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#jeno fic
flashbangstars · 3 days
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Never a Martyr - L.J.N
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Pairing: Jeno x Fem reader MDNI 18+ wc: 1.2k+.
Summary: you are a doctor working at the facility they are holding him assigned to watch over his healing. until it becomes evident he is not the villain they've painted him to be, and to him, you aren't the martyr he thought you to be.
Genre: smut, hurt/comfort, angst,
Warnings: Jeno's lowkey a dick in the beginning, getting hot and heavy in a prison cell, making out, thigh riding, swearing, and mentions of injuries.
Author's note: I seriously got this idea as I was looking at Jeno's Instagram post and wrote it in 40 minutes because I didn't want to lose the idea. I know I just wrote something for him, but this is a nice little extra with a little more spicier stuff than I had anticipated. I hope you like it and have been liking the new album, I'm currently obsessed with icantfeelanything and did listen to it like 40 times while writing this.
“I have to change your bandages” you spoke refusing to break eye contact with him. 
He nodded in acknowledgment and let the shirt fall from his shoulders. Pale skin fills your view, littered with bruises and scrapes. Pinks and purples dusting areas like watercolor. You felt your chest tighten at the sight. Your hands moved forward and tugged lightly at the wide bandage wrapped around his chest and shoulder. Gently unraveling it to reveal even worse damage. 
He nodded in acknowledgment and let the shirt fall from his shoulders. Pale skin fills your view, littered with bruises and scrapes. Pinks and purples dusting areas like watercolor. You felt your chest tighten at the sight. Your hands moved forward and tugged lightly at the wide bandage wrapped around his chest and shoulder. Gently unraveling it to reveal even worse damage. 
The old bandages in your hands, dangling. Hands frozen just staring at the expanse of his back afraid of what had become of him. Breaking, your hands crumpled the bandages into a ball trying to take the anger out on them, turning swiftly and walking towards the garbage can. Watching the abused wad of bandages drop in your feet stuck in front of the small metal can trying to collect your thoughts.  Staring at your hands, the white gloves, the sting of the smell of antiseptic, your stomach churned and you felt your throat tighten.
Why had they done this to him?
Turning back around he had already been facing you. His features now hint at the beginning of an emotion. Walking forward, you dug your hand into your pocket and pulled out a white roll of new bandages. Tearing it from the package, your movements jagged, unable to completely tear the packaging feeling frustration creep up. 
A pale hand grabs the roll in your hands, grasping it and taking it. Looking up at him now focused on the bandages that should still be in your ownership. Tearing the package with a steady hand and then giving it back to you. 
“Thank you.” Your voice coming out quieter than expected. 
Beginning to wrap the bandage across his chest you dragged your fingers down the expanse of hard muscle making sure it laid flat on his skin. Feeling the light beat of his heart under your fingertips. Turning him around and securing it on his back. Finishing covering the wounds
Pressing your hand flat against the loose end to adhere it. You let your hand linger on his skin as if you were trying to take some of his anguish from him. Trying to provide some sort of reminder of care and human touch. 
“I’m so sorry” you muttered, sounding like a pin dropping in the silent room. 
“Why do you care” he finally spoke, his voice flat. 
Why did you care? Your brows furrowed searching for a reason, trying to rationalize all the things you were feeling at the moment.
“They do not care what happens to us, so why do you care what happens to me” he questioned, turned around now he angled his glare to meet your line of vision, dipping his head down. 
“This-this isn’t fair” your voice faltered. His gaze sharped and he lunged forward grabbing your wrist, your back hitting the cement wall behind you. Caging you in against the wall his face now a mere couple of inches from yours. You knew he knew what the repercussions of something like this would be. 
“Your guilty conscious is not on me, go home cry, and get the fuck over it, you are not allowed to be a martyr in this story” he spat through gritted teeth. 
His glare burned into you and your stomach twisted even more, a mix of anger and confusion overcame you. 
“You’re scared and hurt and you’re taking It out on me. If this is what you need to do to make yourself feel better go ahead and knock yourself out” you hissed. 
His eyes widened a fraction as if not expecting the push back and his grip on your wrist loosened. His face softened and a look of defeat now painted his features. Dropping his head to your shoulder, his hand released your wrist and slid down to your hand. Intertwining your hands slowly, allowing you an out at any time but also asking permission if he could. His breathing ragged in the silence as you felt his facade slowly fall. 
“Do you really care about me?”  He murmured. Voice small and afraid. 
“Yes,” you affirmed placing your arm around his neck and hugging him with your free hands, bringing the rest of him close to you, the thought of how he probably hadn’t felt care or human affection in months or years was swimming around in your conscious. Your eyes glued to the window of the door making sure no one saw what you were doing. Now this was a two-person crime, you were risking your job and well.. your freedom by engaging with him. But it was worth it.
Reciprocating, his hands snaked around your body clutching you by the waist and shoulder, holding you as if he was testing if this was really real. Pulling you closer you felt his lips ghost against your neck on the skin exposed, and then press against it. The hand that was on your shoulder now cradling the back of your head. Fingering threading into your hair and disrupting the perfect order in which you had it in before entering his room. 
Your breathing quickened and your chest heaved. Sensing the reaction he slowly pushed his knee between your legs widening your stance. now impossibly closer to each other. He was trying to consume you. 
Your dress shoved up your legs and his thigh dangerously close to where you desperately needed relief. His kisses on your neck had turned hungry leaving small bite marks in his wake his hands moving you to give him more access to your untouched skin. You had been scared to touch him as if you would break him, but he had no issues handling you as if you were his only. 
Your eyes rolled back into your head and opened again to the fluorescent lights on the ceiling, leveling your gaze back to the hallway reminding you of the reality of things outside of you being pushed up against this wall. His hand now felt for where he could access what was underneath the dress you were wearing.  Succeeding as he slides the fabric up your waist. Pushing your underwear aside and finding what he was after. Beginning to move your hips back and forth on his clothed thigh a wet spot forming on the crisp navy pants he had been wearing. Watching, his eyes now sparked with anticipation and hunger as you became undone even more at his hands. A vast difference from the tight-lipped doctor who had walked in 30 minutes ago.
Your hands now exploring him as if he were yours, touching and feeling with the intention of keeping and taking. Angling your head you traced your lips on the shell of his ear and whispered with each movement of your hips rocking against him,
“We”
Up
“Will”
Down
“g-get”
Up
“Your”
Down
“Wings”
Up 
“Back.”
---
thank you for reading <3
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luvyeni · 5 months
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❛THEY’RE ROOMMATE❜ ( l.jeno & n.jaemin )
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p. roommate!nomin x fem!reader w. 4.7k+
warnings? pinning, threesome, meandom!jeno, softdom!jaemin, unprotected sex
— 𖦹 ( maybe those “jokes” your roommates play on you aren’t actually jokes ) !
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You and you roommates jeno and jaemin had and strange relationship — everyone saw it, except you three, you three just thought you were close friends.
“Yeah, close friends don’t joke about fucking each other on a daily basis.” Your friends would tell you, but you just shrugged it off, maybe they didn’t, but you and the two boys were comfortable enough to make jokes like that.
You first met the two on campus when you were freshman, jaemin was in one of your classes, and you two were partners for a project where you had to go over to his apartment — the apartment he shared with his best friend jeno, and you three instantly hit it off, you began to hang out all the time; movie night, clubbing, just hanging around, you guys were glued to the hip.
Then in your sophomore year you three both made the decision to move in together, it would take away some of the stress on bills — and you get to live with your best friends, it was a win win situation.
So, you soon moved in, jeno and jaemin sharing a room so you could get your own space, which you were so grateful for.
The jokes started before you moved in, but they got bolder and bolder when you guys moved in together. You’ll always remember the time when you accidentally walked in on jaemin in the shower, and instead of yelling he just smirked at you, telling you to join him. You quickly ran out, your face was warm, but you just chalked it up to the steam and not the fact that you had just seen your best friend's cock — and you weren’t mad at it.
Or with jeno, jeno loved to use his strength against you — constantly randomly pinning you down, his obvious bulge pushing against your stomach, bringing his face close to yours, like he was going in for a kiss, just to pull away with a smirk, leaving you breathless walking away with his day.
You also had your fair share of teasing the boys, probably more than them — wearing shorts that were too short and left nothing to the imagination, purposely bending over in front of them, giving them a peak of your ass, and most recently, and you didn’t even mean to do this, but you thought they both went to the gym, and you had time to yourself.
Yeah, they went to the gym, but they returned early due to it being closed, but you weren’t aware of their return, and your mind was to focused on reaching your climax with your vibrator that you didn’t hear them come in.
They didn’t let you live it down, for the next week, they tease you, telling you how they’d be so much better than the vibrator, only to laugh when you’d whine telling them to fuck off, your face warm, and your panties damp.
So maybe their words and teasing were starting to get to you, but you’d never tell them that, you’d never give them the upper hand, so you played them right back — tighter close, leaving the bathroom door open just enough so they’d see just enough to leave them wanting a full show — at the point people were just waiting for you three to break.
“Get the fuck up.” You were jolted awake by jaemin throwing a pillow that fell off your bed while you were sleep. “Get the fuck out jaemin.” You groaned, you didn’t have class today, so why the fuck was he disturbing your peace. “It’s almost noon, why the fuck are you still in bed?”
You ignored him, trying to fall back to sleep — but you were soon disturbed once again, this time jaemin was crawling on top of you, you felt the weight of his body crushing you. “j-jaemin, you are heavy.” You groaned — and then it hit you, it was hot last night, and your air-con wasn’t doing what it needed, so you stripped naked, and you fell asleep in the full nude.
Your eyes widened, “j-jaemin.” You stuttered. “jaemin get off.” You said. “Now i’m pretty comfy.” He smiled down at you. “I’m naked you asshole.” You gritted your teeth; he kissed his teeth unamused. “you’ve gotten me with with already sweetheart.” He said.
“Look on the floor.” His eyes fell to the floor, where your clothes were spread out. “Oh shit, you really are.” He turned to you. “Can I see?” You gripped the cover. “No.” he pouted. “Come on just a peek.” He pulled at the blanket. “jaemin stop!” you shrieked, and if things couldn’t get worse, jeno walked through the door.
“What are you two doing?” he stood against the wall. “you guys fucking?” You were trying to figure out how you ended up here, you were sleeping peacefully, now you’re naked with one of your roommates were on top of you while the other stared at you both in such a compromising position.
“No but she’s ready for me.” Jaemin smirked, “she’s naked under here.” You were stressed. “jaemin get off.” You whined. “Ah you’re a lucky bastard she’s whining for you; I told you I wanted to have her first.” You could no longer tell if they were joking or not and it was messy with your mind.
“You can still have her first, if she lets you under the blanket.” You gripped the comforter harder. “Okay enough, get off.” You pushed him off, he fell on the floor, you sat up covering your body. “i’m up, you both succeeded in waking me up and stressing me out before I even had a cup of coffee.” You said, pointing at the door. “Now get out so I can put some clothes on.”
They finally gave you what you wanted, jaemin got off the floor, both of them leaving you in peace. You sighed, fanning yourself. “it’s hot.” You said, “so hot.”
After calming down you finally got up, grabbing some lounging clothes for your shower. You tried not to think about the incident, but you couldn’t help it but think about it, your best friend hovering over you, and your other best friend claiming that “he wanted you first.” What the fuck did he mean by that? You got out of the shower, putting your clothes on, there was no point of makeup of anything, since you planned on staying inside.
“Ah there she is, you were showering for a really long time.” Jeno smirked, “where you doing something naughty?” you slapped his shoulder, he laughed. “Shut the fuck up.” You grumbled, pulling out all the ingredients for an ice coffee. “So grumpy.” He said, “frustrated?” he asked.
You rolled your eyes, “wouldn’t you like to know?” you fought back. “of course, I do baby, that’s why asked, maybe this time I could help you.” You ignored him, fixing your drink. “where’s jaemin?” you asked sitting back down.
“He went to the gym.” You nodded, taking a sip of your coffee, smiling at the taste. “Good?” he asked, you hummed. “So good, why didn’t you go?” you asked. “I went this morning, you should’ve come.” You shook your head. “And why would I do that, I work out at home, and you go hella hard on the gym for no reason.”
“You gotta go hard if you want muscles like these.” You rolled your eyes as he flexes. “And besides, it would’ve been nice, seeing you in your tight little gym outfit, a little motivation.” He smirked.
“Stop it.” You said fixing the rest of your coffee putting your cup in the sink, you’ll get it later. “And stop flexing your muscles.” You said. “Why, you get turned on by muscles?” He wasn’t wrong, you could feel your panties dampening, but you weren’t about to let him win. “Not really, jaemins are much better, be careful he may end up bulking up and passing you.” You winked going to turn away and walk back to your room, but before you could even process, you were pinned against the wall.
“Jeno!” you exclaimed at his sudden movement, how the hell did you not hear him get up, and why are you current pinned up against a wall by your best friend. “What are you doing?” you questioned. “Apologize.” He said, you dry laughed. “And why would I do that?” you teased. “You really want to find out?” his face was extremely close now; you could feel his breath on your face. “Now apologize princess.” He let one of your hands go, you pushed at his chest. “i-i’m sorry.” He smirked, his eyes quickly going to your lips, then to your eyes. “Good girl.” He let you go. “Now run along.”
You wasted no time, practically running to your room, closing your door. “Fuck.” You were heavily breathing; you felt your heart pounding out of your chest, jeno really had done a number on you, by simply doing nothing. You looked at the drawer where you kept your trusty vibrator — thinking about the pros and cons, if you covered your mouth, you might be able to get away with it.
You quickly locked your door, pulling down your sweatpants, climbing into bed, with your vibrator in hand. You got rid of your panties, your air hitting your cunt, you hummed in delight as you turned on the vibrator, pressing it against your clit.
After your moment to yourself, you sat the toy down on your bed — you were gonna clean it and put it up.
You cleaned yourself up, putting your clothes back on, making your way out of your room, heading to the bathroom to relive yourself. You reached for the door, but it opened for you — you would’ve fell had the person not caught you. “jesus if you wanted me princess you could’ve had me this morning, not when i’m freshly out the shower.”
You pushed yourself off of him, stepping back look at him — he was naked, the only thing covering him was a towel hanging on his waist. “My eyes are up here pretty.” You kissed your teeth. “d-don’t flatter yourself.” You said, he smirked. “you’re the one staring at your best friend like a piece of meat.” He laughed watching your eyes widened. “It’s okay you can touch me.”
“I don’t wa-.” He grabbed your wrist, slowly moving your hand across his abs. “You like princess?” he tried to move his hand lower, you quickly pulled away, turning running back to your room. “don’t you have to use the bathroom?” he questioned, “not anymore.” You quickly closed the door, he shook his head, making his way into his bedroom.
You were losing your mind, no they were losing their minds — they were becoming even more shameless, and your poor little heart couldn’t take it, neither could your vibrator, how much could it possibly take before giving up.
“Oh, they want to fuck you so bad.” Your best friend listened to your complaints, gathering information coming to a conclusion. “Yeah, they want to fuck you.”
“What are you talking about?” you said, “they don’t want to fuck me.” You said, laying on your stomach. “Really, well then it’s you who wants to fuck them.” She said. “Nobody wants to fuck anybody.”
“(yn).” She started, “think about it, when’s the last time they brought a girl over?” you thought about it. “jaemin did about 3 months ago.” You recalled the morning you walked out into the kitchen where a half-naked girl stood, and jeno passed out on the couch. “But that was the last time I remember.”
“And when was the last time you brought a guy home?” you thought again. “Girl that’s sad.” You rolled your eyes. “Oh, haechan about a month and a half ago, almost two.” You explained. “isn’t he friends with them? Whore.” You gasped. “Hey!” she laughed. “i’m just kidding, if you want to go through the whole group go ahead, i’ll support you.” You shook your head.
“Honestly girl, it’s clear there’s something going on there, and has always been there, how many sex jokes can jaemin make about your ass before it becomes clear.” You shrugged. “And jeno has never hid the fact that he wants to fuck you dumb.” You cocked your eyebrow. “Please you can’t be that stupid enough to think it was all a joke?”
“Babe no, they want to fuck you.” She said. “Stop being so crude.” You bit at your lip. “You mean to tell me those two sexy ass men, and they are sexy are walking around your house, and you haven’t thought about jumping their bones once?” you hid your face. “i’m embarrassed.” She laughed. “I knew it, girl you better take that chance.”
“How am I supposed to approach that, I want both of you to take me to my room and fuck me dumb?” She shrugged. “Yes, basically.” She said. “Do not miss out on your chance to fuck two hot guys.” She said. “If you don’t, tell them I would.” You frowned. “i’m hanging up.” You said. “Sorry I forgot they’re yours, maybe hyuck and that cutie mark would come do that to me.” You rolled your eyes. “Bye.” You hung up, closing your laptop.
Your stomach began to rumble, you groaned climbing out of your bed, sliding on your slippers, before making your way out the room, to the kitchen for some food.
Both jaemin and jeno were out there, jaemin was cooking in the kitchen and jeno was laying back on the couch, watching an anime on the tv, your mind going back to the conversation with your best friends. “don’t miss your opportunity.”
“Ah guess who finally came out from rotting in your room.” Jeno said, you rolled your eyes, like he wasn’t the reason you were avoiding the common area. “Shut up.” You went into the kitchen, standing next to jaemin, looking at what he was cooking. “What are you making?” you asked.
“Some ramen.” He said, your tummy rumbled. “Look at you, you want some princess?” you smiled nodding. “Say please.” He smirked. “Jaemin.” You whined, stomping your foot. “You must not be that hungry.” You pouted. “Please.” You spoke. “Please what princess?”
“Please can I have some ramen?” he smiled, satisfied. “Good girl, get a bowl princess.” You clapped, grabbing a bowl — he put some noddles in your bowl, with some broth. “Thank you.” You sat down at the table, jaemin made his bowl, sitting down next to you. “Is it good.” You took a bite, nodding. “Good.”
He smiled watching you, before eating his own food. “Who were you talking too for so long?” he said. “Oh um, (y/f/n).” you answered. “What did she want?” you thought about the conversation you had. “Oh, she wanted haechans number.” You said. “For what?” he said. “She wanted his number, and she knew I had it from the time we hung out.” You said.
“You mean when you two fucked in our bathroom.” Jeno walked into our kitchen. “I hardly call that hanging out.” You scoffed. “well, if you say it like that.” You mumbled. “Anyway, and we just talked about a bunch of other random things, we’re going out tomorrow to shop for new clothes.”
“Is hyuck gonna be there?” jaemin asked, why were they both so hung up on donghyuck? You haven’t talked to hyuck since the day he left your apartment, it was literally a one-time hook up, you doubt he even remembers, he’s slept with a plethora of girls after. “of course not, why would he be there?” they both shrugged.
You put your bowl in the sink, opening the fridge to pull out a juice. “you’re like a little kid princess.” Jaemin took the pouch out your hand, “you need to drink water, these drinks are super sugary.” You pouted, “I want my juice.” You whined. “i’ll drink water after I promise.” He shook his head. “Drink water.” You open the fridge, pulling out a water. “Good girl.”
His body was close to yours as you opened the bottle, taking a sip of water. “I drunk it.” You said. “Good keep drinking it.” He spoke. “Will you back up if I drink more.” He smirked. “Why am I making you nervous?” you went to turn and walk away, but he pulled you back. “jaemin.” You spoke. “Why do you keep running princess?” he said.
“I-i’m not running.” You said, jeno scoffed. “Really? you’ve spent all day in your room for what then?” he said, jeno stood on the side, you were now boxed in, your best friends had cornered you. “Well, that’s because — because what princess?” jaemin said. “Say it?”
“Because you both have been terrorizing me all day.” You spoke. “Terrorizing?” jaemins eyebrow quirked up. “Yeah, terrorizing, making me frustrated, flustering me.” You let everything fall out. “i’ve been so sexually frustrated all day and you both aren’t making it better.”
Your eyes widened, covering your mouth to keep from saying anything else. “so, we make you horny?” jeno said, “and that’s why you’re hiding from us?” you shook your head. “i’m going back to my room.” You tried to get away again, but they just moved in closer, leaving you little to no room to move.
“Poor baby just needs to be fucked?” jaemin said, you almost let out a whimper. “St-stop it.” You spoke. “If you’re just fucking with me, stop it, I can’t take it anymore.” You pleaded, jaemin turned to jeno. “She still doesn’t get it.” Jeno shook his in faux disappointment. “she’s a little dumb, you know you gotta explain.”
“Baby you’re the only one who was joking.” Jaemin said, “this morning, I was serious, i’ve been serious for the past few months.” Jaemin said. “And I have never said I was joking baby.” Jeno chimed in. “i’ve always been quite open about me wanted to fuck you.”jaemin moved to the side, letting jeno tower over you. “I actually claimed you first.”
You couldn’t believe the sudden confession; they were actually serious. “You know what jaem, maybe we should just show her.” Before you could even process jeno was pressing you against the counter, kissing you.
His hands traveled from your waist all the way to your ass, lifting you up sitting you on the counter, not taking his lips off yours, jaemin watching on the side. “How about we take this to the bedroom.” He said, jeno picked you up, obviously trying to prove how strong he was, carrying you to your room.
He tossed you on the bed, you hit the soft foam, bouncing a bit. “You’re trying to show off your strength.” You said, he smirked. “you’re really talkative.” He said, you smiled sweetly. “let’s see if you’re still talking with my dick in your mouth.”
Jaemin sat on the bed, he felt something on your bed, as jeno began taking your bottoms off. He felt around, grabbing the object, smirking. “I see taking to (y/f/n) wasn’t all you were doing, naughty baby.” He held your vibrator in his hands. “Put that down.” You go to reach for it, jeno swiftly grabbed your hand pinning it down.
“Look at that wet cunt.” He said once he got your panties off. “you’ve must’ve fucked yourself dumb with that thing right before you came out.” You recalled covering your mouth cumming all over yourself right before your phone call with your friend. “How many times have you used that thing?”
He pressed down on the clit, you moaned. “Th-three.” You honestly answered, you weren’t ashamed. “Three times, you came three times and you’re still so horny.” He tapped your cube. “So, fucking nasty baby, you’re a little horny slut, aren’t you?” Jeno groaned, your slit had become soaked, you were ready to take his cock. “N-not a slut.”
“Really baby, you’ve already came three times today, but here you are, clenching around the air, your pussy begging to be filled.” You moaned as he slid one of his thick fingers. “So fucking wet.” He groaned.
You heard jaemin turn on the vibrator, you turned your head, he smiled, pressing it against your chests. “let’s see how good this thing is.” He traced the toy around your chest, circling the toy around your nipples. “j-jaemin, oh fuck! Jeno.” You screamed your best friends' names, as jeno added another finger, speeding up his movements. “I need to stretch this pussy out for my cock.”
Jaemin finally reached your clit with the toy, circling the toy as jeno thrusted his fingers inside of your cunt. “Oh, fuck i’m gonna cum.” You moaned. “i’m gonna fucking cum.” Jaemin turned the settings up higher, the vibration taking over your body, jeno curling his fingers, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. “Fuck i’m cumming!” you screamed, eyes rolling back into your head, your body shaking as you came.
“Fuck look at your pussy soaking my fingers.” Jaemin turned out the toy, tossing it somewhere. “Be-be careful with, s’ expensive.” You said, jaemin smirked. “Princess after today you’ll never need that stupid fucking toy again.” Your pussy clench at the thought of fucking them again and again.
“Let me get a taste.” Jaemin sipped his fingers into between your legs, wiping up some of slick, bringing it to your lips. “mhm, shit princess if you aren’t full fuck out once we’re done, i’m gonna need a taste of that cunt, you moaned out, trying to close your legs, jeno slapped them open.
“Keep your legs open.” Both boys got off the bed, undoing their pants, taking them off. “I told you, that pussy is mine first.” Jeno rubbed himself through his underwear, hissing. “You want it, want my cock?” you nodded. “So bad, wan’ your cock so bad.”
He freed himself from his confinements, his cock sprung out, he was huge — his thick cock, his tip angry red, and dripping with pre-cum. “don’t worry princess, i’ll stuff your throat when i’m done with this slutty pussy right here.” He flipped you on your stomach, you yelped at him suddenly man handling you, your ass was up in the air, he rubbed his cocked on your folds, teasing his tip in your hole. “Pl-please put it in like.”
He pushed his cock into your cunt in one swift motion. “Fuck!” you screamed. “Fuck baby, your cunt just took my cock so fucking easily, damn slut.” He slapped your ass.
Jaemin on the other hand, undid his pants, climbing back on the, letting his cock free. He stroked it a few times, tapping the side of your face as jeno fucked into you. “Come on princess, nana needs you too.” He slapped his cock against your lips. “Open your lips for nana.” You parted your lips allowing him to slip his cock into your mouth, groaning as you bobbed your head along his shaft. “There you, suck my cock.”
Jeno kept rocking into you, his balls slapping against your clit, his hands gripping your ass as his roughly fucked you. “Look at the slut, played so hard to get, only to be drooling like a whore filled with her best friends' cocks.” Jeno slapped your ass, pushing you further on jaemins cock. “Fuck her mouth is fuck magical, m’gonna cum.” Jaemin groaned.
“Want you to swallow my cum, can you be a good girl and swallow for me?” you nodded his cock still in your mouth, he pushed your head down, grunted as you felt his cum fill your mouth. “Fuck!” he groaned, emptying his load into your mouth. “Swallow love.” You obeyed, poking your tongue out. “Good girl.”
Jeno pushed your hips down in an arch, fucking into you. “Fu-fuck i’m about to fill this cunt.” He grunted. “Pl-please.” You finally got to speak, your voice horse. “Please cum inside me.” He slapped your ass, fucking into you so rough, the headboard slapped against the wall. “jesus jeno.” Jaemin said. “You’re gonna break her poor cunt.”
“N-nah, she likes this -fuck- she likes being treated like nothing but a hole.” He cursed. “isn’t that right, tell jaemin how much of a slut you are.” He said. “I-i’m such a -fuck- s-such a slut.” You moaned out. “See -fuck- i’m about to cum.” He groaned. “Jeno!” you screamed. “jeno i’m gonna cum!”
“Fucking cum.” He growled, you screamed, legs shaking as you came, he thrusted once, twice and a third time before he came into your waiting hole, you sighed feeling his warm seed enter your womb. “Fuck.” He pulled out, watching the cum leak from your cunt. “Keep it in there, I want jaemin to fuck it deeper into you.”
He climbed from behind you, jaemin taking his place. “let’s lay you on your back princess, I know he probably did a number on you.” He was much softer than jeno. “Look at you all laid out all pretty for nana, you want nana’s cock, don’t you?” you nodded, your eyes were practically closed. “You sure you can handle it baby, you’ve been cumming practically all day today.”
You whined, reaching for his cock, stroking it. “Please, please nana.” You begged. “wan’ it so bad.” You spoke. “And you want me to believe she’s not a slut, she’s cum five times today, yet she’s still begging for cock.” Jeno scoffed, your pussy clenched. “But she’s so cute, begging for my cock.”
He pushed his tip in your cunt, you moaned. “You can have it princess.” He pushed his whole cock in, you moaned. “so-so full.” You stuttered, “yeah? You full on my cock?” you nodded, “please move nana.” He wasted no time, moving his hips. “Fuck.” He groaned. “Such a nice pussy.”
Jeno grabbed your face, making you look up at him. “Come on open up.” He slapped his cock on your lips. “Take my cock into your mouth.” He pushed himself into your mouth, grunted. “Fuck yeah, such a warm fuck hole.” Jeno held your head still, using your mouth. “Just let me use your mouth.”
Jaemin in contrast to jeno softly squeezed your boob, rocking into you. “Fuck princess, your cunt is so good, so tight.” He grunted, speeding up, you moaned around jeno’s cock. “Such a good girl, letting us use you like this, been waiting and waiting to finally fuck you.” Jaemin felt his movements faltering, his cock twitching. “i’m gonna cum, you want my cum inside your pussy too.” You hummed, jeno grunted.
“i’m gonna paint your fucking face.” Jeno pulled out you moaned. “i’m gonna cum.” You screamed out, jaemin rubbed your clit, fucking into faster. “Go ahead, squirt on my cock, make a fucking mess.” You screamed, clenching tightly as you your juices squirted out, covering jaemins abs. both the guys cursed, seeing the liquid squirt out of you.
“Fuck princess i’m gonna cum -shit- i’m gonna cum in your pussy, fuck!” he moaned, a second later, his cum was also filling your hole. “that’s it, take my cum princess, it’s all yours.” You moaned.
Jeno held your face still, jerking his cock over your face. “Fuck i’m cum, i’m gonna cum all over your face.” He tugged at his cock a few times, groaning as cum spurting from his cock, coating your face. “Oh fuck.” He groaned, covering your face in his seed. “Good slut.” He tapped his cock against your lips. “Took both our cocks like a champ.”
Jaemin helped you get cleaned up, jeno cleaned up the sheets. “I didn’t take you as a squirted.” You were too tired to come back with a rebuttal. “jesus baby, we did a number on you.”
“No you did a number on her, I was soft with her.” Jaemin helped you into bed. “Awe baby, I promise i’ll fuck you much softer next time.” He said, patting the type of your head. “But don’t beg me to fuck you like a whore when it’s not hitting right.” He left to the door. “i’m going to my room.” He walked out.
Jaemin stayed in the room with you, letting you sleep on his chest soundly, until he fell asleep in your room, next to your body.
Jeno came into your room early the next morning to eat you out as an apology for going so rough.
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©LUVYENI
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haespoir · 8 months
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texts w/ idol bf!jeno!
for my beloved @catboyieejenoo (love u mwah)
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taglist: @ljnono
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ohmygs-blog · 4 months
Note
hi can i req nsfw txts with jealous jeno 🤭 i love the way you write dreamies
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jealous jeno nsfw.
thank you !! hope u like <3
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663 notes · View notes
martiniblues · 7 months
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i’ll be your (not so) temporary fix ; 이제노
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pairing fwb!jeno x female!reader
synopsis you and jeno had agreed for this to be temporary, with no strings attached. as your heart began to grow addicted to him, you knew you had to call it quits but he finds a way to make you stay.
genre fwb to lovers, angst, mutual pining, slightly suggestive, jeno is kind of a douche bag at the beginning, very fluffy at the end.
wc 1.7k
song : temporary fix by one direction
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last night:
"god jen! it’s fucking crazy in here." you strained your voice towards the blonde giant next to you, but the words only sounded like a whisper to him over the blaring music. even with the noise and bumping bodies, his attention averted itself to you, as it always did.
without a word, he wrapped one hand around your wrist and the other around your waist before pulling you out of the dance floor and to an empty corner of the club.
the friends you had previously been with were now all scattered around the massive room doing god knows what, but jeno never left your side, not even for a second.
now there you stood, pressed against one another, and suddenly it felt as if you two were the only ones there. jeno smiled at you before leaning down, making his mouth level with your ear and his warm cheek press against yours.
"let’s get out of here, yeah?" his voice was hoarse from all his yelling, and his words were a bit slurred due to the many shots he took earlier that night. he pulled back to look at you for an answer, and with a small nod, he kissed you swiftly as you both stumbled out of the back of the club.
he quickly whipped out his phone to call a taxi since neither of you were in the right space to walk back to his place or get a ride from your, also drunk, friends.
the two of you stood in front of a vacant convenience store that was only a couple minutes from the club you were previously at, hands all over each other.
typically, you two were like teenagers, frantically trying to jump each other and feel everything swiftly. maybe it was the alcohol in both of your systems, but your movements were slow-paced and sensual.
to strangers, they might have thought you two were a couple. but that’s not what you two were at all.
no matter how much you loved him.
no matter how much you loved when he would call you "pretty baby."
no matter how many times people called you "his girl."
you and jeno were purely temporary, and that’s how he wanted it to be.
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present morning:
you rolled over on the familiar sheets of jeno’s bed, groaning into the pillows that reeked of his musky cologne and your sweet perfume.
these were how mornings typically went when you stayed the night with jeno, which was more than you wished at this point.
he would be gone before the sun rose to go to the gym and would head straight to work after that, leaving you alone in his bed with nothing but your clothes crinkled on the floor and nasty protein bars in his cabinets for breakfast. it was almost second nature for you to navigate his place as if it were your own.
sliding out from the covers, you reached for a pair of his athletic shorts that were folded on the ground and picked up a stranded t-shirt that would suffice since you didn’t have work today.
you checked yourself out in his mirror to be greeted by a familiar sight of the aftermath of lee jeno. small marks littered your neck, and you stretched the shirt downward to see that they trailed down your chest as well.
you knew there were more elsewhere, but knowing that they were there hurt more than you wanted him to know, so you pushed back the tears and collected your things as best you could into your small purse.
you opened his bedroom door only to be greeted by a shirtless, freshly showered jeno sitting at his kitchen island.
"oh… sorry i was just going." your face flushed as if it were your first time seeing him without his shirt on, and your legs scattered towards the door.
he laughed lightly at your state, your hair disheveled and body swallowed by his clothes. he wishes his heart hadn’t begun racing at your cute antics.
"no you’re fine. it’s no rush. i don’t have work today anyway, so you can eat if you want. i made extra for you anyway, so…" his fork played with the contents of his plate sheepishly.
it’s odd how you both have seen each other in such venerable situations. he’s held your hair while you puked your guts out, held your body flush against his for hours, and done other things that never come up in conversation. but somehow, simple everyday conversations with him made it feel like he was a stranger.
at late hours of the night and early hours of the morning, jeno was the most loving human you could ever ask for. he made you feel beautiful and wanted, aside from the fact that you knew he didn’t want you.
for sex? sure, but actually have? not as much.
sometimes your brain tells your heart otherwise. like when he would play with your hair after sex and talk to you about anything and everything. or when you would lay with him between your legs and watch stupid disney movies, just to end up just lazily making out and falling asleep together.
everyone saw the both of you as one, no matter how many times you told them "it wasn’t like that".
this was the first time he stayed the morning after, and you didn’t think this was a new addition to your "relationship" you could handle. hell, you couldn’t handle it at all anymore.
your eyes began to sting with the knowledge of what you were about to do. you had avoided it for so long; there was no going back now.
"jeno…" you began, trying to keep your voice as level as possible. his head shot towards yours, and his brows instantly furrowed at the tears that started streaming down your face. "i can’t do whatever this is with you anymore. it’s too much for me to be with you but not with you." you instantly turned away and rushed for the door, only to be stopped by a hand on your wrist.
"what- what are you doing?" he tried to look into your eyes, but you refused, thrashing around in his hold. "let me go, jeno! i’m done with this shit!" he had never heard you yell like this before, which left him utterly confused. you two had done this so much; what was now suddenly changing your mind?
he couldn’t let you go. not without a reason.
you ripped your hand from his grip and pushed your palm against his chest, causing him to stumble back slightly.
"don’t you get it? you call me all these sweet things, hold me all night, and expect me to not catch feelings for you? i have been hopelessly and endlessly in love with you for months, and just when i think you might even like me, you shut me out until you need me or want me. but you don’t want me at all. i’m so sick and tired of not being able to have you the way i need to. whatever this was is over." you leaned your head against the door, catching your breath from the outburst you caused.
"baby…" he didn’t touch you; he just leaned against the wall to be level with you. "don’t call me that." you hissed, reaching for the door knob.
"(y/n) listen to me, please." his voice caused you to stop and turn back around. as much as you hated to admit it, he was your biggest weakness, like it or not.
you sighed, finally looking up into his eyes, which, to your surprise, were glossed over.
"i’m sorry. i’m so fucking sorry for making you feel like i didn’t want you. it's just- i was so scared that you didn’t want me like i want you, and i tried not to get too caught up in you, which is very hard. all i think about is you, and i’m sorry if i made it seem that i was just using you for sex, but i want so much more than that, you have no idea. i want you to be more to me than a temporary fix in my life." there were now tears rushing down both of your cheeks. the only sound was the tv playing faintly in the living room.
you didn’t know what to do, overcome with so much love and anger for this man standing right in front of you. you dropped your belongings to the floor to quickly wrap your arms around his neck and pull him flush against you. his hands winding around your waist and bunching your (his) shirt between his fingers.
