ME I WANNA REQUEST JENO TEACHING HIS GF TO PLAY GUITAR AND IT TURNS SMUTTY BUT LIKE CUTE AND ROMANTIC

ME I WANNA REQUEST JENO TEACHING HIS GF TO PLAY GUITAR AND IT TURNS SMUTTY BUT LIKE CUTE AND ROMANTIC SMUT CUS I FEEL LIKE TEACHING SOMEONE AN INSTRUMENT IS ROMANTIC

word count — 1.3k

smut, not proof read and written in like 10 mins so

inspo -

Backstage at the venue, the atmosphere buzzed with the electric energy typical of a night filled with music and revelry. Amidst the controlled chaos, you found a quieter space, bathed in the warm, soft glow of stage lights spilling through the side curtains. Here, you stood, bass slung low around your hips, dressed in an outfit designed to thrill—an audaciously short black leather skirt paired with a lace top that left little to the imagination, accentuating your cleavage and the smooth curve of your shoulders. Your makeup was glowing, with shimmering highlights that caught the light every time you moved, and your hair fell in loose waves that frame your face beautifully.

Jeno, dressed in a simple white fitted shirt that contrasted sharply against his dark jeans, exuded a casual, effortless charm. His hair was styled in a soft, tousled look that made him even more irresistible, especially as he flashed you a grin that spoke volumes of his adoration for you.

“So, you’re really going to teach me this time?” Jeno’s voice broke through your preparations, tinged with excitement and a hint of playfulness.

You nodded, feeling the electric tension between you two. “Yeah, but only if you promise to actually pay attention,” you teased back, meeting his playful gaze with a challenging sparkle in your own.

Jeno’s laugh was soft and inviting as he stepped closer, his hands finding your waist. “You have my full focus,” he whispered, his lips inches from yours, making your heart flutter with anticipation.

“Good,” you murmured, feeling his breath against your lips before turning your attention to the bass. “Let’s start with the basics. This is how you hold it properly,” you instructed, adjusting his hands on the guitar, your bodies brushing against each other.

Jeno nodded, his fingers awkward at first but gradually finding their rhythm under your guidance. “Like this?” he asked, looking up at you through his lashes.

“Exactly like that,” you replied, your voice softening. “You’re a natural.”

As the lesson progressed, your proximity made the air around you thick with tension. You corrected his posture, your body pressing lightly against his back, your breath hot against his ear. “You’ve got to relax more,” you whispered, and he chuckled, the sound vibrating against your chest.

“Relaxing isn’t exactly easy when you’re this close,” Jeno teased back, turning his head slightly to meet your gaze. The look in his eyes was playful yet filled with raw desire, mirroring the quickening pulse you felt within yourself.

“You think so?” you played along, letting your hands linger a bit longer on his, feeling the roughness of his palms. “Maybe this will help,” you suggested, your tone dropping to a seductive whisper as you guided his hand to strum a particularly deep note, letting the vibration ripple through both of you.

“God, I love how your hands look on this,” Jeno murmured, his gaze fixed on where your hands guided his. “But I keep imagining them elsewhere… like wrapped around my cock, squeezing tight.”

A shiver ran down your spine at his words, heat pooling low in your belly. “Imagine how distracted you’ll be when I really start to show you the good techniques,” you murmured, your lips barely grazing his earlobe as you spoke with a teasing lilt. The flirty undertone was unmistakable, inviting a more tantalizing kind of tension.

Jeno’s response was immediate, his hands tightening on the bass as he turned his head to capture your lips with his. The kiss was fiery, loaded with all the tension that had been building. His tongue swept into your mouth, dominating and exploring in equal measure.

As the kiss broke, you both were breathless. “Fuck the bass,” Jeno growled, setting the instrument aside carelessly. His hands found the hem of your skirt, fingers tracing the bare skin at your thighs as he looked into your eyes with unmasked desire. “I want you. Now.”

“Then take me,” you challenged, your own hands roaming over his chest, feeling the hard muscle beneath the soft fabric of his shirt.

