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leriexoxo · 15 days ago

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Look What You Made Me Do

Bestfriend! Seungmin x Reader

Tags: Explicit content, dom!Seungmin, choking, spanking, obsession, mutual manipulation, friends being absolute menaces to each other, emotional walls crumbling under horny pressure, language, soft regret, hard truths, unprotected sex (be smart irl), and delulu behavior all around

Word count: 6k

Summary: You and Seungmin have been best friends forever. Then he got hot—and you got reckless. A few teasing touches, too-short clothes, and one dangerous trip to Victoria’s Secret later… he’s snapping. Now he’s got you pinned, moaning his name, and saying this is your fault. And honestly? It is. You just didn’t expect him to fuck you like he meant it.

This work contains mature themes, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!

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Seungmin had no idea what he was doing to you.

That was the most maddening part.

He’d always been cute—adorably annoying, fast-talking, sharp-eyed—but it wasn’t until he started hitting the gym that things… shifted. He’d bulked up slowly. Nothing crazy. Just enough to stretch the sleeves of his old T-shirts, to make the lines of his back visible when he reached for something, to have veins pop along his forearms when he gripped the edge of the kitchen counter.

And it was ruining you.

You tried to keep it under control. He was your best friend. Your movie-night buddy. The guy who knew your favorite ice cream flavor and let you scream into his chest when your favorite character died in a drama. But now?

Now he walked into your apartment after a workout, sweat-slick and flushed, with his hoodie slung over one shoulder and his water bottle dangling from two fingers, and your brain just… emptied.

“Ugh,” he groaned, dropping onto your bed like he belonged there, limbs sprawled, shirt clinging to his chest. “Kill me. Everything hurts.”

You leaned against your desk, sipping your iced coffee and pretending to be unfazed. “Did you even stretch?”

He threw an arm over his face. “Forgot. Again.”

You raised a brow, setting your drink down. “That’s why you’re sore all the time.”

“I know,” he mumbled. “You should become my trainer.”

A wicked little idea bloomed in your head. You walked over and sat beside him, knees brushing. “Seriously. Let me help. Where’s the worst of it?”

He peeked out from under his arm, wary. “My shoulders. Arms, maybe. Back.”

You hummed thoughtfully, eyes skimming down his body like you were considering a patient and not undressing your best friend with your eyes. “Roll over.”

He blinked. “What?”

You patted the bed. “C’mon. I’m giving you a free massage.”

He hesitated for a second before groaning and rolling onto his stomach. His shirt rode up just a little, flashing a strip of skin at the small of his back. You bit the inside of your cheek and straddled his thighs, pretending your pulse hadn’t just spiked.

“Let me know if anything hurts,” you said sweetly, placing your palms on his shoulders.

You felt him tense.

Then, slowly, he relaxed.

You started soft, thumbs tracing slow circles into the muscle. He was warm under your touch, all taut skin and heat, and he smelled like sweat and fabric softener. You let your fingers trail lower, down his biceps, deliberately grazing a little closer to his ribs than necessary.

He shifted beneath you.

“You okay?” you asked, voice syrupy.

“Y-Yeah,” he muttered. “Just ticklish.”

Liar.

You leaned down a little, letting your chest brush his back. “You sure?”

His breath stuttered.

You smiled.

Ten minutes later, you rolled off him and collapsed beside him on the bed like nothing happened. He lay very still, face turned away, ears flushed pink.

You stretched with a content sigh. “See? That wasn’t so bad.”

He muttered something you didn’t catch.

You turned your head toward him, smirking to yourself as he fumbled for his hoodie and refused to meet your eyes.

He didn’t say it, but you knew.

You’d started something.

⸻

It was freezing outside, but your apartment was always too warm.

Well—that’s what you told him.

The truth was simpler. You didn’t want to layer up when Seungmin was around. You didn’t need a bra under your soft, thin cotton shirts. And you definitely didn’t care that it was the middle of winter when your nipples pressed visibly against the fabric, catching the light like a fucking weapon.

Seungmin knocked on your door like he always did—three quick taps, followed by a dramatic sigh when you didn’t answer right away.

You opened the door in one of your old college shirts. It hung loose off your shoulder and just barely covered the top of your thighs.

“Dude,” he groaned, stepping inside with a gust of wind behind him. “Do you not believe in heat? It’s like Antarctica outside.”

You closed the door and shrugged. “I run warm.”

He turned around to respond—but paused.

Eyes. Chest. Eyes again.

You pretended not to notice.

He cleared his throat. “You’re not cold?”

You blinked. “Nope. Why?”

His jaw ticked. “No reason.”

He followed you into the living room like a man possessed, already taking off his jacket. You flopped onto the couch, legs tucked under you, phone in hand. He sat a little too far away for best friends, eyes fixed on the TV, posture painfully upright.

You stretched.

Not dramatically. Just enough to raise your arms, to arch your back, to make the fabric slide up your thighs and tighten across your chest.

Out of the corner of your eye, you caught it—his sharp inhale. The way his hands curled into fists on his lap. How he shifted just slightly, like he couldn’t find a comfortable position.

You bit the inside of your cheek to keep from smiling.

“You good?” you asked innocently.

“Me? Yeah. Fine.”

But his voice cracked a little.

You slid closer, under the guise of sharing a blanket. Your bare leg brushed his thigh. You saw the way he tensed. How he didn’t move away.

“I think you’re cold,” you murmured, pressing your body against his. “You’re shaking.”

He let out a soft, strangled laugh. “I’m not.”

“Then why are you so tense?”

“Because,” he said, finally turning to you, voice low and tight, “you keep forgetting to wear a damn bra, and I’m a guy, not a monk.”

You blinked up at him.

Silence.

Then you smiled. Sweet. Coy. Wicked.

“We’re best friends, Seungmin.”

He stared at you.

And you?

You curled up beside him again, laid your head on his shoulder, and let your nipple graze his arm like a silent fuck you.

He didn’t speak for the rest of the movie.

But you felt his pulse—racing under your palm when you took his hand later, like everything was still perfectly innocent.

⸻

You always tried it at movie night.

Popcorn. Blankets. A stupid horror movie that you’d pretend to be scared of just to curl up in Seungmin’s lap. He’d roll his eyes, toss a comment about how you were the worst, but he never pushed you off.

Not once.

That night, he arrived in his usual hoodie and sweats, hair still damp from a post-gym shower. You opened the door in the tiniest cotton sleep shorts known to mankind and a faded crop top with a neckline that dipped far too low to be innocent.

His eyes did a quick up-down scan before he looked away. “Are you even wearing pants?”

“Barely,” you said, walking away with a shrug.

He didn’t answer.

He never did. I

You waited until you were halfway through the movie before curling into his side. First your shoulder against his. Then your thigh draped over his lap. His muscles tensed like clockwork—every time, without fail—but he didn’t move.

Your head dropped to his shoulder. You exhaled softly, letting your hand slide up to rest on his chest.

He stayed perfectly still.

You closed your eyes, and smiled.

You “fell asleep” sometime after midnight.

In reality, you were very much awake—especially when you felt his hand hovering awkwardly near your hip, unsure of where to rest. You were practically on top of him, pressed flush against his side, one leg tangled between his, your chest smushed against his ribs.

You could feel everything.

The tight line of tension running through his body.

The way his breath stuttered when you shifted in your “sleep.”

And… yeah. You could feel that too.

You shifted again—just slightly. A slow grind of your hips as you turned in his arms. Your thigh brushed something dangerous, and you swore you heard him gasp.

You waited for him to pull away.

He didn’t.

You could feel his heart hammering in his chest, hard and fast. You exhaled against his neck, lips just grazing his skin.

He flinched.

Still, he said nothing.

In the morning, you “woke up” with a stretch and a yawn, like you hadn’t spent the night dry-humping your best friend’s thigh under the guise of innocent cuddling.

“Did you sleep okay?” you asked sweetly.

He got out of bed without looking at you, muttered something about needing a shower, and disappeared into the bathroom.

You could still see the outline of him in his sweats.

He was very awake.

⸻

Seungmin had this stupid habit of crashing at your place after a long day.

Sometimes with takeout. Sometimes with his laptop and a hoodie slung over one shoulder. Sometimes, like tonight, he brought nothing at all—just himself in gray sweatpants and a fitted black tee that should’ve been illegal.

“I’m using your shower,” he called over his shoulder as he kicked off his sneakers. “Your water pressure’s better.”

You leaned on the kitchen counter, eyes raking over his back. “Help yourself. You know where everything is.”

He didn’t hear the way your voice dropped when you said it.

He didn’t see the way you bit your lip when his shirt lifted as he stretched, exposing a sliver of toned stomach.

Ten minutes later, he walked out in nothing but a towel slung low around his hips, steam trailing behind him, hair dripping onto his shoulders.

“Forgot my bag in your room,” he mumbled, heading straight past you.

You didn’t stop him.

Didn’t offer a spare shirt.

Didn’t look away.

He returned in your favorite pair of his sweats and a hoodie that somehow did nothing to hide the curve of his chest or the flex of his forearms. He plopped onto the couch beside you, hair still damp, smelling like your body wash.

Your thighs touched. He didn’t move.

You flipped to the next episode of your show, pretending your skin wasn’t tingling everywhere he brushed against you.

Then your feet ended up in his lap.

Innocently, of course.

He stared at them for a second, frozen, then settled his hands on your calves. His thumbs traced idle circles—subconscious, mindless, dangerous.

You bit back a shiver. “That tickles.”

He stopped. “Sorry.”

“Didn’t say I wanted you to stop.”

He looked up.

Your gaze locked.

The air shifted.

You didn’t say anything else. Just laid your head back and let him keep touching you. Let him figure out whether he was comforting you or feeling you up. Let his hands drag a little too high, just under the hem of your shorts.

You could feel the tension rolling off him in waves. His leg bounced once. Then again. Then he let out a long, slow breath and moved your legs off him.

“I’m gonna head to bed,” he muttered.

You smiled lazily. “Mine or yours?”

He looked at you. Eyes dark. Jaw tight.

He said nothing.

Just left the room.

And you swore—just swore—you heard him muttering a prayer under his breath.

—-

Seungmin already looked uncomfortable when you dragged him into Victoria’s Secret. The store smelled like sugar and sin, and he stood out like a sore thumb—tall, stiff, silent, trying not to make eye contact with a single mannequin.

You were glowing.

“This is cute, right?” you asked, holding up a deep wine-red lace set—strappy, sheer, the kind of thing no one wore to sleep unless they wanted to be devoured.