"i’m so sorry (y/n)." he sobbed into your neck. you shushed him before he began swaying your bodies from side to side. you two stayed like that for a few more minutes, completely absorbing each other.
"god…" you laughed and sniffled as you pulled back slightly so you could look at jeno’s face. he giggled slightly, his face pulling into your favorite sight. your fingers ran through his soft blond locks as his hands ran over your back.
you both looked into each other's eyes with so much desire and need but refused to move, too scared to make a mess of what was now just beginning to become clean.
"i meant everything i said. i would have talked for hours if you had let me." his voice came out scratchy from crying but somehow lifted the last bit of regret from your shoulders.
without another word, you moved one of your hands to his neck and smashed his lips against yours. it was intense but slow, and both of you were relieved with the knowledge of wanting one another.
his hands combed through your hair before he pulled away and rested his head against yours. "i want to have you as much as you’ll let me. i don’t care if it’s now or if you need time, but i’ll wait for you." his eyes were closed as he spoke to you, hoping you would believe him.
"even if i needed time, i don’t think that’s possible when it comes to you." you laughed, kissing him one last time before pulling away entirely to lean against the door once more.
this time, he followed you and placed his hands on your waist, making no move to take things further. "just…" he began, leaning his head on the wall as close to yours as possible while your hands came to stroke his forearms.
"let me be your goodnight."
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© martiniblues | do not copy or translate my work!
notes | temporary fix is one of my all time fav one direction songs so i just had to write a fic on it. also i’ve been in such a jeno brain rot recently UGHHHHH HE IS SOOOOOOO!!! also i’ve has a bit more time to write so hopefully i can be more consistent. lots of love to you and i hope you enjoyed this!
655 notes · View notes
dojunie · 1 month
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MISDIAL; LJN [CH5] VOICEMAIL REDUX
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[★]; [MISDIAL MASTERLIST] [PREVIOUS PART] [NEXT PART]
info;
lee jeno x fem!reader
college au
chaptered
very slow burn
genre; not-quite-friends to lovers, older brother mark lee, brothers best friend lee jeno, light angst, yn is a menace to society, story/character driven
warnings for this chapter; kys mention in joking manner
chapter wc: ...13K
a/n: i couldn't decide between posting this monster whole or cutting it into two parts, but two parts kind of makes the pacing weird, so here she is in all her glory! been editing this so long that i've gotten sick of looking at it so im just going to release it into the world now LOL, pls pls pls give me feedback on this chapter, im not 100% satisfied w it but i cant tell if its because it sucks or i've just been rereading it too much 🥸
current tl: @hibernatinghamster / @jenoxygen / @eaglesnotravens / @donutswithjaminthemiddle / @jvjsssnaa / @huangrenhyucks / @luvenshiti / @shiningdery / @jaeminsbebu / @aliceinwhateverland / @bebsky / @gem-gem / @jkjkseo / @jenosbliss / @pewpewpwe00 / @ti–red / @philanarose / @softbbyg0rl / @aaasteroidsky / @carelessshootanonymous / @en-boyz / @jlsavyy / @roseymerrie / @bangchanisemo / @skuezk / @jaehyuns-adorable-dimples / @ourbeautifulaffair / @jeonnyread / @jvjsssnaa / @episkeyjeno / @bockhyun / @jenojammin / @zarastrawberry / @peachie-bear / @itadaramaterasu / @alymii / @cuteejeno / @episkeyjeno / @nohunlee / @ooojisoo / @luv4jeno / @jydivrs / @pinkysinnerbaby / @jenojenoyes / @maeyoung / @axmdocs / @nctzennikki09
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FORGET WHAT YOU SAID ABOUT NEVER BEING ABLE TO GET MAD AT SOMI, BECAUSE THIS TIME, YOU’RE REALLY GOING TO KILL HER.
At this exact moment in time, the Aegon Showcase is set to begin in about fifteen minutes. You’ve got half of a chocolate muffin stuffed into your mouth (courtesy of Somi sneaking a few snacks from the audience lounge, since the dancers technically weren’t supposed to be eating any of the guest refreshments), and you were about halfway through swallowing this chunk of bread when Somi said something that made you nearly choke.
For context: six and a half days have passed since you’ve last spoken to Jeno.
And you haven’t been counting, either. It just so happens that it is surprisingly easy to recall every passing minute when each one feels like it’s been put there specifically to test you.
The afternoon after the Balcony Incident, for example— a few fresh hours after you left Lee Jeno behind on that overlook with the full intention of never looking him in the eyes ever again. After a late breakfast with Somi you’d told her you weren’t feeling too well, that you’d be leaving a little earlier than planned (which, even though you’d said your pain was of the intestinal variety, wasn’t untrue; you didn’t feel well, if the widening pit in your stomach caused by that morning was anything to go by) and departed her penthouse a little after one. 
You’d foolishly hoped that Jeno and his entourage would have plans literally anywhere other than Mark’s place for once, wanting to do nothing but silently mope around the apartment for a few hours once you'd gotten home, but you’d been naive.
You’d been so, so naive.
“Oh!” you’d heard. Renjun. Brown hair, big dark eyes peeking at you around the doorframe as you cradled your now-aching nose bridge. You opened the front door and crashed face first into something solid. “Hey, you. Perfect timing. Do you wanna come grocery shopping with us? Jaemin’s cooking tonight!”
“We’ll even let you ride in the cart,” Chenle chimed in from further into the hallway, grinning wickedly, but you couldn’t focus on either of them because they were both half-hidden behind what you’d smashed into with your haste to get inside. No gray flannel this time, but the same unreadable expression on his face as he, much like he did at the party last night, instinctively grabbed you to keep you from falling on your ass.
(Or his expression was unreadable. Until his eyes trained on something about your face that he didn’t like and his dark eyebrows furrowed with something akin to concern. Then you remembered you’d been crying all morning and surely looked like some sort of dried-out blowfish, eyelids puffy and swollen, so you averted your eyes and jumped out of his grip like he’d stung you.)
“Busy,” you told them quickly, “Sorry. Not today.”
Renjun pouted. Chenle squinted at you, obviously doubtful. And when Jeno finally moved out of the way, you didn’t even thank him for keeping you upright. You just kept your attention on the ground and beelined into the apartment.
Little did you know, that one word would become your mantra. Busy, busy, busy. But it wasn’t like you were completely lying, because you were busy. The Aegon showcase was in a week which meant you had practice every free hour with Somi and the others, and the last thing you needed was to get distracted by circling Jeno like some kind of sad, miserable shark. The good thing about being out of the house so often was that most of the week passed with no more Jeno-related incidents.
Thursday night ended up being the first time you’d seen him with your own eyes since you face-planted into him the previous Saturday.
You’d returned home at 10PM, sweaty and exhausted from a last minute choreo change that had, apparently, also wiped clean the memory of what Thursday nights meant in the Mark Lee household. Movie night. The tiredness you felt was so all-encompassing that upon the discovery of all seven of them sitting around the couch staring at you as you entered, there wasn’t even enough energy to feel awkward. Even then, you must not have looked as ghastly as you felt because Jaemin smiled at you like nothing was amiss, gesturing towards the dining table and the mountain of brown bags atop it.
“You’re late, Rockstar. Take-out’s gone cold.”
Jeno was sitting right next to him. Your muscles were like jelly. All of your bones hurt. Your brain felt like it was operating on nothing but fumes. (And this is what you blamed for your cowardice— the fact that you couldn’t even hold your head up to look in his direction in fear of catching his eye.)
After everyone had gone home and you had free reign of the kitchen once again, Mark hit you with a few more questions about the Aegon Comp; seemingly insignificant inquiries like how the parking situation was (which you didn’t understand the importance of, since he said he’d probably ride his bike there), and if he could sit wherever he wanted (which again, confused you, because the ticke you’d gotten him was one of the best in house). But in your state of fatigue you didn’t think to question it. All you wanted to do was eat something and go to bed, and that’s exactly what you did.
(If you’d had your wits about you maybe you’d have put two and two together. Maybe Somi’s words wouldn’t have caught you with the surprise they did. But as it stands…)
As it stands it’s Friday afternoon, the day of the Aegon Showcase, and half a chocolate muffin is stuffed into your face (technically now stuffed into your airway) as you come to the realization that your friend might secretly be trying to ruin your life.
“You really need to stop eating your food so fast,” Jiara murmurs, clapping you on the back with a little more force than necessary. “No one is going to take it from you. Smaller bites will go a long way.”
You gasp a breath when the chunk finally unsticks. Then, “You saw who in the audience lounge?”
Somi is nonplussed by your horror.
“I saw your brother out there trying to throw a skittle over a lighting fixture and still catch it in his mouth. When I was leaving with our food I think I heard a bunch of people cheer so I’d bet he managed to do it, which, when you think about how high these ceilings are, is actually pretty impressive—”
You fight the urge to grab her by her shoulders and shake her. “I’m not asking about the goddamn skittles!” you hiss. “Somi, you said you saw ‘them’ when you went out there. Them as in plural. Who is them?”
She makes a face like you should already know who. “Who else? Mark and the rest of his crew. And Donghyuck asked to bring a few more, so I guess those are who the other guys out there are. Why are you acting like you didn’t already know this? You were sitting right next to me when Donghyuck was practically begging to come!”
Your life flashes before your eyes.
Jeno’s car. The rain, pounding against the windows. Catching him looking at you in the mirror after Somi told them about the showcase, how it felt like the world outside faded away a little as some little message passed between you— when you felt like he was telling you something without saying a single word.
Then you remember it. In your distant, distant periphery, even though she’d been sitting not even a millimeter to your left when these alleged plans were discussed.
‘Yeah! I mean, I reserved like, a bajillion seats in advance because I knew I’d want to invite everyone who would even consider coming— I’ll definitely get the best row for you guys!’
“However,” she says after a beat, voice finally starting to show the tiniest bit of caution. You realize that your face has begun to contort on its own. “I am starting… to get vibes. That I maybe should have run that by you first? Would now be a bad time to let you know that I told them about the afterparty, too?”
Utter disbelief. The only reason you don’t leap on her once you fully comprehend what she’s said is because Gawon, who’d been watching this entire exchange with quiet brown eyes, puts a hand on your shoulder. She must be able to tell that you’re about to start freaking out, because her therapist-voice is fully activated when she clears her throat.
“Can I ask what's so surprising about this?” she asks carefully. “When we were telling Aegon about how many tickets we each wanted, you said you only needed one. For your brother, right?”
You thought of the ticket, the little envelope you’d held under your pillow for weeks as you fought with the idea of actually giving it to Mark. In the end, a few days ago, when you handed it to him and told him he could come watch you perform if he wanted to, he smiled so big that you felt bad for waiting so long in the first place. But you’d then quickly explained the caveat: that he was not to tell any of the others about it, because there was only one ticket and you didn’t want them hassling you about getting more. And Mark agreed.
Which is why you’d dared to assume that tonight would be safe.
“Yes,” you mutter. “The ticket was for him.”
“Which means you’re not surprised he’s here. So are his friends the problem?”
“The problem?”
You pause. That word makes it seem like their appearance here is actually detrimental to you in some way, like they’re just here to hassle or bully you or something, but that’s not really it at all. Your annoyance at them being here is rooted in the exact opposite. They’re not going to joke around and take it easy, or pat you on the back and tell you that you did well, like how they would if they’d come to watch one of their friends dance. They’re going to swarm you and coo and treat you like a five year old that just stumbled through their first ballet recital.
And as if that isn't bad enough, you realize with a start that you've actually got more to worry about than just being embarrassed by their innate need to baby you.
They, you remember yet again. Plural.
You quickly fix your doomsday-esque expression. "Uh. No, no problem, just... I'm over-exaggerating, forget it, Somi, when you said they, how many are we talking exactly?"
"Seven," she says, like it's the most obvious thing in the world, and you fight to keep your shoulders from sagging. "The three from the car, your brother, and three others I don't really know as well, but who're all just as cute."
Seven. Which means Lee Jeno will be in the audience as well. You should've already known that, fully aware that wherever Mark goes Jeno will follow, but you'd been so startled by the change in attendance that you'd momentarily forgotten that you were pointedly avoiding one of that seven.
Great.
A click echoes over the announcement system. You recognize the voice that follows as the organizer of the showcase, the cheerful woman from the promotional video, happily informing all the performers to head to their greenrooms for final warm-ups before the show.
Well. Even if you wanted to mope for longer about your predicament, your mind switches lanes to the task at hand. Somi and Gawon both titter excitedly at the update, but make sure to quickly give their final reassurances about not worrying too much about the people in the audience and using that energy to give your all on stage. They’re right of course, and you probably would have come to this conclusion on your own once you swallowed your knee-jerk reaction to gripe about everything involving your brother and his friends, but you can’t say that their enthusiasm doesn't do the heavy lifting of bringing you back to earth.
You've got a competition to rock, after all. You could worry about everything else after.
Adrenaline made the hour-long showcase go by in what seemed like fifteen seconds. 
Just like that, a short chapter of your life closed with a bang; seven minutes on the stage, deafening cheers, Jiara and Guyeon pulling everyone into one big sweaty hug as soon as you were all out of the spotlight— then you blink and you’re in Gawon’s car with the windows down blasting down Gangnam on the way to Somi’s house, the girls in the seats around you singing along to the radio at the top of their lungs. The sun is setting, you’re heading to your celebratory afterparty, and what should be a picture-perfect moment is completely ruined by the fact that your mind has been in shambles for the last hour and a half. Why?
Because as you inch closer and closer to Somi’s penthouse, all you can think about is the fact that Lee Jeno is sitting up there biding his time before he can stomp your heart into a million more microscopic pieces.
What you didn’t mention about the moments after the performance was that, after rushing through changing out of your performance outfit to find your friends and get the hell out of there, you stumbled out of the greenroom to find a person. A person who was frowning out in the corridor like some sort of mopey ghost, Jeno in all his annoyingly perfect glory, caught mid-pace.
Upon seeing him your body rebooted, a hundred different emotions flashing through your system from the shock of him appearing in front of you at that moment. The only thing you had time to notice before his words ruined the rest of your afternoon was how… fidgety he was; Running his hand through his hair, rocking from foot to foot, crossing and uncrossing his arms over his chest. You’d always taken note of how still Jeno could be sometimes, not moving an inch for seemingly hours at a time, which was the main reason his current inability to stay still even caught your eye— but it was quickly overtaken by the utter despair you felt not soon after he caught sight of you and opened his mouth.
“Can we talk?” he’d asked. And he’d sounded so unsure of himself that you almost instantly crumbled to the puppy-dog eyes, before reality grabbed you by the neck and you remembered that talking to him was actually the last thing you wanted to be doing right now. 
“Busy,” you’d forced out. “My friends are waiting for me outside.”
But he must’ve seen this coming because he looked nonplussed as you took a step back, his own feet matching yours stride for stride, hands coming out almost as if to calm you like one might a spooked horse.
“It won’t take longer than a few minutes,” he tried, “Five minutes, just five. I just— I really, really want to clarify a few things from Saturday. What I said on the balcony.”
He said it like there was a chance you might’ve forgotten what happened, which almost made you laugh in disbelief. Like it was possible to forget that shitshow, your first love telling you that he was kind of interested in you once upon a time, but did nothing about it because your brother came first. Though, once you fully realized that he meant he wanted to talk about that right now, the moment lost its humor.
Now? Here? You glanced up and down the hallway. Your friends weren’t around, nor were his, but you were hardly alone.
“I wasn’t being entirely—”
“You're going to the party, aren’t you?” You cut Jeno off. Very unlike you when it came to him, and with the way he blinked you had a feeling he knew that too.
“The party?” 
“Somi said she invited you guys.”
“I— I wasn't sure you wanted me to come.”
“Somi invited you, Lee. Is that any way to treat your hostess? We can—” You swallowed. “Come by, and we can find a minute to talk then, but for now I really—”
“Have to go,” he finished with a small wince. “Got it.”
And once he’d metaphorically let you go, taking a step back to slip his hands in his pockets, you’d all but run away; finding Guyeon and Gawon waiting for you like they said they’d be, ready to leave and head to Alice’s house to pretty-up for the party in her gigantic flat. You were trying your best to keep up the energy when you got into the car with them, laughing along to their jokes and dancing along to the music, but you couldn’t stop thinking of what type of curbstomp Jeno was about to release on the suffering remains of your sixteen year-old feelings. 
Even up until the final touches of your make-up, you were commiserating. What the hell could he possibly want to clarify? 
Was he going to tell you to stop being weird around him and the others, because your mood was fucking up their vibe? To stop avoiding him so obviously, that it was as noticeable for everyone as it felt for you, that it was making it awkward for him?
Or could he mean that he was going to tell you he’d… misspoken? That he’d never really liked you the way you liked him, and didn’t want you to misunderstand— by interested in you he meant in the way all guys were interested in all girls, some lowly, surface level thing that he quickly got over when he realized his friendship with your brother could be jeopardized by it?
The last thought had stung a little more than the others, and you’d accidentally frowned so hard about it that it creased your still-setting concealer and had to wipe it all off.
After angrily redoing your base you’d forced it from your mind and got dressed, stealing a simple henley dress from Gawon’s closet upon realizing that you were not in the mood for sexy-cute like Somi had said the dress code was. Instead you opted for ‘hey, you can see my legs and that's good enough,’ and huffed your old leather jacket on top of it; the latter was sure to piss her off but she still owed you from the Mosquito Boy Incident, so she could kick rocks about it for all you cared. 
You had a feeling that no matter what you wore, tonight wasn’t going to be very sexy-cute at all.
The party is just getting into the swing of things when you make it upstairs. It’s like the explosion of a birthday surprise when you and the girls walk through the door. This party is technically a celebration, and you guess a lot of these people must’ve been in the Aegon audience without you knowing it, because you’re getting congratulations and kudos and pats on the back like you’ve just won an olympic medal.
But your pride is short lived, tainted by a bolt of nerves when you think you spot someone that looks like Donghyuck in your periphery. Where Hyuck is, Jeno will be.
It turns out to only be a very tall girl with a pixie cut who winks at you when you whirl your head to her, but the stress of it doesn't ebb away. God. Is the whole night going to be like this? Walking on pins and needles until he finds you?
“You know, new girl,” A voice starts at your side, startling you further, “Your ice breaker back at that my party could’ve been that you’re a kick-ass dancer, instead of that bullshit with the mosquitos.”
Wooyoung. Your friends are suddenly nowhere to be seen when your turn to him, clearly having fucked off into the mass the second alcohol became available, so it’s just the both of you hovering over by this snack table. Though this is only the second or third time you’ve interacted with him past a greeting (you see him sometimes on campus, and he always waves at you like you’re best friends when you pass each other), you’re actually rather soothed by his presence. 
“You wanted to know juicy secrets, not secret hobbies. If you asked me for an ice breaker and I told you I could dance, you would’ve kicked me out of that house.”
He laughs, a snickering sound, before eyeing two jello-shots a girl walks by with in her hands.
“Do a shot with me?” he pouts. “My friends are running late and I’m still painfully sober.”
A shot?  
...Hm. A shot. Inebriation. You’re not one to like straight liquor because the burn in your throat is often more than you think the gag is worth. But if you’re looking to relax sooner rather than later… the pain might not be without its merit. 
Liquid courage. Something you could definitely use right now, as skittish as you’re being. Maybe he’s onto something.
“Just one?” you pique, turning to survey the options. “Thought you were more hardcore than that, VP.”
One jello-shot quickly turns into four with Wooyoung involved, and your mouth is sweet with the taste of artificial dye by the time you actually spot Donghyuck, over by Somi’s balcony doors chatting up some pretty girl you recognize from your physical education class. The volleyball player. Xiaoting or something close, and you almost snort at the sight because she seems way out of his league. But he has a way with words that you guess you could be attractive when he wields it with flirtation in mind, instead of the intent to piss off like he always does with you.
The Smirnoff burning in your stomach must already be settling in because you only mildly bristle when you see him. Like you thought earlier: Hyuck is here, which means Jeno is here. And… and the Smirnoff must’ve already hit your brain, actually, because all of a sudden you’re feeling agitated and confrontational.
You don’t want to spend all night worrying about when he’s going to find you and drop the bomb. So what if he doesn’t like you! So what if he probably wants to forget the moment that happened out on that balcony never occurred at all? You lived your life without yearning over Jeno for years before you moved back here, so it won’t even be that hard to go cold-turkey when he says what he needs to and inevitably squashes the remainder of your heart in his fist. It’s fine. You’ll live.
You just need to rip it off like a bandaid first. And to do that?
“Hey, Woo, I think I need to go and look for somebody. You’re still down for that dance battle later?”
“I don’t play around with my challenges,” he says, grinning much too wide, “I’ll find you later, and then it’s on. Knock em’ dead, new girl.”
As bold as you suddenly are, you actually don’t want to go and interrupt whatever Donghyuck has going on just to ask him where Jeno is. So you’re on your own for a little, scanning the walls for him and the stupid clavicles poking out of his button-up, hair all windswept and eyes so dark. It’s nearly a minute of searching before you see something familiar— but it’s not exactly what you’re looking for.
Close enough, though. 
It seems like Na Jaemin has actually spotted you first, since he’s already heading towards you when you spot his head of pink darting through the crowd. You don’t fuss when he musses your hair and gasps over the competition, applauding you in that sickeningly earnest way he always has, since you’re used to his preening and compliments. Not to say you’re not appreciative. It always makes your face hot when he coos over you like this. But you’ve got a mission in mind, and fretting at him over the pouting and cheek-squeezing will get you nowhere.
“Yes, thank you, I did hear you cheering over everyone else at the end, no I wasn’t hiding my swag from you on purpose, thank you, you can stop pretending to cry now. Where is Jeno?”
The idea of you looking for Lee Jeno on purpose must startle him, because there’s a second after his clear offense at you brushing him off where he registers what you’re asking for and actually looks a little concerned. “Jeno? No-Jam? Why? Did he say something to you?”
“What? No, I just need to talk to him about something. Thought he’d be hanging around you.”
Imperceptibly, Jaemin lightens. 
“Oh. He’s downstairs hefting handles out of Somi’s car, because blondie forgot half the drinks in her trunk. He got volunteered by Chenle as Mr. Muscles and left with her like five minutes ago, so he should be back any minute.”
Damn it. Forlornly, you glance at the door, but there's nothing. No movement. Nada. There goes all your building bravado.
“But before he returns, young lady, should we talk about how that red tinge to your lips better be from the non-alcoholic jello-shots?”
Ah. Whoops. Not only no movement, but now you’ve gotten yourself trapped in the sights of Na Jaemin, who likes to pretend to be staunch on things like laws and teenage innocence and waiting to do things until the government says you’re allowed to. You constantly forget that you’re not yet the drinking age, because no college student handing out drinks at a party ever gives a fuck about the fact that you’re legally not quite legal yet. No other college student besides the one standing in front of you.
“You’ll stunt your growth if you drink before you’re supposed to!”
To this you glance at the cup he’s holding, clearly half full of something, and nearly go to laugh and ask him what his excuse is since he’s barely 21 himself, but then you think of something funnier. Without really thinking about it you snatch the cup from his hand and hork it down. Your eyes are locked with his the entire time so you get to see his surprise grow into shock, then expand into disbelief as you chug, and chug, and chug.
There’s a lot of… some peach flavored crap in here, burning like murder all the way down, to the point that you’re more bewildered than smug when the cup is finally drained because, “Fuck, Na, what is that shit? Are you trying to black out?” 
“Language!” he hisses, genuinely startled for the first time you’ve seen in a long time, which makes you laugh, “And of course not because that wasn’t mine, you little brat! I was holding that for Somi!"
“Oh,” you reply, only mildly shifted by this news. Sorry, Som. Now you know it must be peach Schnapps. She loves Schnapps. “What, so you’re not drinking tonight at all? Are you DD?”
“No! I’m not drinking, and I’m offended that you don’t already know I hate the taste of alcohol. Mark, who may I remind you is in this room and would’ve just shit himself if he’d seen what you just did, is playing designated driver tonight! He’s…”
And as he glances towards the kitchen you follow his gaze. You’re expecting to see your brother, most likely laughing over something his friends are saying, maybe even trying to dance-battle someone if he's having a particularly good time. Instead you see your brother chatting up Jeon Soyeon. 
Jeon… Soyeon. Nabi Bar, Jeon Soyeon. Who you haven’t spoken to or even seen since that awful night in Gangnam.
And you nearly gasp in terror at the sight.
Jaemin doesn't finish his sentence, and you dart your eyes to him when you realize this. He doesn’t look very pleased by what he’s seeing either, though you’re guessing for an entirely different reason than the one that’s just made you go cold.
“What?” you ask a little too quickly. The front door opens, which should be your cue to look for who’s just come in, but you can’t tear your eyes from the sight of Soyeon and Mark. What the fuck? What the fuck? “Do they know each other?” 
“Know each other?” Jaemin scoffs. “Hard to quantify.”
It would be very, very bad for you if they knew each other. Very bad. If not already clear, Mark still had no clue you weren’t where you said you were on the night of Nabi Bar. If she happened to mention your involvement in that shity, shitty idea, you had no doubt that Mark would go all holier-than-thou on you in front of all these people, and that you’d probably have to dive off of the balcony to escape the reaming.
He doesn’t look particularly comfortable, near pressed up against kitchen island because Soyeon is so close to him, hand rubbing at the back of his neck in that way you’re well aware means he’s getting flustered; but you see him laugh at something she says in the next second, and it doesn’t seem like his fake laugh. Mark’s fake laugh is terrible, and even from a distance you can spot it like the flashing lights on an ambulance, a beacon of distress just the same. So he’s laughing for real, at something… Soyeon is saying?
But you hardly recall her being very funny. 
“What does that mean, hard to quantify? Do they have history?”
“Something like that,” he murmurs. “Nothing you need to worry your pretty little head about. Anyway, I think Jeno is—”
“You never look at anyone with any kind of attitude, and just now you rolled your eyes at her.”
“I didn’t roll my eyes. I blinked. For a long time. Something in my eye. Dusty in here.”
“Somi has this place deep cleaned twice a week.”
He stares at you like he’s begging you to drop it. You stare back, unwilling. “You know, Na, the longer you stall, the more time that all this illegal alcohol in my blood has to make me more bold and reckless and unruly. If I don’t get an answer from you I might just go over there and ask her myself. How do they know each other?”
You’re bluffing, of course— there’s no way you’re about to go over there just to see what they’re talking about when you could safely squeeze that information out of Jaemin instead. In reality, you were only pressing because you wanted to know if they were close enough for Soyeon to know you and Mark were related. If not? Then perfect! You’d forget it all and be on your merry way, reverting back to your original plan of finding Jeno, because there’d be no chance Soyeon could spill the beans. 
But if Soyeon does know? You might have to leave this party a little earlier than scheduled. 
“You want the whole, grown-up truth?” Jaemin finally relents.
“Might I remind you for the hundredth time that I’m only a year younger than you?”
“A year and a half,” he acquiesces with a sigh, “And Jeon Soyeon may or may not have slept with your brother to get him to do their midterm project last year.”
It comes out like he’s reading the headline from a newspaper and you made the mistake of swallowing right before he opens his mouth, choking violently on your own spit. He pats you on the back as you hack and cough before continuing.
“None of us are really sure about exactly what really happened because Mark kind of shut down after, wouldn’t tell us anything. But it was pretty clear he liked her before. She’s kinda his type, you know?” 
Edgy, pretty, and fucking evil, yeah, after having to chase a few of them away in high school you’re well aware of his type! This was not what you wanted to know about when you asked if they were close! What the hell?
“He told us they’d gone all the way right before she asked him to do their entire music production project because she was too busy caring for her sick little sister. He, being the bleeding heart he is, pretty much refused to listen to us about how convenient the timing was; he even got mad when Chenle did some sleuthing and found out that Soyeon’s parents facebook, which was filled to the brim of photos of their family, didn’t have any trace of another kid in their midst besides her. Wouldn’t believe us until after the project was turned in, when he tried to meet up with her for weeks and she ghosted him every time.”
He frowns. “At the end of it, he wasn’t… It wasn’t good. He was pretty crushed.”
Now you regret chugging his drink for fun. Even before it you’d been feeling further than chill, pleasant and buzzing from your shots, well prepared for whatever hell was to arise with Jeno. Now you felt loose; too loose, fingertips tingling at your sides because of this news, heart pounding in your chest, body so warm from the alcohol that you felt like Jaemin would hiss if he’d laid a finger on your skin.
To play games with you, that’s one thing. But Soyeon has laid her hands on your brother?
“And, knowing all of that,” you say slowly, clearly, “You’re still letting him sit there and talk to her?”
“I want to kick her away,” Jaemin says flatly. “I’d be lying if I said I trust that girl as far as I can throw her. But it’s not really up to us to get involved.”
“Who is us?”
“His friends? I mean he was pretty clear when it happened that he did not want to talk about it—”
You bark a laugh, but there’s no humor to it at all. “So he can pout and gripe about the sanctity of discussing your problems with people, the embarrassing, the horrifying, but when it comes to him he gets to keep secrets? Forget how hypocritical that is, you guys are listening?”
Jaemin, finally, seems to catch the heat in your words. “Uh. He told… I mean, before you get all up in arms, she may be over there apologizing for all we know. Maybe she’s repenting.”
You both stare at her as she tips her head back in laughter, the salacious flirty kind where you’re more focused on being attractive than actually enjoying the joke, before she puts her hand on his chest in a, ‘Wow, you’re so funny, take me now,’ kind of way, leaning in to say something to him that she clearly doesn’t want anyone else to hear. Every hair on your body stands up when Mark doesn’t push her away.
He’s not seriously buying her shit again, is he? 
“Jaemin, are you willing to bet your life on that?”
“What?”
“Everything you just said about Soyeon. You know that for fact?”
“Well, no, Mark didn’t actually tell us about it so I can never be sure, but… but with what we could gather, it was pretty cut and dry. Chenle actually also found out she had a boyfriend at the same time she did all that stuff with Mark. We just couldn’t bear to tell him that after the fact, so we never… Hey, where—”
You’re sober enough to make it through the throng of people without stumbling, but not sober enough to fully anticipate what you’re really about to do. The goal is just to separate them, somehow, to get that harlot away from your brother, and then you’ll go and deal with Jeno. If people greet you as you pass you don’t hear or see it; all you can grasp is her, touching him, laughing with him, cheating, lying, people-using—
“Mark,” you nearly hiss, “I need to talk to you. Now.”
Mark jumps a foot in the air when you grab him but Soyeon, for some reason, doesn’t look surprised to see you in the slightest. She does, however, raise a sharp blonde eyebrow at your tone.
“What,” Mark splutters, “Right now?”
“Yeah,” Soyeon sighs, continuing to trail her eyes up and down Mark’s face instead of looking at you, “The grown-ups are talking, sweetheart. Can’t you give us a second?”
Mark turns back to the sensual softness of her voice like a moth to a flame, and you want to smack him. “No. Not a second now, not a second later, not a second tomorrow or forever. Now, Mark.”
And that was where you made the mistake that turned this whole night sour. Only when Soyeon realizes it’s her you have a problem with, catching on from the agitation in your tone that you’re not just here to bother Mark for fun, does she slide her unreadable gaze to you. 
“You know I haven’t seen you in a while, Little Lee.”
“For the better,” you mutter. “Seriously—”
“I was so surprised when Yuqi told me you two were related.” 
She’s talking to Mark but looking at you, eyes squinted a little, like someone analyzing a germ under a microscope. So she does know. Great. “I couldn’t believe that this girl was the same little star you used to tell me about when I met her. She’s grown up a lot, you know? Doesn’t take after you at all, Markie.”
“Soyeon,” you say again, “Let him go.”
“Why? So you can keep throwing your tantrum? Every time you open your mouth it gets harder and harder to see the resemblance. When you’re so…”
She doesn’t need to say it, and it’s honestly probably better that she didn’t, because you would’ve leapt at her if she’d gone as far as she’d been intending to dig with that comment. You’re aware you don’t resemble Mark, physically or otherwise— in accomplishment, in talent, in patience, in perfect unmarred reputation. You’re well fucking aware. 
“Soyeon,” Mark finally says, thankfully lurching a little in your direction like her evil witch's spell is finally wearing off, “I don’t think there’s any need for that, what the hell is going on? Do you two know each other?”
Soyeon opens her eyes comically wide. “You don’t know?”
And you feel Mark stop. What the hell are you doing, you want to scream. Why are you even pausing for this bullshit? Come on! But he doesn’t. He stands there and he stares at her, as if searching her face for any sign of truth, and Soyeon takes this as her cue.
“Little star is a big girl now! Her own fake ID, clinging along with her baby bottle to any club the adults want to go to, even catching her own ride home with any wasted guy that smiles in her direction! Don’t you live together? What a handful she must be if she can sneak out under your nose, Markie.”
The blood rushing in your ears makes it hard to tell if it’s only you that’s losing your hearing or if the rest of the people hanging around in the kitchen really have quieted to watch the rising altercation, but you don’t dare move your eyes from the girl to check. The baby bottle comment, outing your fake ID, all of that is rage inducing on its own— but it’s a cold, stomach twisting madness that grabs you when you latch on to the last part of what she’s just said. Catching your own ride home?
Was she referring to Yoobin?
Your fingers unfurl from Mark’s jacket.
“What do you mean, catch my own ride?”
Soyeon laughs. Under normal circumstances, it would be a pretty sound. “Did you think we didn’t see you leave? Blowing up our phones like there was some big emergency— We sent that guy out there to keep you the company you wanted so much, God, we got tired of babysitting you. You stopped calling and neither of you came back inside. What, cause your brother is here you’re going to try and soften it up now, huh? Tell us all you didn’t go home with that drunkard, when you love to tell people you’re no stranger to a bar?”
Yoobin, who grabbed you, touched you, tried to drive you home in his wasted state with clear intentions on what he wanted in return.
Yoobin, who Soyeon and Yuqi and their friends had sent, knowing you were panicked, knowing he made you uncomfortable, knowing you were looking for them.
Soyeon who stopped hearing from you and laughed it off. Soyeon who stopped hearing from you for days and didn’t bat an eye, knowing what she’d left you alone with.
Soyeon, who’s straight, pretty nose cracks under your fist in the same way Yoobin’s did, except this time you don’t run away when she screams and collapses and you realize what you’ve done. Except this time you hit her again— or you try to at least, lunging for her with your eyes ablaze, unsure what you’ll do when you get there but 100% sure it’ll hurt worse than a bloody fucking nose— but don’t quite get there, because someone has lifted you off the ground, two iron-bar arms wrapped like vices around your ribs, the worlds tightest back hug.
In your right mind you might’ve placed the sandalwood and the bergamot, or recognized the rolled up sleeves of his oversized button up, ivory and forest green, but as it stood—
As it stood, as you shouted and thrashed and fought, you only made out one thing.
Mark Lee, your own brother, helping Jeon Soyeon to her feet, two hands firm on her arms to hold her up; his surprised voice the last thing you hear before Lee Jeno hauls you out of that house.
“Wow, Soyeon. Is that true?”
(”Rockstar is going to wallop that girl,” Donghyuck mutters, staring at you like they all are from behind the pillar separating the kitchen from the living room, alerted to the worsening confrontation by a sheepish Jaemin.
“No she won’t," Jaemin tries, clearly feeling guilty, "She knows better than that.”
“She’s gone still. And I’ve never, ever seen her eyes that wide before.”
“That’s control. It’s restraint. She’s not going to hit her.”
Renjun, then, “If you really believe that then why do you look so nervous?”
“Her fist is balled up,” Jisung comments quietly.
“It’s restraint!”
“You weren’t there the day that she knocked the socks off of Park Gyubin, right? When he tried lifting her friend’s skirt up in the cafeteria?”