Without another word, Jeno lifted you onto the table, your back lying amidst the scattered props. His hands were quick to push your skirt up, revealing more of your thighs, his touch scorching against your skin. “I need to taste you,” he said, voice rough with lust as he knelt before you, his breath hot against the lace of your underwear.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer. “Do it,” you urged, your voice a mix of command and desperation. Jeno obeyed without hesitation, his tongue and lips worshiping you through the thin fabric before he tugged them aside. The sensation of his mouth on you was electric, his tongue skilled and knowing exactly how to make you writhe and moan his name.

The buildup of pleasure was intense, spiraling towards release under his relentless attention. When you came, it was with a loud cry, your body arching off the table, clenching around the nothingness, craving something more substantial.

Jeno rose to his full height, his lips glistening with you as he unbuckled his jeans. “Your turn,” he said, the outline of his arousal clear and promising.

Eagerly, you switched positions, pulling him to you and freeing him from his constraints. “I want to feel you inside me,” you whispered as you guided him, positioning his cock at your entrance.

He pushed into you with a groan, filling you completely, the stretch and sensation driving a gasp from your lips. The rhythm he set was punishing, each thrust deeper and harder, aimed at hitting all the right spots. Your hands gripped his shoulders, nails digging in, as you met him thrust for thrust, the sound of skin slapping against skin mingling with your combined moans.

The edge was fast approaching again, the coil in your belly tightening. “Jeno, I’m—” you gasped, the words lost in the heat of the moment.

“I know, baby, me too,” he groaned, his thrusts becoming erratic as he chased his own climax. His eyes locked with yours, intense and full of an unspoken promise, as he drove into you with a ferocity that made your entire body quake. Each movement was a declaration, each moan a testament to the depth of his desire.

The room was filled with the sound of your labored breaths and the rhythmic pounding of his hips against yours. His hands gripped your hips tighter, pulling you into every thrust, ensuring you felt every inch of him.

Your climax crashed over you like a wave, overwhelming and all-consuming. Jeno followed soon after, his groan deep and drawn out as he reached his peak, his grip on your hips almost bruising. The warmth of him spilled inside you, a tangible proof of your shared passion.

As you both caught your breath, Jeno leaned down to press a gentle, lingering kiss on your lips, his forehead resting against yours. “I love you,” he whispered, his voice a tender murmur that wrapped around you as securely as his arms.

You smiled, your heart swelling with the depth of your feelings, mirrored so perfectly in his eyes. “I love you more,” you replied, pulling him into another kiss, slow and sweet, the kind that said everything words never could.

He chuckled, glancing over at the bass guitar resting against the wall. "So much for my bass lesson," he said with a smirk, his voice rough from exertion.

You laughed lightly, your fingers tracing the contours of his chest, still feeling the heat from his skin under your touch. "I think you've got enough hands-on practice for today," you teased, capturing the playful glint in his eye as your hands continued their exploration. The bass might have been silent, but the night's melody was far from over.

winds whisper naught but the truth // nct dream x f!reader

chapter one; to dream a dream of all that is yet to come

summary; the thing about myths, those stories passed from generation to generation with hushed whispers over a fire, is that they stem from truth. even distorted over time it still holds some of the sincerity at it's core. people that have otherworldly abilities walk the same earth as you, hidden in plain sight, ruling society without everyone knowing. but stories are just stories ... until they're not, until they're seven boys who you are suddenly entertwined with, flesh and soul.

word count; 1.5k

warning; ch; swearing, alluding to violence; series; violence, emotional manipulation, trauma, violent magic???

note; this was inspired by the smoothie trailers and icantfeelanything photobook. this is a work of fiction and doesn't represent the boys, pls remember that 😭✋️

The water reflected the colors of the sky, falsely painting itself in shades of orange. They say imitation is the highest form of flattery, but no matter how hard the water tries to mimic its mirrored counterpart, water is still water. It can mold into any shape or form it is forced into, play the part it was given, fit where it is wanted but it only takes the smallest amount of pressure to break the illusion, the water rippling and splashing in response, a reminder of what it is. If you were an element, you think you’d be water.

