter the words--as if he was really waiting for them--he explodes, spurting rope after rope of cum down your arm and onto your chest.

"Thank you. Thank you, baby." He cries, emptying himself for you until he can no longer hold himself up anymore and collapses to the ground by your side.

But to your surprise and mild horror, Beomgyu takes a minute to calm himself down before he grabs his own cock and strokes himself to full hardness again, bearing through the pain of overstimulation for a reason that only becomes apparent to you after you ask, "What the hell are you doing, Beomgyu?"

"I promised I can fuck you good, didn't I?"

He really is insane.

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#txt smut #beomgyu smut #sub!txt #sub!beomgyu #sub!idol #dom!reader #just a small unedited thing cuz I miss writing for gyu 😭 #really wanna get out the next yamqn chapter but have no time at all #so take this messy thing as a compromise