“She…” Jaemin glances at Donghyuck, “She’s tried to fight men before?”
“Tried to? I thought she was going to kill him. Y/N hit him so hard he had to get his retainer refitted. She’s got a right hook like her brothers. I bruise when she hits me, you know.”
Renjun again, “Why do you sound so proud of that?”
“She… Well, no, look, look! She let go of Mark. They have to be deescalating, she—”
“Does deescalating usually involve getting closer to the object of your anger?” Jisung asks.
“She—”
“Here it comes,” Chenle announces excitedly.
And then Jeno is across the room.)
Jeno realizes before you do that you’re not going back home tonight.
His apartment looks the same. Obviously. It’s only been three weeks since you were last here. Like before, Jeno doesn’t bother with the lights, kicking his shoes off in the entryway the same way, except this time you have two shoes of your own to place next to them instead of the sad and lonely single. Three weeks ago, but it feels like it’s only been a day or two since you did this whole song and dance; following him to the bathroom, sitting on the counter as he stoops under to rummage through his first-aid bin, gritting your teeth when he rubs your knuckles with the antiseptic, smiling weakly when he apologizes for the sting.
You’d cried in his car.
When Jeno carried you out of Somi’s apartment you thought the stinging in your eyes was just discombobulated rage. But when he set you down on your feet in the elevator and you began to come down from the adrenaline high, the burning just intensified as you understood what just happened. You’d only been able to keep the tears at bay until he told you to put your seatbelt on in his passenger seat and it all became too real. 
Though you’re not sober enough right now for it to feel like a problem yet, you know you’ll want to kill yourself tomorrow for allowing yourself to devolve in front of him like that no matter the circumstance. In the moment, you weren’t even entirely sure what you were crying about. Was it the craze of fury wearing off after punching Soyeon, and the jitters it left behind? Or the fact that even when Jeno was tugging you towards the elevator up there, you’d stood and waited for Mark to follow for nearly an entire minute, just for him to never come out? 
You’d like to chalk it up to adrenaline and inebriation, but deep down you knew exactly what it was that had your eyes brimming with those tears. 
He’d chosen Soyeon. The girl who’d lied to him, cheated with him, fucked him over for a grade and left you for dead on the streets of Gangnam, and he’d stayed in that house with her instead of coming out to check on you. And you weren’t really one to catastrophize, but how couldn’t that signal the definitive end of Mark putting up with your shit? The nail in the coffin of his patience with you?
You knew things had been rough lately with you moving in, the thread of butting heads over little things like curfews and the people you hung out with, but you hadn’t thought your relationship had deteriorated to the point that he’d ever… that he’d ever choose someone else. You’re his sister. No matter how mad he is, he’s supposed to choose you. 
But he didn't. And in Lee Jeno’s passenger seat, like a giant baby, you cried about it. 
In proper Y/N fashion the only thing that had chuffed you into sucking it all up and swallowing it into the depths of your soul never to be seen again, was Jeno’s building appearing on the horizon. The threat of him asking you if you’re alright and actually having to confront those feelings was terrifying enough to jar you out of your self pity.
But he hadn’t asked you about your red eyes. He hadn’t said anything, actually. He just tugged you out of the car and into the elevator. Herded you into his apartment. And tipped his head towards his bathroom just like before, except this time he was smiling. In the soft, polite kind of way that let you know he was well aware of what just transpired in his car, but was simply... letting it be.
(And you always knew Jeno was rather observant. But man, the thought behind that smile could’ve made you burst into tears all over again.)
On the counter, holding out your hand for the steps that would never come, you blinked back to the present when Jeno stopped at the healing salve. You’d been waiting for him to bust out the gauze again, already lamenting the next week of your life with the itchy fabric tight around your wrist, but all Jeno does is raise an eyebrow at you when you don’t hop off of the sink after he puts the kit away.
“What are you waiting for?” he asks.
You blink down at your hand, shiny with the balm, and then back up at him. “The rest of it.”
“The wrap? I didn’t think you needed it.”
“But that’s what you did last time I was here.”
“Because the last time you were here you didn’t know how to punch someone properly. It looked like you got her the right way this time. When I was tugging at that wrist in the elevator just now you hardly seemed to notice, when you could barely close your fist a few weeks ago.”
…Oh. Only as he mentions it do you roll your hand around in its socket, flexing your fingers under the bathroom light. Your knuckles look like shit, the newly forming bruises and angry skin, but it doesn’t actually ache like it did that night with Yoobin.
Well you’ll be damned. So straightening your wrist really does work.
“Oh,” you mumble. “I guess I don’t. Wasn’t really thinking about it.”
“Of course you weren’t. Probably thinking about what you wanted to eat, right?”
“What I— What?”
What you wanted to eat? When did you discuss that you were hungry?
“Heard your stomach grumbling in the car, so I’m assuming you haven’t eaten since before the competition. There’s a pizza place down the street that I think you’d like, a jajangmyeon shop too, but their delivery takes ages. It’s up to you.”
You stare at him, clearly not following. Jeno is relaying this to you like tonight was planned, as if it was always in the cards for you to be hanging out at his place tonight like a couple of pals, leaning against the door with his arms crossed, the perfect picture of normalcy. He thinks you’re going to be here long enough to eat? He’s not planning to have you shipped out of here in the next half hour?
But then you realize that there isn’t really another place for you to be shipped to. Mark’s apartment is… not really an option. The idea of going back there tonight almost makes your stomach roll, actually.
But if you don’t go back, that doesn’t leave much in the realm of locations to hide out at. Somi’s brother is coming home tonight, she’d squealed as much this morning, and considering how rare it is that he’s not busy in other countries you abhor the idea of intruding on their reunification. You don’t have many other friends here that you’re close enough with to just show up at their place at 10PM unannounced, not that you’d want to given that your little spat with Soyeon is probably all over everyones instagram stories right now, and is surely the only thing they’ll want to talk about.
You don’t have very many options right now. And Jeno probably knew that from the moment he decided to bring you here. 
“Thinking pretty hard over there,” Jeno hums, “for what is supposed to be a two choice question. Unless you don’t want either?”
“Pizza is… fine.”
“Just fine, or actually good? I can check to see if there’s any—”
“It’s good, Lee.”
He smiles like he’s got you in the bag, and then stands up straight. “I’ll order it then.”
You nod emptily and make moves to follow him out of the bathroom, right on his tail, which is why you nearly crash into him when he whirls back around to stop you. “Oh. Almost forgot.”
“What? Forgot what?"
But you only grow more confused when Jeno speeds off towards his room without replying. There’s a creak and a shuffle, doors opening and closing before Jeno returns with a bundle of fabric bunched up in his arms.
“Can’t imagine it’ll be very comfortable to hang out in that dress all night.” 
He holds out the mass; what appears to be a heather gray hoodie and black sweatpants that, even bunched up like this, still look miles too long for you. He sees you eyeing it and you fear he’s going to do something awful, like politely offer to go and get you something else as if he hasn’t already done a hundred other things for you tonight, so you quickly oblige. Once you relieve him of the pile he laughs, tells you he’s going to put the order in for the pizza, and closes the door on the way out.
You stand there unmoving for much too long, the heap of fabric clutched to your chest.
There’s so much to unpack. Being here again. The fact that he was supposed to break your heart today instead of doing all of... this. How casual he’s being about it all. The brother-slash-bestfriend shaped elephant in the room. The clothes.
But, for the sake of not collapsing under the weight of all of that turmoil, you decide to just focus on the latter; the most immediate and least heart wrenching of the bunch. His clothes. You’re going to wear his clothes. 
Yet another of your old dreams coming to fruition in this apartment. Lucky you.
Jeno is laying across the long part of the couch when you exit the bathroom, footsteps making no noise because you’re padding along on top of the ankle hems. He’s dressed differently too; gone is the jeans and the ivory button up, in its place a black long sleeve and navy blue sweatpants just like yours, except his actually fit. He’s texting furiously on his phone when you round the corner, eyebrows furrowed with something like irritation before he sees your looming figure in the corner of his eye and looks up.
"I put an X-Men movie into the DVD player," he announces, squinting back down to his screen, "Couldn't think of a better time than now to finally get into it, since you'll be here to explain all the things I don't understand..."
But he trails off as he stares at his phone, eyebrows furrowing at something before he frowns and stands up. The look is gone when you shuffle towards the couch and he looks up again, smiling at you like you like nothing is wrong, before he says, "I need to make a call though. Start the movie, yeah? I'll be back before things get interesting."
You stare at him. Probably shouldn't miss the opening scene if you really want to 'get into it', you nearly say. But you've been on this earth for long enough to recognize when someone wants a little privacy.
You want to ask if it's Mark. If he's the one Jeno had been messaging back so agitatedly just now. But the fear of it not being him, Jeno instead just trying to sort something out with like, a truant project partner or something, makes you stuff it down again. It'll just make you look even more pitiful.
"Sure. Most of the intro is fan service anyway."
He opens his mouth like he's about to say something else but then his phone starts to ring and he only smiles tightly at you instead. Then he's gone down the corridor, into his bedroom, and when the ringtone finally stops you can barely hear his voice much less make out what he's saying. Hm.
A different day and you might've snuck off after him to eavesdrop just to see for yourself. But after tonight?
You simply watch him go, and then tumble onto his couch with the exhaustion of someone who's just run up and down the building a dozen times.
You don't even have the strength to reach over for the TV remote; you just lay there and revel in the softness of the cushions, and at how tired you suddenly feel. Rehearsal all morning, giving it your all on stage, the energy-leeching atmosphere of a house party, the alcohol sagging through your veins. Not to mention the emotional confusion. Crying always takes it out of you.
So it's no wonder that you forgo turning the movie on to just take a moment to breathe in the pleasantly dark living room, closing your eyes for what you intended to be a brief second, just to gather the last bits of your patience and sanity for the night ahead... only to fall victim to what happens to most people when they say they're just resting their eyes.
You fall asleep. 
At least for a little while, you do. A brief, dreamless, blissful unconsciousness.
It’s so blissful in fact, that when you’re startled back to life by a knock at the front door a few minutes later— blinking the haze out of your eyes and seeing Jeno’s ceiling instead of your own, understanding with a sinking hopelessness that you’re not waking from a nightmare, that all of tonight has really happened— the dread is almost crushing when it all comes back.
But there isn't even any time to mourn. Because you realize that if someone's just knocked on the door, like the good homeowner he is, Jeno will be out here any second now to open it. He'll come out here and he'll see you and you'll be sucked right back into that nightmare, pretending like everything is fine when you both know that tonight was supposed to go so, so differently. Sitting next to each other and eating next to each other and attempting small talk for the sake of keeping things civil until you can escape this place in ten hours.
The idea almost gives you hives. You can't do it. You can't. There has to be another way. What if you make something up? A sore throat? A sudden headache?
But there's no time to think of anything fancy because in the next second Jeno's bedroom door clicks open down the hall, and panic flies up in your throat.
So you do the only think you can fathom. Before he can come around the corner and see you freaking out, you fling yourself back over and pretend to still be dead asleep.
As foolish as you immediately feel, it must work at least a little bit; you hear him come into the living room, hesitate, and then continue on past the couch on lighter steps as if worried about making too much noise. You even steady your breathing when he’s opening the door for the pizza guy— smooth inhale, smooth exhale, spaced just far enough to replicate what someone sounds like when they’ve been out for a while.
Shit. Will this actually work?
When he closes the door and the room falls to silence your heart picks up a little bit. What is he doing? Is he staring at you, trying to see if you’re faking?
Is he wondering if he should wake you up to eat? Oh, God! What if—
“Are you up?” he whispers. And you almost choke trying to swallow down the instinctual response that rises in your throat.
With surprisingly great effort, you do nothing. Say nothing. You don’t even stir. You just pray to whatever God is out there that Jeno will take the hint, eat his pizza at the kitchen island, leave you out here and go to bed. You get excited when you hear his steps again and think he’s going to pass the couch straight, but of course a second later you feel the couch dip somewhere off behind your back and you nearly curse.
“Guess not,” Jeno mumbles. "I forgot that you knock out so easily."
A few more seconds of what feels like an endless quiet, only his shuffling making sound; through your squeezed-shut eyes you see the light of the TV flicker like he’s just changed the channel, and with it you hear what must be the intro to a gameshow or something— excited chatter, ringing bells, audience cheers. But the volume is turned down so low that it feels like the show is playing in another room. Is he keeping the volume low because of you?
Is he… going to stay out here? 
“So you won’t mind if I think out loud,” he says suddenly, and your eyes nearly fly open in surprise. What? 
But he sounds serious. “Like a test run, almost. For what I wanted to talk about earlier at Aegon. Since I still don’t really know what the hell I’m going to say even after losing sleep over it all week, and I know you’ll try to stop me if you’re awake. I should just try it now, right?”
Try it... now?
Your fake deep-breathing almost hitches in panic when you realize what he’s getting at. Sweet God, please, no. What he wanted to talk about earlier? He wants to get into that now?
“Jaemin scolded me for springing it on you like that after your showcase, by the way. I didn’t realize that I might’ve cornered you until later and I’m sorry about that. I just really, really wanted to talk. Because I didn’t before, and everything got all…” he sighs, heavily. “I’m thankful that you told me to get lost earlier, because I think I can explain it better, like this. I can start from the beginning. I know how thorough you are about things like this.”
You hear the beep of a digital watch somewhere in his house as your face scrunches up in confusion. It's officially midnight, if the watch is making noise to denote the hour, but the realization of the time only comes second to the slow bewilderment slipping through your gloom.
From the beginning? The beginning of what? What the hell does any of that have to do with firmly rejecting you?
“Before we met, because of the way Mark talked about you, I had this idea in my head that you’d be some sort of perfect, flawless angel. That you’d be a little version of him; neat and proper and just a little bit naive, too nice for your own good. A rule follower.”
He laughs at this, a genuine laugh at the memory, and your frown deepens in embarrassment. “Then I actually laid my own eyes on you for the first time, and I realized I couldn’t have been more off.”
You remember it clearly, the first time you’d made a fool out of yourself in front of him and the rest of Mark’s friends. Fourteen years old, running inside the house after walking home from class with your own crew; you’d completely forgotten that you were supposed to bring your skateboard and a change of clothes to school because you all planned to ride around the park that day, the first warm afternoon after a mushy spring, and they said if you didn’t come back out in sixty seconds or less they’d leave you in the dust. So you stormed into the house, past the living room with all of them in it without even a glance or greeting since you hadn’t realized it wasn’t just your brother in there, hurled off your uniform in favor of your outfit staples at the time— an oversized tee that you stole from Mark, hand-me-down cargo shorts that also came from your brother’s closet, and your most cherished possessions: a Yankees baseball cap and your beat-up blue Nikes. 
But you couldn’t find your skateboard and the clock was running out, so you howled down the staircase, “If you moved my skateboard again from where I put it I’m going to kill you in your sleep!” only for Mark to shout back up, “It’s a tripping hazard! It’s in the hallway closet! And aren’t you grounded right now? Where are you even going? Does mom know?”
You hadn’t replied. Just snatched the board from where he said he’d stashed it, barreled back down the stairs, and was fully preparing to toss your brother some half-assed explanation, but then you’d seen him. Seen them. Mark’s new school friends, all lounging on your living room couch, staring at you as if you’d come into the room with a bomb. Lee Jeno (who’s name you’d only later find out) appeared the most stunned by your tornado-like appearance. 
You could only imagine what they were seeing. Some rowdy tomboy, technically on house arrest but running out to wreak havoc on the town regardless, threatening to kill people in their sleep for tidying up. Exaggerated, obviously, but you remember being mortified halfway to Sunday by how cute they all were and that this was their first introduction to you— and in that mortification, sprinting out of the house without telling your brother anything at all.
You’d gotten a good scolding for that later.
“And it’s going to sound kind of stupid,” Jeno continues, and if you didn’t know any better you’d think you heard the smile in his voice, “But because of that, I got this idea in my head that Mark must’ve only been seeing you through those rose-tinted glasses. The type every older brother has for every younger sister, the ones that make everything they do look cute and miraculous and perfect even if they’re clearly evil to everyone else. Not saying I thought you were secretly some sort of demon or anything either, ‘cause I know you’d roll your eyes at me right now if you could. Just that the girl I saw that day was nowhere near the delicate little thing he’d described. And I got... curious. I started wondering what you were actually like.”
Your face is getting hot again. You’ve never, ever heard him speak this much in one sitting, and the idea of him ever paying this much attention to you is mind boggling. But you don’t let yourself lean into whatever feeling of hope is whistling through your head. 
So what if he made a game out of trying to separate your real traits from the things Mark got wrong about you six years ago? Sometimes you liked to make up season-long dramas about strangers you saw on campus. It doesn’t mean anything now. 
You want to scrunch into a ball. You aren’t sure how much more of this monologue you can handle, even despite the consequences of rolling over and breaking the facade just to get him to stop. The heat in your face is spreading to your neck, your stomach, every inch of your skin, it’s making your stomach churn with discomfort. 
“But then the next year you came to our school,” Jeno says with finality, like this is supposed to be some important distinction. “And it stopped being as casual of an interest. The months went by and at some point I stopped looking for you just to see if you were doing something Mark didn’t know about, and started looking for you just because I wanted to know what you were doing. We’d come over for movie night and while Hyuck and Jae argued for hours about what they did and didn’t want to watch, I’d be wondering if I’d get to see you. You probably won’t remember this, but one of those nights I even ordered an extra curry bowl just so I’d have an excuse to knock on your door to tell you about it. And I thought that was a normal thing to do.” 
Jesus Christ. Do you remember? Of course you remember! You’d been reading at your desk with your headphones in, which meant Jeno had to come all the way into your room to get your attention— tapping the side of your earbud with two gentle fingers, laughing all crescent-eyed at you when you yelped in surprise. The sight of him in your room for the first time was like a grenade going off in your tweenaged mind; you’d had to calm down for nearly an entire minute before going downstairs to get your food.
“I thought it was just Mark rubbing off on me. He cared so much about you that I thought my sudden interest was simply overprotection by relation— that he was the reason why I couldn’t stop looking for you. ‘Cause in my mind it couldn't be anything else but brotherly. Mark was pretty clear about what he thought of the people that liked you so I knew it couldn’t be that; I wasn’t stupid enough to let myself be interested in you like that. Right?” 
He laughs again, but it doesn’t sound nearly as sweet this time. “I’m rambling, huh?”
Yes, you are. You are. 
“I’ll cut to the ending then,” he replies like he’s read your mind. “I realized I did in fact ‘like you like that’, at our graduation.”
And your eyes pop open. It’s completely involuntary, and if you’d been facing him you would have been screwed. But you’re still looking deep into the cushions of the black couch; wide eyes staring into a deep, dark, nothing.
“I hid behind that brotherly excuse for three years. My eyes followed you in the hallway because I wanted to make sure you were okay like Mark would’ve wanted me to. I offered to drive you home from school when he was busy because that’s what Mark would’ve asked me to do anyway. Everything I wanted to do I told myself I was doing because I was just a good friend. You know?” A beat passes before he hums to himself. “But I guess you don’t, actually. Because you liked me authentically, like you do with everything. The night of our graduation, the backyard barbecue your parents threw for us. You remember that, right?”
Duh. You’d bawled your eyes out on the front porch halfway through because only then did it fully sink in that they’d all be leaving you behind, these losers you swore you didn’t even like, before wiping your face and moodily rejoining the celebration.
“Jaemin and Donghyuck were having fun like it was their last day on earth. Even Mark didn’t seem too worried about the fact that we’d be leaving our whole lives behind in a few weeks when we drove off to SNU. I asked him if he was going to miss anything and he listed a dozen things, the friends of ours that were going to different colleges, his parents cooking, his backyard, his bedroom, his electric keyboard. And I remember feeling frozen when he didn’t mention you. In hindsight I know that it was probably because he’d still be coming back home every break, and you had a whole year of high school to finish so it wasn’t like you were going anywhere, but at the moment I felt like someone just yanked the blanket off of me. Three years of pretending and it only took one conversation for it to smash through all of that and hit me like a truck. If Mark isn’t worried about it, why the hell has the idea of leaving you here been haunting me for the last week and a half?”
Oh.
“It was then, I think. That I went, ‘Ah. So this hasn’t all been because of Mark, then,’ and everything I’d ever done under the guise of brotherly obligation popped into context all at once. And as if it wasn’t enough being in my own head, I was still in the middle of talking to Mark as I realized that not only did I like you more than I’d ever liked anyone— I was looking directly at the person who would surely strangle me to death if he ever found out that I liked you more than I’d ever liked anyone. So I pretended it never happened. I said ‘yeah, me too,’ the party ended, I went home, the summer went on, and before I knew it I was on campus and had a million other things to worry about. I saw how well you seemed to be doing when Mark would show me your Instagram posts, how much fun you were having, and I let that make me feel better about being such a coward. Over time, without you around, I convinced myself that things were better like this. That it never would have worked out anyway.”
There’s a moment of silence so utterly long that for a moment you genuinely think that this is going to be it. That he’s going to have said all of that and just… sighed, gotten up, and gone to sleep, leaving you alone to be in misery over what you’ve just heard until morning.
But that’s not it. He’s got a few more words for you. The worst of them all. A string of syllables at first, ones that instantly shatter every bit of emotional resistance you’ve built for yourself these last few days— and then a sentence that has your blood turning to ice in your veins when you realize what it means.
“But then you came back to Seoul,” Jeno started simply, “And a lot of things I thought I knew for sure don’t feel quite as concrete anymore.”
You inhaled. 
You exhaled. 
And tried to understand what the fuck that last part was supposed to mean.
But then before you could he continued on, his voice soft, casual, innocent. Too innocent. “Like how I used to be sure that you snored when you were sleeping,” he murmured. “Has it been so long that I've forgotten? Or are you not actually asleep, Rockstar?”
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[♥︎]: and there it is, folks! please leave a like if you enjoyed! it REALLY gives me the motivation to work on this faster!
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liliansun · 4 months
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summary : jeno was the calm before the storm, never letting his his smile ever turn sour. his touch was the warmth she never knew she needed and when his eyes turned into little crescents, sal thanked the moon that night for giving him such features that resembled. all things seemed fine, until she realized she yearned for that same smile too many have seen. scared, she runs from the feelings that knock on her door, unbeknownst that he was waiting for her to answer him.
college kids : nct dream members, my friends are the inspiration for the female profiles (joy, loki, niwa and esa)
started : 11 | 25 | 23 finished : tbd
warnings : mostly posted by chapter, language, mentions of alcohol, college au, fluff, angst, ex friends (enemies) to lovers, anything else will be added accordingly
taglist : @dinonuguaegi @shwizhies @jaylaxies @dearlyminhyung @cutesince2000 @minkyuncutie @haechansbbg @luv4jeno @haechology @velvet-side @sseramine @tywritesstuff @sunflowerbebe07 @i6renj @e-forgettable @myhaechan @nyukyujs @naids4luv @daegalfangirl
every chapter will mostly be written in sal’s pov unless it’s obvious into another otherwise
🎧 : part of the speak now (polaroid version) playlist
please send in an ask or comment to be added!
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00 : [ the Milk Men™ ] : [ women for the w ]
00 : i too was scared
01 : only my bitches
02 : oh great,, another party
03 : i hate you
04 : depresso espresso jeno
05 : free samples
06 : character development
07 : that’s not friendship
08 : settled for this (1.4k)
09 : you think i’m hot? 😏
10 : my kitten and her nono
11 : may she rest in jeno’s arms
12 : that’s the voices
13 : always baby 🫂
14 : #RenjunHaterEra
15 : that curb HIT HER
16 : a lover to whom?? his hand??
17 : i want you + (1k)
18 : i’m sleeping w your bitches
19 : ARMS AND JEANS 👺🔪
20 : watch and learn
21 : risk it all (1.6k)
22 : (ily loser)
23 : how did this go wrong
24 :
25 :
282 notes · View notes
raibebe · 4 months
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Genre: fluff, angst and a sprinkle of smut Words: 5.392 Prompt: trans Jeno x fem. reader
Warnings: afab Jeno, anxiety, mentions of body dysphoria, mentions of surgery, scars, oral (reader receiving), Jeno really is just a horny service top
A/N: Don't ask how this came to be. I had a prophetic vision. As for visuals, I imagined this Jeno to look like NCT Nation Jeno, specifically The BAT Jeno. Yeah. He's hot. Also, this wasn't supposed to have smut in it but... This Jeno is horny as fuck.
Special thanks go out to @wooahaeproductions for being the best beta reader out there, to @starlitmark for emotional support and to @honeyhuii for giving me his stamp of approval to post this!
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“Hey…” “Hey.” You immediately sat up, turning all of your attention towards your boyfriend who was standing and stalling inside the doorframe. “Hi,” Jeno repeated himself, self-consciously squeezing his biceps. “You said that already,” you giggled, scooting back to sit up against his headboard and patting the space next to you. “I know…” He mumbled before closing the door behind him and slowly walking over to sit next to you, crossing his legs. “Are you going to tell me why you freaked out on me earlier?” You carefully asked, reaching for Jeno’s hand to intertwine your fingers. 
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Earlier that night, you had arrived at Jeno’s apartment with a bag slung over your shoulder and butterflies nestled in your stomach. He had opened the door with a big smile on his lips and had pulled you in to press a soft kiss to your lips. “You look beautiful,” he whispered and took your bag to put it down in his living room for now. “You don’t look too bad yourself,” you smiled back and wrapped your arms around his waist from behind, forever entranced by how small it was. “You’re whipped,” he grinned and turned around in your grip so he could kiss you again. “We’re going to miss our reservation if you keep doing this,” you sighed against his lips, fighting the urge to bury your hands in his hair and to mess up the way he had meticulously styled it out of his face to show off the cut in his eyebrow. “Wouldn’t be the worst thing to happen.” Jeno just smiled, kissing you chastely one last time before letting you go so he could retrieve his leather jacket to throw on which made his shoulders look even more bulky than they already were. “They need to close the gyms.” “What?” He laughed. “You’re getting too big, you’ll start knocking into door frames.” “Stop being silly,” Jeno shook his head, intertwining your hands to pull you out of the apartment. 
Dinner had gone smoothly and the food had been delicious. Jeno had even gone as far as ordering a bottle of wine for the two of you to share which had enabled the both of you to be bolder with your public flirting. Maybe you had even gone as far as running your foot up and down his calf beneath the table, earning yourself a raised eyebrow and a knowing smirk. And maybe you had given your Uber driver a hefty tip to make up for what he had to witness in his rearview mirror when you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself. Back in Jeno’s apartment, he barely had gotten his question of whether or not you wanted to watch a movie out before you had your hands in his hair to kiss him stupid. Trusting Jeno to keep you safe from the sharp edges of his furniture, he had maneuvered you into his bedroom where he had gently laid you down on this bed. He took off both of your shoes, carelessly throwing them somewhere in his room, making you giggle before he swallowed the sound with his plush lips. Humming in content, you let your hands roam Jeno’s strong back, getting distracted when he sucked a hickey into your skin just below your jaw. “Everyone’s gonna see,” you whined when he detached himself, his eyes dark. “Good,” he replied with a raspy voice, “Let them see.” 
“Fuck, you’re so hot,” you blurted out, grabbing the bottom of his sweater to pull it over his head, leaving him in a tight tank top showing off both his tiny waist and his defined arms. “So not closing the gyms just yet?” He teased before ridding you of your top as well, leaving you in the red bra you had specifically worn for this occasion. “You’re beautiful,” Jeno gulped, tightly holding onto your top. “Thank you,” you smiled, carefully uncurling his fingers to put the offending piece of clothing down. “Sorry, I’m- A little awkward-” he breathed, still rooted in place. “Nothing to be sorry for.” You tried to reassure him, softly kissing him which he hesitantly returned at first before his body lost the tension again and hecarefully placed a hand on your naked waist. “I’m not going to break,” you spoke in between kisses, taking the initiative by climbing onto Jeno’s lap. His answer got lost in another hungry kiss you roped him into. Letting out small sounds of pleasure, you slowly moved your hips on top of him, hoping to feel him stiffen up beneath you. Grinning against his lips when he let out a gasp, you trailed your hands down his front, taking extra time to appreciate his firm pecs, only traveling down further when he shied away from your touch and whined against your lips. Filing the information that he was sensitive there in your head for later, you slipped your hands beneath the tight fabric of his tank to feel the dips of his abs. When you stroked upwards, you could feel the muscles stiffen beneath your touch, making you want to dig your nails into it. But before you could actually do it, Jeno suddenly broke the kiss, breathing heavily and pressing his eyes shut tightly. “Jeno..?” “I’m sorry,” he mumbled before he pushed you off of his lap and bolted from the room. 
Shocked by his reaction, you just lay there on his comforter.  You heard him open his balcony door and presumed he stepped out. What had just happened? With shaking hands, you grabbed Jeno’s discarded sweater to cover yourself up. Seriously. Why had he run off like that?
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“I’m- I’m sorry,” Jeno sighed, squeezing your fingers, “And I love you. I really do.” “But you don’t want to have sex with me.” “No. Nonono, that’s not it.” “But you want to wait longer..?” You tried again. “No. I- fuck. I want it. I really do. I’m so fucking attracted to you but-” “But?” “I’m sorry I freaked out.” “Did I do something to make you uncomfortable?” “I-” Groaning, Jeno shook his head. “Take your time,” you tried to encourage him, “I won’t be mad.” At that, he let out a humorless chuckle. “There’s… There’s something I haven’t been telling you. And- and I feel really bad for it. Like I roped you into this relationship and haven’t been a hundred percent honest with you.” “Jeno, what?” “I’m sorry.” “Stop apologizing, honey.” You sighed, pressing a kiss to his cheek, “As long as you’re not a wanted criminal in like ten different countries or are terminally ill and dying in the next five months, it’s going to be okay.” “I- can we- can we lay down?” 
“Anything you want.” You smiled gently, pulling back the covers so Jeno could slip beneath them. Immediately, he opened his arms so you could cuddle into his side and pillow your head on his chest so you could hear his furiously beating heart. “You’re so nervous,” you whispered, trying to calm him down by smoothing your hands over his upper body. “This is kind of nerve-wracking.” “It’s going to be okay. I love you.”
“I- Well, I haven’t- I haven’t always looked like this.” “Okay..?” “No, god. Fuck,” Jeno groaned and you had to stifle a giggle. “What I mean is, I haven’t always- well I have but...” “Jeno you’re making no sense,” you didn’t hold back your giggle this time. “Shut up, this isn’t easy,” he whined, playfully shoving you away. Still grinning, you sat up so you could see the smile mirrored on Jeno’s features. 
“Just tell me,” you smiled, gently cupping his face. Still smiling softly, Jeno turned his head to kiss your palm before he took it to guide it to a spot beneath his chin.  “You’ve felt this before, right?” “Your scar? Yeah.” “It’s… It’s from surgery.” “Surgery? On your chin?” “No… On my- on my thyroid technically.” “So it’s an illness,” you concluded, your brows drawing together as you traced the small scar you had never paid much attention to. “No, it was for cosmetic reasons,” Jeno stopped your worries right there. “Cosmetic surgery on your thyroid? I’m not following honey.” “The doc gave me an,” he interrupted himself with a sigh, “He gave me an Adam’s apple.” “An Adam’s apple,” you repeated dumbly because that did not make any sense either. Why would Jeno not have an Adam’s apple? Was he born without one? A genetic defect maybe? But what did it matter? It wasn’t like you were about to start a family and you had to discuss risks. “Yeah, they reconstructed it when I was twenty-one.” “So, you had an accident? And that’s why you freaked out on me? Jeno I- I don’t mind. I love you. Doesn’t matter if you have any more scars or anything. You’re beautiful. Handsome. Whatever you want to call it.” “No. No accident. But I- I do have more scars. Two pretty big ones.” “That’s okay,” you smiled, cupping Jeno’s face to gently kiss his lips. “God, you’re too perfect,” he finally put on a smile again, giggling softly. “Is that it? You freaked out because you thought I’d find you ugly?” Still giggling, Jeno shook his head. “That’s not it at all.” “Then I don’t understand what all this talk about sca-“
“I’m trans,” Jeno blurted out. “What?” “I’m trans,” Jeno repeated himself, way quieter than before, his eyes wide as he tried to read your expression. You weren’t quite sure what emotion your face even showed right now. Hopefully something like confusion. Because while you understood what Jeno’s words meant, it made no sense at all. “But, you’re a guy. A man.” “Yeah, I am,” he smiled, “Just not with the body to match.” “So you’re-“ “I was assigned female at birth,” he confirmed what you couldn’t find the words for, “I was able to start my journey to transition as soon as I was eighteen.” When you couldn’t find your words after a couple of tense seconds, Jeno sat up so you could see eye to eye again. 
“Listen, I’m sorry that I just dropped this on you right now. I should have been honest from the start. And I completely understand if you don’t want to see me ever again. But I just- everything was going so smoothly and I never found the right moment to bring this up and I- god after the stupid jokes Jaemin made about me using steroids at the gym, I thought you somehow maybe had a hunch and would- I don’t know, ask about it? I just want you to know that I had no malicious intentions. I love you. I’m in love with you. And this between us just felt so right and happened so quickly that I- I just did not want to lose it. If I were to lose it because of this… And I really hope that I didn’t majorly fuck up.”
“This… This is a lot to take in,” you spoke carefully and grabbed Jeno’s hands to intertwine your fingers, “Because I really didn’t expect this. I mean I got to know you as a man. You are a man. So, there was no reason for me to ever question that. But…” “But?” Jeno urged you to go on, anxiously chewing on his lower lip. “But I don’t think it even changes anything. I love you. And I don’t think I care that technically you weren’t born male.” “I mean I was. I just got the wrong body assigned,” he smiled lopsidedly. “You’re right, sorry.” “It’s okay, I don’t mind,” Jeno reassured you, bringing your intertwined hands up to his lips, “And you don’t have to make your decision now on the spot. I can just drive you home or take the couch for tonight.” “I don’t want that, I know that. I want to be with you.” As if to prove your point, you climbed back onto Jeno’s lap, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. “I- I can understand if you don’t. If you want a real man who you can have childr-“ “You are a real man,” you interrupted your boyfriend sternly, “And I couldn’t care less if you have a couple of scars or have to take medication every single morning.” “I’m on shots,” Jeno smiled brightly, his eyes curling into little half moons, “Hence the jokes about how I get steroids injected.” “Well that doesn’t matter either,” you concluded, “You’re my boyfriend. Doesn’t matter what gender you were assigned at birth.” 
“You have no idea how much this means to me.” Jeno was positively glowing, his smile lighting up the room more than his crappy bedside table lamp. “I love you,” you whispered again before finally kissing Jeno again. The kiss wasn’t leading anywhere further despite your position on his lap but you still loved feeling so close to him. 
“I love you too,” he replied when you broke the kiss, “And again, I’m sorry for freaking out. We just got carried away and I wasn’t ready for you to just- Well, to just see me like that. Because it wouldn’t be what you expect to see.” “Do… Do you want to talk about that now?” You asked carefully when you caught his drift. “I want you to be comfortable and not feel like you have to tell me everything right now. The evening was already eventful enough.” “You have made me feel nothing but comfortable,” Jeno reassured you with a gentle smile and a sweet kiss. “I just want you to know everything so you know what you’re signing up for.” 
“Okay,” you agreed easily, falling back into Jeno to share another deep kiss. “Stop distracting me,” he spoke against your lips, playfully taking your lower one between his teeth. “Not my fault you’re so distracting,” you whispered back, adding to your point by squeezing the swell of his biceps. Smiling fondly, Jeno pressed a sweet kiss to your cheek, his eyes so honest and full of love, that you felt your heart ache for him. Before you could proclaim your love for him again in words that felt way too small for the feelings swirling in your chest, he spoke up again. 