He blinked. “It’s… sure. Yeah. Cute.”

“You didn’t even look,” you teased, pouting slightly as you headed toward the changing room. “Be honest with me, Minnie. That’s what best friends are for.”

He sat down on the little bench outside the fitting rooms like he was awaiting trial.

You emerged in the first set.

It was all lace—deep burgundy, semi-sheer, with triangle cups that left nothing to the imagination. The panties were minimal, strappy on the sides, clinging to the curves of your hips like they were sewn on. You’d left your hair messy, lips glossy, and your eyes locked on him when you stepped out barefoot onto the plush carpet.

His entire body went still.

“Thoughts?” you asked, turning slowly to show the back—where the straps dipped dangerously low across your spine.

He blinked once. Twice.

Then swallowed. “It’s, uh…”

You walked closer. “Too much?”

“No. Not— not too much.” He sounded strangled. “It’s just…”

You leaned in like you couldn’t quite hear. “It’s just what?”

He looked at you like he was fighting for his life. “We’re in public,” he hissed under his breath.

You smiled.

“I’ll try another.”

The second set was worse.

So much worse.

Black satin. High-cut thong. Delicate mesh cups that teased at opacity but left your nipples perfectly visible in the right light. The garter belt cinched your waist. The matching choker clasped at your throat.

You looked like a fantasy someone wasn’t allowed to say out loud.

When you stepped out the second time, Seungmin actually stood up—too fast. Like something broke.

His eyes dragged over you once, from the tops of your thighs to your barely-covered chest to the glinting clip around your neck.

His throat bobbed.

You turned again, slow and smooth, letting him see everything.

“So?” you asked, lips pouted in faux innocence. “Would you be honest now?”

He didn’t say anything.

He just stared.

Unblinking.

Unmoving.

You stepped closer—soft, quiet steps until you were standing in front of him in nothing but satin and lust.

“I trust your taste,” you murmured, fingers brushing his forearm. “You always know what looks good on me.”

He exhaled like he’d been underwater too long.

“I think,” he said lowly, voice thick and dangerous, “you’re playing a very dangerous game right now.”

You tilted your head. “What game?”

“The one where you walk around like that, looking at me like that, saying shit like that—like you don’t know exactly what the fuck you’re doing to me.”

Your stomach flipped.

“Every night,” he muttered. “Every time you touch me. Crawl into my laps. Walk around in those tiny shorts, no bra, all soft and sleepy and warm. And now this?”

His eyes raked over you again. He shook his head like he couldn’t believe any of it was real.

“You’re gonna get yourself fucked,” he whispered. “And not gently.”

Silence.

Then, just as suddenly, he stepped back.

“I’m leaving.”

Your breath caught. “Seungmin—”

“Before I lose control. Before I stop caring that you’re pretending this is normal.”

He turned and walked out of the store without another word.

You stood there trembling, skin hot, still in the black lingerie that had pushed your best friend to the brink of feral rage and sexual implosion.

He was running.

And now? You were chasing.

—

You didn’t expect him to say it.

Not like that.

Not with heat in his voice and warning in his eyes and a low growl in his throat like he’d been holding it back for months.

You had been teasing.

Playing.

Flirting with the edge of something wicked because it was fun. Because he was your best friend and he never said anything, so it couldn’t have been that bad, right?

He was always so soft.

Puppy Seungmin. Chill Seungmin. Safe Seungmin.

Until he wasn’t.

Until Victoria’s Secret.

Until he looked at you in that black satin set and told you—told you—that he knew.

And worse:

That if you kept it up, he was going to fuck you.

Hard.

Like you weren’t his best friend at all.

And then he left.

He left you standing half-naked and breathless and undone.

And now?

He won’t even look at you.

He started avoiding you immediately.

Late replies. Closed doors. Canceled plans.

He wasn’t mean. Just distant.

You came over to watch your show? He “had homework.”

You texted something flirty? He liked it—but didn’t respond.

You asked if he wanted food? “Already ate.”

He stopped crashing at your place.

Stopped falling asleep beside you.

Stopped letting his thigh brush yours like it didn’t mean anything.

And every time you saw him, you could feel it in the air.

Something thick and charged and dangerous.

Like a storm crouched on the horizon.

⸻

You found him on campus.

Outside one of the side buildings, earbuds in, head down, walking like he had somewhere important to be even though he very much did not.

“Minnie?.”

He paused. Didn’t turn.

“Seungmin,” you said again, stepping in front of him this time. “Are you really ignoring me now?”

He tugged one earbud out, looked past you like you weren’t even standing there.

“You’ve been weird all week.”

“I’ve been busy.”

“Cut the crap.”

He sighed—like you were exhausting him—and finally looked down at you.

You were wearing your little white tennis skirt. The one that barely hid anything when the wind hit just right. Your top was cropped and ribbed and soft, your nipples faintly visible beneath the fabric. Nothing intentional. Nothing illegal. Just… you being you.

And that’s what made it so much worse.

“You want me to pretend?”

Your heart skipped. “What?”

“You want me to pretend you didn’t walk out in that fucking lingerie looking like you wanted me to drop to my knees right there? You want me to pretend like I haven’t been losing my mind every goddamn time you touch me, every time you look at me, every time you sit in my lap like it’s nothing?”

You stared, breath caught in your throat.

“I’m not stupid,” he said, stepping closer. “You knew exactly what you were doing. And I let it happen. Because I kept telling myself it was innocent. That you were just being you.”

His eyes dropped to your chest—just for a second. Just enough.

“But then you walked out in that second set. The black one. And I realized it wasn’t innocent. You were daring me. And if I stayed one more second, I was gonna take you right there in that changing room.”

You should’ve said something.

You should’ve stopped looking at him like that.

But your mouth was dry and your thighs were clenched and your heart was in your throat.

So he shook his head and turned again.

“I’m not avoiding you,” he said quietly. “I’m protecting you. Because the next time you test me like that…”

He didn’t finish the sentence.

He didn’t need to.

He walked away, leaving you in the hallway shaking—hot and cold and soaked through with the memory of his voice, his stare, his confession.

—

You weren’t proud of it.

You hadn’t meant for it to go that far.

The lingerie, the teasing, the bedroom eyes—it was always a game.

Until he broke the rules.

Until he said it.

Until he told you how badly he wanted to ruin you.

And now?

Now you couldn’t stop hearing it. Couldn’t stop seeing the way his jaw clenched when he looked at you. Couldn’t stop feeling the tension that had been boiling beneath your friendship like a livewire all this time.

You didn’t plan to go to his place.

But your feet brought you there anyway.

He didn’t answer the door at first.

Probably debating whether he should see you at all.

But then it cracked open, and there he was—bare chest, low sweatpants, damp hair, glowing with the heat of a recent shower.

And there you were—nervous, unsure, but still dressed like a fucking menace in that oversized hoodie and the tiniest sleep shorts you owned.

“Can I come in?” you asked, voice soft.

He exhaled. Tired. Guarded. “Yeah.”

You stepped inside.

His room was quiet. Dark. Intimate.

And he sat back down on the edge of his bed like he didn’t want to look at you for too long.

You hovered awkwardly. “I… I wanted to say sorry.”

His brows lifted. “For what?”

You hesitated. “For pushing too far. The lingerie thing. The teasing. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

He gave you a long, unreadable stare.

“You didn’t make me uncomfortable,” he said finally. “You made me hard.”

Your pulse skipped. He didn’t even blink as he said it.

“But,” he added lowly, “I meant what I said. I can’t keep being around you if you keep pretending this is normal. I’m trying not to fuck you. That’s not easy when you look at me like you want me to do it.”

That should’ve been the end of it.

But it wasn’t.

Because the second he lay back on the bed, one arm tucked behind his head, eyes closed and jaw clenched—like he was exhausted by the very thought of you—

You moved.

Climbed onto the mattress like it was yours. Crawled across it slow and quiet until you were behind him.

And then you slipped your arms around his torso.

Pressed your chest to his bare back.

Rested your cheek between his shoulder blades.

He went rigid. Tensed under you.

But you whispered against his skin, “I’m sorry…”

And kissed his back.

Soft.

Sweet.

Just below the base of his neck.

He didn’t breathe.

“I’ll be good,” you murmured, kissing the curve of his spine.

Still no reaction.

“Don’t stay mad,” you whispered, lips ghosting the edge of his shoulder.

Then—snap.

He grabbed your wrists.

And flipped.

In one motion, he turned and pinned you to the bed beneath him—arms over your head, his body caging yours, hair falling into his eyes and rage simmering low in his voice.

“What the fuck do you want from me?” he demanded, voice hoarse.

You blinked up at him, speechless, thighs clenched.

“I’m not gonna ask again,” he growled. “You get one chance to answer me right. What the fuck do you want?”

His voice was low. Frayed.

His grip was bruising your wrists, but you couldn’t move—not even a little.

He was on top of you, his thigh between yours, the hard line of his cock pressed tight to your core through layers of sinful nothing. Your tiny shorts. Your no-panties boldness. His loose grey sweats. His bare chest heaving with restraint.

You could feel every inch of him.

His hand was pinning both your wrists above your head, one handed, like you weighed nothing.

“Because I’m done pretending I don’t want to fuck you, and if you say the wrong thing right now…”

He lowered his head until his lips brushed your ear. “…I’ll stop trying.”

“So. What do you want from me?” he asked again.

And you— You whimpered.

Like a bad little slut.

Eyes wide. Lips parted. Back arching under him without even realizing it.

You didn’t answer with words.

You didn’t need to.

Your body said everything.

The way your thighs rubbed together.

The way you stared at his mouth like you wanted it on every inch of your skin.

The way you breathed like he already had you split open and moaning his name.

Seungmin’s jaw locked.

And that was it.

That was all it took.

Something in him snapped.

He let go of your wrists—and his hand dropped straight to your throat.

Not squeezing. Just resting. A threat. A warning.

“You like playing games?” he muttered, eyes dark and jaw clenched. “You like walking around teasing me like I don’t see it? Acting like this is normal?”

His palm dragged slowly down your chest—over the hoodie that still clung to you, over your aching nipples pressing hard against the fabric. Then he hooked his fingers in the hem, yanked it up, and groaned when he found you bare beneath it.

“Fucking course you’re not wearing a bra,” he growled, rubbing his thumb across your nipple, watching you squirm. “You never do. You wanted this. Didn’t you?”

You gasped. “Seungmin—”

“Say it.”