Perhaps that’s where your affinity for the element came from, or maybe it was the gentle beauty of it or maybe, just maybe, the violence it ensued despite its nature. Even in its gentlest form, soft waves cradling you in its cold embrace, it takes so little for a person to drown, so little for water to take the life it is attempting to nourish.

Sometimes you wonder if death would be a gentle embrace, would it cradle you like the water? Would it caress you like the wind? Warm you like the fire? Or would it be harsh and abrupt, like the earth crumbling from beneath your feet without warning?

You sighed, pulling your knees up to your chest, trying to shake away your thoughts of death. You closed your eyes, using your knees as a makeshift pillow. But the darkness that danced behind your eyelids was no friend to you, almost instantly transforming into the very image you were trying to escape, the very dream that has plagued you night after night.

The boy came into view first, as he always did. He was beautiful to look at, so much so that at times you tried to prolong this part of the dream just to fully take in his features. You never could, prolong it, the dream played out the same everytime, but by now you’ve had it so often you have every dip and curve of the strangers face memorized.

His face was soft and you liked to imagine, inviting, under different circumstances. He has full round cheeks and plush lips that look like they were made to smile. You wanted to see it, his smile, you bet it could light up a room. But all you saw was the grimace he tried to fight off, the crack that traced down his lip, begging to open back up with a fresh well of blood, the way his undereyes were dark and sunken in despite being clearly well fed, the hard look in his eyes. A stare so cold it made you uncomfortable despite it not being directed your way, no, the boy wasn’t staring at you, he was watching the man across from him.

They sat in a cold empty room with steel flooring and glass walls, each them sat on a steel chair of their own. The boy watched the man, the look of disdain heavy in his eyes, the man didn’t look up to meet his gaze. Instead opting to stare at his lap, sniffling and mumbling to himself, words you couldn’t make out.

A voice echoed out from an unseen speaker, “Now.” The boy's lip twitched at the command, he looked as if he wanted to refuse but his body seemed to work on muscle memory, responding to the voice immediately. He stood swiftly, making his way before the older man and kneeling before him. Only then did the man look at him but as soon as their eyes met, the man’s sniffling turned to sobs. His words absolutely incoherent as the boy finally spoke, “It will be alright.” His voice was soft and deep, the kind of voice that soothed.

The man’s sobs quieted back down to sniffles, then to deep breathes, and then nothing. He straightened his back, rolling his shoulders before he spoke, “Now get away.” He regarded the boy as if he was lower than the dirt beneath his shoes but the boy said nothing, only stood and retreated back to his seat.

The dream always ended the same way. You didn’t understand why. Why you dreamt this dream, what it meant, who the boy was. They were questions you were begging the universe for answers to.

ᯓ𖹭

Jaemin sat stiffly, his fists bunching the fabric of his pants so tightly his knuckles turned white. He attempted to steady himself with deep inhales through his nose, attempting to keep his overwhelming emotions at bay, keep the tears from escaping. He stared blankly, unseeing at the wall before him, habitually tuning out the conversation happening around him.

“Mr. Na.” The woman’s stern voice broke his trance, his eyes trailing away to meet hers. She leaned closer, looking into his eyes with such intensity it made him uncomfortable, but he didn’t move, he let her continue her search in silence. After what felt like agonizing hours, the woman hummed her approval, straightening her back and dismissing him with a wave of her hand.

“He is maintaining control over his emotions.” Jaemin wanted to roll his eyes, to scoff, to scream and rage, to throw something, anything, he wanted to do anything that they weren’t expecting of him, anything to show he didn’t belong to them. But he knew the consequences, perhaps better than most in his opinion, so instead, all he did was ball his fists at his side and bow his head as he was escorted back to the common area.