“So I… I obviously had top surgery,” he began slowly, tracing a line beneath his pectoral muscle, “So there’s a scar running across right here. It’s not as visible as it was three or four years ago but I- I can still clearly make it out.” “And that makes you uncomfortable?” You tried to understand where he was coming from, carefully placing your hand right where he had traced his scar to not startle him. “It’s not- not really uncomfortable. It’s part of who I am but on off days, it just reminds me that- It reminds me of everything I went through. You know- body dysphoria and all of that. I’m better now. I went to therapy for a long time to work through everything and I’m okay now. Seeing the scars just sometimes brings back the not so pleasant memories.” “I’m sorry you had to go through that,” you quietly said and softly kissed your boyfriend again. You knew your words probably were nothing but a bandaid on an open wound but you felt like you needed to say something regardless. “I’m okay,” Jeno repeated himself, a lopsided smile on his lips, “I’m okay now. I can accept the way that I am.” 
Before he spoke up again, you saw his Adam’s apple bob with a dry swallow. “Well, you probably know there’s two big surgeries for transmen. And I- I only had one of them. That’s why I-“ He cut himself off with a groan before pressing his eyes shut tightly. “That’s why I never got hard when we were making out.” “Hey.” You gently reached out to cup Jeno’s face, working your thumbs over the worried creases in his forehead until you had coaxed him to open his eyes again. “I don’t mind,” you smiled. And you truly meant it. How could you be repulsed by the man you loved more than anything else? “I don’t mind.” “But I can’t-“ “There’s other ways.” You tried to sound confident and sure about your words but at the same time, you could feel the heat rushing to your face. “And- and we can find out together what works best.” “I would like that. I really would,” was Jeno’s only response, the bright smile you adored so much back on his handsome features. “I don’t know what I did in my past life to deserve being with someone like you.” “You must have been a decent man,” you grinned, throwing your arms around his neck to hug him close, feeling his heartbeat against yours. 
“I love you,” he spoke into your neck where he had buried his face. “Thank you for telling me about this,” you replied, gently scratching the short hairs at the back of his neck, “For being so open and vulnerable.” “Even if I should have said something weeks ago?” “Even if this talk probably should have happened before we were about to have sex.” You couldn’t help but giggle, holding onto him a little tighter when he let out a loud groan before falling back onto the mattress. The following silence was nothing but comfortable and you almost dozed off when Jeno started to play with your hair. “We’ll take it one step at a time,” he mumbled, craning his head to press a kiss to your hair. “One step at a time,” you agreed.
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“Are you… Do you feel like- god, I cannot believe how awkward I am over this,” Jeno cut himself off again when he felt you stifling your giggle into his chest. “What I wanted to ask was if you wanted like… More uuuh- information I guess? On me? As in like? How I work around my body? Or we can just put on a movie.” “Let’s get comfortable first,” you decided, tapping Jeno’s belt buckle. “Do you want me to lend you some clothes?” “You know me too well,” you smiled, slipping out of the bed to get rid of your pants since you were already comfortable in Jeno’s sweater. Smiling, Jeno got up as well to look for shorts for you to wear. “Do you want me to give you privacy to change?” “No. I- I want you to see,” he stuttered as he handed you one of his favorite pair of gym shorts, the hem already frayed from wear. “So you’re going to strip for me?” You tried to loosen him up with a joke. “Any wishes for music?” Jeno doubled down on the joke, even going as far as crowding you back against the bed until your knees hit the mattress. 
“Can I touch?” you asked with your best sultry look as you sat down on the mattress, looking up at Jeno from below your lashes. Gulping, Jeno seemed to think about it for a moment or two, frozen in place. “One- One step at a time,” he ended up saying and taking a step back from you. “That’s okay.” You immediately reassured him again, “That’s what we agreed on. And you took a big one already tonight.” “Yeah,” he agreed, “But I want you to know it all. I trust you.” With that, he took a deep breath before pulling his tank top over his head, leaving his torso bare. 
“Wow,” was the only thing you got out, amazed by how defined his abdominal muscles were. You had a hunch already because of how the rest of his body looked and you had felt them already but damn. He was jacked. “You’ll start drooling. Stop staring,” Jeno blurted out. You guessed that it was supposed to sound teasing but it only came out shy and when you managed to look your boyfriend in the eyes again, there was an adorable blush dusting his cheeks. “You look like that and expect me to not be staring?” “Stop,” he whined, crossing his arms over his chest to cover himself up. “Get dressed then,” you giggled, now finally focusing on the faint scars beneath his pectoral muscles that you wouldn’t even have batted an eye at if he hadn’t told you they were there. Sticking out your tongue at you, Jeno exchanged his tight tank top from earlier for a loose one you had seen him wear in the mornings already. 
“Now this might be really awkward,” he warned you as he unbuckled his belt. “Why would y-” Before you could finish your question, he reached into his waistband and pulled something out. At a loss for words, your eyes jumped from Jeno’s face, who looked like he was barely holding in his laugh, to whatever he was holding in his hand and had just pulled from his pants: It was an oval shape and a dark blue color, fitting just in Jeno’s hand. “What..?” “It’s a packer,” Jeno giggled, placing it on top of his dresser. “A packer…” “So it looks like I have a bulge,” he explained as he stepped out of his jeans to throw them into his hamper. And now that you were staring at his crotch like a psycho, it would make sense to have a little more volume filling out the dark boxer briefs. Kind of? You really weren’t sure. It wasn’t like you were staring at random dude’s crotches on a regular basis. “I- I got a bunch of ones over the years for like different occasions,” he explained slowly, stalling over opening the top drawer of his dresser. “But that’s maybe for another time,” he eventually decided and stuffed the one he had used today somewhere between what looked like socks. “I wasn’t aware that was a thing,” you confessed. “It’s not something a lot of people think about,” he agreed, “Usually, people just expect us to get bottom surgery and then be done with it.” 
With that, he climbed back into the bed, bringing his laptop with him. “And you… You don’t want it..? I mean it’s none of my business really.” “It’s a risky and complex surgery and it’s very expensive too. For now, I’m content with my body, there are ways to work around it. So, I don’t think I’ll get it anytime soon. The testosterone stopped my periods pretty fast but it’s suggested to get you know all the organs and crap out of there because I sure as hell have no use for them.” That comment made you giggle and you were glad Jeno could smile about it as well. 
“I can’t imagine how weird it must have been as a teenager,” you mumbled as you got comfortable against Jeno. “I was miserable,” he mused, “Disney?” “I’m here to listen if you ever want to talk about it.” “Thank you, baby,” he smiled, gently holding your chin as he kissed you softly, “It means the world to me that you’re being so supportive.” “It’s the bare minimum,” you argued but let Jeno kiss your pout away either way. 
“Moana?” “What?” You asked dazedly against Jeno’s spit-slicked lips. “Do you want to watch Moana?” He giggled, peppering kisses around your lips before he trailed down your jaw. “You do not expect me to make a decision on a movie when you’re- fuck, Jeno,” you cut yourself off with a curse when he sucked another bruise right below your jaw. “So that’s a no?” He spoke against your spit-slicked skin, making goosebumps appear and a shiver run down your spine. “Jeno~” What was supposed to come out annoyed, only turned into a mixture of a whine and a moan. He knew your weak spots way too well, one of his hands having sneaked below your (well his) shirt to squeeze your waist. “Hmm?” “If you keep kissing me like this, we will not watch any movie.” “Tell me to stop then.” “Can’t,” you pressed out before you roughly grabbed Jeno by the hair at the back of his head to smash your mouths together again, eagerly swallowing his deep groan. 
“Let me make it up to you,” Jeno whispered in between heated kisses that had your body thrumming with pleasure. “What?” You could only respond dumbly, nothing but static inside your brain. “I wanna make what happened earlier up to you,” he clarified, “Let me make you feel good.” “You already made up for it,” you smiled, gently kissing the tip of his nose. “But I really want to,” he whispered, giving your hips a meaningful squeeze, “If you’re comfortable with it.” “I am comfortable with you, Jeno.” “Then please?” He asked, giving you his sweetest puppy eyes with a pout that would make the tallest icebergs melt. “Should I..?” “No, I’ll be fine,” he reassured you immediately, “I just want to do this for you.” “This being what?” “Eating you out like it’s my last meal,” Jeno rasped right into your ear, making a shiver run down your spine and a spark of pleasure shoot through you, arousal settling low in your stomach. 
“Yes,” you all but pleaded, a whimper leaving your lips when you looked into Jeno’s dark eyes, a teasing grin on his lips. “Relax and just tell me to stop if you need me to,” he reminded you and when you nodded, his grin only seemed to widen as he pulled his shorts from your hips. “Almost forgot about these,” he murmured as if you weren’t supposed to hear it at all when he was met with your lacy red panties. Before you had even found the words to tell him not to stare like that, Jeno let himself drop down to his elbows and buried his face between your legs. 
“Jeno~” You could only moan when he pressed wet kisses to the fabric which quickly dampened beneath his skilled lips. Your breath got caught in your throat when he finally brought his fingers into the mix as well, teasing your entrance through the fabric while he flattened his tongue against your clothed clit. “Please,” you whimpered quietly, “Want it.” At the sweet sound of your voice, Jeno groaned deep in his chest and pillowed his head on your thigh so he could catch his breath. “Jeno,” you begged again and laced your fingers through his dark hair. 
“Fuck, you drive me insane,” he cursed before he unceremoniously hooked your panties to the side and licked a long stripe over your folds, moaning when he finally got a real taste of you. Tightening the grip you had on his hair, you held Jeno’s face in place, not willing to take any chances of him stopping. He definitely knew what he was doing, altering between broad licks and stiffening his tongue to fuck it inside you. And on top of that, his eyes never left yours. No matter how often you had to break eye contact because you were too overwhelmed by pleasure, he was always already looking at you when you dared to look down again. 
When he had your thighs already trembling with pleasure and threatening to close around his head, he had the audacity to wink at you before he stretched his jaw wide to fuck his tongue even deeper and if that wasn’t enough to have you see stars, he pressed his face forward so his nose perfectly stimulated your clit as well. “Jenooo~” Overwhelmed by all the pleasure, you moaned his name loud enough that his neighbors must have heard it as well and as if on instinct, your legs snapped closed around his head. At that, he only hummed in what seemed to be disapproval but you didn’t really care when the vibrations felt so good and when he forced your thighs open again, you couldn’t help the next loud moan tumbling past your lips. 
“You’re so loud,” Jeno mused, pressing a sweet kiss to the inside of your thigh. “Please don’t stop,” you could only heave, throbbing when you saw how the lower half of his face glistened with your juices, “Don’t stop.” “Okay, beautiful,” he smiled way too innocently for the position he was in before he attached his lips to your clit, softly sucking on the sensitive bundle of nerves. “Shit, fuck,” you cursed and threw your head back while you arched into his touch to which Jeno reacted in kind, putting his hands on your lower back to keep you arched high. Not only was that incredibly hot and it made it easier for him to pleasure you, you now had no chance to squirm away from him. You just had to take what he was giving you and oh, he was giving it to you good. 
“So close, ‘m so close,” you warned Jeno when you were all but riding his face at this point, grinding against his flattened tongue and pressing your clit against his perfect nose. The words only seemed to spur him on, throwing an arm over your stomach to keep you from squirming even more so he could take back control and work his tongue over your clit in quick strokes. “Please, Jeno, please.” You were so close, the knot in your abdomen pulling tighter and tighter but he had you tethering the edge, not enough to push you over. As if he knew exactly what you needed, he fucked two of his fingers into your dripping core and the feeling of being full was all that you needed to finally cum, making a mess all over Jeno’s face that he eagerly cleaned up. 
You weakly mumbled Jeno’s name while coming down from such an intense high that left your thighs quivering and your head fuzzy. With loving touches, you carded your fingers through Jeno’s messed-up hair while he gently dragged his tongue through the mess you had made to clean you up. “So cute,” he giggled when your thighs just wouldn’t stop shaking and pressed a sweet kiss to the inside of one. “Don’t make fun of me,” you whined, hiding your face behind your hands and playfully kicking his shoulder. 
“I’m not,” he promised, the tone of his voice way too fond for what he had just done. With gentle kisses and caresses, he made his way up your body again until he gently nudged your hands to the side so he could press his lips to yours, making you taste yourself on his tongue. Sighing into the kiss, you wrapped your arms around his neck to hold him close, hoping that the weight of his body would ground you. 
“Good?” He breathed into the small space between you, leaning his forehead against yours. “So good,” you smiled, tilting your head to playfully kiss his nose, “Thank you.” “You’re welcome..?” He almost asked which made you giggle again, pressing your smile against his in another kiss. “And you’re sure you don’t want me to..?” “Maybe another time,” Jeno smiled lopsidedly, “I’m- I- this was enough for me. I really like making my partner feel good.” “You definitely did that,” you reassured him with a fond smile on your face. 
The moment of silence between the two of you seemed to stretch on and on but neither of you felt the need to break it, simply basking in each other’s presence and studying the other’s face. With gentle touches, you tried to sort out the mess that Jeno’s hair had become while he traced the line of your lips with his pointer finger that you playfully snapped at to hear his giggle again. “I love you,” he eventually confessed, the three simple words making a warm and fuzzy feeling spread inside your chest. “Love you too,” you replied, sealing your lips in another kiss. “Thank you for accepting me,” Jeno whispered when he broke the kiss, rolling off of you to lay on his side. “Of course. I meant it when I said I love you,” you frowned. “But this is different. I’m different. It’s not- not everyone is this accepting.” “You’re still you. Nothing changed.” “Everything changed for me.” The sad smile on Jeno’s face made something shatter inside you and you had to swallow down tears as you buried your face in his chest, hugging him tightly to let him know that you wouldn’t leave him.
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kiachiako · 1 year
Text
hold fast | l.jn
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pairing | jeno x female!reader
synopsis | After finding hand scribbled messages in a novel of the quaint bookshop you work at, you start a paper dependent back-and-forth with an anonymous penman; a small part of you, however, hopes that your brother’s cold best friend may have a hand in their mysterious appearances.
content | brother!jaemin, brother!jaehyun, au, fluff, language warning
wc | 11.1k
song | all the stars — kendrick lamar, sza
a/n | my first longer fic, hope u enjoy it! leave any and all feedback, i’d love to hear ur thoughts :))
Maybe it was the caffeine rushing through your veins at the ripe hour of 3 am, a seemingly perfect time to sneak out of your parents' house. Or maybe it was the desperation to get away from your textbooks haunting you out of sleep, leading to an all-nighter in which you almost caved into the temptation to burn your hellish flashcards. When the devil couldn't reach you, he sent not only a brother to torment your every waking moment but a Satan reincarnate called physics summer homework. Who assigns homework during the summer anyway?
Wanting to get away from the stress of life for a while, you had planned to walk out your front door unbothered. But of course, nothing goes without the notice of your twin brother.
Neon lights highlighting the sharp angles on his face, Jaemin's eyes trailed your walking form as you attempted to sneak out through the living room an hour earlier. With his gaming set-up littered with empty wrappers and neglected work, you returned his stare with disgust as he reclined on the couch without a care in the world.
Fortunately, Jaemin cared more about the game he was winning than you traipsing out in the dark alone; judging by the screaming that was blaring through his headphones, he'll be up playing with his closest friends into the late morning.
They're all like him: infuriatingly annoying and always too loud. So loud that you purposely make plans to go out whenever you see his friends pull up to the Na household. You're sure that at least some of them are kinder than your brother, but you've never stuck around long enough to find out.
Although it might not appear so to others, you and Jaemin's relationship is anything but bad; he cares for you in the most tsundere of ways, and his constant teasing is simply the nature of his own personality. You know that he will call you in a good two hours to make sure you're alive (although he'll probably argue that the call is not out of love, but because his hoodie has mysteriously disappeared which you or may not have "borrowed" a week earlier).
Your relationship is complimentary like that, unspoken care for each other masked under the daily mocking and ignoring each other at school. Now that your eldest brother, Jaehyun, is away at university, it's just the two of you. You cover for each other when you want to skip out on a few classes or when Jaemin has a girl over that your parents didn't know about, and that works perfectly fine for you. Tonight is no exception.
After unlocking your bike from a nearby pole and walking it down the empty suburban street, it only took a quick ride to reach your final destination.
And that brings you to your current position; staring at the bookstore window with a set of keys dangling precariously from your fingers. Technically this wouldn't be breaking in, right?
At an hour in which the late party-goers have finally stumbled home and the early risers have not yet awoken, there is no one around to see you enter the quaint storefront at said ungodly hour. And so, against your better judgement, you quickly unlock the door and slip into the darkness.
You had chosen the bookstore job over the summer for a reason; it provided not only a quiet place to get away from when the chaos got too much at home, but you were surrounded by endless entertainment. People-watching from behind the counter with a pile of to-be-read books and a glass of iced tea had been your expected routine for the past few months, and it has been more than fulfilled as summer break reaches its end.
The store owner is a kind old woman who insisted on raising your pay within the first week, but she's rarely in town to care for the shop. That leaves you to yourself with a variety of intriguing customers, a plethora of mystery novels, and air conditioning (thank god) to escape to during sticky august heat waves.
And that is also why your soul absolutely leaves your body in shock when you whirl around to face Mrs. Lee — your boss who, by the way, said she wouldn't be back for another month. A surprised noise leaves the back of your throat, awkwardly bowing to her as she stares at you in amusement.
"Mrs. Lee, funny to run into you at this hour. You're back earlier than I expected," you say, wracking your brain for a plausible excuse to why you'd be at the shop six hours before opening time.
"Yes, honey," she replies, turning to the side to put her bag down, "I wanted to come back a little earlier so you wouldn't have to take care of the shop on your own when school starts."
You nod and move a little farther into the shop. "Sorry for coming so early. I just needed somewhere to go for a little bit." The old woman turns to you, her eyes crinkling as she smiles kindly at you.
"Never apologize, Y/N. I understand that we all have our own struggles, hmm?" and with another mysterious smile, she turns her back to you and disappears into the back room.
Still left a bit confused, you shrug, make your way around the counter, and settle into the plush cashier's chair.
With the dim moonlight filtering through azure-tinted display windows and a stinging smell of citrus keeping you company, you find your eyes growing heavier and heavier as the night ticks away.
You think you've made it to heaven when you wake up to a halo of sunlight blinding your eyes into oblivion.
And, of course, the blaring ringing of your phone buzzing incessantly on the counter in front of you.
Still in a bit of a haze, you reach for your phone, only to answer to a—
"Jesus fucking christ, Y/N, do you know how long I've been calling you? And," you move the device away from your ear as Jaemin's screeching voice carries over into the previously peaceful bookshop, "where the hell is my black hoodie? I don't care if you're passed out in a ditch somewhere, just get me my hoodie back before school starts tomorrow."
"Shit," you mutter under your breath as you look down at your clothes sheepishly, realizing that the soft fabric you were sleeping on is actually your brother's favorite piece of clothing. Pulling out the remnants of a used blunt from the front pocket, you roll your eyes. Yup, definitely Jaemin's.
Reluctantly dragging yourself from your cozy sleeping spot, you mumble, "okay okay, Jaem. Chill out for a sec, hmm? I'm alive." You make your way over to the door. "But I won't be soon if you keep shouting in my ear like that. You're about to give me a permanent migraine."
Jaemin scoffs before you hear three beeps marking the end of your lovely conversation. Of course he would hang up on you.
After a quick bike ride back to your house to freshen up — in which you thankfully did not run into your brother — you stop by a coffee shop for an americano and make your way back to the bookshop to open up.
Mrs. Lee waves at you with her oversized sunhat and myriad of trinkets in tow, before leaving the shop all to you for the day.
A few uni students and an old man come in throughout the quiet august afternoon, looking for the average last minute history textbooks and poetry collections. You smile at every customer and drink your much-needed caffeine before resuming to the task of cataloging new shipments, a very null job for such a warm day.
And you're still in that state of mind when he walks in. Like a fever dream, if you have to call it something. His pale hair reflects in golden sunlight as it falls comfortably against the nape of his neck, a small pack of cigarettes poking out of his back pocket. Delicate silver chains fall right down the center of his chest, and you can't help but wonder where you have seen a person this stunning. He strikes such a familiar chord in the back of your head, but you just can't pinpoint it.
He carries an untouchable aura, glancing at you before passing to reach the books that reside in the depth of the shop.
So, with your legs comfortably curled up beneath you, you squint at him for a second before deciding that figuring out how you might know him is a waste of brain power.
After he walks away, you try to re-immerse yourself in your novel multiple times, but you can't help but glance up at whatever he's doing. Head tilted, your eyes follow him in curiosity as he confidently makes his way into the romance section. It’s a complete contradiction too, the dark clothing and motorcycle helmet tucked under his arm being the last thing one would expect on an avid romance reader. You like that, no shame.
He disappears out of view, the scent of lime and cedar cologne lingering after him. You grow more confused as he stays in that aisle for ten, twenty, thirty minutes (not that you're counting or anything).
He finally walks out with a non-readable look on his face and his hands empty, devoid of any books. His eyes shine as if he knows something you don't while walking casually past your spot behind the counter.
"Uh, have a good afternoon...?" you call after him as he shoots you a small smile before pushing his way into the summer heat, leaving nothing behind but the pungent smell of citrus and an air of mysteriousness.
"I- everybody is so weird today," you mumble to yourself, shaking your head and leaning back into your chair.
You make a mental note to check out that romance corner later. What could possibly be in the romance section that could keep him in there for over thirty minutes?
You've never had a thing for romantic novels or romance in general, especially after seeing your parent's marriage hit its rough patches and your heartbreaker of a brother in action. Jaemin has an allure about him that makes girls fall right into his trap, and you've watched too many of his flings run out of his room sobbing.
Your mom and dad describe him as "charming." You don't see it.
"See what, Jaemin?" You stare at him incredulously. "You're imagining things, there is no damn stain on your clothes." Shoving past your brother with a mouthful of cereal, you call out "we're literally late, hurry up!"
Jaemin shoots you a dirty look, chucking his student ID at you. "I swear to god Y/N— if I see a drop of coffee on my hoodie today, you better sleep with one eye open."
You ignore him and make your way out the front door, taking a deep breath of crisp morning air before you feel a hand knock into the back of your head. Hard. Your brother sticks his tongue out at you cheekily before making his way over to a sleek, black motorcycle. Something he bought to fit the "badboy" agenda he and his friends are so intent on fulfilling.
Swinging your leg over the vehicle behind him, a loud rev fills your neighborhood before you're shooting through the suburban streets that lead to your school.
Two blocks before you reach the entrance, Jaemin stops to let you off. It's always been your tradition; ignore each other's presence at school and no drama will ensue. You know just how much some of his secret admirers would probably go insane if he was seen riding to school with a girl behind him.
"I hope you have a shitty first day," your brother says, still convinced that you spilled your drink onto his sweatshirt this morning. Giving him an irritated look, you wish him the same and turn to walk towards the entrance separately.
Slipping into your assigned homeroom five minutes later, you're met with a girl throwing her arms around you in a bone-crushing hug, her pretty face framed by freshly bleached, blonde hair.
"Sol, you're going to annihilate my lungs if you don't let go of me," you say, pretending to struggle to breathe. The girl behind you giggles, wrapping her arms tighter around you.
"I haven't seen you in a whole month and this is how you treat your best friend? Damn Y/N, I'm hurt."
You and Sol nudge each other playfully, setting your bags down and catching up on each other's summers. The daughter of wealthy business owners, she spends her summer break at her grandparents' estate in Jeju, preventing you from meeting each other.
"God, it's been so long," Sol looks at you with a smile, hopping up to seat herself on the empty teacher's desk. The bell hasn't rung yet, resulting in a half empty classroom and the noise of chatter flooding in from the hall and the open windows. She taps at your school uniform's short skirt teasingly. "We look hot, ready for the first day of hell or what?"
You grin, seated on a student's desk with your feet propped up on a chair.
"I wouldn't be here if I wasn't, now would I?"
Only half way through the day and you're ready to go home and drop dead on your mattress. You forgot how tiring school is both physically and mentally, especially with the thought of all the homework assignments you've collected today already.
You collapse against the lockers next to Sol's in the back of the classroom, her eyes scanning your tired face for a few seconds before turning to her handheld mirror.
"Is it just me or do you want to die," you say, turning your head to watch Sol touch up her lip tint.
"Not just you girl," she replies, grabbing the sleeve of your uniform and dragging you down the hall. "Now let's go eat. Food heals the soul." Your eyes light up at the mention of lunch, pace quickening through the crowded halls.
Entering the school cafeteria is like watching a drama unfold before your eyes. You either belong to a group or you don't, the sound of laughing and chatting echoing off of your academy's high ceilings.
Right away, your eyes are drawn to the right after hearing an especially familiar laugh.
With a groan, you nudge Sol's arm.
"Fuck my life, truly." She looks in the direction your eyes are so conveniently averted from and laughs like she's never heard a funnier joke in her life. "I can't believe I didn't think to ask him what lunch he has this semester..." you trail off, Sol still laughing next to you — she's one of the only people who know about the interesting brother-sister relationship you two have, or even the mere fact that the infamous Na Jaemin has a twin sister in the first place. She knows you would die in annoyance to even be mentioned in the same sentence as him, especially with the stupid persona he holds up to his classmates.
And then there's Jaemin, sitting with his group of friends in all his glory. You look around, spotting a few girls at surrounding tables nudging each other and giggling about how attractive they are (something that you could definitely go without hearing about).
You tap Sol, nodding to your own group of friends across the cafeteria.
The moment you turn away just happens to be the moment your brother catches sight of you, his smile wiping right off his face. He glances down at the silver bento box you're holding, mouthing something incomprehensible to you with an annoyed expression on his face.
You pause and look down at the box, letting out a groan when you realize that you must have taken Jaemin's lunch instead of yours this morning. You would honestly rather buy lunch from school, but your parents insist on taking leftovers from dinner instead.
Sol glances at all the girls staring at your brother's table, looks at you, and breaks out in a man-eating grin. "Good luck with that," she whispers to you, referring to the first time you're going to be interacting with your idiot of a sibling at school. "I'll be over," she points, "there!" And with that, she leaves you alone to fend for yourself while your friends get free entertainment.
You sigh before begrudgingly making your way over to Jaemin. You can feel the eyes on you, but frankly, you can't bring yourself to care anymore. Jaemin has caused you this much trouble throughout your life already by making you walk to class when he could simply drop you off at the entrance. A little interaction won't hurt.
"—and I know right, she's not even all that. I swear, the nerve of girls these days..." a boy with striking features and blonde streaks through his hair trails off mid sentence, his eyes glancing up and down your figure as you stroll up to your brother.
You stare at Jaemin for a second before tossing him his lunch, the box hitting the table much harder than you intend it to.
"Hey hey, woah there," Jaemin raises his eyebrow at you, "no need to be so aggressive with me."
You frown, gesturing to your lunch in his hands. "Can I have mine now—"
You're interrupted by a hand on your arm. "Who's this Jaemin, a new thing of yours or what?"
You and Jaemin almost gag at the same time. He turns to his friend, incredulous.
"Didn't I tell you that I have a sister? I could've sworn that I've mentioned it before," Jaemin says pointedly at the boy next to him.
"Shush Jaem, I would've remembered if the Na boys had a sister with those genes," he's fast to reply, shooting a grin at you.
"Shut up, Hyuck."
"Her name—"
"Shut up."
"My Kakao—"
"You can shut up now. Before I hit you for real," your brother threatens, raising a fist playfully for added effect.
Mark butts in with a helpful, "Jaem boxes now too."
Your sight unfocuses as Jaemin and his friends continue to add on and bicker among themselves, your eyes wandering to the end of their table.
That's when you catch sight of a familiar mess of white hair, his soft gaze trained on his laughing friends as he fiddles with his silver rings. His uniform jacket is thrown casually over his shoulders, your school's emblemed tie dangling loosely around his collar.
Your eyes widen. The boy from the book shop yesterday. He's my brother's friend?
It's as if you get caught in a trance while staring at him, like you wouldn't be able to physically look away even if you wanted to. He looks simply unreal from where you're standing, the afternoon sun painting shades of gold onto his face as a halo of light seeps through his hair.
You flinch in surprise when his gaze flicks over to you, looking up through his lashes with a hard, unwavering gaze.
Before you can look away, your brother pushes you at the hip and stares up at you with an expression you know all too well: can you leave me the fuck alone now.
You sneak one last glance at the white-haired boy — who’s staring back now — before snatching your lunch from Jaemin’s hands and rushing to your own table. With a groan, you drop your head onto the table as your friends rub your back soothingly.
“Shh, Y/N, I know that must’ve drained you. It’s okay-” Sol laughs, patting your head.
She stops mid sentence when you lift your head up with the most dazed expression she’s ever seen on your face, eyes glazed over and hand trying to hide a smile.
“What happened for you to have a look like that on your face,” Chaeyoung questions, squishing your face between your fingers as you pout at the table.
“Guys,” you start, before letting your head drop down to the table once more. “I think I’m in love.”
“What am I even doing,” you mumble to yourself, unlocking the front door with your fingerprint before slipping inside.
You never come home right after school, usually going to the convenience store with your friends or straight to the bookstore to work the evening shift. But, of course, stupid hope has left you with the possibility that he might be at your house today.
Why? Well, your brother may have specifically told you not to come home because he was having friends over for the night. ‘Friends’ means him, and you don’t even know his name yet. You pray that whoever’s-up-there will grant you this in the least.
It had been a pain to get out of the grasp of your prying friends right after school ended, their bombarding questions of, “oh my god, who,” “you better show him to me tomorrow,” and “is he cute,” being too much for you to handle.
It was a blessing that Mrs. Lee had let you off for the day, half of your friends had cram school to occupy them, and the other half had classroom duties as punishment for getting caught drinking at the karaoke bar by the academy director (“I’m just sorry we got caught,” Miyeon had huffed, after trying to convince you that the cheap soju was worth it).
Now you can stay in your room and eavesdrop freely on your brother’s friends as much as you please, and you plan on doing just that.
Touching up your makeup as you lay on your bed, you wait patiently for the familiar rev of a motorcycle entering your house’s gate.
A ding interrupts your train of thought, your phone lighting up beside you.
[My Sol-bear 🫶🫶, 4:39PM] is he here yet
[You, 4:39PM] BRUH WHAT
[You, 4:39PM] HOW DIDYUO EVEN KNOW U PSYCHO
[My Sol-bear 🫶🫶, 4:39PM] ik everything bbg
[My Sol-bear 🫶🫶, 4:40PM] why else would the i-hate-being-at-home Na girly be at home huh
[You, 4:40PM] fuck u bro
[My Sol-bear 🫶🫶, 4:40PM] fuck me yourself
[You, 4:40PM] um bet
[My Sol-bear 🫶🫶, 4:42PM] no bc u better introduce urself to him or i will come over myself and MAKE YOU
[You, 4:42PM] that’s hot
[My Sol-bear 🫶🫶, 4:42PM] Y/N.
[My Sol-bear 🫶🫶, 4:43PM] i’m expecting a marriage date at approximately 8 pm so u better not let me down
Just when you’re about to type out a reply, you hear the familiar whirring of the gate opening before a small click of the front door. Sudden muffled chatter fills the house as you hear your brother enter with his posse in tow, their loud voices and continuous laughter ruining the silence that you had had the pleasure of keeping for exactly ten minutes. You’re pretty sure someone just got shoved against the wall too.
It’s only when they settle in the living room after a while that you decide to make your move, descending slowly down the staircase so as to not make any noise.
You decide to make your grand entrance when Jaemin conveniently gets up from the couch as he talks, heading to the open kitchen to get junk from the fridge. You’re surprised at the number of friends he has over, at least six pairs of eyes following his movements from the living room as he puts drink after drink onto the countertop.
You adjust your sweatpants to sit lower on your waist and fiddle with your top (and yes, you did wear it for your brother’s friend, it took everything to ignore the feminist in you to say you didn’t dress for that man) before moving nonchalantly into everyone’s view, an empty glass in hand that you most definitely did not prepare before-hand.
Jaemin looks up in confusion when his friends go silent, his eyes finally following their gazes to you. You?
“You,” your brother stares at you pointedly, “why are you here.”
You stare at him back.
“Um, why would I not be here? This is my house too, Jaemin. Remember? My name is Y/N. I have the same address as you. I’m your s-i-s-t-e-r,” you roll your eyes, moving to stand beside him at the fridge. He only ignores you in response, shoving you lightly and mumbling a ”move over, will you.”
“God Jaem, you didn’t tell me your sister was here. I would’ve brought flowers and shit,” Donghyuck flirts, moving away from the couch and towards the two of you. You give him a small smile before scanning the couch behind him, face dropping in disappointment when you don’t see your mystery boy.
Where is he?
Jaemin’s other friends, however, are looking at you in curiosity.
“So this is the hot sister,” one boy speaks up first as if coming to a revelation, “I’ve seen you around at school for sure.”
“What the fuck,” Jaemin hisses. “Never say that in front of me again.”
“Wait,” Renjun, who you know from your classes, his eyes perking up as he observes you. “You guys kinda do look alike, Jaem. I can’t believe I never noticed that the only other Na in our class looks like a carbon copy of you.”
You and your brother squint at each other.
“...I don’t see it,” Jaemin speaks up first, shrugging. “Anyway, we’re gonna game for a bit and then order chicken takeout. You want your usual, right?”
You nod and thank your brother before waving goodbye to the boys in your living room, their enthusiastic greetings and waves making your eyes crinkle.
However, just as you turn to go back up the stairs, you run face to face into the same hoodie-clad figure that walked into your shift just a few days ago. His eyes flick down to you as move back a bit, surprised by his sudden proximity. The two of you are so close that you can even smell his cologne, the citrus-y, cedar scent clouding your head.
“Oh Jeno, there you are,” Jaemin barely looks up as he walks over. “Was starting to think you got lost or something. Wouldn’t be surprised,” he mumbles the last part, smirking when Jeno shoots him a glare.
Jeno. I finally have a name to the face.
“Jenoo!” Donghyuck shouts, rushing over to where you stand in front of the said boy.
“You almost missed meeting Jaemin’s sister,” he says enthusiastically, linking his arm with yours before making you wave at Jeno. “The one he was so intent on hiding from us!”
Jeno looks away from his friend to meet your eyes once again, staring at you for what seems like minutes. It’s only after you glance away awkwardly that he mumbles a small “hmm” before making his way to where his friends are engaged in a (very) pointless argument about League. Your gaze follows him as he relaxes into the seat beside Renjun, arm thrown over the back of the couch like he’s in some sort of editorial magazine.
You almost die on the spot.
You also almost forget that Donghyuck is standing oh-so-conveniently next to you, and just happened to see that whole interaction play out. It’s only when you feel a nudge from the boy next to you that you snap out of your daze, just in time to catch Donghyuck’s knowing grin.
“So it’s loverboy, huh?” he teases as you elbow him back. He laughs before leaning down to whisper in your ear.
“Good luck with that one, Na.”
You groan into your hands as Sol outright laughs at your misfortune, her head shaking as if she’s just heard the funniest joke of the century.
“He just said ‘hmm’? Jesus Y/N, what did you do to this man,” she asks as you pout at her, the empty bookstore’s AC hum the only sound filling the silence.
You just shrug in response, upset with the fact that Jeno doesn’t have any interest in you in the first place. You could’ve liked any other one of Jaemin’s friends — who, by the way, were all very good-looking and much kinder than you expected for any relation to your brother — but no. You just had to choose the one whose first word to you wasn’t even a word.
You’re still in a mood about the whole thing when Sol gets up to leave for her evening job at a cat café, the dark rain clouds outside and humid air seeping into the shop doing nothing to help you.
After sulking a bit more, you decide to organize the shelves in the back of the store. It’s comfortable; the smell of wood and paper never fails to ease your constantly running thoughts, the soft glow from stained-glass lamps illuminating Mrs. Lee’s timely, leather love-seats situated between each mahogany shelf.
You go down each aisle, pushing spines back into their places and reordering by author name, slowly making your way into the dreaded romance section.
You start at the bottom, blowing dust away from the old books that struggle to be sold to everyday customers. As you make your way up, you notice a splotch of white at the very top shelf in the corner of the store. The darkness that surrounds the space makes the white gleam even brighter, a closer look revealing that it’s the pages of a book that are turned outward, not its spine.