You whined under him.

“Say it, or I stop.”

“I wanted it,” you whispered, eyes pleading. “I wanted you.”

That’s all he needed.

He crashed down and kissed you—filthy, like he was trying to erase every second of self-control he’d ever shown you.

And when he pulled your shorts down and shoved his knee between your legs?

He didn’t pretend anymore.

He didn’t stop.

And he didn’t hold back.

The second he kissed you—really kissed you—there was no going back.

It wasn’t sweet.

It wasn’t soft.

It was filthy.

Seungmin kissed you like he was mad at you. Like you’d done something unspeakable.

Like you’d been a bad girl—his bad girl—and this was how he planned to punish you.

He shoved the hoodie off your shoulders and let his hands roam.

Everywhere.

Your chest, your waist, your thighs. His palms were hot, rough with calluses from the gym, fingers spreading your legs wide and slipping under your shorts like he already knew what he’d find.

“No panties too?” he muttered, dragging his fingers through your wetness with a broken groan. “Of course you didn’t wear fucking panties.”

You were soaked—slick and swollen and throbbing for him.

He didn’t tease.

Didn’t warm you up.

He plunged two fingers inside you and kissed you deeper when you cried out, one hand sliding back to pin your wrists again as he pumped you open.

“Look at you,” he whispered, dragging his mouth down your jaw. “So wet. So fucking needy.”

You whimpered, arching into him, thighs trembling.

“You like being under me?” he growled. “Like when I hold you down like this?”

You nodded frantically.

“Use your words.”

“Yes—yes, Seungmin, I love it—”

“You’ve been wanting this, haven’t you?” he snarled. “All those little games. You wanted me to fuck you.”

You moaned. “Please—please—”

And then he was gone.

You gasped at the loss, barely catching your breath as he shoved his sweats down and wrapped a fist around his cock—thick, flushed, angry red at the tip. Veins along the side. A bead of precum already sliding down.

He lined himself up with your entrance, gritting his teeth as he pushed just the tip in.

You shattered.

“Seungmin—!”

“Look at me.”

You did.

He stared down at you with his hand still around your wrists, his hips rolling slowly, inch by devastating inch—until he was buried so deep inside you, you couldn’t breathe.

“Feel that?” he whispered.

You nodded, tears prickling in your lashes.

“That’s not your best friend.”

And then he snapped his hips into yours—and all you saw was white.

The first thrust knocked the breath out of you.

Not just because of his size, but because of the way he looked at you—like every ounce of restraint he’d shown for the past year had finally snapped and now he was going to make you regret every single moment you played innocent while dripping in sin.

“Fuck,” he hissed, bottoming out again. “So fucking tight. You were made for this.”

Your back arched off the mattress, the stretch nearly too much. His cock dragged against every oversensitive spot inside you, nudging your cervix, owning you in ways no one ever had.

“You been thinking about this?” he gritted, voice dark as his hips slammed into yours. “Touching yourself in your little dorm bed, thinking about your best friend fucking you like a slut?”

You whimpered—nothing coherent—just a mess of yes and please and Seungmin.

He didn’t stop.

He didn’t even slow down.

He was already sweat-slicked, breathing hard, pinning your wrists above your head like he’d die before letting you go.

And when he pulled out just enough to slap the tip against your clit, you squealed.

“Oh my god—!”

“You like that?” he sneered. “You want me to make you cum like this? Beg for it.”

“Please—please—”

“No.” He slapped your inner thigh. “Beg right.”

“Seungmin, please fuck me harder. I wanna cum on your cock—want you to ruin me—”

That was all it took.

He growled—a deep, feral sound—and pounded into you again, hard enough to shake the bed.

Your eyes rolled back.

His grip tightened around your throat, just enough to make your head spin as he leaned down, lips brushing your ear.

“You asked for this,” he snarled. “Now take it.”

You came violently, thighs locking around him as your whole body spasmed beneath his. He fucked you through it—chasing his own high now, cock twitching, slamming into you over and over until—

“Shit—fuck—” he choked, and pulled out just in time to paint your stomach with thick, hot ropes of cum.

You laid there, dazed. Legs trembling. Mind shattered.

And Seungmin?

He looked at you like you’d flipped his world inside out.

“Fuck—fuck,” Seungmin growled, the words gritted through his teeth like they hurt to say. “Look what you fucking made me do.”

His voice was wrecked. Deep. Raw with emotion.

You were shaking beneath him, your legs still trembling from your last orgasm, your body completely limp, skin glistening with sweat and cum and tears. But he wasn’t done.

He couldn’t stop.

Not even if he wanted to.

He was already hard again.

Already sliding back between your legs, pushing your thighs wide as your fingers curled in the sheets. Your stomach and chest were a mess—covered in his first release, his fingerprints bruised into your hips and arms, and your wrists? Still red from his earlier grip.

“Shouldn’t be doing this,” he muttered under his breath. “Shouldn’t fucking want this.”

But he was already inside you.

No warning this time—just the stretch, the pain-pleasure burn of his cock shoving deep into your soaked cunt like he owned it now. Like he’d already decided this body, this pussy, this mess was his to destroy.

“Fucking made me this way,” he snarled, voice breaking. “You knew exactly what you were doing. Walking around in those little tops, rubbing up on me every fucking chance you got—no bra in winter? You think I didn’t notice?”

Your head was spinning.

He was already moving again—hard, fast, deep, his hips slamming into yours with punishing thrusts that had the whole bed creaking. And still—still—he held your throat in one hand and your thigh in the other, forcing you open.

“You played with me,” he groaned. “You pushed and pushed—made me lose my fucking mind—”

His hips snapped forward. You cried out, nails raking down his back. You couldn’t even answer. Couldn’t speak. Your eyes were rolling back, mouth open in a silent scream as he hit the spot perfectly with every brutal thrust.

“You like this?” he growled. “Being ruined by your best friend?”

You nodded through tears, a wreck under him.

“You like when I choke you?”

His hand tightened around your throat. You gasped, grinding up to meet his thrusts.

“You like being spanked, yeah?”

He flipped you over like you weighed nothing and smacked your ass—hard—his palm leaving a red sting that had you clenching around nothing. And then he slammed back in, making you sob into the sheets.

“Is this what you wanted?” he hissed into your ear. “You wanted me obsessed with you?”

He reached down, wrapped your hair around his fist, and yanked your head back to kiss you—sloppy, desperate, spit-slick and heated.

“I’m never fucking letting you go now.”

Your cheek was pressed into the sheets, ass arched high, legs shaking uncontrollably as Seungmin relentlessly fucked you from behind.

His hand was tangled in your hair. His other hand was at your throat again, pulling you back into him with every deep, punishing thrust.

“Mine,” he gritted out. “You’re fucking mine.”

You didn’t even know what you were moaning anymore—his name, maybe, or just some pathetic cry for more. But it didn’t matter. Your body knew. You were dripping down your thighs, already on the edge again, too full, too overstimulated, too wrecked to make sense of it.

And then—he stopped.

You gasped—outraged, ruined.

Seungmin grabbed you, flipped you onto your back again, and looked down at you like he wanted to crawl inside your skin.

His chest was heaving, his jaw clenched, his face twisted in some devastating combination of guilt and obsession.

“I can’t stop,” he whispered.

You blinked, lips parted.

“I should,” he said, leaning down, pressing his forehead to yours. “But I can’t. I’ve wanted you for too long. You made me crazy.”

You whimpered. “Then don’t stop.”

His eyes darkened.

You said it again—softer, filthier.

“Don’t stop, Seungmin… Please.”

And that broke him.

His mouth crashed into yours—finally—and it was not sweet. It was all teeth and tongue, all desperation and heat and frustration and want. He kissed you like he hated you. Like you ruined him. Like he was trying to breathe you in before you disappeared.

And when he slid back inside you?

It was slower. Deeper. More devastating.

His forehead pressed to yours. His mouth hovered above yours, catching every little moan. His hand slid under your thigh to pin it high on his waist, angling you perfectly so he could thrust in deep, again and again, until tears spilled from your eyes.

“You feel that?” he whispered, kissing your jaw. “Feel how good I fit inside you?”

You nodded, dazed.

“You’re gonna cum again, baby. Right on this cock. I wanna feel you lose it.”

You were already there.

You clenched around him—tight, desperate—and his groan was inhuman.

He didn’t even try to hold back this time.

His thrusts turned frantic, mindless, and when you came—screaming his name into his neck, body convulsing—he followed. Deep inside you this time, filling you with everything he had, his mouth open in a stunned groan as his body shuddered above yours.

He collapsed on top of you—still inside, still panting—and whispered the softest, most ruined confession against your throat.

“Fuck. I’m so in love with you.”

The room went quiet.

The only sound was your breathing—shaky, shallow—and Seungmin’s heart pounding hard against your chest as he laid there on top of you, his face buried in your neck, arms locked around you like he still couldn’t believe it happened.

Neither could you.

But you couldn’t move.

Couldn’t speak.

Couldn’t even think.

Your body was too sore, too used, too full of everything he gave you.

Still, your mouth moved without permission.

“Seungmin…”

Soft. Croaky. Barely a whisper.

He didn’t lift his head. Just held you tighter.

You tried again—more broken this time.

“Seungmin—baby…”

That did it.

He lifted his head slowly, eyes bloodshot, lips kiss-swollen, hair a complete mess. He looked like he’d been through hell. Like he’d dragged himself through fire just to get to you.

And now he was scared to look at what he burned down.

“You didn’t mean to say that,” you whispered, touching his cheek with trembling fingers.

His jaw clenched.

But he didn’t deny it.

“I didn’t mean to say it like that,” he rasped. “But yeah. I meant it.”

You just stared at him. For a long moment.

And then… a crooked, devastated smile tugged at your lips.

“You’re so dumb.”

He blinked.

“You didn’t even realize it, did you?” you murmured, brushing your nose against his. “I started all of this the moment you started hitting the gym. The moment you started looking like this. I’ve been losing my mind over you. Every day. Every fucking day.”

Seungmin’s breath caught.

You tilted your head. Bit your lip.

“I didn’t mean to fall for you, either.”

And then you kissed him.

Slow. Deep. A little messy.

Not because it was rushed. But because it meant something.

And he kissed you back like he was never going to stop.

When you finally broke apart, his thumb stroked your cheek.

“I should’ve said it sooner,” he whispered.

You laughed softly, threading your fingers through his damp hair.

“You say it every time you look at me, stupid. I just wanted to hear you admit it.”