The day went by slow and monotonous, everything was muscle memory, a daze his body was living through. He could account the day if he was asked, but really it was merely half processed scenes that his eyes witnessed while his mind was lost in his anger. Truly that’s how he spent everyday, his mind trying to form an escape for him, to build him his own safe haven but everyday it failed. What was there to build, or imagine, when all you knew was fear and anger. He wanted to experience these ideas that, objectively, he knew existed but he couldn’t even begin to fathom.

Was it objective? Surely not everyone lives the same way he does, he’s been told about the lives of the mundanes. They all have, they’re taught about them, but no matter how much he knows that they exist and live such different lives he still can’t seem to wrap his head around something he’s never even seen.

Is it something he wants to see? He doesn’t feel as if he happy but what if he’s not meant to be. Really, truly, he shouldn’t be thinking about mundane. They’re beneath him, simple minded creatures with no sense of structure that would be lost without the guidance of the divines. Right ?

Yes, of course it’s right. That’s what he’s been taught, but still, he wants to witness it for himself. It’s not as if he’s going to run away, he doesn’t want to live amongst people like that. Structure and order make the world go round. Everyone has their place in society, everything would collapse if people just decided to forgo their roles based on whims.

But he’s not forgoing anything, he’s not abandoning his role, he’s just exploring, for a night, one night. No one needs to know but him, he’s really not doing anything wrong, just loosing a little sleep.

At least that’s what he told himself as he pretended to sleep, waiting for the night guards to retire to their posts before climbing out a window.

ᯓ𖹭

Jaemin was severely questioning himself as he wandered through the woods that surrounded his boarding school, he wondered how long it would take him to reach town by foot and if he would even get a glimpse of another person before he had to go back. He only had the darkness on his side, he needed to be back in bed before the sun rose. He walked and walked and walked until he doubted he would even see the town at this rate , time was fleeting and his feet could only take him so far.

But just as he started to feel that familiar tinge of disappointment in his chest, he spotted a house in the distance, making him freeze where he stood. This was what he wanted, right? He felt almost like a giddy child, but still his nerves were on edge. He slowly made his way closer, cautious but his curiosity driving him forward.

As he drew nearer, the house came into better view, it was a quaint two story cottage, built of pale wood and an array of stones, accented with blue paint in certain parts. It was lovely in a way Jaemin had never seen before, if someone had described it to him, he would have called it proof of the mundane’s lack of order, but to see it before him, it held a warmth and inviting presence unlike anything he knew.

They say, curiosity is the death of obedience, these thoughts were a sickness that plagued the minds of children, something that needed to be taught out of them. But now in this moment, he couldn’t help himself, he needed to see the house closer, it’s not as if any of the residents would be awake at this hour to see him wander their property, to hear the way the twigs and leaves crunched beneath his feet. No one would ever know he was there.

Do you wanna #pretzel ? 🥨

240517 JISUNG IG Update

"😎🤓🥸

I think I overdid it a little bit..zzzz"

Translated by deardream02 - SM_NCT

Voicemails from Jisung

"Hi... Please don't be mad at me but I forgot to ask you to bring home some cheese... Oh shit you're outside. That's why you didn't answer... Yeah I'm watching you from the window. You're so beautiful... Oh! You have my cheese! I love you!"

"Johnny hyung says I'm not romantic enough because I don't call you 'baby' or anything cute so... I think I could call you... Hmm... I don't know but call me back so we can brainstorm. I don't want you to think I don't have a crush on you anymore because I definitely still do."

"Hi, I love you. I can't remember if I said it before I left this morning but I don't want you to forget that I do... I love you a lot. A whole bunch. See you tonight."

"I was just calling because I was finally ready to have phone sex so that 'dude I'm taking a shit wait' text was... I'm not even hard anymore."

"Okay I lied I am. call me back please?"

"There's gonna be a solar storm next Thursday so since you work with a bunch of dumbasses, you can use this to convince some of them that you're a witch."

"I haven't seen my beanie and I'm not gonna say that you took it but I will say this... you're the last person I saw with it and I'm highly suspicious that you took it because you have a pattern and I'm onto you, you little shit."

JAEMIN + POISON // TDS3 IN SEOUL