“Wha-” you mumble as you squint at the book whose spine is turned inward. “What kind of idiot…” You trail off, slowly coming to the silent realization that there could only be one person who had wandered off into the shelves of romance this week (and reach that high up).
Jeno.
With a new determination, you grab the shop’s rolling ladder and slowly make your way up to the fabled book. You reach your arm out and snatch it from its place, blowing a thin layer of dust off its cover.
Your eyes scan over its cover: Pride and Prejudice. Pride and Prejudice?
You flip through the book in confusion, pondering why this novel specifically would be so important to him. You almost skip over the tiny splotch of writing on the inner cover, it’s messy handwriting easy to miss as you bring the book up to your face to read it.
[personal copy] 
“Is not general incivility the very essence of love.” 
Return to same place when done.
You turn the book around in your hands, confused at the words and wondering if it really is Jeno.
Making your way back to your place at the front of the store, you settle down and decide to read it anyway besides your hatred for the genre. With a warm mug of tea and small box of Pepero to keep you company, you find yourself drowning in the world of Jane Austin as the seconds turn to hours.
One exception can’t hurt.
You see Jeno in the cafeteria a week after you find the first book, the copy tucked neatly under your arm as you walk with Chaeyoung and Miyeon to your table. You can hear snippets of their conversation as you pass them, your friends giving you a look when they catch sight of Jeno (it was an unfortunate case of, “Y/N, if you don’t tell me which of these boys has you rushing home at the bell everyday I will pour bleach in your koi’s tank and won’t feel sorry about it,” that led to your entire friend group’s incessant teasing whenever Jeno simply breathed in your proximity).
You snap your head around when you hear Donghyuck’s voice above the others, his laugh bringing everyone’s attention to their table.
“Oh my god, Jeno’s reading a fucking romance book right now,” Donghyuck’s mouth drops open, genuinely concerned about the fact that his friend isn’t even the slightest embarrassed to be flipping through the pages of the thin novel. Jeno doesn’t even look up when your brother jokes that he didn’t know his best friend was “this soft.”
You clutch Pride and Prejudice a bit tighter in your arms as you move away from them, mind whirling as the possibility of the book in your hands being Jeno’s increases by the second. You’ve even been seeing him a lot more often at your house and on the weekends, even though he rarely leaves your brother’s gaming setup in the basement; but hey, the fact that he’s even there makes your heart want to drop out of your chest.
It’s a cool September afternoon when the next book comes to you, and its random appearance questions everything that you think you’ve figured out so far.
Mrs. Lee has left the bookstore to you once again, refusing to hire any other help for some odd reason; Jeno hasn’t come into the shop since the first time you saw him, so there’s no way he could’ve gotten it into the shop without you noticing — you swear that you have a sixth sense reserved solely for him.
So then how come there’s a book flipped inward smack dab in the middle of the romance section this time, its frayed pages standing out as you stand frozen in front of it?
You can’t help the nerves that bubble up in you as you pull it from off the shelf.
Its velvet cover is a mix of nectar and ambrosia, the sweet smell of sugar wafting across the shop as you bring the thick book to your spot at the front counter. Flipping the cover open, you’re surprised to see a familiar title: Norwegian Wood.
Humming in anticipation, you search through the text to find a certain hand-written message that could possibly serve as an explanation. It’s situated on the last page of the novel this time, the black ink bleeding delicately onto its yellowed page.
[personal copy] 
“‘Letters are just pieces of paper,’ I said. ‘Burn them, and what stays in your heart will stay; keep them, and what vanishes will vanish.’” 
Burn this book when you’re done with it, or return it here if you don’t; your decision would still speak ten-thousandfold to me.
You gape at the messy hangul’s intent, reading it over and over again before pulling out your own pen and making the split-second decision to write a little message back.
I disagree. Don’t you think you’re taking Murakami’s words a bit too literally here? Sure, sentimental value might always stay with the art’s viewer, but being able to keep personally meaningful pieces will forever be more valuable as a takeaway.
You cap your pen with a huff before slotting the novel back where you found it, its spine turned outwards for your own petty reasoning.
He doesn’t know what he’s talking about, you think to yourself.
…If it’s even Jeno… you add on, disappointed at your new development.
Now that he hasn’t even returned to the shop, could you have gotten the person’s identity wrong this whole time?
“Sol! That hurts ass,” you complain, tapping the girl’s thigh in succession as she attempts to curl your hair.
“Shush, babe. Beauty is pain,” she retorts, meeting your eyes through the mirror as she kneels behind you. Your room looks like a teen movie set, makeup sprawled across the floor around your criss-crossed figure as you hold up jewelry to your neck to choose from. “Chae, Miyeon, and Yuna are coming in ten mins to pick us up so if you mess up my masterpiece, I will actually end you.”
You get up from the floor slowly, changing into your going out fit before joining Sol at the floor length mirror.
“Oooh Y/N, we actually look so hot right now,” she exclaims, posing with you for fun before frowning. “Jungwoo better ask me out today at Johnny’s party.”
“He will, he will,” you reassure her, gathering up your purse. “He’s 100% in love with you, and even Jaemin can see it. He literally asked me if you two were a thing.”
Sol looks at you with wide eyes, the sheer excitement in them making you happy too. At least one of you is having luck in their love life.
“Wait, imma run to the bathroom real quick and then we can leave, okay? Can you tell them to wait out front?” Sol nods at you before returning to her phone as you slip into the dark hallway of your quiet house.
After washing your hands quickly, you open the door to a body running right into you, causing you to lose your balance and stumble into the wall.
“Shit,” a voice sounds out, two hands steadying you as you regain reality before your vision finally focuses on the boy in front of you, “you okay? You didn’t hit anything, right?”
You can only stare at Jeno, his concerned tone catching you off guard.
This is the first time he’s actually speaking to me.
“I- yeah. Yeah, I’m good. Are,” you stumble over your words, becoming acutely aware of the fact that his hands are still on your arm and waist, “are you hurt anywhere?”
He shakes his head before mumbling another apology, his deep voice being the only thing you can focus on.
“Jaem’s downstairs and we’re doing some project,” he rambles a bit, taking his hand off your arm to brush his hair back. You can’t help but feel disappointed at the lack of touch, but the shyness he’s displaying completely catches you off guard.
“You don’t have to explain yourself to me, Jeno. You practically live in our basement,” you reply, lips pulling up into a small smile. For the very first time, he smiles back at you.
“I’m sorry if I scared you, Y/N.”
And with a dozen more awkward apologies, you rush out to Yuna’s car five minutes late with a warm blush on your cheeks that hadn’t been there before.
By the time the third book appears, you’ve already anticipated it enough to clear your schedule for the afternoon. Determined to finish it as fast as possible, you bring the copy of 엄마를 부탁해 (Please Look After Mom) home with you to read on the comfort of your own house.
There’s a long letter written out in the front cover of the novel, it’s now familiar handwriting making you focus on their words and opinions that seem to know exactly how you think. You smile down at the phrases they use, the little references from the previous book appearing every so often.
Hours pass by as you emerge yourself in the world of So-Nyo, your pen scratching out every thought you have and every question that flickers through your mind. Your reply to their last message takes up both covers this time, your lips pursed as you focus intently on your writing.
With your headphones fit snugly around your head, you startle when Jaemin appears four inches from your face.
“Jesus Christ Jaem- what was the reason,” you push his face away, your line of sight just missing the fact that his best friend has just taken the seat next to you on the living room couch.
You startle a second time when a hand taps your shoulder, your eyes widening when you see Jeno offering you a glass of water from your side.
“You haven’t got up in a while,” he says softly, wrapping your fingers around the glass.
You’re surprised he’s even noticed, the sweet gesture catching Jaemin by surprise as well. Your brother looks between the two of you suspiciously, narrowing his eyes when he zeros in on Jeno staring at the book in your hands.
“That’s not weird at all…” he says, still put off by the foreign look on his best friend's face. “Anyway, you going to our party today? Sol told me that you guys were coming.”
You almost choke on your water, looking up at your brother in confusion.
“Me? She said that we- what?” You stumble over your words, surprised — you really shouldn’t be at this point — that she was going to yet another party for the second night in a row.
Your brother holds back laughter at your reaction, knowing Sol and her tendencies all too well by now.
“Uh huh, it’s at Jeno’s house this time,” he adds on as you turn your head to give a questioning look to said boy. He just shrugs, face nonchalant while Jaemin is visibly elated. “His parents literally left like six cases of beer in their cellar. What do you expect us to do, not make use of it?”
The look you give your brother has him sticking his tongue out at you, leaning over to tap your forehead.
Before you can reciprocate, Jeno hands you a thin pen, its silver plating glittering in the light. You look up at him in confusion.
“Yours is running out of ink,” he points out to you, referring to the pen laying in your open book. The last parts of your writing have faded, your mouth open in an “oh” as you realize that he’s right.
You think about your next action carefully.
“Jeno,” you say, leaning a little closer. He tenses at your voice saying his name, something he hopes you don’t process. “Thank you for noticing.”
That one line seems so much deeper than it does at surface level, the two of you sharing a moment of mutual understanding. You feel like you haven’t even had a proper conversation with this man, yet there’s definitely some sort of tension here that wasn’t there before.
Jeno gives you a small grin before getting up to follow Jaemin to the basement, his leather bomber on his shoulders and backpack in tow as he spends another one of his evenings in the Na household.
“No. Way,” you exclaim, dropping your bag and books on the ground of your foyer, Jaemin next to you doing the same as you both gape at the figure in front of you.
You rush forward as he opens his arms, your “Jaehyun!” ringing through the house as he pulls you into his chest. His familiar warmth relaxes you immediately, your arms still latched around his as Jaemin comes over to greet your older brother.
“Hyung! Why didn’t you tell us you were coming back from uni already,” Jaemin frowns, walking into the kitchen where your parents sit and watch their childrens’ reunion with adoration.
“Don’t be upset, Jaem,” Jaehyun ruffles his younger brother’s hair, “Yonsei had an early break so I wanted to surprise you guys before I go back to Seoul.”
Your twin lights up at the word Yonsei, his dream school triggering an immediate response as he begs Jaehyun for more details about his life at university. The conversation continues until dinner, the two of you elated to have him back home for even a little bit.
Jaehyun’s dimples make an appearance as you and Jaemin argue over who gets to sit with who for dinner, the latter huffing when you refuse to let go of Jaehyun’s arm.
Your older brother was like a lifeline when you were younger, always acting as a peacemaker whenever you fought with Jaemin or over-stressed yourself from school. Both of you look up to him so much, his kind nature and ability to get along with anybody acting as a guide for how to survive high school. The age gap of four years was never an issue for the three of you, and you got along as any normal siblings would with your own ups and downs.
You lean your head on Jaehyun’s shoulder after dinner, his presence alone comforting you greatly as Jaemin leaves to attend to the front door. You don’t even look up when you hear two new voices in the house, their footsteps getting louder as they reach where you and your older brother are.
Jaemin observes closely as Jeno and Donghyuck enter his living room, the former’s expression twitching in the slightest that he almost misses it completely.
It’s only when Jaehyun mumbles a confused, “why is he glaring at me,” that you accidentally meet the dark eyes of Jeno, who’s staring intently at your brother with a look you’ve never seen on him before.
Jaemin shakes his head with a smile, nudging Jeno in the process.
“Chill bro, that’s my older brother-”
“That’s Jaehyun? The Jaehyun?” Donghyuck interrupts with a sense of awe, situating himself next to your amused older brother before bombarding him with questions (you pretend you don’t hear the “how the hell did you hack the administrative office’s computer system? And find a way to get edibles through room check? You’re a fucking legend at school, you know,” from Donghyuck).
Jeno’s face visibly relaxes when he hears the name Jaehyun, tossing his bag next to his friends’ before making his way to the rest of you.
Was he… jealous?
You shake the thought from your head. No way.
Yet you can feel Jeno’s eyes on you as Donghyuck talks your brother’s ear off, while you refuse to meet his stare. You think you might combust, and your possible delusions certainly do nothing to help you.
A ding from your phone comes at the perfect time, the “We’ll break down your door if you don’t open it in five, four, three…” text from Chaeyoung giving you the excuse to jump up and drag your friends inside the house.
After your friends introduce themselves to Jaehyun — and raise their eyebrows at you after seeing the infamous Jeno on your living room couch — they take over your bedroom upstairs and trifle through your closet. You just let them, throwing your exhausted self onto your bed.
“We’re heading over to Jeno’s first, ‘kay?” Jaemin yells up the stairs. You shout an incoherent sound back, closing your eyes immediately after.
After an hour of fighting sleep while your friends get ready, they force you into a tight-fitting top and skirt and fuss over how many guys will definitely obsess over you tonight. You’re frankly after only one person, and his recent actions confuse you to the point that your brain hurts every time you think about him.
...
When you arrive at Jeno’s estate, the party’s already in full swing. You can see people stumble around in the front lawn, the heavy bass of music filling the entire block as Yuna links her arm with yours to pull you along to the entrance.
It’s crowded and hot as you enter, Sol being stolen along the way by her new boyfriend. The sound is deafening, with Johnny controlling the music in the corner and people all over each other, their figures spread throughout the Lee property. You don’t even see any of Jaemin’s friends, their tall statures no match for the sheer number of people there are.
“Holy shit,” you hear Miyeon say. “Did they invite the entirety of Korea or what?”
You finally get an answer after at least ten minutes of mingling around, when you finally see a truly familiar face. Donghyuck’s signature smirk appears in front of you and Yuna as you head towards the kitchen for drinks.
“Crazy right?” He laughs, the brown liquid in his solo cup sloshing around as he drags the two of you to the counter. “We weren’t expecting this many, but Jaehyun said that we should throw a big one if we’re gonna throw one at all.” You roll your eyes at your older brother’s classic antics; you can even imagine the exact tone of his voice as he relayed that to Donghyuck earlier in the day.
“Just big?” Yuna’s eyes go comically wide, turning around to survey the number of bodies in the kitchen alone. “Nah, this is like fucking Project X, Hyuck.”
His proud grin alone tells you everything you need to know.
You lose Donghyuck a few minutes later, his dark red hair hard to catch as he weaves between guests to seemingly greet them all. Yuna pours you her own concoction, your eyes following her movements with worry as she pours three times more parts soju to cider, the alcohol content making you dizzy already.
“I’m a lightweightt, Yuna,” you remind her.
“Y/N, just let loose tonight, hm? You never drink more than a few shots and this party is way too hype for you to not be drunk for it,” she sing-songs, pushing the drink towards you. “Bottoms up.”
With a weary look, you down the sweet mixture in one go and cringe as it leaves a bitter aftertaste.
Without even a moment to pause, you let your friend pull you towards another group of people from your school in the next room. The alcohol reaches your head fast, your face warming as you’re handed another shot from a classmate. Time goes by too fast for you to keep track, your motions blurry and eyes hazy as you get pulled along to new locations every few minutes.
The clock reads 1am, and two rounds of truth or dare, one game of paranoia, and another tense match of beer pong later is when you’re finally able to get away from all the activities. You take a seat by yourself on the staircase, leaning your head against the wood railing to stop it from pounding so much. Focusing on your breathing, you pray that the hangover that will greet you tomorrow morning will be a tame one.
“Need some company?” a sudden voice offers in front of you. You will your eyes to focus in the dim lights on the person’s face, but all you can hear is his heavy breathing as he leans closer to you. The smell of marijuana on his breath makes you lean back, uncomfortable at his advances.
“No, thank you,” you turn your head away, trying to show your disinterest as he places his hand on the stair next to you. The smoke from his breath rises in rings in front of him, fogging up your vision even more.
“Come on pretty, we’ll have fun,” he promises, moving too close as your personal bubble decreases by the second. He grabs your arm and tightens his grip around your wrist. “I know you want it-”
“Lay off, man,” a voice sounds out from behind you, a dark figure coming down the stairs to move between you and the stranger protectively. “She already said no.”
Jeno.
You don’t know what expression he’s given the man, but it sure is enough to make him back away. He gives Jeno a glare before reluctantly letting go of your arm.
Offering a hand out to you, you let Jeno support your weight as the two of you make your way up to the quiet third floor, the party still at its high downstairs. He helps you into a room at the end of the hall, and that’s when you realize it’s his room.
He seats the two of you on his bed before returning with a glass of water.
“Drink,” he orders softly, wanting you to sober up a bit before attempting to talk at all.
You sit in silence with him for a while, your quiet breaths and low hum of a record player spinning in the background being the only noise to fill the space as he watches you.
“I’m drunk,” you say to no one in particular after a long stretch of silence, your little frown making Jeno look at you in amusement.
“I’m glad you’re aware,” he deadpans. “Have more of this.”
You just look at the water in his hands, a weird sense of déja vu overcoming you as you recall a memory of this same exchange happening just a few weeks ago.
“Okay, dad,” you grumble, the sudden surge of liquid confidence showing that you already know you’ll regret in the morning. “You’re not my real dad.”
“At least you’re coherent enough to recognize that,” Jeno snorts, lifting an eyebrow as you finish the water anyway.
“I didn’t know you could use big words like that,” you mutter, getting distracted by drawing little designs on his bed comforter. “You only ever say like ten words max to me.”
Jeno’s eyes soften at your words, not even being able to reply before you change the subject.
“Why aren’t you down there with everyone else,” you ask, watching his freshly washed hair drop little rivulets of water onto his hoodie. They dampen the fabric, the little cross around his neck just barely visible underneath. “It’s your house.”
“Not really my thing,” he mumbles, relaxing on the bed next to you and leaning his head against the wall. You nod in understanding, mirroring his position before falling into a stagnant silence once again. Your eyes close on their own, a sudden fatigue overtaking your body. “You- you can rest here for a while, if you want. I’m just finishing a paper for class anyway,” he offers suddenly, turning to look at you.
“For real? One of Jaemin’s friends doing homework on a Friday night? I’m impressed, Jeno,” You yawn, tilting your head at him.
“For real.” His shy smile and averted gaze going unnoticed by you. “I’ll get a more comfy shirt for you from my mom’s closet,” he adds, making sure you’re okay by yourself before leaving you alone.
You take this chance to look around, your tired eyes scanning his room. His decor is unexpected, the dark and chic aura he usually carries not reflected at all in his personal space. The room is neat, a plethora of old film posters and polaroids lining the wall with his guitar hanging proudly next to his bed. Little letter blocks spell out the characters in Jeno’s name on his desk, the rest of the space being taken up by stationary and picture frames of his friends and family. There’s a record player a few feet away from you, the library of vinyls taking up the whole bottom shelf of his bookcase.
You gasp. The bookcase.
Your mouth opens in awe as your eyes scan the plethora of titles, with genres ranging from decade-old biographies to the fabled romance novels that your brother constantly teases him about. Model cars sit in a glass case at the top, right next to a stack of books that take up the width of the shelf.
Wait.
You squint your eyes to read the spines of those in the stack, your brain sobering up in seconds as you register what’s in front of you.
Pride and Prejudice. Norwegian Wood.엄마를 부탁해 (Please Look After Mom).
“No way,” you breathe out, leaning off the bed so you can make sure your eyes aren’t deceiving you.
“I’m back,” Jeno comes in suddenly, closing the door behind him. “my mom didn’t really have any shirts I thought you would like, so here’s mine instead. It was just washed like-”
He pauses, knowing something’s wrong when you don’t answer him. Looking up, he follows your gaze to the top of his bookshelf.
“You’re,” you swallow, getting up, “the one who- it was you?”
Jeno stops in his tracks, the forgotten shirt hanging limply from his arm as you make eye contact with each other.
He wants to deny it, say it wasn’t him who left little notes for you in the bookshop whenever he saw you feeling down, but he just can’t. He can’t do that to you.
With a sigh, he seats himself on the hardwood floor and just stares at the books in a contemplative silence.
“I think I knew who you were long before you ever noticed me,” Jeno finally confesses after a few minutes, the usually confident boy glancing out the window with a new sense of bashfulness.
Your heart beats faster at his words: Lee Jeno? Knew… me?
“I’d figured out that you were Jaemin’s sister long before he told us. He’d accidentally left his phone unlocked when I was over one afternoon last year; you and him are his lockscreen, you know,” he flicks his eyes over at you as you sink down to sit on the floor across from him, this new wave of information taking time to process in your brain. “To be honest, I started to notice you everywhere; at school, at the noraebang, even getting off of Jaem’s motorcycle one morning like a block away from the academy.”
You roll your eyes at the last part, Jeno’s added commentary of “why does he even do that,” causing you to nod your head fast in agreement.
“You gotta tell Jaemin that that whole ploy was completely pointless,” you say, shaking your head at just one example of your brother’s incredibly stupid ideas. Jeno laughs at your indignant expression, obviously familiar with said stupid ideas.
“And then,” Jeno continues, resting his arm just behind you against the bed frame, “you got that job at the bookstore downtown during the summer,” You smile subconsciously, just the thought of your second home filling you with warmth. “Mrs. Lee is my grandmother, you know.”
You turn to him incredulously, mouth open in shock.
“You’re kidding, Jeno,” you say, eyes wide as you stare at him. The gears in your head working at 100 kilos an hour, you finally understand the one thing that’s been living in the corner of your mind for the past few weeks. “So it was you who put the books there for me to find. You have the keys to the shop too, don’t you?”
Your questioning draws a sheepish grin out of the boy, and that’s when you realize that your conclusion is spot on.
“I couldn’t help it,” he continues, leaning closer to you. “I just couldn’t introduce myself to you in person when it actually came to doing it. And, on top of that, Jaemin would absolutely murder me. You’ve seen his reaction to Donghyuck’s flirting, and he’s not even serious half the time.”
He sighs, looking at his lap.
“Grandma says you’re the only reason why her shop is still open, and I just wanted to be able to communicate with you in the one way I know I can.”
You nod slowly, understanding Jeno more and more as he talks. Literature. He knows his way around literature.
“And then we actually met, and I really froze up that time,” he sighs, putting his fingers up to his temple in frustration. “I couldn’t even say anything to you.”
“Oh my god, Jeno,” you say, “was that what the ‘hmm’ was about when I first ran into you in our kitchen?” He nods, cheeks dusted with a faint blush. “That was truly a humbling experience, I literally told Sol about it and she laughed at me.”
Jeno groans in embarrassment as he throws his head against the bed, arm covering his face so he doesn’t have to relive that moment.
“You looked really pretty that night though, you know,” he mumbles through his arm, laughing when you bring your hands up to your face in mortification. He reaches out to gently take your hands away, his fingers circling lightly around your wrists. “It’s true.”
Jeno pauses just a few inches away from you, his gaze locked on yours as you both still in tandem. You could lean forward just a little and your noses would be touching. Before either one of you can move, however, the blaring sound of your phone’s screeching ringer goes off.
You can hear the huff of disappointment from Jeno as you pick up the call, putting the phone up to your ear.
“Y/N, where the fuck are you,” Sol’s voice shouts into the speaker. You can hear the bass of the party’s music blast through her side of the call, stifling her voice as she strains to listen for a response from your side. “Jungwoo’s gonna drive us home ‘cuz he’s a freak and somehow still sober.” You hear a faint “shut up, you know you love me,” in response.
“Give me two minutes and I’ll be down.”
You hang up the call quickly before turning your attention back to Jeno, who’s no longer beside you.
He stands in front of his bookshelf with his back facing you, thumbing through the novels on his shelf until he finds the one he’s looking for. He holds out the book for you to take, a bright expression on his face as he waits for your reaction.
“What’s this?” you ask, taking the novel between your hands and reading the cover.
Jeno makes you keep his copy of Agamemnon, your questioning eyes left unanswered as he pushes you out of his room with a smile.
“Tell me about it on Monday, yeah? Wanna hear your thoughts.”
Weirdly enough, it didn’t stop at just Agamemnon. Jeno started bringing you a book from his personal bookshelf every week, his excuses running along the lines of “I thought that you might like this” to a blatant “I wanted to see you.” Your heart still fluttered whenever you opened the front cover to a small, hand-written message from the boy, his intellectual fountain never running dry when it came to discussing his opinions with you.
Even Jaemin started noticing the shift in your relationship, smacking Jeno on the arm when he would accidentally die in their game from staring at your figure on the couch. He would make sure to visit your room before leaving for the evening, stopping for ten, twenty, thirty minutes more than expected.
And with time, it turned out that Jeno and you had more in common than you originally thought. Your love for music had you listening to his playlists later in the night than you’d like to admit, a playlist of yours dedicated specifically to his recommendations called J<3. You’d rather drop dead than let him see the sappy name though.
Your friends had noticed the change too, your occasional visits to your brother’s table in the cafeteria resulting in incessant teasing from your friends.
“100,000 won he’ll ask her out tomorrow,” Miyeon exclaims, putting her hand down on the caf table with determination.
“Nah girl, you’ve got it all wrong. 100,000 he’ll do it today,” Sol counters, a knowing look on her face as you hide behind your backpack in embarrassment. She may or may not have also run into Jeno buying a bouquet of flowers on the way to school, the said boy silencing her from blabbing with a tteokbokki bribe.
You secretly hope they’re onto something, the possibility consuming your thoughts as you push your way into the Lee bookshop for the afternoon.
What you didn’t expect to see was an untitled book sitting in the middle of your work space, its crimson binding setting apart from any other you’ve seen before. Before you can flip through it in curiosity, however, you notice a small catalog number pasted on its spine.
“Huh,” you mutter, “B612… B612…” you make your way down the shelves until you get to the B600s, placing you coincidently in the romance section of the store. “B610… here!”
You can feel the excitement bubbling up in you as you notice the slot where the book should be is already filled, an unfamiliar title greeting you. Pulling it from its place, you flip it open.
Giving a new meaning to romance. 
— J.
A small tap on your shoulder causes you to turn around in surprise, the familiar eye-smile of Lee Jeno meeting you face to face.
“Hey,” he whispers, taking the book from your hands. You let him move in closer, your back hitting the wall before he reaches up to tuck a piece of your hair behind your ear.
“Hi,” you smile up at him, the cold jewelry adorning his fingers clinking slightly as he rests a hand beside your waist.
“I was wondering if you’d like to go stargazing with me tonight,” he proposes, eyes flickering between yours as he awaits a response.
“I’d love to, Jeno,” you answer. “Definitely not the same stargazing where you have a bouquet of my favorite flowers ready, right?” you add on, a teasing lilt in your voice as Jeno’s face morphs into one of betrayal.
“Sol is pure evil,” he utters, eyes lost as you giggle at his expression.
He focuses back on you as the sound of your voice rings in his ears, the sight of your happy face leading his line of vision to your lips. You barely notice until he’s already a hair away, his warm breath shocking you back into reality. Jeno’s eyes meet yours, as if asking for silent permission.
You don’t know who leans in first, but it doesn’t matter when you feel his hands slip behind your waist and pull your body into his, slotting your lips together with a gentleness that takes you by surprise. Your arms come up to rest behind his neck as his mouth moves in sync with yours. You feel like you’ve been waiting for this moment for forever, the satisfaction of it finally happening driving your eagerness as you move impossibly closer to him.
Jeno tastes like candied citrus, sugar-tainted coffee and everything in between — he follows your movements easily, reciprocating with equal and innocent desire. His lips chase yours as you tilt your head for him, not stopping until you force yourself to take a breath.
He leans his forehead against yours, his touch soft as his hand brushes against your cheek lovingly. Pressing one last sweet kiss against your mouth, he reaches around you to grab the unnamed book that had led you here in the first place.
“For our story,” Jeno smiles, fitting the leather-bound into your arms.
Ours.
xoxo
2022 © kiachiako | all rights reserved.
2K notes · View notes
acescavern · 7 months
Text
GAME OVER - LEE JENO X READER
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GAME OVER
Navi - m.list
Pairing: Lee Jeno x Fem! Reader
Theme: Hint at college au! This is the same paring from my fic ‘Quiet’, fluff, smut, hint of angst? Crack maybe?
Synopsis: When your boyfriend invites you over to his place only to ignore you to play games with his friends all evening, you decide to go out and celebrate a mutual friend’s birthday instead. Jeno never minds when you go out to clubs and bars… only when a specific Loverboy doesn’t tend to leave your side all evening. 
Warnings: Lots of swearing, Probably over use of many variations of ‘fuck’, Big dick! Jeno, Pierced! Jeno, Possessive!Jeno, A hint of angst?, Jealousy, Jaehyun clearly likes you allot regardless of your boyfriend, He’s kind of a subtle dick?, the reader and Jeno are sort of in an argument, Unprotected sex, Exhibitionism ( They fuck in the restrooms and Jaehyun is outside), fluff at the end, Jeno is a smug little shit, marking,  idk what else. 
Word count: 2,698
Note: Hey my lovelies, another Jeno fic! I’m going to attempt to have all the NCT fics I write to be in the same universe. So, when Set Me Free is released it will fall in with this fic too even though it’s Intern!Mark. I know I said that last Jeno smut would be the one and only smut i do but honestly when inspiration strikes - you just gotta. I made the dividers and the header on Canva. Feel free to send asks about my fic characters. The spice is very brief in this one, i apologise - I didn’t want the smut to be too detailed. It's still my longest of the three i've published so far. I feel like my 'writing rust' is curing slowly? I apologise for any grammatical errors
Reblogs and feedback are appreciated! 
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“Are you sure the exit is covered, Mark?” Jeno heard through the device in his ear. 
“For the last time, Yes,” Mark grumbled in exasperation, as he scanned the surroundings. 
Jeno could only chuckle, observing from his characters spot on a nearby rooftop. His thumb slowly moved the left analog stick to change the camera angle and look around once more. “Chenle, on your left - there’s Hyuc-” He abruptly called out, voice raising with the excitement.
“What? Fucking whe- Shit!” Jeno had to pull one of his earphones out at the enraged screech that followed, Chenle shouting for Renjun to come and revive him. 
One game soon turned into two, then three, and now four. And it was as if Jeno had forgotten all about you for the moment. You, who was sprawled out on your back, boredly counting each line of profanity you heard your boyfriend boom down his mic. This wasn’t what you had in mind when Jeno asked you to come over after class. You’d hoped that he would opt out of squad night and spend some alone time with you - seeing as you hadn’t really had much time to yourselves since way before the camping trip last month, and whilst you loved his friends like family there was only so much of their company you could take.
You lazily picked your phone up from the floor, responding to a few messages until you hovered over the most recent one. “Coming out tonight? It’s Xiaojun’s birthday.” Your thumbs hesitated in typing out a reply, chin tilting to glance over at your boyfriend, who showed zero signs of stopping his game. As you stood, your knees and ankles groaned in protest from being sprawled out on the fuzzy rug for hours. 
“Jen..” You called out, shoulders slumping when the other didn’t respond. “Jen!” You repeated louder, unable to keep the hint of annoyance from your voice. Jeno jumped, he would never admit it but he almost forgot you were there. He removed an earphone, muting his mic to turn toward you. 
“Yes, Baby?” He hummed, raising a pierced brow. He hadn’t caught on to the clear boredom in your expression, nor the dejected tone to your voice as you spoke again. 
“I’m gonna head out, Ten invited me out for Xiaojun’s birthday.” You explained, Jeno’s eyes creasing at the corners as he smiled at the mention of the two. 
“Make sure Ten don’t go home with Johnny again.” Was all he said, already beginning to turn back to his computer. 
You couldn’t believe that was all he said, he didn’t even offer to go with you nor drop you off. You stood there for a moment, left eye almost twitching in anger at the whole situation. You weren’t a clingy girlfriend, you never demanded to be with Jeno all the time. It was quite the opposite actually, but there were times when he acted like this and it got to you. All you wanted was some one on one time.. 
Deciding to forego the impending argument for tonight, you shuffled closer to him to press a kiss to his forehead so you didn’t disturb his game. “You’re coming back here, right?” he mumbled, not even waiting your answer properly before a harsh “You fuck head, Hyuck!” escaped him. 
With a mumbled ‘sure’, you gathered your bag and left him to it.
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Jeno hadn’t even realised how he was acting. He still continued gaming with the guys for at least two or three more hours. He stretched his arms above his head on a groan, clicking his spine as he twisted in his chair. “Mark, pick another game. This one’s getting too easy to beat you at.” He snickered smugly. 
“You seen Hendery’s story, Jen?” The voice sounded almost devious. As if Jaemin was in on a secret nobody else was. 
Instead of answering, his hand swiped up his phone from beside his keyboard and swiftly unlocked it with his thumb. Jeno found Hendery’s profile and tapped on the story. His eyebrows shot up to his hairline. It was you, Xiaojun and Jaehyun. The later, Jeno wasn’t particularly a big fan of… okay that was a massive understatement. Quite frankly, Jeno hated the way the man looked at you. He knew Jaehyun had asked you out a few times, before you and Jeno had gone public, and whilst he knew you turned him down everytime… he also was very much aware of how persistent the older man could be. Not that Jeno didn’t trust you, he trusted you with his life but Jaehyun however? No.
Jeno’s gaze drifted over your frame in the picture, his breath drawing in sharply. “Fuck me…” he cursed. The dress you were wearing had him frozen in place. 
A short little black number, ending way too high up your thighs for his liking. Jeno could clearly see from your side pose that it was backless, the halter strings of the dress tied in a perfect bow at the back of your neck. The front? Jeno couldnt even think about the front right now, not when he could clearly see Jaehyun’s eyes were definitely not directed toward the camera lens. 
“Bro… you must have done something terrible in your past life.” His friend Donghyuck laughed into his ear. “The dude’s looking at her as if he won a fucking jackpot!” 
“Say’s the bitchless one.” Jisung quipped, adding on a rushed defense. “Not that ___’s a bitch, Jeno.” 
Jeno could only groan in despair. “What am I meant to do? I don’t even know what club she’s a-” 
“Envy. It’s written on the cup, Dumbass.” Jeno glared at his friends icon on the call, then glancing back to the image and sure enough, the black cup in your hand had the club logo printed on the side. “Jeno, you’re designated driver.. And who else.. Mark?”
Mark let out an unsure sound of agreement. “Uh.. yeah, sure. I’m not staying though, got work early in the morning and this internship is kicking my ass. I’ll drop you at the door and pick you up but that’s it.” 
Jeno was silently seething, continuing to tap through Hendery’s story as his friends made arrangements. In each one of them, the same guy was always with you. Even when you weren’t in the photograph, Jeno caught sight of you both in the background and with new determination, he shucked off his hoodie to get ready. 
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You were having a good time. Much better than being ignored by your boyfriend, that’s for sure. Part of you still wished you'd put your foot down and demanded Jeno pay attention to you. He was the one who asked you to go over after all. But, you much preferred dancing with your friends over causing arguments with Jeno.
You were dancing with Ten and Jaehyun when you first spotted the familiar head of black and pink streaked hair. The grinning man approaching the three of you the moment he caught sight. 
“Chenle? What are you doing here?” You shouted over the music, eyebrows drawn in confusion. 
Honestly, you could probably count on one hand the amount of times you’d seen Chenle make an appearance at a night club. The younger shrugged with faux innocence, his grin broadening as his gaze caught sight of someone over your shoulder. 
“Ask him.” He simply stated, with the nudge forward of his head being a signal for you to probably turn around. 
From the way the colour drained from Jaehyun’s face, however, you weren’t sure you wanted to. You could physically feel the anger radiating from the person behind you - You were 100% certain who it was. It was solidified when a hard chest pressed against your back, hot breath against your ear. 
“Yeah, ____. Ask me.” You’d never experience this Jeno yet. This Jeno was mad, His voice sharp and heavy, the emotion making it slightly husky. 
Chenle only grinned wider, shooting you a thumbs up as he coaxed your friends to the bar. You didn’t face your boyfriend yet. Unsure of what you might see, if his voice was anything to go by you’d probably fold in thirty seconds flat. Jeno has a special talent in making you fold. Instead, you crossed your arms over your chest, straightening your shoulders. How dare he come and crash your fun? After he ignored you for so many hours. 