He dropped his head to your chest with a groan, and you giggled, wrapping your arms around him.

And that was it.

No drama.

No denial.

Just two best friends who finally got too close to the line—and realized they belonged way past it all along.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Authors note: ok so i might be obsessed with the bestfriends trope… sue me 🥹 but this seungmin is in my headddddddd!!!!!!

You know the drill babes, drop that like and comment and be sure to reblogggggg! I love you guys!

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mejaemin · 2 days ago

Text

met baby - choi seungcheol

(18+) mdni !!! wc: 1.6k summary: s.coups, your rapper bf, surprises you with his appearance at the met warnings: celeb!reader, scoups is a solo rapper and NOT an idol, bathroom stuff, light daddy kink, fingering, mentions of the iconic bathroom pics + my king asap rocky, not proofread an: this look is driving me fucking crazy. congrats to my baby, i’m so proud of u !! now get in my bed.

he didn’t tell you he’d be here. you hop out of the car, manager fixing your dress, and there’s plenty of cameras that capture your absolutely shell shocked expression at the sight of your boyfriend, rapper choi seungcheol, posing for the carpet.

you genuinely have to be snapped out of it, brought back to life from your trance, to stop you from holding up the line and get your own photos taken. even as they make you spin, pose and turn every which way, behind your golden smile, the only thing on your mind is choi seungcheol.

he looks beautiful, silver hair (which you also had the pleasure of being uninformed of) matching his dusty blue-grayish suit. it’s paired with a dark, robe-like outer piece, and he looks both like the business man of your dreams and a character from a sci-fi movie. he fits the theme perfectly, and you’re so grateful for that because, as someone who’s attended multiple times, you’ve expressed your distaste for people not following the theme multiple times. he definitely understood the assignment, and when he steps off the carpet, making room for you, there’s a smirk on his face that you so wish you could wipe off.

you’re seated in different areas, of course, but you made sure your chair was in a spot where he’d stay in your line of sight. being such a talented, expensive girl has its perks, especially when it comes to your connections with the co-chairs. speaking of, you’re supposed to be in conversation with one of them, but your dismissive responses tell him enough. once all the attendees have settled in, everyone was introduced and finally allowed to mingle. your seatmates shoo you away, and you couldn’t complain as you make your way to him.

he immediately stops his conversations with other people, turning to you with a smirk. “surprise, baby.” you’re already on heels that scream ankle problems, so it’s easy to lean forward and plant your lips on his. he’s eager to welcome it, hands on your waist as he leans in further.

“this is so unfair, seungcheol. you saw the whole process of my look, and i get to have my heart attack live streamed because you hid all this from me?” you have to keep yourself from yelling, completely forgetting where you’re at as you look at him, up close. even his face is perfect, from his eyebrows to his flawless skin, all the way to his lips that pop out with his new hair.

“oops?” he laughs, and you shake your head. he’s so calm, collected as he converses with the other celebrities in the vicinity. he even manages to exchange contacts with some of them, landing collabs and features. he looks so hot like this, holding you on his arm like you’re the newcomer while he makes flawless conversation with people you’ve known for years. you’re conscious enough to greet them, making small conversation with those that you’re closer with. still, you can’t be bothered, and your fingers get antsier against his belt loop the closer you get to the bathroom.

you’re right there, and with your incessant tugging at his overly long cape-like blazer, you know he gets the message. he’s given you that calm down look at least a hundred times, thick eyebrow raising with darkened eyes, but he’s only making it worse. he helps make your way there, and before you even fully step in the door, your hands are all over him, feeling him up over his clothes, hands starvingly gripping at his half hardness in his slacks.

he picks you up, large hands gripping your hips as he sets you down on the marble counter. his lips are on yours like a magnet, moving with a desperation that really emulates the feeling of reuniting after weeks of fittings and shoots. he’s so cool, composed, but you know the time apart’s been torturous for him, if the voice messages he’s left you in response to the photos you’ve sent during fittings said anything.

“you just can’t wait, now can you?” his voice is husky, rumbling against you as he very gently bites at your neck.

you slide his outerwear off his shoulders, pulling him closer to you by the waistband on his pants. with the slit in your dress, you push all the fabric to the side so your legs can move freely, wrapping around him to keep him close. “cheollie, it’s been weeks.. i need you so bad, right now…” you whine, pushing your hands under his clothes to feel his bare skin. it eases the buzzing in your veins, changing it to pure desire that floods your underwear as your fingers glide over the hair under his belly button.

“we don’t have much time in here..” he runs his hand through his hair, cursing when he remembers where he’s at, looking in the mirror to put it back. his sleeve falls a little, and the glint of his watch catches your eye. so expensive, so him, it makes him all the more attractive. “i’ll help you, baby, we gotta be quick, okay? that sound good?” he asks, one hand sliding up your leg as he leans down to kiss you.

you nod, “please, cheollie, i need it..” your voice is tiny, soft, and you give him the sweetest look ever to help sway him. he only looks down at you, fingers teasing your waistband, eyebrow raised expectantly. you whine, “please, daddy… i’ll take anything you give me, jus’ can’t wait anymore..”

he chuckles lowly. “thank you, princess, for asking so nicely..”

his head dips down to the crook of your neck, leaving soft kisses all over your skin and a trail of cherry red lip stain. he pulls up his sleeves, revealing his toned forearms, and you can’t see much with his body in the way, but the cool metal gliding against your thigh makes them twitch.

he pulls your underwear to the side, a shaky sigh of his own sounding when he comes in contact with your heat. you’re dripping, you have been since you got here. it’s so tempting to get down on his knees and taste you, he wants to so bad, but someone would definitely notice if the lower half of his makeup had been wiped off.

“you’re so wet, baby.. you like the look that much?” he asks, teasing, thumb rubbing over your clit. even the gentlest touch has your head spinning, the little mhm you respond to him with sounding extra desperate.

seungcheol’s fingers push into you, watch band jingling as he gently thrusts them into you. the glint of all the rocks embedded in it shine under the dim lights. it’s so pretty, and the way your slick spills onto your thighs and spreads onto the piece makes his pants all the tighter. same with his rings, ones he didn’t bother taking off before touching you.. they’re cold as they touch your skin, pushing against your entrance with every curl of his fingers. another addition to his expensive look, so pretty and dirtied by your arousal.

your body is burning, so overwhelmed by seungcheol’s intoxicating scent, his oh so enticing jewelry, and the way he works you open like it’s nothing. you’re quivering, biting into your fist to keep quiet, rolling your hips into his hand, clit rubbing against the heel of his palm.

“so good, cheollie, gonna cum soon..” you whimper, holding his thick forearm in your hands.

he kisses your temple, so sweet and tender compared to his vigorous, vulgar movements between your legs. he knows what he’s doing, pouting and cooing at you as if your legs aren’t quivering against his sides.

“i know baby, i can feel it. you can let go, i’ve got you.” he kisses you, nice and deep against your lips, tongue dipping into your mouth and swallowing all the noises that try to escape.

the sounds filling the bathroom are so vulgar, the squelching of your boyfriend’s fingers inside you, blending with your lips smacking and the little moans that slip out. it’s so hot, and the coil in your lower half is impossibly tight. you know seungcheol is just as into it, his gaze locked onto your entrance and all the pretty gems on his wrist shining as he fingers you. his cock is throbbing, pushing against his pants, leaving very little to your imagination.

“cum, baby, we have to go back out soon.. don’t wanna get in trouble..” he whispers, teeth pulling at your earlobe, and his deep voice teasing your eardrums is all it takes for you to break.

your back arches, face scrunched in a silent scream as you’re pushed over the edge. seungcheol’s fingers are stuck, your walls squeezing him impossibly tight, free hand rubbing your clit to help you ride out your orgasm. he hums, licking his lips at the sight, hovering over you as you come down.

slowly, he pulls his fingers out, observing your mess before pressing them into your mouth. he mumbles something about the price of his rings, and your tongue swirls over them to clean them up as best you can. once done, he straightens you up and helps you off the counter.

it’s seemingly perfect timing, because nearly half the guests are suddenly rushing in. you smile, hiding your face in his shoulder when one of your friends raises an eyebrow at you. it’s then that you remember to relay to your boyfriend that it’s time for the annual bathroom photo, one everyone squeezes into when you’re not really even allowed to take it. you and him are in the front, and you stand in front of seungcheol to hide his boner before the camera clicks. his hands are on your waist, and after the photo is sent to you later in the night, you can observe it a little further. you’re both so beautiful, all flushed and serving the most gorgeous face, but also so unbelievably fucked if that photo ever gets posted.

svt 🏷️ @coquettejunnie @prettymoles

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sweetiechenle · 16 days ago

Text

reading between the lines ✦ jeno

pairing: collegestudent!literatureprodigy!jeno x afab!collegestudent!scienceandmathgenius!reader

summary: jeno was the biggest problem you've ever had to solve, but for him you weren't quite an open book either.

w.c: 9.4k

warnings: mdni 18+, MATH, i did so much research i feel like i need to cite my sources, thank you quizlet, angst, hurt and comfort, frenemies to lovers, fluff, jeno and y/n argue a lot and yell at each other, teasing, misunderstandings, YEARNING, kissing, make-ups and confessions, plot WITH porn, love making very intimate, hard with feelings and refuse to listen to each other, unprotected sex (i better not catch y'all doing this), praising, crying, begging, groveling, pet names (baby), oral (f receiving), creampie (YUM), softdomtop!jeno (just as god intended), crack/humor, scientific talk because smart (i never took bio in college), if i forgot anything pls lmk. reblogs and feedback appreciated ♡ fiction ≠ reality. HAPPY BIRTHDAY JENO!!!

‘WHAT’ you gasped, not noticing you had barked it out until everyone turned around and glared at you.