“Finally remembered you have a girlfriend then?” Was your snarky reply. 
You were so glad you weren’t looking at him, from the way a tense silence followed your words. Honestly, you stupidly thought you’d made him speechless. A smirk tugging at the corners of your glossy lips. The triumph didn’t last for long, the victory slowly fading from your face at the almost sinister chuckle. 
“Could say the same about you.” Jeno’s clipped tone bit right back, his strong hands settling on your waist. “Someone should tell Jung fucking Yoon-Oh to get his own girlfriend and stop making googly eyes at mine.” Your boyfriend’s gravelly voice rumbled into your ear. 
That made you step forward, Jeno’s hands falling away from your waist before he could tighten his hold to stop you. Your mouth opened to speak but your words got stuck in your throat. There he stood, Pink hair swept back in probably the only style he knows how to do himself, black skinny jeans and a dress shirt with only the bottom few buttons done up to leave it open to the bottom of his sternum. He looked mouth watering. You could feel your resolve crumbling bit by bit. 
“He-He didn’t touch me.” You choked out. “He’s just a friend, Jen.” 
Your voice didn’t sound like you, it was breathy and low but somehow he heard you. Jeno’s facial features were set in a hard line, stormy with jealousy, the constant flashing lights around you reflecting off his eyebrow piercing. His jaw flexed. 
“To you, yes. But to him? Baby, when you showed up here looking like fucking aphrodite in that dress… he probably thought it was his birthday.” He said tautly. 
You didn’t have anything to say to that. You couldn’t dispel Jeno’s worries either. Whilst you had definitely noticed how the man in question hadn’t left you alone all night, you’d done nothing to try and put any distance toward you. Your anger at your boyfriend had clouded your judgement -  your mind telling you that Jaehyun was just acting as a comforting friend and listening ear. Though with the amount of times he’s still asked you out and the amount of ‘jokes’ he makes hinting at you being ‘too good’ for Jeno, you can’t say you blame your boyfriend for his blatant dislike. In his defense, Jeno had voiced his insecurities surrounding the man many times to you and you knew it was something he was very much bothered about. 
At the thought, your anger dissipated like a deflating balloon. If you’d just spoken to Jeno in the first place then you probably wouldn’t be in this situation. The apology died on your lips when both sides of your face was firmly cupped and Jeno leant in. His nose brushing yours as his almost possessive gaze met your startled one. 
“Mine. ____ you’re mine.” He spoke through gritted teeth, his statement firm. You didn’t disagree anyway. 
“Only yours.” Your instant reply had his shoulder relaxing only slightly. 
The tension was thick and neither of you had leant away. It was as if a rubber band had snapped when your lips met, hungry and claiming. Hands all over each other desperate to find purchase.
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That was how you found yourself in your current state. Pressed against the locked door to the club restroom with your dress bunched around your waist. Your high heels dug into the backs of Jeno’s thighs as each hard drive forward thudded your back louder against the wood. Jeno couldn't help but admire your smudged lip gloss, the rest of which he was sure to be smeared along his neck, the base of his cock, and his own lips. Eyeliner and mascara streaked further down your cheeks with each pleasured sob. 
Jeno’s firm grip on your thighs hoisted you against the door, he made no effort at all to silence your cries and moans. He didn’t want to this time. You were his and right now he really hoped Jaehyun was waiting outside for the restrooms to be unoccupied. With a deep moan of his own, his teeth reattached to your neck. It was as if he thought the bruises he marred your skin with would have faded in the last thirty seconds, his teeth pulling at the skin over them. 
“Say it again, Baby. Please.” He uttered breathlessly, delivering a particularly firm thrust.
Your words were incoherent, you may aswell have been babbling total nonsense. This man had filled you to the brim, pounding the same spot over and over enough for you to see stars.  An elongated whine left you, fingernails gripping at Jeno’s back underneath his shirt. Your thighs shook in his hands. 
“Yours. Jen-no! Always… Always yours.” You cried out, almost letting out a scream when he tilted your hips for the right angle. 
“Oh god… oh g-god!” Your sobs were like music to his ears, your pleas and praises fuelling his speed. 
Jeno lifted his head, sweat beading his brow as he kissed away your tears. His chest was flushed red from exertion. You tried to hold on longer, you really did but your orgasm crashed down on you almost abruptly, dragging a filthy, loud, wanton moan of his name from your throat. 
“Shit…” Jeno swore as you clamped down around him almost in a death grip, prompting his own release. 
You felt like your whole body was twitching in the aftershocks. You almost flinched at the sensitivity of Jeno’s piercing dragging against your sensitive parts as he slowly pulled out. The both of you were panting heavily like you’d run a London marathon. You made no effort to move and clean up yet, opting to draw Jeno’s torso into your body in a tight embrace. 
“I’m sorry for playing on your insecurities.” You admitted sheepishly into his ear. “I was just so annoyed.” 
A soft hum in reply was heard, the sound still lightly vibrating his chest. “Why were you annoyed?” 
“You invited me over to just ignore me for hours. I just wanted some quality time with you.” Your confession had Jeno’s mind clicking everything into place. 
“Oh… I didn’t think of it like that. ____ I just always want you around. I hate it when you go back to your apartment.” He lifted his head from where it was nuzzled comfortably against your marked chest. 
Your tongue darted out to nervously wet your lips, your right shoulder lazily lifting in thought. “Okay…” You started off, slowly. “Then… What if I didn’t?” You offered tentatively.
Jeno didn’t say anything as he processed your words, his lips pulling into the first smile he had directed at you all evening. “Then… I’d clear out half of the closet space for you… maybe get you a key cut.” 
“I’d like that.” His smile was contagious as hell, the corners of your mouth pulling up into an expression to match his own. 
Jeno quickly cleaned you both up after that with a mutual agreement that you should both go home and shower. His large hand wrapped tightly in your own. You both looked a disheveled mess, your panda eyes and his wrinkled shirt and messy hair. However, you’d made yourselves presentable enough to make it to the car. His free hand twisted the lock on the door, pulling it open to the stunned faces of your friends. None of them said anything but judging from the smirks and snickers, you’d surely get drilled in the group chat later. 
One face stuck out to Jeno amongst them all. The one closest to the door. The number one cause for his possessive streak this evening and whilst you were off saying goodbye to your friends, Jeno leaned in slightly for only Jaehyun to hear him. 
“Game Over, Loverboy.”
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ncteez · 2 years
Text
Premium Boy-Toy (l.j)
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the one where your best friend gifts you an entire man, and that man just so happens to be in high demand for everyone but you, until now at least.
ao3 | m.list | minors dni! | if you read it, reblog it.
requested by anon: “I don’t like getting off on my own.” + “No one’s ever touched fucked me like this,”
wordcount― 10.3k
pairing― stripper!Jeno x afab reader
content― switch jeno, rich/lonely reader, jeno gets kinda in a weird headspace after he cums lmao
note― congrats, you are witnessing the fact that i cannot defend that this is basically smut from start to finish. theres a lil bit of sugar baby jeno at the end tho so...um, also there's probably so many typos and way too many commas in this but to be fair i was in horny jail and just fucking going.
smut tags under cut:
smut tags: masturbation, jeno goes from having the power to releasing it to you completely, its very chaotic, stripping kind of, hand job, finger fucking, choking, sensitivity, edging but it’s his own fault, jeno talks a lot until he can’t anymore, titty sucking :D, protected sex
It was a gift, or rather, he was the gift. A down payment of $600 told you enough about the man who offers his services to lonely, sad, rich women who had no one to spend their money on. Your best friend had been taunting you with the idea for months. Since she heard of the infamous Jeno actually, even more so after she experienced him herself. She has mentioned how clean he is, how toned he is, how well he moves his body, how he teases just enough, and how he looks better in heels than she does herself.
You still can’t fully take that last part seriously. A male stripper in heels? Must cost extra for those who like that sort of thing, which is very clearly your best friend. Noted. Regardless, she had mentioned whispers from the elite women she associates with that sometimes he even gives an extra treat with his services, free of charge. What that treat is, neither of you know, but the implications are damning.
Even with all of the information being dangled in front of your face, presented as if the image should be more delicious than the century-old wine you have every night at dinner, you’re not interested. For the entire duration of her praising this all-amazing stripper, it hasn’t interested you. There’s shit to do and life to worry about, constantly actually. So, naturally, when she appears at your doorstep with an envelope in hand and yet another expensive bottle of champagne, you were wondering if you forgot your birthday because it wouldn’t be the first time.
She hadn’t pushed past you to come inside, she didn’t say a word actually, which was suspicious but kind of appreciated. Upon opening the small gift, it appears that she, herself, had dropped that $600 down payment in an attempt to force you out of being the stick in the mud that you are. The note states the date and time, which, curse her for knowing your schedule so well, and the demand that it’s your job to tip him and pretend to have some inkling of an interest.
So now, here you are. Waiting for that knock on your door and wondering why you even tried to look nice for a man coming to swing his meat in your face. Fucking unbelievable, you think, that there is a stripper out there that only does private parties, and your own best friend thinks you need it? You could have any dick you want, why the fuck should you have to pay just to look?
Surely, this man is expecting more than just you, alone on your couch with a sound system beyond his wildest dreams, one that you’ve only ever utilized when you need to watch a youtube tutorial on how to clean your windows the way the cleaner does. Surely, he’s expecting more than a woman who isn’t interested at all in this.
~
          To your dismay, Jeno appears to have already been told that you’re a nightmare to fluster or gain interest from. The first words he says to you when you open the door for him is, “She said you’d give me that look.” Still, even so, Jeno saunters in like he owns the place, and you can immediately tell he’s done this probably hundreds of times before. He appears comfortable in a place he’s never been, in a home probably much nicer than his own, finding his way to where his stage should be for the night.
“Big place. Looked smaller on the outside.” He says to your silence, looking around and placing his bag beside your couch.
“The smaller the better, sometimes it feels too big in here for just me.” You admit, watching him curiously as he pulls wires from his bag.
“Must get lonely.” Jeno shrugs, eyeing how stiff you are as he unravels his chords. “And, I assume, this is why I am being paid to be here.”
“This wasn’t my idea. Just so you’re aware.” You cross your arms, unimpressed by the man already.
“I was told that I need to show you a good time, I already knew you were new to this kind of thing.” He smiles, continuing to set up. “Besides, first-timers are my favorite to entertain.”
          Curiosity spikes again, only for a moment though. You really did think that the initial meeting would be different, less casual, even. Wasn’t he supposed to pretend to be a cop or something? Showing up and pressing play on a magical-appearing stereo that bumps the worst of music before gyrating at you? Instead, he’s here setting up and surprisingly, fully clothed in a tacky and ratty sweater with jeans that hug against his thighs. He doesn't appear at all to be a man that gets paid to take his clothes off for lonely hearts. You kind of want to ask him questions, but also you don’t think you should be learning more about him considering that’s not why he’s in your living room right now.
“Do you have mood lighting or are we doing this in morgue lighting?” He casually asks after plugging his laptop into your sound system and placing it on one of the various shelves. It almost makes you laugh.
You make your way to the wall, clicking the buttons on the panel to show him the various lighting options this room offers that you very rarely use.
“Perfect, that one.” He says from across the room, focusing his eyes from his laptop screen to you and your extravagant light switch. “A little lower.” He guides, knowing which lighting accentuates his toned body the best. You turn the nob a bit for him, wondering just how good he must be at dancing for women with houses like this.
“A little more.” He smiles.
          You dim the lighting just a smidge more, looking at him and the way he genuinely seems to be at ease.
“Right there.” He says in a gentler tone before focusing his eyes back on his laptop.
          You watch him tap his fingers across the keyboard, gliding around the little touchpad, and then, as if he’s the one who owns this house, he takes a step back and walks to your couch.
“Come sit, I’ll go get myself ready.” He smiles over at you as he pats the cushions. “Which way is the bathroom?”
Without a care in the world, you point towards the bathroom and decide he doesn’t need help getting there. Most people would be petrified of a strange man in their home, wandering the halls with the ability to come upon any room with unprotected goods. If he’s a thief of any kind, you can replace pretty much everything you own anyway. You don’t care.
Once he rounds the corner and you can hear the bathroom door close, you make your way to the couch and attempt to make yourself comfortable. Despite the countless naps you’ve had here on this plush and soft surface, you can’t bring yourself to find comfort sitting here right now. You’re curious about Jeno, yes, of course, you are. You’re curious about how much money he makes doing this, if he likes doing it, how he got started, what he does to advertise, and many other countless things, but you’re not entirely curious about how he does it. Sure, he’s attractive. Hot as hell, actually, but that doesn’t mean you should have to pay for attention from a man.
It almost feels like an insult from your best friend. Does she genuinely think you couldn’t go out right now and bag a man? Is this fun for her? A hobby, maybe?
“You overthink too much,” she always says to you, and yeah, perhaps she’s right. Maybe, since it’s going to happen anyway, you should at least try to enjoy it.
~
          Jeno stays in the bathroom for a good thirty or so minutes, and each of those minutes was like a nightmare in your head. You were back and forth between not wanting to be in this situation, to fighting yourself for being such a fucking bore. A very attractive man is preparing himself for you to look at. He’s going to come out here and do his best to turn you on, the least you can do is let yourself enjoy it. The very least you can do is tip him well and rub one out later after he’s gone and you’re on the verge of jumping out a window because you never make time to fuck.
          Fucking thankfully, the moment he comes out of the bathroom your brain adjusts itself into the right mind-state. You actually can’t look away from him even if you tried when he reveals himself. He isn’t dressed in anything that looks cheap, tacky, or even overly sexual. If anything, he looks expensive. Jeno genuinely looks like this is a place where he belongs.
          You can physically feel yourself react to him in his blazer and dress pants. Business is what got you to where you are today, but never have you found it sexy in any way, until now, at least. The suit looks much like what your team would wear in your company, shyly coming into your office and stuttering through their questions and need for approvals. Jeno isn’t stuttering in his suit though. He’s standing confidently at his laptop as if he hadn’t even noticed you staring yet.
          God, the way his abs were glistening in the dim lighting before he had turned away from you. The way the belt held his pants on his hips, begging to be unbuckled, the way the blazer widened his shoulders much better than his sweater from before. The smell that wafted off him was even prettier when paired with the image of him. He smelled like a sweet type of musk, something you’d be interested in drinking alongside your dinner on special occasions maybe. Assuming that scent is the reason his abs were fucking shining. Fucking body oil. He uses body oil.
          When he turns to face you again, this time with the bass of whatever song he had chosen to play accentuating each of his steps towards you, your cheeks start to heat up. He hasn’t rolled his body once and you’re already feeling like you could eat him alive, with the smirk on his face leading your eyes down to his neck, chest, abs, and that fucking belt.
“Good?” He asks, leaning over you and placing his arms on either side of you, gripping the back of the couch.
          Jeno can already tell that you’re going to be fun to play with. Such a harsh exterior from the beginning. To be fair, he was warned and prepared by your friend, which happens to be his newest client who tipped him more than anyone before.
          You nod to him, still eyeing his body in a shameful show of how much you did need this. What’s so bad about paying to look when he’s presenting himself like this?
“Rule number one,” He smiles, swaying in front of you and keeping his grip on the couch, mostly so that way you feel trapped and, hopefully, mesmerized by him. “I only accept bills of twenty, fifty, and one hundred. If you give me a fucking dollar, I’m leaving.”
          That’s not a problem because, despite your internal protests, you had only pulled out the bigger bills anyway. You nod to him, watching the way his hips start to swirl, too afraid to look up at his face because you know he’s looking down at you, intensely, probably.
“Rule number two.” He leans down, lowering his voice and blowing against your ear in a short breath. “Don’t touch me without asking.”
          You almost wanted to reach out immediately to touch him. You wanted to feel how slick that body oil was on him. You wanted the scent on your fingers for later. Mostly, you wanted to feel how warm he must be.
          This time he doesn’t wait for you to nod, because he can already see that familiar look on your face that he gets from most of his clients. This is why he’s so in demand.
“Rule number three.” He continues, pulling back and this time positioning his face in front of yours because this one is the most important. This one he needs you to look at his face rather than his body. “I won’t touch you unless ask me to.”
          What you’re not realizing at this moment is that rule number three isn’t one he often states. Sometimes, very rarely, Jeno is in a mood when he goes out on a job. He always has condoms with him just in case, but never intends to use them until meeting said client. She’s paying to look at him, not to touch him. If she piques his interest, he offers a third rule. If a client never hears of the third rule, they know that even if they ask to touch him, he wouldn’t allow it.
          Besides, the only reason he took so long in your bathroom is that his hand, for some reason, felt so good against his cock for the split second he had of tucking it into the most attractive position. He knew instantly that tonight was one of those nights, and hopefully, you take the bait.
          When you swallow and look him dead in the eye, he thinks you know what it means. He feels lucky that his cock is acting up. Lucky that your friend brought him to your attention, lucky that you’re looking so pretty and already so flustered by just looking at him.
          “Deal?” He finally says, tilting his head a bit and waiting for you to nod.
          You nod slowly, glancing down at his body again. He can tell you want him to start moving now, really moving.
“Is the song okay?” He asks, pulling back and bracing himself still against the back of your couch. “It was picked specifically for you.”
          You’re not entirely sure what he means by that, but you assume your friend must have told him what she thinks you like.
“It’s good,” You say, glancing away from his eye contact and suddenly feeling like a love-sick puppy in the way you feel so incredibly fucking shy right now by this man.
          He notes that you didn’t ask what he meant by the song being picked for you, but he doesn’t push it. He’s better at talking with his body anyway.
          Jeno begins to focus now, opting to start slowly and work his way up, specifically to work you up. He backs himself away from the couch, centering himself in your living room as he closes his eyes and stretches his arms up to loosen his body a bit more. Most of his clients love to see the way his muscles move as he stretches, so he hopes you’re of the same mind.
          This entire playlist is one he picks for clients like you. The ones he intends to let see all of him if they ask. The music is slow, the bass is strong, and each beat runs through his body in a way that makes him feel like he can move like he’s fucking you from across the room without so much as a touch.
          He’s at his best when this sort of thing happens inside of him, the eye contact is more intense, his hips are more pointed at a reason other than payment, and he feels his most attractive like this too.
          You’re sitting painfully stiff across from him on that couch, and he can’t help but keep a smirk plastered on his face for how lucky his other clients would think you are experiencing him like this for your first time of all things. He’s never attempted this with a new client, but god, look at you.
          His hips move on their own for the most part, he doesn’t have to think much when he’s getting into it. Jeno easily dances along to the music for you, not yet removing any amount of clothing. It’s the build-up for him, and he thinks it may be that for you too. Though, of course, if he leaves your house tonight with tips in his pockets and a hard, untouched cock, that’s fine too.
          You watch him, seeing the way the dim lighting of the room accentuates each little dip and rise against his chest and abdomen. He’s well-defined, with an immaculate body for this line of work. You find yourself understanding why he’s so favored in the group of lonely women.
          As the song begins to fade, Jeno appears to readjust himself. He watches you during the brief silence, a sort of fondness in his eyes making you wonder if he’s looking at you or if he does this for everyone. It felt intimate, and not at all like the silence needed to be filled with anything other than eye contact.
          For him though, a woman has never met his eye between songs. Usually, their eyes are glued to his chest, cock, hands, and neck– never his eyes. When the next song begins, he closes a bit of distance and skews his body so that you’re now watching him in profile.
          In some way, you have him feeling a bit flustered in the way you keep meeting his eye despite his body making a show for you. He’s never had to act with his face more than he has at this moment when he’s dropping to his knees during a bass drop, thrusting his hips forward in an attempt to make you imagine yourself bent over on the floor in front of him, you’re still searching his face.
          Only glancing down for a moment, he finds himself flicking his own eyes down, trying to guide yours somewhere else. He knows his job is to be looked at, to be seen, but this is far too seen for his liking, but when you gasp as his motions, skewing your mouth open slightly and gripping the hem of your dress, he realizes.
          The fact that this is your first time doing this is one thing, but the way you are experiencing it appears to be new ground for him. Typically, he speaks with his body, and it appears that now, he needs to portray some form of sexuality to you with his eyes. So, he does what you’re supposed to be doing.
          You watch him intently, not fully realizing that you’re not even watching him fuck the air in front of him. His eyes move from yours once again, this time to your body. He watches the way your fingers grip the fabric of the dress he would like to see somewhere on the floor later. He watches the way you slightly rub your legs together, almost too easy to miss. That alone was enough for him as his eyes bore holes into you, much like you should be doing to him.
          Jeno’s dancing turns more intentional, when he leans back on his arms, throwing his head back but keeping his eyes on you, he tries to show you what he would do to you specifically. You glance at his hips and the way he rolls them up, not even to the beat of the song.
          His blazer begins to slide off his shoulders by this point, and he continues his movements, watching the way your eyes take in the sight of his skin becoming more and more visible, you’re fighting now to keep eye contact as you stare at the way his abs flex when he presses forward. It’s a shame you’re not seeing his cock grow beneath his pants, honestly.
          With his blazer now pooled at his wrists, he finally pulls his eyes from you to try and regain his focus. He wants you so bad right now, and it’s bullshit because you’re supposed to be the one thinking like this for him. He can see that his movements are causing a reaction for you, but god, he’s practically masturbating himself against the inseam of his pants just to get you to say something to him.
          It’s time to turn it up a notch, the current song is soon to be replaced with another. His favorite song to dance to, his favorite song to fuck to. Because to be fair, by the time it hits the third song on this specific list, usually his clients are already shaking under him. Not you though, you’re holding yourself back, he can fucking see it.
          Ignoring the fact that it’s technically not time for him to move on to his next move-set, he leaves his blazer on your floor as he positions himself back on his knees, turning towards you this time and looking you straight in the eye. The fact that he’s hard and horny is enough to bring his confidence up enough to be seen in any way you’re looking at him.
          He’s slow when he does it, crawling a few steps closer to you. You watch his shoulders move in the light, his eyes dark, and his hair starting to fall from its perfected position. You don’t mean to, but you rub your legs together in a more obvious way at seeing him in front of you, coming towards you in such a way.
          Jeno looks smaller when he’s on his hands and knees, eyes looking up at you as if he could eat you whole. You wonder if your face reads the same for him, and nervousness begins to hit you again.
“You’re hot when you look down at me like that.” He says out of nowhere through the music, stopping in place and planting himself right at your feet. “I’d like to touch you for this next song, is that okay?”
          Never mind the fact that Jeno has never asked to touch a client before. He’s never had to ask. He can’t help it though; it doesn’t hurt to try right? Because his cock is aching in his pants, and he isn’t quite ready to wait for an entire two more songs to get them off just for you to see that he’s very much wanting to fuck you right now.
          On the other hand, you were so fucking fast to accept. Yes, yes, he can touch you. You want him to touch you. The entire idea that he’s just doing his job is so far in the back of your mind right now that you almost forget that he probably does this to most of the women he’s paid to see. Quite frankly, you don’t give a fuck.
          Jeno smiles at you as the current song finally begins to fade out. The silence is back and this time, you’re not looking into his eyes when you nod at him.
          He’s slow when he places his hands on your knees, rubbing up, up, up, until he’s able to lift himself from his knees and hover over you. Did he intentionally push your dress up your thighs? Yes. He wanted to see you rub them together in full shameless view for him. He wanted to know what his body does to you. Jeno stands hovering over you for a moment, hands staying on your thighs as he stares down at them as you do just as expected. For a moment, he forgets he’s supposed to be dancing for you, hell, he’s already shirtless and covered in oil.
“I’m going to get on top of you, okay?” He explains, removing his hands from your thighs and now gripping the back of the couch again as he did before.
“Do you do this for all of your clients?” You ask with a smile, suddenly and intensely into the man spreading his legs to prop himself up on your laugh.
          He shakes his head with a laugh, grabbing your hands and placing them on his chest.
“You can touch me, by the way.” He foregoes his own rule, not wanting to wait any longer for you to ask him yourself. “Just pull away if you don’t want to.” He adds, guiding your hands over his chest and down his abdomen.
“You didn’t answer my question–” You interrupt him, feeling your pussy drip against the fabric of your panties.
          He chuckles sweetly, stopping your hands at his abs and holding them there.
“No,” He admits, beginning to focus on the music now that he’s got your hands on him. “I don’t do this for all of my clients.” He adds, swirling his hips as he hovers over you, and avoiding eye contact.
“Oh, yeah?” You nervously chuckle back, feeling his muscles move beneath your hand as he thrusts his hips forward and back.
“You know,” He suddenly says, guiding your hands a bit lower. You feel the cold metal of his belt buckle against your palm. You think he’s going to stop there, like maybe this is just something he does to amp up the show or something, but no. He drags your hand down further until you feel the fabric of his pants rubbing harshly against it.  
          Your pulse begins to ring in your ears as you avoid looking to where your hand is right now, taking in a deep breath and shooting your gaze up to his. He’s not looking at you though. Jeno has dropped his head, staring at where he’s got your hand, and his hips are dancing into it, against it.
“I’ve never gotten this hard over a client that doesn’t want me.” He admits shamefully in a pathetic little laugh, bucking against your palm again to the beat of the song. “I can’t tell if I’m doing my job well enough,”
          You continue to watch him, and then you finally look at your hand. The sheer size of him rubbing against you is…it’s something entirely different than what you were expecting from this man. It feels forbidden; it feels wrong but goddamn. The man is masquerading his dancing so he can fuck himself against your hand right now.
“You’re doing so well, Jeno,” You finally say to him. The first compliment you’ve given him since he got here.
“Oh yeah?” He questions, lifting his head to meet your eyes again. “Unbuckle my pants then.”
          Despite this being a part of his job, he’s feeling a little desperate for you to do something on your own now, even if he has to tell you to do it.
“Show me how well I’m doing for you,” He raises his brows, now removing his hands from yours and running them up his chest. His hips continue to move on you, and he watches you as you hold your hand in place. “Come on, you don’t have to be shy, baby, I saw the way you were squeezing your thighs earlier.”
          Like a book, the two of you read the other at this moment. You’re not a woman of many words and he seems to understand that now, taking your single compliment and running with it. You do as he says, unbuckling his buckle and pulling it from his pants.
“Keep that with you,” He stresses, pressing his hips forward again as he continues his dance.
          Placing the belt beside you, you honestly have no idea what the fuck you’re doing, but you like it. You reach back to unbutton the pants, unzipping them just moments later. Then you still your hands, looking up at him with a curious face.
“Take it out, go on.” He says, “You know you can pull away if you don’t want to do anything, I’m not forcing anything. I’m asking.”
          You don’t even nod or pull your eyes away from him, knowing that you’re about to touch his bare cock as he sits spread across your lap. A lewd scene, one that feels both more intimate than you’ve ever been with another person, and also nowhere near as intimate as you need it to be.
          Jeno looks at you, so much eye contact becoming more and more comfortable for him as he learns what you seem to like. He can feel his cock spring free, the cool air rushing past his shaft and causing him to shiver on top of you. He still only looks at you during this moment, wondering why you’ve let your hands fall to his thighs until he sees that look in your eye again. You’re waiting to be told what to do. For some reason, he keeps forgetting that you’ve never had a stripper in your home before, let alone be seduced by one.
“Touch me,” He says gently, reaching back down to your hands and urging you to grab his cock. “You don’t have to move, I can do the rest–” He chokes out a groan mid-sentence feeling you grasp him in your fist with little effort or fear behind your eyes.
          Such a silent woman beneath him. He can only read you in specific moments, which is kind of nice. You’re hesitant but willing, and he wonders if he will get to actually touch more of you after this.
          Your hand is wrapped around his cock when he focuses his hips. He dances like he normally would for any woman during this song, it just so happens that he blatantly pretends to fuck to this song, because usually, he is fucking to this song. So, his dance is nothing short of fucking your fist. Still, he tries to keep up the act. He keeps his face intense, moving his shoulders and arms as if it’s easy for him not to turn the tables and position you so that your leg is on his shoulder and he’s rubbing his cock against your, hopefully, dripping panties.
          A struggle especially when you tighten your grip on him. He can see your pupils blow out, and he can see the way you’d probably ask for him to touch you much like he did, so he slows his hips a bit, intentionally thrusting slowly into your fist and holding back his own moans of pleasure.
“Sorry,” he says, trying to act as though he can’t see the look in your eyes and how it’s changed since he started dancing. “I don’t like getting off on my own.” He adds, now allowing his hips to still just to see if you’d pull your hand back.
          You don’t move your hand away, to his surprise, you are actually starting to move your fist on him.
“That’s good,” He groans, looking down at your hand. “It feels good,” He shakes a bit, shivering at the fact that you’re jerking him off now. “Can I stop pretending that I’m dancing for you now?”
          You chuckle at him, nodding with a confident sort of smile. It hit you quickly when you watched him chase his pleasure using your hand. He’s so hard and so incredibly thick, you’d be stupid if it didn’t turn you on. You’ve barely said anything to him and he’s begging for you to look at him, watch him, touch him. You feel powerful, and you’re used to that. It feels like everything has fallen into place despite this situation being far outside of your comfort zone. You’re finding similarities. Men beneath you, begging for your money, giving you all of their attention, apologizing for normal human errors. So, what if Jeno didn’t beg for your money, he’s begging for your hands on him practically, and apologizing for asking you to do it.
“No,” You say, and you can see the shock on his face. “Keep dancing, it’s what you’re being paid to do.”
          Jeno’s eyes kind of fall now as he nods his head. You almost feel his cock falter at the same time, but you move your hand a bit faster, urging him to do whatever it is that’s on his mind. You want to see if he will actually do as he’s told because you’re the one with the money.
          He does his best, and honestly, his best far surpasses some of the most notable dancers on the market in his opinion. It’s just a bit hard to continue this act when you’re gripping his cock in such a beautiful way.
“You’re not going to ask me to touch you more?” He asks meekly, almost as if he’s hiding his face from you now.
          You smile in response, pupils blown enough so that you can swallow each movement his body makes as he reluctantly moves to the beat. Honestly, your ears are ringing, and you don’t think you’ve heard a single lyric from the music playing since he placed your hands on him, but you think that should be a given.
“No wonder she liked you so much.” You start to speak, now loosening your grip on him just to see him frantically chase the warmth of the little circle your hand makes for him.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asks slightly out of breath. “You thought, I let her get me off like this?”
          It almost pisses him off that you’d say such a thing to him, but then again, he didn’t exactly tell you that this situation is reserved for very few people.
“You’re talking a lot of shit for someone who couldn’t even look at me properly less than thirty minutes ago.”
          You skew an eyebrow at him, watching him fight for control as he pulls his hips back and shuffles back onto his feet. You glance down at his cock and the way it stands painfully erect and twitching at the sudden lack of friction.
“You’re talking a lot of shit for a man who needs to cum.”
          He stills himself, a blank expression turning to that of a devilish smile, eyes narrowing as he leans over you.
“Are you suggesting that you’ll make me cum if I stop talking?”
          You smile, spreading your legs a bit and feeling the stickiness that has formed between them as he was on top of you.
“You know,” You mock him slightly, watching his eyes glue themselves to your thighs. You make a show to spread your legs a bit for him. “She told me that some clients have gotten special treatment from you, I wasn’t expecting that they were the ones getting you off.”
          Honestly, it’s like he hit the fucking jackpot with you. Challenging him, mocking him with his cock out in front of you. If you so much as wiggled your pussy in front of him, he would instantly be back on his knees, letting you soak his face in whatever way you please.
“Go on, dance.” You say, “You’re still wearing your pants.”
          It’s almost like a game now, he feels. You know he’s trying to seduce you and it seems you’re enjoying the fact that you haven’t let him yet. He knows that you intend to let him, so yeah, fuck yeah, he’s going to play along.
          He raises a brow at you as he steps back, trying to ignore the fact that his cock is aching to be touched again. You still want your show? Good. He’ll fucking give you a show.
          Jeno does as he’s told, keeping his eyes on you the entire time. He watches the way your legs spread when he rubs his hands down his naked chest, straight down to his cock where he only briefly tugs at himself. He can almost see under your dress when you do it, but the lighting is far too dim to see what his act is doing to you just yet.
          When he saunters behind you, dipping his head by your neck and whispering the dirtiest part of the song into your ear, he can see your sharp intake of air, and he watches the way your breasts move with your chest as you do it.
          He stays behind you now, ghosting his hands over your neck, moving down your arms, and then to your chest. He doesn’t touch, because you still haven't asked yet, but he knows the hovering alone is enough. It’s like he can feel the electricity beneath his fingers clash with whatever you’re radiating back at him.
He continues to sing against your ear, leaning further forward to plant his hands on your thighs again because that’s the one spot you already let him touch.
“Spread your legs for me.” He gently demands between lyrics.
          Jeno watches for a moment from behind you, pressing his cock against the back of the couch the moment he sees your legs fall open. Your dress is hiked up past your waist now, enough that he can at least see a glimpse of the skin closest to your pussy.
“Ask me to touch you.” He says against your ear, trailing his fingers up your thighs enough to where he would need you to tell him to stop otherwise. “I just need to know that you want it.”
          It’s silent save for the music playing, and his cock is aching so badly by this point that each time he rubs against the couch he’s almost breaking down to fucking beg you to let him touch you. That alone could make him cum, but god, you’re so good at playing hard to get even if it’s blatantly obvious that he’s already got you. You’re fucking playing with him, and he can’t decide if he loves it or hates it. Your silence is so damning to his dripping cock, and his skin feels so hot right now that he’s almost forgotten that he was paid to be doing anything that’s not this.
“I’m not asking for it.” You finally say, breathing in deep by the way his hands keep rubbing higher and higher, to the point that it’s genuinely difficult to not ask for it. “I want to be the one granting permission, Jeno.” You lean your head back and rest it against the cushions of the couch, and he instantly moves from your neck to look down at you.
“Oh.” He says, having no issue at all to be the one to ask, beg, plead, or cry. Whatever it takes to get a feel of you.
          Another long moment of eye contact has him trailing his hands higher than before, almost to the point that there’s no skin on your thighs to touch that isn’t your panty line or pussy.
“Can I?” He asks, leaning down a bit closer so that his face is mere inches from yours. “Will you take my fingers?”
          You could mistake this distance as something that should be closed between the two of you. Barely hearing his question at this moment, the only thing you want is to kiss him, and it hit you so fucking fast that you almost forgot he’s doing anything you ask of him.
“Come again?” You smile, blinking up at him.
          He breathes in, giving you the same smirk that appears on his face each time you entertain him a bit too much.
“Will you take my fingers?” He asks again, this time already moving his hands to trace up your panties and feeling the wetness seep through onto his fingertips. “You’re already dripping baby; I can imagine they’d slide right in.”
          Typically, you wouldn’t like being called that, but he’s done it twice now and each time it had your stomach in knots over it. His voice sounds like honey when he says it to you, and his darkened eyes only made it feel like there was some sort of desperation behind it. Finally, you press your hips up against his fingers.
“I’ll make you feel so good–” He continues, tracing his fingers up and down just to feel the sticky mess that’s there for him and him alone. “Moving your hips isn’t an answer though, baby.”
          You swear he can read your mind, there’s no fucking way he would say it like that without knowing how you just internally admitted to liking it.
“Yes,” You let out shortly, darting your eyes away from him.
          You can hear him release a breathy laugh and lay his head back beside your neck. His soft singing picks back up as he solely intends to listen to you now more than the music. He continuously presses his cock against the couch, holding his hips in place as he tenses his muscles throughout the time he’s spent in this position.
          Your hips lightly chase his fingers. They go up when his fingers trace down, and he can’t help but smile at the way he’s getting exactly what he wants despite your sudden change of personality towards him. He likes this version of you better, if he’s being honest.
          Jeno finally reaches around you and pulls at your panties, harshly tugging them down your legs as far as his arms can reach. He watches as you push them further down, kicking them onto the floor and relaxing back against the couch.
“Eager?” He tries to tease, but he knows you won't respond, and you dont. He just continues, now allowing himself to feel your bare pussy for the first time. Sure, he can’t see it in full right now, but sometimes just feeling was enough for him.
“You’re so wet right now—” He groans, pressing his cock against the back of the couch again, chasing any amount of friction he can have. His fingers slip into places he hadn’t even attempted to touch yet solely because of how wet you are. “You held out for so long.” He coos, teasing around your hole and chuckling at the way your breathing has grown a bit labored by this alone.
          When you grab his hand though, practically forcing him to drive his fingers into you, he’s taken by surprise. The warmth envelops his digits in a way that is audible and excruciatingly sexy to him. He doesn’t even attempt to hold back now.
“They really did slip right in–” He rasps against your neck, scissoring his fingers into you and feeling how you clench around them. His mind is racing. “I bet you could take my cock so well.”
          He’s talking to himself more than you right now, smelling your hair and becoming obsessed with the way you feel, look, and smell when you’re within inches of him like this. Better yet, he knows you won’t respond to a single thing he says but it doesn’t matter too much considering you’re starting to let out little whimpers.
“What was that?” He asks, running his other hand up your body until he gets to your neck. “Let me hear you, baby, make that sound again.” He adds as he pushes your chin back, resting his hand flush across your neck and practically holding you down that way as he begins to plunge his fingers into you.
“You can do it right?” He’s still talking, still humping your couch, still fucking you so good with his fingers. “Come on, do it again.”
          It’s like he’s working for it, and god, he’s doing so well. You can’t help it when you let out a choked moan, his hand straining your neck enough that any sound would come out strained and desperate. You can feel his grasp tighten against your neck as his fingers fuck faster, harder. His palm is placed so perfectly that you can feel your clit being rubbed harshly. It’s incredibly overwhelming.
“Yes, fuck–again.” He groans, bucking his hips forward and frantically lifting his head from your shoulder so that he can look down at you again. He’s heard you, now he wants to see how desperate you are.
          When you open your eyes again, all you can see is his face, all you can feel are his long fingers pressing in spots that haven’t been played with in a long time. You smell only his sweet, musky body oil, and jesus christ it’s hitting you in every spot that feels good. You can feel the cold metal of the rings on his fingers against your neck, and when he tightens his hand even more than before, another choked-out moan falls from your lips.
          You strain to keep your eyes on him through this moment of pleasure, watching the way his teeth appear and scrape at his bottom lip when you make noises for him. So, you do it again, and again, and again.
          He fingers only continue their aggressive assault inside of you, his palm rubbing harshly at your clit, and his other hand around your throat– honestly you could fucking sing songs to him in this moment.
“You’re shaking,” He comments, eyes flicking to your body. “Can you even breathe right now?”
          His smile is so fucking mean, knowing full well that you can’t breathe and only tightening his hand as hard as he thinks you can handle can after the fact. It doesn’t even cross his mind that you don’t want this, the way you’re moaning for him is all he needs to know that you’re into this, that you like being choked and fucked.
          When you moan out yet again, he releases his hand from your throat and leans down to your lips. He’s only a bit shocked that you don’t even hesitate to kiss him. What he wanted to do was degrade you, but now he’s just tasting the way you’re desperately trying to kiss him and if he’s wanting to be real right now, that was way better than his own idea.
          He doesn’t kiss his clients, but at this point, things have already lasted much longer and have gotten far more intimate than they ever have with those few lucky women. He’s never asked for it, he’s never gotten so much pleasure out of finger fucking them, and he’s not once ever fucked against a couch to chase his high.
          Pupils blown, he allows himself to kiss you, slowing his fingers unintentionally as he focuses on your lips and tongue. You kiss him better than he’s ever been kissed before and falling into it was terrifyingly easy. His hand moves on its own accord, cupping your jaw as he attempts to deepen the kiss past his comfort level.
          But he is comfortable, and that’s precisely what’s uncomfortable about it.
“You can take it, right?” He pulls back in a breath, waiting for you to open your eyes and look at him. “My cock, please.”
          Your eyes widen, somehow managing to forget that he’s been totally neglected through all of his. Are you really about to fuck this stripper? The man you were against meeting? The man who has $600 dollars in his bank account from your lovely, beautiful, amazing best friend? The man that you’re probably going to give the entirety of the contents in your purse to the moment he packs it up and moves on as if it never happened? The answer is yes.
“I can.” You look up at him, intentionally fucking yourself on his fingers now because it appears he’s stopped functioning altogether.
          Within a second, his fingers are out of you and his presence is gone. You lift your head to watch him, cock still out of his pants that are also still at his thighs. He goes directly to his bag, and as if he knew it was going to happen, he pulls out a condom and slips it on without so much as a sigh of relief.
“Oh,” You let out in a huff, disappointed.
          He raises his eyes to you as he lets his pants fall to his ankles and steps out of them but his face isn’t concerned nor bothered. Honestly, he has to be able to read minds or something.
“No, I don’t do this with all of my clients. I’m a man and I have needs. Needs that require protection sometimes.”
          You only nod, in awe of the fact that he knows what the fuck to always say. And just as quickly as he left from you, he’s back, lifting your dress and attempting to take it off of you.
“Can I see?” He asks, still tugging as he stands in front of you.
          Your pussy is aching, and you can feel the couch beneath you soaked through and probably leaving an embarrassingly large spot for you to cry about later because this fucking couch was expensive, but whatever. So is Jeno.
          Lifting your arms, he slips the dress off of you and instantly presses your breasts together as he stares at them. He doesn’t hesitate this time to snatch your bra off of you either, the second your bare nipples are perked up in front of him he’s got his mouth on one and the other being pinched between his fingers.
“Right here?” He mumbles around your nipple as he savors the quick moment of seeing you in full for probably the first and only time. “You want me to fuck you here?” He mumbles again, realizing that his question wasn’t clear in the first place.
          You don’t even care at this point, but, you’ve been sitting in this position for far too long and, more than anything, you want him to be the one looking up at you again. Just like when he started his second dance, crawling on the floor towards you and looking so small for such a cocky man.
“No.” you say, lacing your fingers into his hair and pushing his lips to your other nipple, just to feel the warmth of his tongue flicking against it.
“No?” He questions, sucking your nipple harshly and allowing it to pop from his lips as he looks at you. “Where, then?”
          You smile at him, finally sitting yourself up fully from the slouched, lazy position you were in. Your legs close as you stand to your feet in front of him, but he still dips his head to get his lips around your nipple again.
          Holding him there, your legs almost buckle at the way he slightly groans around it, sending vibrations through your chest and straight to your clit. You’re gentle when you shuffle forward, allowing him to continue his antics. Slowly but surely, you turn him around and back him up against the couch.
          Only now, when you push him back and his teeth graze against your perked-up nub in a sad release do you realize that he’s… needier than you expected. His brows are furrowed, not even paying attention to the fact that you’ve just shoved him onto the couch so you can straddle him, and it’s cute, actually. He was so intimidating when he came into your house, walking with confidence, dancing with intention, finger fucking you and choking you as if he had a right to do it. But now, looking at him, it felt good.
          As quickly as his brows furrowed in disappointment that your tit was no longer in his mouth, his brows lift right back up in relief when you plant yourself on his lap and grind against his cock.
          It’s the first slippery touch that he’s felt all night, and honestly, he’s been on edge this entire time. You grind against him so beautifully that for the first time, he’s completely speechless.
          “You’re really cute, I don’t think you realize that.” You comment, gliding against his cock and watching his hands reach out to grip your waist. “Really cute.”
          He doesn’t falter at all and instead melts into it. His cheeks are a different shade now as he leans forward to resume his antics from before. All you can do is grip his hair and let him. It’s been a long time since you’ve felt the head of a cock bumping against your clit, and you’ll never forgive yourself for not making more time for this.
          When his teeth begin to graze a bit harsher, and his hands start to push and pull you faster against him, you finally do it.
          Angling yourself perfectly, you slide forward, perk your ass out, and then pull him back by his hair to look at him. Already, the moment he opens his eyes and looks at you, he knows.
          He thrusts his hips up one time and feels the way your pussy grips around his cock with perfect aim. He slides in so fucking easily, so fast, that he’s almost seeing stars at how good it feels. He grunts heavily, feeling your grip on his hair tighten through your own overwhelming experience of being filled up.
          Both of you let out a long and breathy groan at the sensation, you couldn’t help it, you had to grip onto something and it wasn't intentionally his hair but god, he seemed to love it when you dio it. When you finally regain your senses, you pull at it again, tilting his head back so that you can see the expanse of his neck and the way it moves when he swallows hard.
“Move.” You say harshly, feeling the way his cock pulses in place inside of you, and at this point you want him to make good on what he thinks you can do. You can take his cock but can he handle your pussy? It’s looking bleak, but sometimes that’s more fun anyway.
          He whimpers when he squints his eyes at you, unable to fully open them as he loses himself to the feelings of euphoria and the pain of how harshly you’re holding his head back. Jeno didn’t think you could get any sexier, honestly, and as far as he’s concerned, if he moves right now, he’s going to cum. So, he doesn't. Instead, he smirks and lets his eyes close so that he can fall right back into the state of seeing nothing but stars.
          Frustrated, but incredibly turned on by the way you’ve completely lost him, you start to bounce. Each time your ass hits against his thighs, he moans, and each time you grind forward, dragging your clit into his abdomen, he tenses up for you, and it’s like he’s so here but not at the same time.
“Look how pathetic you are right now,” You whisper out, hearing the wet of your pussy echo through the long-forgotten music that’s playing. “You can’t even move.”
          All he does is nod his head at you with a lazy smile as if to insinuate ‘damn fucking right I can’t.’ He’s proud of it, but you’re not going to ignore the fact that his hands are still on your waist, gripping onto you so tightly that you fear he’s going to break his fingers.
“Keep going baby,” He somehow manages to say to you without a moan at all in his voice. “No one has ever fucked me like this,”
          There it is. This entire time he’s been begging to fuck you, at least that’s what you thought. His voice still sounds like honey and his cock feels impressively hard inside of you that you could probably feel him in your stomach if you were to press against it. He wants you to fuck him.
“Yeah?” You boast, feeling the power go to your head as you opt for grinding rather than bouncing. Your hips are erratic as he tenses up for you. You can feel your clit hitting perfectly each time and if you were to keep going, you could cum within seconds.
          You can’t even finish your thought when you look down at him. His eyes are squeezed shut and his mouth is open in a silent moan, you can see that he’s not able to take in a breath at all. You release his hair, watching the way he allows his head to fall against the cushions in what you can only assume is a pure euphoric high.
“Are you cumming right now?” You ask, out of breath.
          When he doesn’t respond and you feel his hips stutter under you despite remaining static since he’s gotten inside of you, you know that now is the time.
          You grind harshly, pressing your clit against him and rutting against his abdomen so that his cock is only slightly fucking into you while you chase your own high, but, alas, his fingers tighten on you.
          His eyes shoot open as the sensitivity hits him quicker than he would have liked, but you don’t stop. The pain is intense from how hard you’re going on top of him, but he can see you reach your high and the image alone lets him push through the sensitivity of his post-orgasm discomfort.
          Jeno seethes out praise to you as your walls squeeze against his softening cock. He studies your face, studies the way you try to close your legs around him despite being forced to stay open, and he thinks he might be a little too fond of the way your hands grip and squeeze his arms for leverage as you shake through the orgasm.
          It hurts, but it kind of hurts more when he knows it’s over. After all, it kind of feels like he’s been in this room for days. Surely, he’s stayed past his allotted time frame, and surely he’s given you something far more valuable than an expensive lap dance.
          When you slump over him, his cock is so fucking sensitive that he almost starts to tear up, but thankfully you were sensitive too it seems. You were gentle when you held the base of his cock, holding the condom in place as you allow him to slip out of you.
          The playlist comes to an abrupt end at just the wrong moment, because it forces Jeno to realize that he hadn’t stayed at all over his paid time frame, and now all he can hear is the way his breath is entirely too uneven to move and go home.
“You okay?” You ask, noting the silence and his struggle to breathe with you on top of him. He’s staring straight up at the ceiling, not blinking, face making no readable expression. “Hey, Jeno?” You ask again, tapping his cheek.
          He shakes himself out of it, eyes slowly moving over to look at you.
“That, um…” He tries to talk, genuinely, he does.
          The change in the atmosphere almost freaks out you, but you try to stay calm. You saw the way he lost himself there, despite it not at all being rough or incredibly kinky. You’re confused as to why he’s acting like this, and maybe you even feel a bit guilty.
          Without another word, you lift yourself onto your weak legs and stumble to find your dress. You throw it on so quickly, and it’s the only time you’ve ever felt the need to cover yourself so fast. Still silent, you head to your purse and grab every single hint of cash you have. Some two thousand or so.
          Just like that, you place the cash into Jeno’s hands as he comes back to himself.
“What’s this?” He asks, looking at the sheer amount of cash in his hand. It was kind of the last thing on his mind.
“Your tip.” You try to say casually, still doing your best to catch your breath. “You can shower too if you want.”
          Jeno nods, hoping to god that you don’t think he fucked you for money just now. No, he showed up for the money. Whatever happened after was because he wanted it, and he still does. Are you truly strictly business like this? You just handed him his rent for the month and then some, but for some reason it amazes him. As if he’s never been handed handsome sums of cash from drunken lonely women.
“Shower with me?” He asks suddenly, trying to lighten to mood from whatever the fuck just crept in through the silence.
          He feels comforted when you smile, nodding to him with a step forward.
~
Did Jeno end up spending the night free of charge? Yes. Did he try to have a serious talk with you in the early hours of the morning, about how this is not genuinely something he does? Absolutely.
Did you believe him? Surprisingly.
After the shower, the mood shifted into something that felt natural. He wasn’t just some stripper you could call over for a down payment of $600, he was Jeno, a man trying to make ends meet in a city too expensive for even you.
Wanted he was, by several women of course. You, on the other hand, feel the need to mend your lonely heart with him. Not to fall in love, nothing like that. If anything, you want to take care of him, and when he grimaced at your joke, calling him your “sugar baby”, he was quick to perk up when he realized you were being serious.
It was your turn to set the rules and, possibly, break them.
“Rule number one, come to me if you’re short on money. No, you don’t have to fuck me for it, but I’m sure you’d probably want to.”
He nodded happily.
“Rule number two, stop fucking your clients. If you need to fuck, come over. Just look pretty for them and come back to me, yeah?”
The way he nodded harder that time was a pleasant surprise.
“Rule number three.”
He gasps in a show of mock shock. “The forbidden rule–” He whispers, sinking further into your blankets with a laugh.
“If–” You pause, thinking hard about if you should even assume. You forego anyway, it’s a forbidden rule for a reason. “If either of us start to like, feel things, we have to actually communicate and see where we want to go from there.”
He nods again, a glint in his eye shining brighter than he realizes. This is the first time he’s slept at a client’s house, the first time a woman has ever gotten him so fucked up. You had him down bad. He thinks he should probably stop calling you a client as well. The short-lived title turning into something he always dreamed of, though he figured it wouldn’t have happened so quickly. Sugar Mommy.
2K notes · View notes
luvyeni · 5 months
Text
❛MY DOG ROOMMATE❜ ( l.jeno )
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p. hybrid!jeno x fem!reader w. 1.9k
warnings? unprotected sex, breeding kink, squirting, big cock jeno
— 𖦹 ( jeno can’t spend another heat with his mate ) !
freaktober masterlist
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jeno first figured out you were his mate the day you moved in – it wasn’t common for hybrids and humans to roommate , but you both were strapped for cash and needed help paying bills. the day you came through the doors , boxes in his hand he felt it , his need for you.
not wanting to scare you off , he decided to push it aside , but as time went on and you got closer , it was so hard for the hybrid to deny it , especially with his heats becoming stronger , you knew about his heats , but he’d often just lock himself in his room for a week , you weren’t aware that he’d be in there , wrapped up in pool of clothes he’d stolen from you , fucking his fist , wishing it was you , cumming over all your clothes with a whimper , his cock still hard and twitching against his stomach.
even though you didn’t know about the mate thing , you didn’t really help either – your constant touching , the scratches behind his ear randomly which sent him into overdrive , you were also extremely caring , buying him things , making his food , packing him lunch for work , make sure he had his protein shakes after working out – you were practically his acting as his mate already.
“good morning jeno.” he was met with your beautiful smile. “good morning.” he sat down , immediately being bombarded with your sent , it was much stronger – way stronger than ever before. “did you go to the gym today?” he questioned , your eyes widened , it always shocked you when he would guess. “i just got back , i heard you moving around in your room , so i got your breakfast and protein shake ready before my shower , i know you normally eat all this after the gym , but i’ll be out with a friend when you get back so i wanted to make sure you’d have it.” you said.
there it is again , the pulling at his heart – it was even more painful than before , he hissed grabbing his chest. “you okay jen?” you questioned. “just some chest pains , i’m okay.” you ignored his answer , walking over to him , your scent even stronger. “fuck.” he whispered , something was definitely wrong , this was a different type of pain. “jeno , hey.” you snapped him out of his thoughts. “huh?”
you put your hand up to his head , his body immediately calming down due to your touch. “you’re a bit warm , maybe you shouldn’t go to the gym , i’ll call my friends and tell them i can’t make it.” he stopped you , grabbing your hand. “no , it’s fine.” he said. “told you just a bit of chest pain , i’m fine now , go have fun with your friend.” you nodded. “well take it easy at the gym , don’t over do it.” you warned. “okay mom.” you chuckled. “good boy , i’ll go shower now.” you reached up , scratching behind his ears , before walking back to your room , he bit his fist to cover up the painful moan that left his lips
he couldn’t focus on his workout , the pain in his chest getting worse and worse – to the point where he’d almost dropped a weight on his foot. he ended up coming back to a empty house , you must’ve left out already , the food sitting covered on the stove , his protein shake sitting in the fridge with a cute little note that made him smile.
he decided to shower , not having anything else planned , he made his way to his bathroom , opening the door , your soap still lingering in the air – it wasn’t uncommon for you to use his shower , your hot water never working. the pain coming back in his chest , he groaned , leaning over the sink. “fuck.” he picked up his phone , dialing jaemin , his friend who was another hybrids number. “yo wassup jeno.” the boy shouted into the phone , jeno hissed in pain , his scenes heightening , the boys voice ringing through his head. “bro , you okay?”
“no , i’m in so much fucking pain right now.” he growled. “what kind of pain?” jaemin asked. “a pain in my -fuck- in my chest.” he said. “it hurts so fucking bad , it feels like i’m dying.” he slammed his hands on the sink. “bro , you’re going into a early rut.” jaemin said. “what , that can’t happen.” he said , jeno was growing frustrated. “it can when you have a mate , but it’s not a good thing.”
“why?” he said , jaemin explained to him , “because combined with the chest pains , that means you mating bond is being rejected , if you don’t do something , you’re slowly gonna descend into madness , and that won’t be safe for you or your roommate.” he hung up on jaemin , making his way back to his bed , throwing his body on to the bed , his thumb hovering over your number.
you could barely focus on the guy in front of you , your mind was stuck on jeno , he did not look so well before you left , you should’ve made him some soup before you left. “everyone okay?” soobin , the sweet boy in front of you asked. “yeah i’m-.” you were cut off my your phone ringing. “just a second , i’m sorry.” you read the number , it was jeno , he never called when you were out. “you have to answer that?”
you smiled apologetic , before answering the call. “jen?” it was silent. “are you okay , what’s wrong?” you heard a groan , a painful one at that. “i-i c-can’t.” you stood up worried. “hey , i’m coming home now.” you turned to soobin. “something is wrong , i have to go.” he nodded , understandingly, you grabbed your things , giving the boy a quick hug and another apology before almost running out the restaurant. “i’m coming now , just holding on.”
the ride home was torturous , worry filling your body as you asked the taxi driver to speed up – getting on the elevator , making your way to your floor. you opened the door , making your way to jeno’s room. “jeno.” you knocked on his door , his groans made you push the door open , where he laid against his headboard shirtless. “oh my god.” you ran over to his bed , sitting down.
he was sickly pain , skin all sweaty like he had just been working out. “my god jeno.” your hand came up to feel his forehead. “you’re burning up.” you gasped , he wrapped his hand around your wrist , pulling you close to his body , sniffing. “j-jeno.” you stuttered. “why do you smell like that?” his voice deep. “why do you smell like a guy?” you furrowed your eye brows. “jeno that’s not import- why do you smell like a fucking guy (y/n)?”
“i told you i was going out with a friend.” you said , holding yourself back hand on his chest. “that’s why it’s rejecting , you were out with another guy.” you were confused. “rejecting? jeno what are you talking about , you aren’t well.” you said. “because of you , i’m not well because of you , i’m at home in pain while my mate it out with another guy.” he scoffed.
mate? you’d done research on hybrids and mates and stuff when jeno moved in , just to be prepared , but you only thought hybrids mate with other hybrids. “jeno , how was i supposed to know , you didn’t tell me anything.” your hand came up to scratch behind his ear , he grabbed your wrist , pulling you down , flipping your body over , hovering over you. “mine.”
he pressed his lips against yours , grinding his hard cock against yours. “his scent is all over you.” he groaned against your neck. “he touched what was mine.” his sharp teeth scrapping against your neck. “je-jeno.” you moaned. “gonna mark your pretty skin , let everyone know you’re fucking mine.” you yelped as he sunk his teeth into you. “fu-fuck!”
he sat back on his knees , yanking the front of your dress down , your tits spilling out , jeno was salivating , taking one of your boobs into his mouth sucking while squeezing the other one , rocking his cock against your heat. “sh-shit jeno.” you moaned. “jeno i’m gonna cum.” he bucked his hips against you , the fabric of his gym shorts rubbing against his cock , his tail wagging side to side in excitement as dry humped you. “jeno!”
you came , your panties sticking to you. “fuck i’m gonna cum , gonna fucking cum in my shorts , ngh fuck!” he groaned , his cock twitching as he came , messing up his underwear. this didn’t nothing his cock was still hard , he needed more. “need to fuck you , stuff your cunt full of my cock.”
you moaned at his lewd words , whining. “pl-please fuck me.” he practically ripped your panties off , pulling his cock out from his shorts , he was above average , and really thick – his tip red , cum still dripping from his hole. “y-you’re so big.” your eyes widened. “might not fit.” he spread your cunt , rubbing his cock against your clenching hole. “fuck , then i’ll make it fit.”he pushed it thick tip in. “sh-shit.” he pushed his cock in. “tiny fucking pussy , my cock can barely fit.”
you screamed in pain and pleasure as he slowly bullied his cock into you. “w-wait jeno.” you moaned , your legs shaking as you came for a second time. “f-fuck.” he finally pushed himself fully inside you. “you came just from taking my cock.” he groaned , thrusting.
“shit , such a warm fucking cunt.” he grunted. “had to spend all these ruts alone.” held your waist , fucking into you. “fucking my fist to your scent , while you were only feet away , could’ve filled this pussy with my pups a long time ago.” you couldn’t speak , your brain completely shut off , only thing on your mind was jeno. “pl-please.” you moaned.
“is that what you want?” he wrapped his hands around your throat. “fuck you full of my pups , fill your tiny pussy until your stomach is bulging from my cum.” he pressed down on your stomach , you screamed. “that’s my cock , gonna fill your womb with my cum , make you take my knot.” he grunted , his thrust becoming sloppy. “je-jeno i’m gonna cum again!”
he slapped your cunt , you yelped. “go ahead cum.” your back arched off the bed , cumming – coating his abdomen with your juices. “that’s it , squirt for me , gonna fuck you full of my kids.” he stilled himself inside you. “shit.” he groaned , his cock swelling as he empty his cum inside of you – you were shaking as his cum leaked out around his cock. “sh-shit , too much!” he kissed your lips. “just a bit more , just hold on.” he came a lot, his cock finally softening , but not fully. “sh-shit i’m still hard.”
“c-can’t take anymore.” you whimpered. “it’s okay baby.” he rubbed your waist. “i’ll let you rest now.” he slowly pulling out of your spent cunt.
“we still have all week for me to fuck you
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©LUVYENI
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haespoir · 7 months
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texts w/ bf!jeno
this has been requested a lot hehe… enjoy 🫶
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taglist: @ljnono
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doiesfav · 6 months
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bf! jeno texts・.。.:*☆
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''Boyfriend Jeno''
Requested: ❌
Content: suggestive content
a/n: another text!! Sorry if your requests aren't posting but I'm trying my best to let this account live so yea😭. Love you guys remember would appreciate reblogs or follows!
MDNI!!
TEXTS MASTERLIST FICS MASTERLIST
-ˏ͛�� ‧̥̥͙‧̥̥ ̥ ̮ ̥ ⊹ ‧̫‧ ⊹ ̥ ̮ ̥ ‧̥̥‧̥̥͙ ⑅ˏ͛-
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-ˏ͛⑅ ‧̥̥͙‧̥̥ ̥ ̮ ̥ ⊹ ‧̫‧ ⊹ ̥ ̮ ̥ ‧̥̥‧̥̥͙ ⑅ˏ͛-
remember requests are open!!
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philosuhfi · 2 months
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⋆⋅✦⋅⋆ [1:32 PM].
pairing: jeno lee x reader | word count: 270 | genre: (m.)
synopsis: y/n has a thing for jeno’s arms….
back to masterlist.
it was a lazy sunday afternoon. you and jeno were in your bedroom watching a netflix show that was playing on the tv. jeno had one arm around your waist while you were lying your back against his chest. however, your eyes couldn’t focus on the show but trailed downwards to the veins bulging along his arm instead.
jeno didn’t take notice of this or he would have teased you about it already.
the next thing you did caught jeno completely off guard. you suddenly grabbed his arm and wrapped it around your neck like a scarf in an attempt to form a headlock.
“babe what are you doing”
“headlock” you replied while slightly struggling to keep his arm around you as he made no intention of keeping it up. giving up, you dropped his arm with a huff.
“why” he said in amusement
you looked up at him with a smile. “i think your arms look better around my neck”
his eyes widened in surprise and he laughed.
“you’re so cute”
“no jen you don’t understand”
“what, if i do this?” he gave you a headlock, releasing a small gasp from you as your eyes go wide in shock
he chuckled, “i bet you’d like it even more if i did this hm?” he tightened his grip around your neck, giving you this oddly new form of pleasure around your body.
you tried your best to not moan and embarrass yourself even more but the squirming against his bulge didn’t help.
“oh baby you’re so dirty”
oh boy, now he’s going to make fun of you for liking this.
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dojunie · 3 months
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MISDIAL; LJN [CH4] PICK UP THE PHONE!
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[★]; [MISDIAL MASTERLIST] [PREVIOUS PART] [NEXT PART]
info;
lee jeno x fem!reader
college au
chaptered
very slow burn
genre; not-quite-friends to lovers, older brother mark lee, brothers best friend lee jeno, light angst, yn is a menace to society, story/character driven
warnings for this chapter; none
chapter wc: 9.5k / comment on this post for taglist!
taglist: @hibernatinghamster @jenoxygen @eaglesnotravens @donutswithjaminthemiddle @jvjsssnaa @huangrenhyucks @luvenshiti @shiningdery @jaeminsbebu @aliceinwhateverland @bebsky@gem-gem @jkjkseo @jenosbliss @pewpewpwe00 @ti--red @philanarose @softbbyg0rl @aaasteroidsky @carelessshootanonymous @en-boyz @jlsavyy @roseymerrie @bangchanisemo @skuezk @jaehyuns-adorable-dimples @ourbeautifulaffair@jeonnyread @jvjsssnaa @episkeyjeno @bockhyun @jenojammin @zarastrawberry @peachie-bear @itadaramaterasu @alymii @cuteejeno @episkeyjeno @nohunlee @ooojisoo @luv4jeno @not-clemb @jydivrs @maeyoung @axmdocs @nctzennikki09 @pinkysinnerbaby
unable to tag: @jenojenoyes
[a/n]: merry early christy mass
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.
.
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“SO. ARE WE GOING TO TALK ABOUT IT?”
It’s 7:38AM, and Jeno has finally driven for long enough that the Palisades building is no longer looming in his rearview mirror. In a perfect world he’d be heading back to his apartment right now to sleep away the next twelve hours of his life— but Jeno’s life has not been perfect since you moved back to Seoul, and he knows even before Donghyuck finishes speaking that the following conversation is going to be unbearable.
The man in the backseat slurps obnoxiously from the thermos he’s got at his lips. “Frankly, I’m a little suspicious that we’re not already talking about it. Because there is like… no chance neither of you have anything to say about all of that.”
“All of what,” Jaemin asks, nonplussed. “Your sudden closeness with little Jeon?”
Donghyuck scoffs, taking another loud sip from the borrowed bedazzled cup. The contents held within is fresh brewed coffee courtesy of the small Starbucks Jeon Somi’s has on her kitchen counter, and he’s practically perched on top of the center console because he’s leaning so far forward. “No, prick. Don’t even start. All of that being last fucking night. You know,” he prods very pointedly, “At Wooyoung’s?”
For a split second, Jeno’s mind goes completely elsewhere. Wooyoung’s. The guy was more Jaemin’s friend than his but he’d been invited to the party anyway, initially with a polite promise to swing by for an hour or two before clearing out to avoid the storm rolling in. Then, a few hours later at Mark’s place, you. Wandering into the apartment none the wiser to his presence, squinting into the depths of your phone; and the only thing Jeno can remember from the seconds before you looked up and shut him out again was wondering how the hell he didn’t notice how much you’d changed. 
If he was being honest, it's something that's been bothering him since that night at Nabi Bar. Because you’d always been cute. Ask anybody with eyes. In highschool you were cute enough that sometimes Jeno didn’t quite understand why no one else seemed to be thinking about it as much as he was. Everything you did made him want to pick you up and shake you like a dog with a new toy. But somewhere along the lines, this…shifted. 
“What about Wooyoung’s?” Jaemin sighs. “We were there for like, four hours. You’re going to have to be more—”
“You and Y/N,” Donghyuck says unrepentantly, striking right to the heart of his curiosity. “Mark’s birthday up in the woods, the lake house, whatever the fuck happened there. Her truth or drink question. To be specific.”
Jeno isn’t the best at understanding his own feelings, and he’ll admit that easily. So if he’s being serious about when he first realized something had shifted, when he noticed that something was undeniably different about you— he’d, coincidentally, also have to point a finger towards the weekend they all spent at the lake house. It was the first time he’d properly seen you in nearly a year. He’d shown up at Mark’s parents house with the van full of guys and hung out downstairs in the same living room he used to spend every afternoon in before college came and whisked them all away, and waited for you and your brother to come down.
And he’s not proud of this, but. Well.
Well, when you did eventually reveal yourself, finding his eyes amongst the crowd of his friends perking up at your arrival… he’d been expecting a bigger reaction. 
He’d been working out more, is all. And he’d grown his hair out for the first time since he was a little kid, and had finally grown accustomed to the pokey, itchy world of contacts. He looked different. He felt different. He’d just finished his first year of college and was definitely feeling a little too cool about it. And in high school you used to look at him like he had done something great for just simply existing— so he’d been ready for you to all but drop when you saw him now— but you’d run your gaze over Jeno for what felt like half a second before turning to Renjun, smiling widely at this new guy like you’d been waiting to meet him and only him. 
And he remembers being… confused.
That had been the first clue that something about you (or, maybe, something about him) had changed.
“Na Jaemin. You are absolutely not going to sit here and not explain what the hell she was talking about.”
“It was over a year ago,” Jaemin says. The uneasy beat that followed Donghyuck’s question was nothing to be envied, but Jeno wholeheartedly preferred the silence over actually listening to this conversation. “And you heard her. There’s nothing to explain. She was getting over someone, I was getting over someone, and like most stupid teenagers do, we did the only thing that came to mind—”
“Okay but you understand that she’s not like most stupid teenagers, right? You hooked up with Mark’s little sister. On his birthday. At his birthday party. Did you have a death wish? Why are you both acting like this isn’t breaking goddamn news?”
“Because it isn’t news,” Jaemin replies sharply. “For a myriad of reasons. Can you not phrase it like I was trying to seduce the Virgin Mary?”
“I’m not phrasing it like anything! I just… I mean, you’re not seriously going to pretend like this isn’t absolutely insane, right? It’s hard to imagine—”
“What about two people hooking up is so insane to you?”
Donghyuck seems flabbergasted by this. “Jaemin. Everything. Everything about it is insane. Because it’s not just two people ‘hooking up’. Of all the people on earth you could have— and trust me, the number of options you have is high, I’ve heard some of the shit the girls on campus say about you— you chose her? The single person on this earth that Mark would flay you alive for even—”
Jaemin snaps his eyes to the rearview mirror, and Donghyuck’s words cut short. “Is Y/N a human being to you?”
A stunned second passes.
“Or is she just some attachment to Mark, some little doll with no will of her own? You realize that this is why she hates being around us so much, right? Why she’s never around in her own fucking apartment? Did you even notice that you’ve only ever said her name once in this whole conversation? Do you know what you’ve been calling her?”
Jaemin’s question hangs in the air like a physical weight. Mark’s little sister. It hits Jeno like a punch; his hand tightens around the steering wheel with immediate guilt. Guilt for not even noticing how interchangeably they’d all been using the words in the first place and, much deeper down, knowing that even if Jaemin wasn’t talking to him, Jeno was definitely the worst culprit in the vein of only seeing you as an extension of your brother. 
That’s basically what you’d told him on the balcony before you left and took half of his spirit with you. 
“That’s not what I meant,” Donghyuck says, sufficiently chided. All the gossip-seeking enthusiasm has drained from his voice. Now he just sounds sorry. “You know that’s not what I meant. That’s not how any of us see her.”
“I know that,” Jaemin says quietly, returning his gaze to the window. “She doesn’t.”
They ride in silence for almost a whole block before Jaemin sighs. 
“She found me after I got off the phone with Jurin for the last time,” he supplies, unable to ignore Donghyuck’s scolded pouting. “Sometime while you guys were off getting wood for the campfire.” 
Perking up a little in the backseat, Donghyuck tentatively asks, “At… At the lake house?” 
And, having foolishly assumed the reprimand would've ended this conversation, Jeno almost wants to slam his head against the headrest when Jaemin nods and he realizes they're not done talking about you. He feels raw; sensitive and uncomfortable and combative. It's residual from what just happened with you, he knows that, and he also knows saying something will probably just draw attention he does not want, but he still can't help but blurt; “Do you really need to hear the details, man?” 
He’s not sure who he surprises more by the edge in his voice: himself or the other two. Both turn to look at Jeno like he’s just magically appeared in the vehicle.
Donghyuck is so caught off guard by the distaste that he actually rocks back a little bit in his seat.
“I’m not asking for those kinds of details!” he exclaims, scandalized. “I just want to know how it went down beforehand, because as far as I remember, they were the perfect picture of normalcy on that trip! Jaemin was a little sulkier than normal because of the whole girlfriend-breaking-up-with-him thing, but he perked up after, like…”
Donghyuck trails off. Then after a very long second he gasps, sounding almost appalled, forgetting Jeno again immediately.
“When we came back from camping because it started raining, you were like a totally different person. It was then, wasn’t it? You and her stayed back. I remember being worried that you were going to bore her to death if she ever came out of her room. Holy shit, dude, don’t tell me you guys planned—”
Jaemin whirls around. “Do you think I’m completely crazy?”
“Well how am I supposed to know, when you won’t tell us anything?!”
“You really want to know so badly?” Jaemin says, fed up. No, Jeno thinks uselessly.
“Earlier in the afternoon Y/N heard me on the phone with Jurin and figured something was wrong. She came over to talk to me about it and I found out that she was having guy problems of her own, so we tried to make each other feel better— Verbally," Jaemin tells, pointedly adding the last word when Donghyuck's eyebrows jump in scandal. "The next time I saw her was when you guys left to go camping and we stayed back. I was watching a movie in the living room and she asked if she could join me because she couldn’t sleep, and— And after that you can put two and two together. That’s it.”
“Prude,” Donghyuck mutters. When Jaemin shoots him another look in the mirror though, he’s the perfect picture of innocence. “—Is what I would have said, if you were talking about any other girl, ha ha. Anyway! Did you guys kiss?”