‘i’m sorry?...’ your professor had stopped everyone to bring attention back, she gave you a quizzical look, ‘is there a problem?’

you shook your head, still surprised by your sudden outburst, ‘n-no, i apologize’ you hung your head in shame, red blooming on your cheeks from embarrassment. you had been dreading today, your world literature 1 professor had told you all a week ago that you would be paired up with a partner for your first project. your major in biology and minor in actuarial mathematics required some literature classes to help with ‘scientific writing and understanding’ as your advisor put it. so you figured world literature 1 was the easiest choice, it turned out to actually be hell on earth. your weakest subject was english and literature, you were never a reader growing up unless it was about different sciences, but you always opted for documentaries and videos than reading. growing up, you’d always dread english class, anxiously waiting for whatever science and math class you could have next.

when you tell people that your favorite subject is math and then science they would laugh and usually end it with an ‘i wish’, that was your english and history, you wish you could understand it better, but it always seemed impossible. what you were least expecting was getting paired with the best literature student you knew, jeno. he annoyed you at times, acting like a pretentious asshole going around and quoting shakespeare and some other century-dead author. when you went and quoted pythagroas near him it was now apparently a problem, you two bickered back and forth in class during group introductions about greek philosophers for almost an hour, debating if aristotle was more of a math genius or a linguistics expert.

after the heated discussion, jeno told you ‘i love a good debate, you have some crazy opinions though’ he ended up giving you his phone number. it was only the first week of classes, your first ‘friend’(?), you texted him that night, but no response came. the next week you were struggling with questions your professor had given you all to go with a reading.

you texted jeno:

‘hey is this correct? *PICTURE ATTACHED*

his response chimed on your phone five minutes later:

‘no’

and that was the only response you got, no help, no explanation, you didn’t even know what was wrong with your answer to begin with. fuck this, you ended up calling him, to your surprise he answered with a ‘what?’

you didn’t mean to blow up on him, but it just came out, ‘why can’t you be nice to me for one second and help me with this student homework?’

he sighed, making your ear vibrate with the sound, ‘take back what you said and i’ll help you’

you grumbled but obliged, ‘this homework and reading is not stupid, now please help me’

you guys ended up talking on the phone for almost two hours, discussing different themes from the reading, mostly arguing about who was right, but in the end jeno helped you get answers that were good enough. he talked you through the questions and the actual themes of the reading, the elements, and showed you how to better analysis pieces of literature. you were eternally grateful but absolutely mortified at the same time.

after that phone call, you were psyched, finally finding someone that could help you pass. you were always the person in math classes that everyone went to, you didn’t have to be that person for others anymore. although you remember all the emotional baggage and difficulty when trying to help others study and understand formulas, you wouldn’t ask much of jeno, only when you really needed it.

two weeks ago you found him in the library, doing homework with books scattered around him. the first thing you noticed were glasses that he had never worn before, big frames making his eyes look much bigger in such a cute way. you figured if you asked he wouldn’t mind if you joined him, and you figured that if you asked in an even nicer way, he could help you with the literature homework.

‘hey jeno!’ you greeted him, walking up to his table, he looked up, pink lips still in a straight line, ‘would you mind if i joined you?’

‘i guess not’ he shrugged and moved some of his books out of the way for you, now sitting across from him you smiled slightly and got out your own homework. abstract algebra was your favorite class so far this semester, you never thought getting homework would make you so giddy. you couldn’t believe some people found it excruciating, while it was just a ‘fun activity�� for you. you and jeno continue work in silence, you would steal glances every once in a while, his eyes scanning over the paper as he scribbled down notes and highlight sentences. eyebrows knitting together and whispering out words in order to analyze everything perfectly. you thought it was cute, his lips would curl up into a smile after every question got answered. sitting in front of him, you could see the perfect slope of his nose, his broad shoulders slouched as he leaned into the desk, his large hand brushing his black hair back sporadically. the golden ratio had nothing on him.

not long after the trance jeno left you in, you finished your math homework and now it was time for your enemy: literature. you looked up and glanced at jeno who was writing notes down, ‘hey’ he lifted his head, ‘do you think you could help me with this?’ you motioned down to the paper in front of you, he followed and noticed your blank page compared to his one that was filled.

‘did you even try?’ he questioned, ‘it looks like you haven’t even started’

‘well’ you started with a sheepish smile, ‘i did do the reading, but i could barely understand any of it’

he sighed, his hands reaching under his glasses so he could rub his eyes, ‘okay, and what part did you not understand?’

you grabbed your packet of papers and flipped until you found the sentence, reading out loud, ‘his sense of her inferiority—of its being a degradation—of the family obstacles which judgment had always opposed to inclination, were dwelt on with a warmth which seemed due to the consequence he was wounding, but was very unlikely to recommend his suit’, you looked up at him, offering the best pleading eyes you could muster.

he slightly rolled his eyes, ‘so, basically darcy should put away his pride of being in a higher ranking than elizabeth, but he cares more about her status than love. even while he is proposing, he still looks down on elizabeth and wants her to feel grateful that he is even considering her as a wife’

‘oh, i never thought of it that way’ you mumbled, looking down at your paper again.

‘don’t they teach you stuff like this in high school? god, i fear for your grade when we actually have to read and analyze a whole book and not just passages for exercises’

the sentence was a stab to the heart, taken aback you said nothing as shame burned through your body. growing up you’d have teachers, friends, and your parents comment on your lack of understanding for english and literature, but you’ve never heard a remark like this. it cut deep, you opened and closed your mouth, unable to give an actual response, incapable of making any snide comeback, you gathered your things, got up and walked away from him. before he started to see the tears that made its way down your face.

you avoided jeno as much as you could, you sat nowhere near him in your shared class, never looked in his direction in the courtyard and started taking different routes to other classes. it was working out great for the most part, that was until he had transferred into your biology ‘unity of life’ class three weeks into the semester, at the very last minute of course. rumors were going around that a lot of students had transferred out of his previous one due to it ‘being too hard’ and that the professor ‘was a nightmare’ and he needed a natural science requirement for his major, secondary education if you could remember correctly.

seeing him walk through the door of one of your favorite classes was a different type of personal hell, and you were having a great day so far. you softly groaned, trying to resist the urge to roll your eyes in annoyance. your desk partner seemed to catch on, jaemin turned to you, ‘whats wrong? forgot to do last nights homework?’

you turned towards him, ‘never, i was so excited for this assignment, i finished all the questions as soon as i got home… it’s just… that guy, the one who just walked in’ you glanced back to his lab table, jaemin followed with his eyes, ‘i’m in his literature class and he’s nothing but an egomaniac, basically called me dumb for not understand some passage from a book’

the blond haired boy frowned, ‘he might know some books, but wait until he gets a taste of a real challenge, he transferred too late into the semester, he’s fucked’. your lips twitched up into a smile. you met jaemin the first day of class, introducing himself as a veterinarian science major with a minor in biology. you two became quick friends after you got him coffee one morning, you ended up with two cups after the cafe got your first order wrong. he was nothing but thankful, long discussions in class that lead to topics that never related to science. you got to know him pretty well, often texting and meeting up for study groups with other students from class, you both always paired up in class whenever prompted.

‘that’s fair, would be satisfying to watch him struggle’ you whispered.

he giggled, ‘god you sound like such a sadist’

the professor pulled up his notes as he prepared for the beginning of class, ‘takes one to know one’

you opened your notebook to the current lesson: the cytoskeleton. the professor went through the slideshow while you happily took notes on cells and its structure and stabilities within the cytoplasm. once the professor was done with the lecture, he started asking students questions, seeing if they were paying attention.

‘okay, now what is a delicate coil held together by hydrogen bonding between every fourth amino acid?’ he looks over his roster of students, ‘jeno! why don’t you answer this for us’

on cue, everyone turned to watch him, his head shot up from his notebook in surprise. he obviously looked unprepared, hands nervously pushing his bangs back. ‘oh… um, i don’t know i’m sorry professor, i transferred late into this class and still need to catch up’ his hair looked wild as the tips of his ears shone a bright red.

the poor professor sighed, ‘does anyone want to help jeno out?’

you immediately shot up your hand, ‘y/n?’

you smiled dramaticly, before another breathe you answered, ‘alpha helix’

‘yes, thats correct! great job y/n… now you all need to pay attention, this will be on our first exam coming up in two weeks’ he went on about amino acids and different elements. jaemin leaned into you, ‘nice’ he whispered, a smile on his face. yeah, that would show jeno what you could do.

you peeked back at jeno who whispered ‘two weeks!?’ to himself looking distressed, you felt a pang in your heart. perhaps it wasn’t fair, stuff like this was never taught in secondary school science classes, obviously he was going to struggle. you weren’t going to seek him out and offer help though, he knew science and arithmetic were your strong suits, it was his turn to come running, beg for forgiveness and ask for help.

speak of the asshole, and it shall fart, jeno texted you later that night.

‘hey…’ you scoffed, the audacity of this guy, you resisted the urge to text him back a ‘you should know this already right?’

you texted back a simple ‘what?’

he immediately answered, ‘do you think you could help me with this bio homework and maybe study together for the exam ｡°(°.◜ᯅ◝°)°｡’. shameless.

giving him the benefit of the doubt, you relented. maybe it was an off day for him, ‘i guess, meet me in the library tomorrow, and we’ll start’ he hearted the message and that was the end of the conversation.

you woke up early the next day, grabbing every notebook you had kept over the years that could help jeno. you texted him right after noon, ‘this is an all day affair, meet me in an hour and bring me a caramel macchiato. don’t be late, pride & prejudice wasn’t written in a day’ he liked the message as a response. you left your dorm and headed to the library, setting up a space for a long study session. jeno comes right on time, with two coffees in his hand.

he places the bigger cup down in front of you, ‘large caramel macchiato, with extra caramel, extra vanilla, and extra drizzle’

you look up at him and give him a modest smile, grabbing the drink and taking a sip from the straw and swirling the ice around the cup, ‘thank you, lets get started’ he nodded and pulled out the chair next to you and sat down.

you got out all your notebooks, his eyes widened making you giggle, ‘jesus christ dude, how many notebooks do you have for this class?’

‘well, not all of them are from this class, i brought some from previous classes that i think could help you’ you handed over a stack of notes, which he begrudgingly took. ‘okay, now lets get started…’

you two had spent hours discussing carbohydrates, cellulose, and enzymes. sometimes arguing back and forth about answers, ‘okay so, a system of membranes that modifies and packages proteins for export by the cell?’ you asked jeno as he flipped through his notes.

‘um… integrins?’ he answered, totally unsure of himself in the process.

you smiled, ‘not quite, its the golgi apparatus, integrins are cell-surface receptor proteins… crazy how you don’t remember this from basic biology classes…’ you mumbled the last part.

but of course he still caught it, ‘what was that?’

you shrugged your shoulders, ‘i mean we learn about cells and stuff in secondary school… everyone knows that the golgi apparatus is the packaging and distribution center of the cells, i mean everyone talks about how the mitochondria is the power house of the cell, is that the only thing you remember from biology?’

his eyebrows shot up in surprise, ‘oh? so that's what this is about?’ he smirked, ‘you’re still upset about what i said last week aren’t you?’

your gaze diverted from his line of sight, thankful you wore your hair down this morning so he wouldn’t see the pink burning on the tips of your ears. ‘no… i’m just saying’

‘...saying almost the same exact thing i said?’ jeno smiled, and his eyes turned into crescent moons, happy that he caught you in the act, ‘understandable… well, uh, if you help me, i’ll help you’

you crossed your arms and narrowed your eyes at him, ‘not until you apologize, not everyone can be as good as you in literature’

‘okay, i’m sorry, you are a genius in math and science, now please agree’ jeno pleaded.

‘fine’ you answered.

another week passed and jeno finally felt comfortable taking the exam, on the other hand your literature professor started talking about a project for that class. jeno reassured you that he would help you in the best way he could, he helped you with literary analysis, notations, and rhetoric. you ended up getting an 85% percent on the most recent homework, excited to show jeno you made your way to the classroom.

‘so, jeno, i’ve been seeing you hanging out with that y/n person in our class’ you stopped before the entrance to the classroom, ‘they literally know nothing about literature and refuse to learn, how could you put yourself through that?’

‘oh, well, um, i don’t know, i’m just helping them with some stuff’ jeno answered. you peeked inside, he was with two other students, a girl and a boy, sitting together in a group.

‘must be pretty frustrating, i don’t know why they are even in this class, fucking moron, am i right?’ the girl responded and you could hear the others, but jeno, laugh.

you could feel your heart break as your mind begin to buzz. eyes watered, and you thought back to your discussion with jaemin, of course you guys were poking fun at jeno too, but nothing this extreme. ‘i mean, i guess one could think that, but everything about th-’ you couldn’t listen anymore, turned your heels and stormed off. stopping at the end of the hallway to through your graded paper away in anger and humiliation. after everything you both did for each other, it made your blood boil in anger and betrayal, you had to get back home. you paced to your dorm, keeping your head down so no one would notice you and your state of mind right now. skipping one literature class wouldn’t hurt.

so it did, and now here you are, sitting in your literature class with the professor reading out the pairings for the first project. for the rest of the week and over the weekend, you had ignored jeno’s texts and calls, you decided you were finally done with his games. ‘y/n and jeno’ the professor read out to the class.

‘WHAT’ you gasped, not noticing you had barked it out until everyone turned around and glared at you.

‘i’m sorry?...’ your professor had stopped everyone to bring attention back, she gave you a quizzical look, ‘is there a problem?’

you shook your head, still surprised by your sudden outburst, ‘n-no, i apologize’ you hung your head in shame, red blooming on your cheeks from embarrassment.

your professor nodded and resumed her list of partners, after she announced to the class, ‘now sit with your partners and discuss what you all want to do for your projects for the rest of class’

you groaned, you weren’t ready to face jeno yet, you probably never would be. you never wanted to see or speak to him ever again, you shuffled to his seat, taking your time to get over to him and sit down.

‘hey’ he said, ‘you’ve been ignoring me this whole week, whats up?’

fake ass bitch, you thought, he didn’t care, ‘nothing, just not a good week i guess’

he frowned, ‘damn, well, if it makes you feel better, i got a 90% on my first bio exam!’ he beamed, ‘so at least now you know your hard work is paying off’

‘that’s great, glad you’ve been getting at least something out of this’ you deadpanned.

he gave you a quizzical look, but decided to drop the subject, ‘so, for the project i was thinking about covering the tenant of wildfell hall’

you literally didn’t care and let him pick whatever, ‘yeah that’s fine’

his eyes narrowed, giving you a weird look again, ‘okay… so, the book has themes of double standards, religion, morality, and love. i can send you passages that we can cover for our project…’. jeno went on for the next thirty minutes with only little nods and comments from you, agreeing to anything he had to suggest. all you wanted to do was leave, once the professor dismissed class that's what you did, picking up your backpack and storming off with jeno still talking.

you rushed down the hallway, ignoring the calls coming from jeno behind you. with his crazy athletic built he eventually caught up to you, grabbed your shoulder and spun you around. you gazed up at him, he stared down at you, looking for any answer he could find. ‘what is your problem? i thought you’d be happy we were paired up?’ he started interrogating you.

you sighed, almost giving up, ‘jeno, can we just meet up later and talk about it? i’m exhausted right now’

he sighed and his hands fell from your shoulders, ‘i’ll text you’ he nodded, and you turned around and left. once at your dorm you threw your backpack to the side and climbed into your bed, taking a well needed nap. a few hours later, your phone vibrating next to you pulled you out of dream land.

3 missed texts from jeno:

‘y/n, are you able to come over to my apartment soon?’

‘plz stop being so stubborn its annoying plz just talk to me’

‘here’s the address lmk when ur on the way’

you texted him back:

‘sorry i was taking a nap’

‘i can be there in a bit’

you got up and got ready, grabbed your backpack and left for jeno’s. once you got there it took you a good five minutes to have the courage to knock on his door. hesitant you tenderly knocked on the door, after a second he opened up the door and let you inside without another word. he was in shorts and a sleeveless t-shirt and smelled immaculate, you gulped, raking your eyes over his body, strong arms and long legs, a face without imperfections. your heart burned in anger and panic, angry that he was so gorgeous it pissed you off, panic because all you could think was what the fuck am i doing right now? ‘do you want to sit down? i saw you brought your backpack, we can work on some stuff if you want?’

you nodded, walked over to the couch and plopped down, grabbing your backpack you opened it and got your laptop out, pulling up the notes from your calculus 2 class. jeno joined you on the couch, sitting a little bit to close for comfort, but you said nothing. his bare leg brushed against your clothed one, sending a buzzing sensation all throughout your body, trying your best to ignore him you stayed focused on your screen.

question 1: x³ + 2x² - 6z = 4 - 2y²

without a second thought you typed in the answer:

r³cos³0 + 2r² - 6z = 4

submitting it you smiled as the green checkmark popped up, correct on the first try. ‘damn, that’s crazy’ jeno broke the silence, you glanced over at him.

‘what?’ you said turned back to your laptop.

‘i literally understood none of that and you got it on the first try!? that’s literally fucking insane’

you laughed at his outburst, ‘it’s nothing really, it was kind of easy, just plug in the following x and y polar conversion formulas into the equation where possible, then you just rewrite everything and use the formulas to convert the equation into cylindrical coordinates’

jeno howled in laughter, which was contagious enough to make you laugh, ‘that’s insane, you’re amazing’

you cocked your head to the side, intrigued by his word choice, ‘oh? am i?’

his demeanor changed, the air felt heavy as he calmed down and moved closer to you. he leaned in, and you panicked, he glanced down at your lips and back up to your eyes. his long eyelashes met his cheeks, you followed suit and closed your eyes, ignoring the way your mind is screaming at you not to do this. heart says otherwise, as you could hear it beat in your ears, whole body buzzing as his pink, soft lips brushed against yours.

jeno moved in deeper, teeth clinking together as you ravaged your mouth, he was a starved man, and you were the last meal he would ever receive. it was warm and sensual, he reached around your waist and roughly pulled your torso into his. his nose bumped into yours as he moved his head slightly for better access, laptop completely abandoned to the side your arms lifted to his biceps, squeezing hard as you let out a soft moan. you broke the kiss as you pressed against his arms, your forehead leaned on his as you both caught your breath, between pants he smiled and laughed, you did not. anxiety ran your blood cold as now all you could think of was what he had said in the classroom about you. was this all a joke?

‘jeno…’ you started, and his smile faltered, ‘i can’t do this’ you stood up and grabbed your laptop and shoved it haphazardly into your backpack, heatedly rushing out of his apartment and down the hall to the entrance. again you ignored jeno as he called after you, his footsteps echoing behind you. you pushed the heavy door open and the air hit you with the wind flying through your hair. continuing down the lamp-lighted street, the boy was still trying to catch up to you.

‘y/n please, we forgot to talk about it’ he addressed your almost non-existent figure fading into the darkness.

he was hopeless by now, but still refused to give up, he moved again, ‘y/n!’

you stopped and turned around, walking up to him his build now growing hazy as water pooled in your eyes. ‘you wanna talk about it? you WANT to talk about it? FINE, you are such a stuck-up asshole, thinking i’m so stupid because i don’t have the best grade in our lit class. laughing about it with your friends when they call me a moron! you think you’re so great you didn’t even know what the chemical symbol was for sulfur, FUCKING SULFUR JENO’ you were yelling at this point, jabbing your finger into his chest with every emphasis in your anger. ‘you think you can play me in some fucked up game you have going on in your head, keeping me around so you can feel better about yourself and use me for help so you could pass an exam, i know i’ve asked you for help before, but at the end of it, all i wanted to do was be your friend, you could’ve said no, but i couldn’t. you gave me no choice but to give in with the deal that you’d help me in return, and you know what? i needed the help, badly. and you knew that and used it in a discussion with your friends that laughed at me because of it, you know how that made me feel? like absolute shit, i wanted to be your friend but all you have ever done was use me and hurt me, and guess what? you don’t have to fear for’ fingers motioning air quotations, ‘my grade because i got a good grade on my homework thanks to you, so thank you jeno! i really appreciate the help, i hope it really boosted your ego, maybe you can go fucking write a book about it or something, i don’t know and i don’t care, but i’m done’ your face was probably beet red at this point, while angry tear's avalanche down your face, you hastily whipped your face and snot that escaped during your outburst. his face focused into view, he was so pretty, and that made you tear up all over again, he could have been different.

he looked defeated, frustrated as his fists clenched into balls and relax over and over, ‘y/n, please let me explain, i di-’ you stopped him, placing your hand in front of his face.