Jeno's arms tense up so quickly that he almost swerves into oncoming traffic. Hyuck nearly topples out of his seat.
“Fucking hell—! Hey! You’ve got precious cargo back here, jackass!”
“Pothole,” Jeno bites. 
He’s lying through his teeth. But it’s the only thing he could think of. There’s no such thing as a pothole out here— they’re in Gangnam, on a main goddamn road, but he can almost feel Jaemin’s eyes on the side of his face, so keeps his eyes sharply forward despite the fact that his ears are no doubt already starting to flush pink from discomfort.
“I’m not telling you that,” Jaemin replies after a second. “Voyeur.”
“What? What type of sense does that make? You two literally fucked on our communal couch, but asking about a kiss is too—”
Even if it feels like every nerve instantly lights ablaze under his skin from this comment, Jeno is much better about controlling his expression this time around. It probably wouldn’t have mattered because in the moment after the words left Donghyuck’s mouth Jaemin whirled around in his seat to pinch him, a sharp grab at his thigh that had the boy yowling in surprise— and then immediately thereafter, agony, because Jaemin’s strength is nothing to sneeze at. 
“Listen to me very carefully,” Jaemin hisses. “Not a word of this is leaving this car. Do you understand me, Lee Donghyuck? If you tell anybody—”
“Okay, okay!” Donghyuck cries out. “Fuck, do you have razors under your nails?! I think I’m bleeding!”
“I’m serious,” Jaemin continues darkly. “You can laugh about it all you want, but we all know exactly how Mark is going to react if he finds out and I am not interested in playing the odds on whether he ends my life via strangulation or vicious beating. Keep your mouth shut.”
Donghyuck is still muttering to himself, rubbing bitterly at the spot where Jaemin sniped him.
He’s thinking of ways to reassure Jaemin, probably. Or maybe that’s just what Jeno hopes he’s doing, because a younger him could have used some reassurance that Mark possibly wouldn’t have tried to kill him where he stood if, back in highschool, he’d ignored your brother's wishes entirely and actually told you how he felt. 
But Donghyuck simply says, “Remember when we all watched him punch that watermelon in half during spirit week? Back in our senior year, when they were still finding chunks of it a week later in, like, the ceiling rafters and shit? I think my money is on him beating you to death if he finds out you slept with his sister.”
And on that very positive note, Jeno flicks his turn signal on and coasts into the lane that’ll take him right back to SNU.
It’s four days later, Jeno hasn’t seen you once in that span of time, and he’s beginning to think it’s driving him a little insane, because he’s been staring pathetically at a photo of you on Mark’s fridge for the last five minutes. You’re mid-laugh and you’ve got one arm tight around Mark’s neck— you’re both on the beach, jeans rolled up to your knees, and your hair is a startling, bright red.
Back in highschool, when you were a junior and he was a senior, you’d had a short lived obsession with dying your hair. Mark had mentioned it to him in passing, recalling the half a dozen conversations he’d witnessed of you trying to convince your parents to let you bleach it, but he hadn’t really thought about it too seriously until he was over at Mark’s house to work on a project a few weeks later. Your brother, who’s brain stopped working properly when he was hungry, tapped out after about fifteen minutes to hit the convenience store a few blocks away for a pint of ice cream and a few energy drinks. 
It was only after the front door slammed shut that Jeno even realized you were home; he was slouched in Mark’s desk chair scrolling listlessly through his phone when he heard the bedroom door creak open, and turned around expecting your brother. It was not your brother.
It was you. Standing in the doorway like a deer caught in headlights as your eyes met, dressed in a pair of pajama shorts and a tank top, hair slicked down to your head with cherry red dye— it was all over your hands, splattered down your neck, an artful blob on the tip of your nose.
The two of you stared at each other for what felt like minutes. He hadn’t seen you this close for a few weeks now, since this was around the time that you’d started hanging out with your friends more and were rarely ever home. That was what he blamed for the way his brain seemed to start buffering at the sight of you.
“Are you okay?” he finally asked.
You stood up straight and hid your hands behind your back like he hadn’t already seen them in all their bloody glory, and said, “I thought you… Left. Just now. With Mark.”
“I didn’t,” he replied. You stared at each other some more. Then, because he wasn’t quite sure what else to do and he’s never really been good at reading a room, he said,“You missed a bit, there. On the top.”
You stiffened, and then your whole body slumped like he’d cut your strings with those eight words alone. “I know. Mark has a little mirror in here somewhere that I was going to steal while he was gone, because I didn’t realize until it was too late that I couldn't see the back of my own head.”
And somehow this ended up with Jeno standing behind you in your bathroom, dutifully brushing red goo into your scalp as you fidgeted and twitched and tried to pretend you weren’t staring at him in the mirror, even though it was very obvious that you were. Jeno pretended, like he’d been doing for the last three years, that he didn’t notice— even if he was finding it a little harder than normal to not stare right back.
Back then, he chalked up his jitters to all of the physical things that were happening in that moment. He credited his desire to stand a little closer to you than necessary to the pleasant scent of cherry coming from the dye in your hair, and blamed the uneven straps on your tank top for the reason his eyes kept drifting to the curve of your shoulders. He was hyper-focusing on the tiny beauty mark below your ear not because he found it fascinating, but because it was easier to keep his eyes trained on that than to risk forgetting what he was doing and finding your eyes in the mirror.
When the dye ran out and your head was sufficiently gooped, he’d been gearing up to ask if you needed help washing it out too, when the sound of the garage door opening whispered through the house and you stiffened. In an instant you were plucking the empty dye bowl from his hands and then herding him out of your bathroom— startled, he turned around to mention his sweater, only to find it flying at his chest with enough force to knock him back against the hallway wall. Your eyes were huge as you stood in the bathroom doorway, hand already on the door as if already positioning to slam it shut.
“Don’t tell Mark you helped me,” you said quickly, before blinking very hard a few times, “And— Thank you? This probably would have turned out like shit if you didn’t offer to help me. Thanks.”
Downstairs, the front door opened. Jeno stood there with his balled up sweatshirt in his hands suddenly feeling very odd. Only later did he realize that feeling was hesitance. He didn’t want to go yet. “Why can’t I tell him?” he asked.
“Because Mark’s going to freak out when he sees me, and I don’t want him to get mad at you too for, like, being an accessory to my crime.”
“An accessory to your what?”
“Oh,” you said belatedly. Then you raised your eyebrows at him, lip quirking into an innocent smile that felt like anything but, and his stomach twisted. “Might’ve said too much.”
Your brother's voice rang up the stairs and Jeno made the mistake of turning towards the landing. By the time he turned back to you, mouth opening to speak— even though he wasn’t even sure what he was planning to say— he only caught the last glimpse of your red stained hand through the shutting the door.
Mark returned a few moments later to find Jeno sitting back in the desk chair, back to peering into his phone, but what he probably didn’t notice was that Jeno was really staring at the little, cherry colored splotch on his palm.
Back then he hadn’t known yet, just what he was feeling. He didn’t put two and two together to realize why whenever he’d see the color red in the corner of his eye at school after that, he’d turn around in the middle of a conversation to see if you were passing by; why, when the school strong-armed you into dying it back to its natural color a few days later, the missing cherry red had bothered him more than he could justify. It took him another few months to really get it.
“No-Jam! Dude, did you get lost in there or something? The cola is in the little—The bin thing! In the back!”
Mark’s voice pitches over the rest of his friends' muffled bickering and right through the memory he’s sunk into, and he tears his eyes away from the fridge to remember who he is and what he’s supposed to be doing right now. 
It’s movie night. He’s been put in charge of drinks now that the take-out has arrived, and yet he’s malingering in the kitchen like some kind of sad voyeur. Right. 
He snatches the cans and shuts the door a little harder than necessary, if only to get away from that photo of you faster. The conversation he returns to isn’t much different than the one he’d left; initially it was Chucky versus Annabelle, now when he sits the rack of soda on the coffee table and sinks back down between Jaemin and Jisung, it’s Jason versus Michael. Hyuck is ripping his hair out trying to explain that Michael is a borderline mutant and therefore obviously the winner in this bracket, and per usual, Chenle is completely unbothered and arguing the opposite solely to raise their friend’s blood pressure.
This would usually be Jeno’s pre-movie entertainment, chiming in with the occasional fact check to keep the sides even, but tonight he can’t focus on their debate. Instead, his eyes drift towards the clock on Mark’s TV stand. 
7:06. He frowns. 
“Where is Little Lee, by the way? Out getting into trouble?”
It’s embarrassing how quickly Jeno snaps back to attention at the sound of your nickname.
Mark shrugs in response, completely unbothered, even though Jeno is almost boring holes into the side of Mark’s head waiting for an answer to Renjun's question. “She’s at dance practice. Been at it all week for her showcase, and it goes real late. She should be back in about an hour if you’re looking for her.”
“Not looking,” Renjun says, “Only noticed she hasn’t been around. What showcase?”
“Goodness,” Jaemin coos. “My hard worker. Saw her this morning on my way to chem, looked a little like death, eyes all dark and broody. I guess that's why?”
“She leaves in the morning before I do, too. Probably dead tired.”
Mark tries to return to scrolling through Netflix’s catalog but Renjun, not satiated, flaps his hand in front of his face. “Wait, but what showcase, though? I didn’t even know anything was coming up. The school is hosting something?”
“Not the school,” Jisung offers instead. He sounds oddly eager to talk about it, and for a second Jeno is rattled by the idea of Jisung paying enough attention to you to know the intricacies of your schedule, until he realizes it’s the topic he’s excited about. “It’s this thing called the Aegon Showcase, a big competition for unknown hip-hop dancers. It’s a nationwide thing so it’s broken up into different showcases in every province, and there technically aren’t supposed to be favorites, because talent is like, everywhere, but pretty much everyone knows that the Seoul competition is the most popular. It’s pretty difficult to get chosen for Seoul, and yet Y/N’s team got in. They even air it on TV.”
Chenle whistles. “I knew about the competition, but I didn’t know all that. That sounds like a big deal.”
He remembers how sheepish you’d been when Somi told them in his car; the awfully shy look he’d caught on your face when your eye met in the mirror. 
“It is a big deal!” Jisung declares, sounding proud. “Yonsei hasn’t been on the roster since 2016, so the guys in my hip-hop class are pretty excited about it. There’s posters up in all the hallways of the performance building and noona’s name is all over them. Jeongsob nearly knocked my head off when he found out I had a ticket to see it live, and I didn’t even tell him it was center house because I thought he’d really hit me.”
“A ticket?” Renjun’s spine straightens indignantly. “From where? When was this an option? I want to go!”
Jisung’s shrug is interrupted by the loud smack of Donghyuck’s mouth as he swallows a swig of his soda. “This is how I know you don’t read my messages.”
“What?”
“I sent you the ticket, loser. I sent everyone the ticket like, a week ago.”
“Where the hell did you get them?”
A beat of silence as Donghyuck stares at him, before he realizes Renjun is serious and begins to whine. “So you don’t read my messages or listen to me. Somi. Jeon Somi! Rockstar’s little blonde bestie pulled some strings and gave us all tickets. Gave the rest of us tickets, should I specify, since Y/N-ie doesn’t love us and only got one for Mark.” 
The Mark in question only hums proudly. 
“Right up in front,” Donghyuck continues. “All she’d tell me is that they’re opening with DNA.”
“By BTS?”
Chenle scoffs. “By Kendrick Lamar. My God. Listen to something other than Seoul Top 50.”
“Their tracklist must be stacked if they’re opening with Lamar,” Jisung adds, awed.
Jeno has never really seen you dance before. It’s something he’s always known about you, sure, but only through word of mouth; He knew you started dancing because of Mark, since your brother has been telling the story to anyone who would listen for half a decade. How you were dragged along to his lesson one day, bitter about missing out on an afternoon of Guitar Hero for some ‘lousy physical activity’, when the dance teacher happened to notice how quickly you’d been picking up on the moves. She convinced you to come to another, and then another, until you ended up attending those classes more often than Mark did.
Those lessons had been before you and Mark transferred to their school though. Mark dropped dance to pick up basketball, which meant Jeno didn’t hear much about it from him, and while you kept up with it, it wasn’t like the two of you were close enough to talk about things like that. 
So it simply stayed a fun-fact. A topic only brought up in passing, like Mark randomly mentioning a competition you had one weekend, or apologizing for being late because he had to pick you up from a lesson across town.
A topic only brought up in passing until the next words that fall out of your brother's mouth.
“That’s the type of music she dances to all the time though,” Mark says belatedly. “Kendrick Lamar I mean. She has like, four or five videos on Youtube from that album alone. It was her favorite for a while.”
“She has videos on youtube?” Jeno blurts. 
The world pauses. Or it feels that way to him, since he hadn’t even registered the ending of Mark’s sentence before his own mouth was opening without his permission. It’s the first words he’s spoken in nearly half an hour and it shows in how they all glance at him, varying from brief confusion to clear interest in his sudden curiosity— and he instantly wants to kick himself considering that the latter comes from Jaemin, who’s already suspicious that he’s hiding something.
Mark furrows his eyebrows, staring back at Jeno like your presence on youtube is just supposed to be common knowledge. 
“I never told you guys? Freshman year of highschool, she had this channel she’d upload all her dance class videos to. Mostly just for progress, to see how she improved, but I guess they must’ve hit some weird algorithm or something because the videos actually ended up doing super well.”
“Rockstar is famous?” Jaemin asks.
Mark scratches his chin. “Subjectively, I guess so. I meant doing well as in like, a dozen of the videos have broken a hundred thousand views, but subscriber wise she’s not—”
Donghyuck chokes so violently on his cola that it sounds like he’s being waterboarded. Instinctually Jisung starts to pat his back, but even he looks surprised; not that Jeno is confused by why. A hundred thousand? 
The second that Donghyuck is able to form words again he all but demands Mark pull up her channel on the TV, which is when he finally seems to realize the predicament he’s put you in. All of your older brothers' friends. Watching your old highschool videos. Without your knowledge. Any little sister’s waking nightmare.
Mark tries to backtrack; ‘Ah, well, the whole reason she stopped uploading was because she got embarrassed about all the attention. She’d seriously kill me if she knew I showed you guys.’  But Hyuck only grins. ‘You damned yourself to that the second you mentioned it at all, tiger. You know I’ll just find it on my own if you don't, right? I’ve got resources!’
Doubtful. Donghyuck can’t even find files on his own computer, much less sift through the entire internet for a few six year old videos from a person that’s no longer uploading. Even though Mark doesn’t look fully convinced, glancing warily between his phone and the clock like he’s worried you’ll walk through the door the second he picks up the remote, Jeno knows he’ll fold. He always does.
We shouldn’t, he could say to help. Y/N wouldn’t like it. You know she wouldn’t. 
He would’ve a month ago. Maybe even a week ago. 
But right now he’s mortifyingly desperate to see you again, even if it’s only through the glass of a screen. So he does nothing but swallow his shame when Mark sighs, “One video. One! And if she finds out, dude, I’m telling her it was you!” and snatches the remote from the coffee table. He does nothing when Mark scrolls through the seemingly endless list of people he’s subscribed to, and he continues to do nothing when you blip to life on the television, Xx_SGirl2002_xX’s youtube channel.
Mark presses play on the first video there is, the last thing ever uploaded to your account— a three-minute clip titled ‘Kiss Kiss - Chris Brown, (J’HO’s ADV class)’ with ninety-eight thousand views. 
Jeno knows it’s 2016 from the date in the description but for some reason he’s still startled by how young you are here. This is how you looked when he met you, and its a whiplash he isn't prepared for. Fourteen years old with a glare that could cut down grown men. You have on a baseball cap that Jeno recognizes because it actually belongs to Mark, and an oversized t-shirt over a pair of green sweatpants (that Jeno also recognizes, because you wore them around your house all the time in high school)— but there’s no time to get into the intricacies of your outfit because soon enough the beat kicks in and Donghyuck is squealing like this is his favorite song.
You’re dancing with four others who look just as confident as you, bouncing on their feet before the choreo starts, but it immediately becomes clear why you’re in the front. Your movement is so natural that Jeno would’ve thought you were freestyling if it wasn’t for the others you’re on beat with, easily capturing the center of attention with your style— though he knows you’re not intending to. 
That’s how you’ve always been. The brightest person in the room, without even realizing it.
It’s not as surprising as he expects it to be. Despite never having seen you attempt to dance in front of him in your life, he’d somehow always known you were going to be this good. It’s familiarity probably that keeps his eyes on you, even when the videos go on and on and on and new dancers filter in and out of the choreographies. He’s only made aware of how blatantly he’s ignoring everyone else in your videos when Jisung excitedly points out that he recognizes one guy you’re dancing with, some famous popper in the hip-hop circuit, and Jeno has to drag his eyes away from you to even realize you’re dancing with a man in the first place. 
Too engrossed in showing you off now to remember why he’d been so hesitant in the first place, Mark, obviously, fails to stick to his word. They’re on video four or five when there’s the very, very sudden sound of the front door handle rattling. 
It’s mere dumb luck that Mark manages to scramble for the remote fast enough to mute the TV before you get the door open. It’s even luckier that you wander into the apartment with both your headphones in and your eyes squinted at something on your phone. It’s just enough time for them to all assume the picture of perfect innocence when you do finally look up— appearing almost startled by the sight of them all staring at you with wide eyes, silent and still like a bunch of weeping angels.
Jeno for an entirely different reason than the rest of them, however.
“Hello… all?” you greet, clearly suspicious, but you can’t seem to put your finger on the reason they’re all looking at you, and this makes the whole room seem to relax. 
“You’re late, Rockstar,”  Jaemin says, playfully scolding, “Take-out’s gone cold.”
“I ate before practice. What are you guys doing?”
“Is it not obvious? Movie night, of course!”
There’s a beat as you glance at the TV behind their heads, all their eyes on you, before you nod slowly. 
“Movie night. Right. Uh. I’m going to head in early since I have to be out of here early tomorrow, so try not to have too much… fun out here. I’ll leave you guys to it then?” 
You readjust your duffel on your shoulder and pull an apple from the bowl on the island as you pass, not sparing a glance behind as you head for your room.
“Too much fun?” Jaemin echoes quietly beside him, the both of them still staring off after where you’d just been, when Donghyuck curses and brings their attention back to the front.
“Are you fucking— Has this been on the screen the whole time?”
It’s only belatedly Jeno realizes that, in his haste to just get your youtube channel off the screen, Mark must’ve just pressed any recommended video from the suggestions. Even if it didn’t make the most sense for them to be so diligently watching. Because, still muted, a video of an aerobics class plays on the TV dozens of women in a giant studio, dressed in very tight, very small clothes, all bending over and lunging and casually contorting their bodies into positions that would probably make nuns across the country blush. 
Quite the movie you walked in on them watching. Together. Without speaking. On mute. Mark gasps when he realizes this and snatches the remote again, frantically clicking on something else like the damage hasn’t already been done, and Chenle laughs until he cries when he, also, finally understands what a sight that must’ve been. Jeno probably would’ve found it hilarious too, if he’d been paying attention to it at all.
Instead, all he could really think about was the fact that while he couldn’t take his eyes off of you— you hadn’t thought to look in his direction once.
Movie night comes to a close with two casualties— Renjun and Jisung, snoring and completely unconscious on the couch and floor respectively— Mark shooing the rest of them out at one in the morning with a loud yawn and a promise to continue Scream VI after everyone's classes tomorrow night. 
Per usual, Jeno gets sacked with taking Jaemin home. And per usual, like a Gremlin straight from the films, Jaemin turns into a pit of insatiable hunger after midnight and demands they stop at a drive through so he can get something to eat.
But if Jeno is being honest— he really just wants to go home. 
He’s tired. It’s been a long day. Four classes, basketball practice, having to take his car to get looked at because the air coming out of the aircon kept smelling like burnt lemons. The final nail in the coffin had been you not even batting an eye at him when you’d gotten home, when he’s been physically unable to think of anything else besides you for the last four days.
He is entirely ready to call it a night…  but he knows that he’ll never, ever hear the end of it if he doesn’t take Jaemin somewhere before he drops him off, and it’s only fate that he spies McDonalds golden arches at the next turn signal. 
He whips into the drive through and is preparing to turn right back out of the lot when the food is safely in the vehicle a few minutes later, but Jaemin asks him for something he’s never asked for before.
He asks him to park. 
Jeno glances at him, incredulous, but Jaemin doesn’t seem to be joking at all. “You can’t wait until you’re home?”
“I’m hungry, I said. And I want to eat in peace.”
“You had two whole servings of that Lo Mein and still snuck some off of my plate.”
“Don’t fat shame me,” Jaemin replies mildly, eyeing the steaming contents of the paper bag. “My digestion is only a quarter of the reason. Jaehyun will snatch this from me if he sees me come into the house with it. Just park it, will you?”
And because Jeno has never really been one to argue, despite being annoyed by the detour, he does just that. 
He should’ve known better though. Jaemin knows a dozen ways to sneak food into that apartment without setting off the nose of his brother; the two have been living together for a year and a half. He’s never asked him to park before because he’s never needed Jeno to park— but he doesn’t start realizing any possible ulterior motives until a few minutes in, when (after he’s polished off half of his nuggets in complete silence) Jaemin asks how he’s doing. 
Jeno’s eyebrows dart up to his hairline. “What?”
“I’m asking if you’re okay,” Jaemin says. “Doesn’t take a psychiatrist to see that you’ve been off these last few days. What’s on your mind?”
“What’s on my mind?” 
And only then does he put two and two together.
“Is this... is this an intervention?”
“What? Of course not! I can’t just wonder how my friend is doing?”
“You made me drive you into an empty parking lot at one in the morning because you were just wondering? Are you even hungry?”
“I would never lie about food,” Jaemin says with great offense, seemingly forgetting himself for a moment before he sees the jarred look on Jeno’s face. “Well. Okay. Fine. I just… I heard what happened on the balcony with you and Rockstar a few days ago.”
It’s like being suckerpunched. 
“You’ve been all weird since,” he continues, “And watching you do nothing about it is starting to stress me out.”
Jeno expects to feel angry once the shock wears off; to get mad at Jaemin for eavesdropping, or butting in, or for trying to offer advice Jeno didn’t ask for. But nothing actually comes to him besides an eye twitch, courtesy of Jaemin’s straw squeaking as he stabs it through the soda cup lid. 
He releases the tension from his spine. No need to play coy, then. “Weird is an understatement.”
“Of course it is. You’ve been moping around like you’re about to be executed.” 
“Because I screwed up, man.”
“What?” Jaemin says flippantly. “Hardly. There were a few rough edges, like how you probably could’ve gone without calling the poor girl’s eternal undying love for you… cute, but as far as I know nothing you told her was a lie. I don’t actually see where you went wrong in telling her that her brother was the reason you didn’t acknowledge her feelings when she asked.”
Jaemin says nothing for a moment as he leans forward, shaking and then rifling through the brown bag for the few fries that had somehow escaped his previous sweep. Jeno knows better than to take that speech as final verdict, however. A silence this heavy over ever means that there’s a but. There’s always a—
“If you’re not interested in her anymore, that is. Because what you did up there was pretty straightforward, for someone who was actually trying to let a girl down easy.”
And there it is. Jeno screws his eyes shut and exhales for much, much too long, if only to focus on the feeling of his lungs caving in instead of where he is and what he’s talking about.
“And if I wasn’t trying to let her down easy?” Jeno asks.
Jaemin doesn’t even look at him. Just keeps his eyes trained lazily on the traffic going by, humming as he inserts another whole nugget into his mouth. “Then you’re fucked.”
Okay. Here the anger comes, just a little belated. The wave of irritation that hits him at Jaemin’s stupid reply catches him off guard. Then you’re fucked. If Jeno didn’t already know that would he have asked? Did Jaemin bring him out here to rub it in? Just to hear the details?
Without thinking he jams his middle finger into the push to start, roaring the car’s engine to life— if his only goal was to remind Jeno of his colossal mistake then he could finish his damn nuggests elsewhere.
“Woah, woah!” Jaemin bursts as the car jerks into first gear, big eyes wide in alarm, “Damn, man, I was just— Can I finish before you tear out of here like fucking Batman?”
“Why can’t you just eat while I drive?”
“What? No, I meant finish what I was saying! There’s still hope for you, dipshit!”
And he sounds so sure of himself that Jeno can’t help but hesitate. With a huff that even he knows is petulant, Jeno knocks the shift back into park and drags a heavy, tired hand down his face. “What hope.”
“Have you maybe considered telling her how you feel?”
“Did you pull that from an episode of Dr.Phil?” he mocks childishly, but before he can finish Jaemin socks him in the arm hard enough to make him yelp, patience waning, and wary of being hit again Jeno says the first thing that comes to mind.
“No! No, I’ve never considered it, because I don’t… I don’t know.” 
Jaemin says nothing, so he just keeps going. “I don’t know how I feel. Whenever I felt myself caring too much about what she was doing I’d just chalk it up to Mark’s overprotectiveness rubbing off on me or something, and I’ve been like that for so long that it’s just become my go-to answer. I’ve never let myself think about it long enough to come to any other conclusion. I couldn’t.”
“Because you were scared of what you’d realize if you did?” Jaemin finishes, unsurprised. “You’re so stupid.”
“Fuck off,” Jeno bites, but Jaemin shakes his head. 
“No. You’re actually dumb. You already know how you feel about her. You’ve known. You’ve just never let yourself say it out loud because saying it out loud means confirming it, and confirming it means you have to choose, but not looking at the writing on the wall doesn’t mean it isn’t there. What you still don’t seem to realize is that not choosing is still a choice.”
“A choice that keeps everyone happy,” he replies through a taut jaw. “Y/N got over me, and Mark doesn’t hate my guts. Easy.”
Jaemin looks like he has a lot to say about that statement, but swallows it down to ask the one he finds will get him the closest to his goal. “Why are you even friends with Mark if you think he’ll hate you over something like this?”
“What?”
“Don’t get mad at me, Jeno, actually think. He’s your best friend. You’re closer to brothers than two people who only met in high school. But you swear he’d drop you without a second thought if ever found out that you ever happened to look at Y/N in a way that wasn’t entirely innocent. Why? Are you some sort of threat Mark should be wary of? Do you have nefarious intentions with his baby sister?”
Jeno balks. Jaemin is clearly just trying to rile him up, his questions nothing but rhetorical, but regardless of knowing this Jeno still feels something angry and dark churning in his gut. His voice is a touch sharper than me means for it to be when he says, warningly, “What the hell are you trying to say, Jaemin?“
“I’m not trying to say anything! I’m asking you, because I’m seriously starting to think that you’ve never asked yourself! What reason do you actually have for thinking Mark wouldn’t even hear you out?”
“I know you’ve heard him, man. When he told us she was hanging out with Yeonjun again, you don’t remember that? How pissed he’d get— the tangents he’d go on, how he’d insist no guy was good enough for her, how guys ‘our age’ have nothing good in mind when it comes to chasing after girls? You think just because we’re his friends that rule doesn’t apply to us?”
“I don’t think that, actually,” Jaemin snorts and pulls yet another nugget from the bag. “Especially because Yeonjun was a super senior that was nearing twenty when he graduated, and had a reputation you could see from around corners for using girls like fast food napkins. That’s your big hang up? That Mark didn’t want some sleaze like that hanging around his sister?”
He has a point. But in Jeno’s mind this isn’t nearly enough to undo years and years of Mark’s theoretical judgment hanging over his neck like a guillotine.
“Yeonjun is a strong example, but it still seemed pretty clear to me that he meant that about every guy. Not just the real shitheads.”
“Then you read him wrong.”
Jeno surprises even himself when he laughs. “What makes you so sure, Na?”
“‘Cause he—”  And Jaemin hesitates. All that informative bravado wavers, a visible wave of uncertainty crossing his face. “Because a few years ago he pretty much gave me permission. To go after her, I mean.”
Jeno thought for sure that after Wooyoung’s party he’d really experienced it all. The confusion, at first, as the explanation fell so casually from your mouth; Hooked up with one of your siblings friends, Somi said. But you only had one sibling, and Jeno also was pretty fucking sure he knew all of Mark’s friends since. Some itchy part of him wished you were lying— merely putting a finger down to look cool amongst the party goers and not because you’d actually lost the round, but he knew you and was therefore acutely aware of the fact that you weren’t one to play pretend for strangers. 
Then, before he even had time to come to terms with why he felt so bothered by this knowledge, Somi accidentally outed this mysterious Mosquito Boy and Jeno felt like he’d just been doused in ice. 
In the span of a few seconds he ran though the five stages of grief like a racecar zipping around a closed track. Denial, quick and easy, he thought Somi must’ve just been mistaken. That Jaemin probably just looked like whoever it was that you hooked up with, and in her stupor tried to connect dots that weren’t there. But not only did that stop making sense once he really thought about it— since you explicitly mentioned the lake house and Mark’s birthday, two landmarks that would be very hard to miscalculate— he’d seen the look on your face when Somi said it. 
You weren’t annoyed that she got it wrong. You were terrified because she’d gotten it right.
Then came anger. Sharp and barely contained, Jeno’s eyes drifted from your face to Jaemin’s, and a wash of deep, burning… something, took him over. Jeno might not have been able to name the crime Jaemin committed, because you were both consenting adults who were fully allowed to do what they pleased and it wasn’t like Jaemin was bound by blood to tell them everything he did in his freetime, but Jeno as he watched Jaemin smile at you, none the wiser to what secret of his had just been spilled to half their class, he still felt like he was staring at someone who should be on the top of a wanted list.
There simply was no final stage of acceptance, because for the last week he’s been stuck squarely in depression. Replaying that moment on the balcony over and over again like a kid picking at a scab, moping around campus like some sort of ghost as the days went by.
He thought he’d felt it all, in the last four days. He thought that there were no more bombshells to be dropped. 
This presumption is blown out of the water when, after the near fifteen seconds it takes for him to compute what Jaemin has just said, Jeno finally feels something new. 
And whatever it is, the appearance of it on his face seems to worry Jaemin greatly.
“He gave you… permission?”
“Which I did nothing with,” Jaemin says with careful haste, “I didn’t. He’d just… picked up on something. He took the fact that I dote on her so much as— As a sign, or something, that I liked her, and pulled me aside one day before you and Hyuck got to their house.”
He swallows. “When?” 
“Some time when we were juniors. I know it was close to summer because I just turned eighteen.” He laughs, awkwardly and a little too loud, like this is the first time he’s telling this story and is just now realizing how ridiculous it is. Jeno doesn’t laugh with him. “I asked if Rockstar was coming home ‘cause I had something for her, and he said dropped her off at her friend’s house already. Then he got this look on his face and said, super seriously, that he wouldn’t mind if she liked a guy like me. I said what, he said what, and then elaborated that he noticed how much I fuss over her and stuff, and that if I liked her more than I let on that he’d be cool with it. Said I’d— He knew I’d treat her well.”
“Cool with it,” Jeno echoes distantly. “Cool with… you. Dating Y/N.”
“I turned him down,” Jaemin tells him for some reason. “Just laughed it off, because I didn’t know what else to do.”
“Why?”
He blinks like this is the last question he was expecting Jeno to ask. “Why?”
“Obviously, you—” The words almost don’t want to come out. “You’re clearly attracted to her. I don’t see why you wouldn’t take that as a greenlight to really pursue it.”
“You’re asking me why I didn’t ask her out?”
“Yes?”
“Are you kidding? I didn’t do anything about it because of you. So you could then kill me in my sleep?”
“I wouldn’t have felt anyhow about it,” Jeno lies. “If Mark gave you his blessing then that— That has nothing to do with—”
“Yes it does, man! I only brought it up because it’s proof that Mark doesn’t just shoot blindly when it comes to who his little sister likes, and if you don’t have to worry about that, you can stop lying to yourself about what you really want. You have a chance.”
“I had a chance,” Jeno blurts before he can swallow it, truth sharp and instantly sobering. “Before the lake house. Maybe even before what I said on Saturday. But—” He remembers the look on your face on the balcony. The clear, deep hurt. Then he remembers how you looked at him an hour ago. Or how you didn’t look at him, more realistically— Casual, unbothered, composed.
Unlike him, you’ve already reached some semblance of acceptance.
“But this time I think I really messed up.”
The lights of the restaurant are too bright in his periphery. The silence is too quiet, and the air in the car is too suffocating. Again he’s grabbed by the urge to go home, and before Jaemin can say another word Jeno glances at the finally empty fast food box in his lap.
This time when the engine revs and Jeno wordlessly kicks the car into drive, Jaemin says nothing. 
You owe it to her to tell her the truth, you know.
Jaemin lives in an apartment with his older brother, a few short blocks from Jeno’s own place. The ride had been mostly silent, neither of them really feeling the need to speak in lieu of the rather tense exchange they’d left behind— the first thing Jaemin said since they left the parking lot was when he was pulling in front of the building, and it was for Jeno to cut down on the moping if he didn’t want to have wrinkles by twenty-five. 
Before Jeno could roll his eyes and tell him to get out, Jaemin opened the door and stepped out himself; but not without doing what he does best. Lecturing.
She’s miserable. You’re miserable. I know you know that much.
Jeno only sighed.
All because of one big miscommunication. I know you, and I like to think that after half a decade of being in her house I’d know Y/N pretty well too, and you’re both never going to be able to look at each other again without this hanging over your heads if you don’t sort it out. If you’re so sure that this is the end, then you have nothing to lose by telling her the truth about everything. Everything. How you feel now, and how you felt then. And if there’s any part of you that believes this can be saved, then you need to try as hard as you can to make sure it happens. And it starts with you manning up and telling her feelings weren’t nearly as unrequited as she thinks.
And Jeno wasn’t quite in the mood to tell him he was right, so he didn’t. Instead he squinted at Jaemin, and asked the question that’s been prickling in his mind since they pulled out of the fast food place. 
“What Mark said about giving you his blessing,” he started, “You said you turned it down for me.”
Jaemin raised an eyebrow. “Yeah. Because regardless of how obtuse you are, I know what I saw. You liked her. A lot. I wasn’t getting in the way of that.”
A beat. 
“And If I wasn’t there to get in the way?”
It’s a clear inquiry to Jeno, cut and dry, but Jaemin laughs like he’s just been asked a trick question. With his eyes narrowed and a cavalier smile in his expression, Jaemin stared at him as if he was thinking ‘Do you actually want to know the answer to that?’ and in that moment without a single word spoken, Jeno saw it all. There was a world quite similar to this one where they weren’t having this conversation, or talking so casually about you, or sharing advice. A world where Jaemin was a more opportunistic person who didn’t care that Jeno had liked you first; A world where they weren’t friends, but rivals.
If you weren’t in the way then she would be mine.
“I don’t think asking things like that is going to help you get the girl.”
“I would still appreciate the clarification,” Jeno said, just as vague.
“Mmm. I bet. Well, Lee Jeno,” Jaemin tapped the roof of the car twice, the whole car echoing with the force of it despite how casually he spoke, “My answer to that question is going to make you do everything but appreciate me, so how about we call a draw here, huh? Before we open that can of worms and everyone gets all… thinky.”
And they both knew that by not answering Jaemin had actually replied loud and clear. But once he heeded his words— really sat there and thought about it, what good it would do for anyone if Jeno knew how Jaemin really felt about you, he found himself agreeing. 
Maybe ignorance is bliss. 
“You smell like french fries,” Jeno called offhandedly, as Jaemin retreated closer and closer to the revolving doors of his building. He turns right as Jeno steps out of the driver's seat, just in time to catch the tiny cologne he keeps in the console for emergencies. “No chance Jaehyun won’t clock you.”
Jaemin cooed. “So thoughtful you are, No-Jam! If you weren’t so buff and scary, Y/N-ie might’ve had competition.”
And for the first time all night, maybe even all week, Jeno felt a genuine laugh.
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[♥︎]: and there it is, folks! please leave a like if you enjoyed! it REALLY gives me the motivation to work on this faster! plus, yay, new chapter after a literal entire year, LOL
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