‘do the math jeno, the probability that i would ever hear you out is slim…’ you turned and started walking away, briefly glancing back, he was still in the same spot. ‘it’s S by the way, the symbol for sulfur, maybe now you’ll remember it when you think back on this night… not so proud after all’ your voice cracked at the last sentence as your heart wrenched and stomach mangled, tears breaking through yet again.

you left him there.

you decided not to tell jaemin about what happened, but jeno’s absence was evident. you couldn’t sleep, all that replayed in your nightmare was his soft lips brushing against yours, and you swore you could still feel his strong arms pulling you forward, into him. the feeling that gave you clawed at your heart, beating you down every single time you closed your eyes and pictured his face smiling at you, laughing at you, annoyed at you. anything he gave you, you would take, no matter how much it broke you down. you liked him, no, you like him. even after everything he’s done, you still held a soft spot for him in your fractured heart. all the phone calls that turned into facetime when he would ask for help with math, and you had to show him the steps of a problem. laughing every time you would shake trying to hold your phone steady as he jokingly squawked, ‘keep still!’ when he would read passages to you over the phone late at night, and you’d have fallen asleep to his tender voice before he could even explain the motif. it had only been 5 weeks of class, but it felt like you had known him longer, despite your differences in subjects you both eventually subsided the arguments with long discussions and debates on why one answer was right and how the other was wrong. revelations that came to light after hours of going back and forth.

you stood in the shower, blankly staring at the white ceramic wall in front of you as droplets rained down. you thought about the day you and jeno were studying in the library, renting a study room within because you figured the discussion would be heated. it ended up in a feverish battle between the differences of cell adhesion and cell migration. by the end of it you were standing up, hands pulling at your roots in irritation trying to explain it to the boy sat down in front of you with a shit-eating grin adorning his face. ‘y/n, y/n, stop, stop, please, i can’t take it anymore’ he laughed, clutching his stomach, ‘i got it, while they are tightly associated, cell adhesion provides structural support and stability to tissues, while cell migration is the directed movement of cells from one location to another’

your arms dramatically dropped to your sides, ‘YOU KNEW THIS WHOLE TIME’ pointing, you accused him.

he laughed again at your reaction, ‘i just love seeing you like that, it’s cute, you know i just love a challenge’ he exclaimed going back to his notes.

you laughed to yourself, recalling the moment of the playful banter and subtle flirting that slipped out on occasion. you giggled, howled, and snorted a little too much at the memory, which silently followed into your heart sinking to the bottom of your stomach, the shower masking the uncontrollable sobs that carried through every limb, appendage, and bone.

jaemin went on and on about some story about his roommates, you paid barely any attention, eyes glued to the door as you waited to see if he would show up. the blond boy slurred his words, leaning into you now, trying to get you to look at him. you turned your body, he was giving you a pouty face with big, shining eyes, ‘i asked you a question y/nnie. were you even listening to me?’ he tugged on the sleeve of your hoodie, his strength made you feel like a rag doll.

‘i was… and the answer is yes?’ you said, unsure about whatever he was yapping about.

he beamed and clapped playfully, ‘yippie! i knew you could use a pick-me-up, i promise it’ll be fun, the party is saturday so clear your schedule, i’ll pick you up’

your shoulder shook as you lightly laughed at his theatrics, rubbing your temple in exasperation as to what you just got yourself into, ‘sounds like fun’. you barely noticed jeno walking in out of the corner of your eye. he looked worse than you did, a hoodie with a stain, sweats that looked they were able to fall apart, mis-matched socks and unkempt hair. he kept pushing his glasses up his nose and rubbing his tired eyes. your heart skipped a beat when you noticed his dark circles that almost matched yours, his being a little worse for wear. before he could catch you staring, you quickly focused your attention to the professor starting class, going through the roaster and continuing the lecture on cells.

‘can anyone tell me the variations in cell types? jeno, got an answer?’ the professor smiled at him, everyone turned to spectate and wait for him to answer, except you.

‘um, prokaryotic and eukaryotic’ he dragged, sounding uninterested despite getting the question right.

‘yes! very good jeno’ the professor praised, moving on to the next question. you started to sweat, angry that he got it right and yet you were now holding on your high c- in literature class. how come he could now catch onto science but yet, you were still unable to grapple with the concepts of a victorian classic novel? or maybe it was the fact you had skipped every class this week, refusing to work with jeno on anything, you noticed the text and calls from him were dwindling three days after the confrontation, however everyday he sent pictures of his notes and analysis on the reading and how the project was going. as pathetic as it was, you continue to lay awake in bed nearly every night rereading his text from that night:

i know you are angry and probably hate me right now and that’s understandable, but i don’t want to give up on you, on us. do you think newton gave up on the laws of motion after he failed on the first or second try? you aren’t getting the whole picture, plz give me a chance to explain, i don’t even know if you are reading this, but if you are, plz hear me out you got it all wrong about that day in the classroom, and if it felt like i was using you, i’m sorry. that was never my intention, i just like being around you, you are always quick-witted and i was just trying to taunt you so you’d pay attention to me because i really like you, ig that backfired badly lol. anyway, i hope this will change your mind, and you’ll reach out, i’ll give you time.

followed by a very unserious message that you couldn’t help but smile at:

oh, i almost forgot, don’t worry about the project, but you could come to class, i’m starting to fear for your grade again (,,>﹏<,,) (only kidding!)

another biology class and 2 skipped lit classes pass and the weekend was finally brought upon the world. you held the pleasure of assisting jaemin to a party hosted by someone he knew from one of his health classes. it took forever for you to pick out a cute outfit, but opted for a sleeveless shirt and basic jean shorts and a pair of white sneakers you found buried in the back of your small closet. you carefully did your makeup, usually not taking it too far, but this was special, and you needed to feel like a bad bitch tonight.

jaemin showed up an hour later, deciding to walk to the house 4 blocks down, saying he wanted ‘to get turnt with you’ and that he refused to drink and drive. you agreed, walking sounded better than looking for a driver or someone having to stay sober throughout the night. you exited your building and found jaemin’s car in the lot, he climbed out to greet you and whistled, eyes eating up your form, ‘damn, you look hot’

you smiled bashfully, ‘thanks jaemin, even nerds can be hot you know?’

he turned to lock his car, ‘i mean, yes, but like, you always look cute, but this is like the freaky side of you, it’s different… it’s nice’

you cackled, ‘please never call me freaky ever again, i’m going to revoke your brain rot privileges’

he admitted defeat and dropped the conversation, you both now walked down the sidewalk in perfect silence with the sun now set, surveying the rows of houses in different stages of life in the moon glow. ‘it’s this one’ jaemin nudged you, stopping, he pointed to the house on the corner, you nodded and wrapped your arm around his, linking together so you immediately wouldn’t get lost in the sea of a potential crowd. he opened the old, green door, and you followed, as expected there was a good amount of people attending and as the night worn on you figured more would pile in.

jaemin turned to you, ‘do you wanna go find some drinks?’

‘yes, please’ you quickly nodded as he pulled you through the throng of people, trying to find the kitchen.

once you were there, the host of the party seemed to also be there, ‘jaemin! glad you could make it man’ they dabbed each other up and touched shoulders embracing in a ‘bro hug’.

‘hell yeah, no way i’d not come for the first party of the semester, i brought my friend along with me!’ he pulled you closer to him, now giving you the floor as all attention was pulled towards you, wincing as jaemin jabbed at your side, urging you to get closer to his friend.

‘hi, i’m y/n’ you said giving him a genuine smile, holding out your hand.

‘oh my, you are gorgeous, and you came with this sleaze bag’ he nodded towards jaemin who just playfully hit his friends shoulder, ‘i’m donghyuck, but everyone calls me haechan, its a pleasure to meet you’ he softly took a hold of your hand and bent down to give it a little peck, you giggled at the eccentric greeting.

jaemin tore haechan away, ‘alright, not too much now’ he joked, ‘it’s time for shots’ haechan clapped and guided you both to the kitchen island that was filled with different alcohol, he picked out a clear liquid and poured them into plastic shot cups he grabbed from a neat stack. jaemin lifted up his cup, ‘fuck pharmacology’ you snickered at his comment and raised your cup along with haechan who nodded in agreement. on cue, you threw back the cup and shuddered as the sweet nectar burned your throat. ‘hell yeah! another! at the end of the night i want to be able to forget about fucking blood urea nitrogen and blood glucose’ haechan laughed and poured another in all 3 cups. after that it was another, and then another, and after about 6 shots you tapped out and opted for a gin and coke that haechan was more than happy to make for you.

more time had passed than you thought as more people flooded the kitchen, wrecking havoc on the choices of liquor, haechan handed you your cup and jaemin motioned for you both to move to the living room. people were dancing, some were playing beer pong off in the corner, and others were chatting on various furniture. ‘want to dance a bit?’ he whispered in your ear because of the loud music that made the floor vibrate under your seat, you could feel it rattling your brain. giving him a silent nod he grabbed your hand and led you through the crowd, finding a spot and finding the rhythm of the song. you bobbed your head to the beat and moved back and forth with jaemin in front of you, you always thought he was attractive, but you saw him nothing more than a friend, you felt comfortable around him. you nursed your drink slowly, already somewhat tipsy from the shots, you didn’t want to get drunk too fast or blackout. jaemin grabbed your free hand and twirled you around, dramatically moved your joined hands with fever. you laughed along with him, indulging him in an embarrassing, yet fun dance that probably made you both look wasted to others.

his arm snaked around your waist, pulling you close much to your surprise, pleasanton’tkissmepleasedon’tkissmepleasedon’tkissme ran rampant in your mind as he leaned towards your ear ‘don’t look now, but a certain someone is staring at you from across the room, you let out a strangled breath.

‘do you know who it is?’ you whispered back.

‘jeno’ he mused and your lively spirited fell.

‘whats up? something go down with him?’ he pestered.

‘um, kinda, its a long story’ you faltered and jaemin frowned.

‘damn, that serious? his loss, he can look all he wants’ jaemin wanted to be lighthearted, make you smile again and keep jeno out of your mind. you were grateful as he pulled you into another whimsical dance, the joyful nature of his was infectious.

after a couple more songs had passed, you had downed your whole drink and let go of jaemin’s hand, ‘i’m gonna go find haechan and have him make me another drink, it was surprisingly superb’ jaemin nodded and said he would stay in the same spot for your return.

you hastily made your way to the kitchen, apologizing to others you had to push through. the small room was almost empty, haechan was nowhere in sight so you looked for a different drink. ‘having fun with jaemin?’ a voice boomed from behind you, one that you knew all too well. you slowly turned to find jeno smirking at you, leaning against the fridge adorned in a tight white shirt and ripped jeans, oh fuck this stupid earth, he just had to follow you here looking like that.

‘yes i am, actually’ you stated matter-of-factly.

his lips twitched up in amusement, ‘is that so?’ he moved in closer, eventually trapping you between him and the liquor table. jeno’s soft brown eyes met yours, searching for something inside, however, his eyes told you everything, hope, they screamed. his hand lifted towards your face, slowly brushed against the skin lighter than a feather, taking a piece of your hair and pushing it behind your ear, ‘so he wouldn’t mind this?’. his eyes fluttered closed as he bowed towards you.

before he could seal the deal, ‘jeno’ you stopped him.

he sighed, defeated, ‘just please talk to me, you said the probability was slim, but not zero, let me explain’ jeno begged, his large hands caressed your cheeks tenderly, they were soft and warm.

you could blame the alcohol as you finally let him speak his case, ‘fine, we can find somewhere private’

he smiled, eyes disappearing in relief. he grabbed your hand, leading upstairs and into an empty room, he closed the door behind him as you took a seat on the bed, ‘alright, grovel and explain’ you lifted your phone up to check the time ‘you have 10 minutes’

he gave you a smug smile, ‘that’s all i need baby, you know i love a challenge’ you rolled your eyes at his attempt to uplift the tension fogging the air. ‘that day in the classroom, you obviously didn’t stay long enough to hear what i had to say about you, at first i didn’t know how to respond being put into that position was hard, you didn’t ‘put me through anything’ though, i had nothing but fun with you, even if it was frustrating at times. we always figured it out. but when i heard what she said after i wasn’t just going to allow it, i said ‘yeah i guess one could say that’ because these people literally do not know you like i do, i finished with ‘but everything about that is completely untrue, they are willing to learn, but it's just taking longer than some of us who take a bunch of english and literature classes. if you got to actually know her you’d see how bright they actually are. a literal math genius and a real mastermind of science, could answer any question from the top of their head, it’s insane. so while we are strong in this subject, they are just stronger in other fields’ he explained, watching you intently. you wiggled under his gaze, making you feel same, but itched for him to go on, ‘i then told her that she should not speak on things she knows nothing about and left because i will not associate myself with someone who talks like that about people i care about’ he emphasized the last words carefully, grabbing hold of your hand and lifting you from the bed, ‘y/n, i’m so sorry, it was never my intention to hurt you, ever. i care about you so deeply, you show up in every romance novel i read, every poem i skim, the stories i write… it’s all you’ jeno gazed down at you, his eyes now searching for an answer, hope, and panic could only be found in his as you studied his features in the warm glow of the moon peaking through the window.

‘you really said that? you defended me?’ you questioned him quietly.

‘yes y/n, i would never let anyone hurt you, even if you aren’t in the room, because in that case, they hurt me too’

you hummed, the haze of your brain clouded any judgment you held, he was something different, the greatest math problem that needed to be solved. ‘thank you jeno, i guess it’s now my turn to apologize’

he chuckled at you, ‘no need baby’ you laughed softly, ‘now, can we pick up where we left off? you know, someone once told me that pride and prejudice wasn’t written in a day’ he wagged his eyebrows at you, moving you into an embrace as he kissed the top of your head. you held on tightly, holding him as you buried your face into his chest swallowing his scent so you could save it for later.

the hug ended, but he still held you close in his arms, ‘i guess i could pick up another chapter or two’ he laughed at your poor pun and drooped down, so his lips could meet yours. it was messier than the first kissed you shared with him, wet and heated as you could taste the soju on his tongue. he moved at a faster pace, devouring you like an animal, jeno walked you towards the bed, you gave in falling down with him, with him climbing on top of you, never breaking away. teeth on teeth echoed throughout the room as you moaned, his hands exploring every part of your body, making your core burn more and more.

jeno dipped down to attack your neck in kisses and sucking at the exposed skin, hands finding a way to his hair and tugging slightly at the intimate feeling of him being closer than ever. ‘please, tell me you’re mine, please want me’ he breathed out, the air softly hitting your ear, making the hair on the back of your neck stand up. he was desperate, kissing you anywhere he could and waited for you to answer.

‘y-yes jeno, i’m yours’ you choked out, ‘i want you in every way’ satisfied with your response he growled and his mouth met yours once more, ‘p-please touch me’ you begged frantically, needing anything to ease the sensation that pooled in the pits of your stomach.

jeno hummed, fingers brushing up and down your exposed stomach, ‘where baby? use your words, remember what i taught you?’ it was your turn to make demands now, wasting no time you grabbed his hand and brought it down between your legs, he cupped your vagina. you groaned, you needed more. jeno grabbed the waistband of your shorts and pulled them down and threw them behind him, the cool air hit your core making you rub your thighs together in order to find little warmth.

he carefully pulled your underwear down, wanting to savor the moment of finally seeing you bare, he gulped, ‘god, you have such a pretty pussy’ he took his hand and rubbed the sensitive skin, ‘so wet. just for me, right? all for me baby’ you cried out at his words. he inserted a finger into your weeping hole, making you gasp out in surprise at the feeling of just one finger filling you up dangerously. as he pushed back and forth your legs trembled, he added another finger and brought his head down to your core, ‘i bet you taste amazing’ was all he said before he dove in deep, his tongue against your clit as he drank up your juices and sucked on the flesh.

‘f-fuck’ you mewled, grabbed a hold of his soft, black hair in order to keep you grounded, with every thrust he made as he fucked with his mouth you tugged on his hair, pulling when you would feel the band about to snap, jeno groaned, loving the way you’d use him for stability.

he stopped and removed his face, you whined from the loss of contact as his fingers also found their way outside of you, he smiled ‘don’t worry, my pretty baby, i’ll take care of you’. he threw off his shirt nearly getting drunker with the way you were taking him in, he loved being adored by you, in such a calculated way that made sense in every story. you followed suit and removed your top and bra, baring naked in front of him and laid back on the bed as he admired you from afar, ‘you’re so beautiful’ he breathed, discarding his pants and underwear he crawled back on top of you, whispering sweet nothing's as he peppered your collarbone and breasts with kisses.

‘are you sure you want this? it might hurt a little at first, but i promise i’ll go slow until you tell me otherwise’ he towered over you.

your glassy eyes met his in reassurance, ‘yes, jeno i want this’ you confirmed everything for him. he quickly lined up his cock with your cunt and gently pushed inside, his eyes never leaving yours. your hands grasped around his muscled biceps, digging your nails into them when the pain was strong. once he bottomed out he stopped to let you get used to his size, you shared sensual kisses and sweet touches, jeno doing everything in his power to make you feel loved and safe at that moment going forward, that’s all he ever wanted to do. for weeks, he had been beating himself up for taking the teasing comments way too far at times, poking fun at something you were obviously insecure about, but you did the same, he figured it was kind of the thing you two had. in reality, he wanted to push you to do better, making comments like that so you’d work harder and prove everyone wrong. no one could work with you better than him, so he had gone out of his way to ask the pressor to pair you up on the project, also making the forced proximity making you talk to him after you stopped answering his calls and messages. he should have gone a better way about motivating you, but now that he had your forgiveness, he could work on better strategies.

‘jeno, you can move now’ you rasped out, still holding on his arms like an anchor with a boat. he pulled out and pushed back in, taking it slow as you moaned at the feeling of him filling you up to the brim, jeno picked up the pace, setting a steady rhythm as skin clapping together filled the room, ‘oh fuck, just like that’ your chest heaving up and down.

he slammed into with vigor, bitting your bottom lip as you opened your mouth to let out a breathless moan, ‘yeah? you like that? fuck, you’re so tight, literally sucking me in, i never want to leave this pretty fucking pussy’ he husked, he licked your lips and kissed your jaw as he grunted, setting a faster pace, making you cry out in pleasure. he grabbed your legs and opened them wider, giving him better access to go deeper into your abused cunt. you cried as the flame in your belly raged with a thousand fires, ‘keep your eyes on me baby’ jeno demanded, automatically making you swallow as you moved your eyes to meet his, blown out pupils filled with lust as your vision of him became blurry as blissful tears threaten to fall with every snap on his hips digging into you. you’ve had flings and hook-ups before, but nothing as profound as this, the eye contact, togetherness of him never backing too far away from your hold, you were being wholly consumed by jeno. everything right down to your core, he was all you could feel, taste, see, and think about.

‘o-oh my god’ you sobbed, hips jerking up at the feeling of the ripples burning through you, the coil in your stomach tightening, craving to break open, ‘m gonna cum’ you clenched around him, making jeno hiss above you at the feeling of tightness around his throbbing dick.

‘go on baby, cum for me,’ he whimpered as the feeling for him also grew intense, the way your cunt hugged his dick was making his mind spin. jeno mumbled incoherently ‘i’m so close baby, let go, you can let go, i got you’ from his words and the way he pounded into you made you snap, legs trembling as liquid gushed from your core and past his cock and dripped onto the sheets. light-headed and dizzy you cried out for jeno as your orgasm burst over you.

you clenched again, feeling overwhelmed by the euphoric feeling, ‘oh, fuck’ jeno cursed as he stilled inside of you, painting your insides with his seed, he groaned at the sensation of finally filling you up and properly claiming you as his and his alone. he stayed there for a couple of minutes inside of you. savoring the static of the overstimulation and pleasure of release. you winced as the hot liquid poured out of you when he pulled out, the emptiness of it all. jeno watched as his cum slide down your hole and onto the sheet, he scooped up the remaining liquid that rushed out of you and shoved it back into your clit with two fingers, making you cry at the sensitivity. ‘fuck that was… one of the best experiences of my life’ he caught his breath and plopped down facing you, he gently caressed your chin, bringing your head to his as he softly left kisses on your lips, ‘let me get you cleaned up baby’

‘m tired’ you whispered, barely able to keep your eyes open.

‘i know, but let me take care of you and get you dressed, i know theres extra clothes somewhere around here’ he started rummaging around the wardrobes, digging into them in order to find anything adequate. ‘aha!’ he put on a clean pair of underwear and sweats, ‘i’ll be right back baby’ he left the room and came back after for what felt like an eternity with a warm wash cloth and clean clothes, ‘these are mark’s girlfriends pj’s i’m sure she won’t mind,’ he hummed, wiping you clean, and dressing you in the soft, clean clothes. he picked you up so he could throw the covers back, tucking you in with a kiss on the nose, ‘you’re so cute’

you lazily smiled at him, settling into the sheets as you clung onto his warm frame, ‘who’s room is this by the way?’ you whispered as jeno shut his eyes.

‘mark’s. doesn’t matter. you’re my girlfriend now right?’ he leaned his head on yours.

‘mmm girlfriend yes. mark who?’ words fell from your mouth as you yawned, sleeping coming to find you soon.

‘mark, shark.’ he dismissed you, ‘just be ready for a stern talk when we wake up from the man himself.’ he kissed your head as you drifted off to sleep, the morning was the least of your worries now, you finally figured out the solution, the obvious answer being: jeno.

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