#chenle × reader

[castleofclouds]

Dream Scenario when you call them “Bro, ”

In which you called them bro, and how they reacted to it, another smau? And I see some of you love this, so I'll do it again maybe later^°^

Masterlist.

[hyuckiestarz]

bf!dreamies when you send a risky text but another member has their phone

an; long time no see....hii.....this was requested...im going to disappear again...love u!

masterlist

[nightpoemz]

★☆*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡. . .｡.:*･' ૮ .◜◡◝ა '･*:.｡. . .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*☆★

bsf!dreamies down bad with liquid courage

an: i'm sorry… idk felt like apologizing in advance. minors dni! ★

masterlist

[nmhdreamscape]

bf!dreamies react to you posting a thirst trap to your socials

pairing | idol!dreamies x fem!reader

content | suggestive? smut? i don’t know what to call it but minors dni

notes | jeno fic is taking a little longer than i thought so here's this for the mean time! trying to psyche myself up to writing the actual smut bit >_<

masterlist

requests and asks are open!

[florihaei]

• ౨ৎ ────────── 𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐍 ₊ ˖ ་.

엔시티 드림 ꒰ 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮

• ( 1010 ) est.relationship 𓂃 bf dreamies! + kissing, pet names, suggestive / ( FLORIHAEI VALUT )

reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated!, phtots are not mine!!, credits to the rightful owner!!( there’s a rich joke in”haechans” and I don’t like it that much so sorry in advance!! florihaei taglist ୨ৎ

MARK LEE !

mark insisted on carrying everything, even your tiny purse. “babe i got it” you say reaching for your bag. he pulls it away with a grin, easily slipping the strap over his shoulder. “nope, to heavy for my baby girl”

you narrow your eyes at him, placing your hands on your hips. “mark baby.. it’s literally lighter than your phone”

he tilted his head, pretending to think. “hmm, it doesn’t matter, what if your body gets sore?, what if you get tired baby?” his voice was laced with amusement, but the way he tucks you under his arm and pulls you close has you smiling

“you’re ridiculous..” you muttered, though you don’t pull away.

“ridiculously in love with you” he corrects you, as he presses a soft kiss to your temple. “now let me be a good boyfriend and spoil my baby yeah?”

you sigh dramatically but you end up smiling even wider when he gives your cheek a squeeze.

-

HUANG RENJUN !

you reach for a cup on the top shelf, standing on your tippy toes and stretching as far as you could. beofre you could even get close, renjun appears behind you , easily grabbing the cup and placing it in your hands.

“what would you do without me?” he teases, resting his chin on your shoulder

“survive” you reply, turning to glare at him playfully

he scoffed, looping his arm around your waist. “doubt it baby, you’re too small and fragile”

“im not fragile” you argued, but he just hums, clearly he was unconvinced.

“mhm sure , but i would rather not risk my pretty girl struggling” his voice is soft as he titled her chin up. his thumb grazing over your jaw before pressing a lingering kiss to your nose. “besides, it’s cute when you try”

you swat at his chest, but the warmth spreading through you was impossible to ignore.

-

LEE JENO !

jeno watches as you struggle to open a bottle of water, your hands twisted at the cap, but with no success. before you can even consider asking for help, he grabs it from your grasp effortlessly, cracking it open with one hand

“jeno.. baby..” you huffed, reaching for it. “i could’ve done it”

he lifted the bottle higher, out of your reach, a playful smirk on his lips. “mm, but why should i when i can just do it for you baby?”

you pout, the smirk softened as he takes your chin between his fingers. “pretty.. i like taking care of you” he murmurs, pressing a slow kiss to your lips before finally handing the bottle to you. “so let me, okay?”

you take a sip, trying to hide your smile, but he sees right through you.

-

LEE HAECHAN !

your standing in the kitchen, trying to wash the dishes, when haechan suddenly wraps his arms around your waist and lifts you off the ground

“you shouldn’t be doing this sunshine” he whines, carrying you away from the sink and placing you gently on the couch. “my pretty baby doesn’t need to be doing chores”

you cross your arms. “and who’s going to do them then?, you?”

“uh no?, that’s why rich people hire maids for” he says. “and since im not rich, ill do it because i love you”

you blink “wait did you just…?”

“shh” he cuts you off, pressing a quick kiss to your lips before rushing to the kitchen. “no more questions sunshine, just sit here and look pretty for me”

your heart feels like it’s doing somersaults, but you’ll just pretend you didn’t hear the way his voice cracked

-

NA JAEMIN !

you’re in bed half asleep, when you feel jaemin shift beside you. he carefully tucks the blanket around your shoulders, brushing a strand of hair away from your face.

“nana… where are you going?” you mumble, reaching for his hand before he can move.

jaemin chuckles softly, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “i was just gonna get some water baby”

you let out a sleepy whine, tugging at his hoodie. “no… stay”

he smiles, lying back down and wrapping his arms around you. “you’re too cute you know that?” his voice is a whisper against your ear warm and comforting.

you nuzzle into his chest as he kisses the top of your head. “okay, okay i’m staying” he murmurs. “not like i’d ever leave my pretty girl alone anyway”

-

ZHONG CHENLE !

you’re running around the house, trying to grab something from the other room, when chenle calls out from the couch. “slow down baby, you’re gonna trip”

“i won-” your foot catches on the rug, and before you know it you’re stumbling forward.

chenle is up in an instant, catching you before you can hit the ground. he steadies you as his hands firm on your waist. “what did i just say baby?” he sighs, shaking his head before pulling you into his arms.

you groan. “okay okay.. you were right”

he smirks, rubbing circles onto your back. “of course i was, my baby is too clumsy for her own good”

you pout up at him, and he kisses your forehead with a chuckle. “from now on just let me do everything baby okay?”

you roll your eyes, but you don’t complain when he picks you up bridal style just to take you back to the couch.

-

PARK JISUNG !

you’re sitting on the floor, playing a video game when jisung suddenly scoots closer and pulls you into his lap.

“jisung baby?” you say, looking at him in confusion.

he wraps his arms around you, resting his chin on your shoulder. “just let me hold you for a bit”

your heart melts. “you’re so clingy” you tease, but you lean into him anyway.

“yeah, yeah” he mumbles, tightening his grip. “you’re my baby so deal with it”

you smile, placing your hands over his. “okay but you better not complain when i call you baby back”

he groans, but you catch the way his ears turn pink.

[jjwistar]

ཐི NCT DREAM P LINKS ཋྀ

jeno can't take it anymore; you drive him crazy

haechan wants to feel you everywhere, so he goes nice, deep & slow

renjun's weakness is skirts, so getting to fuck you in one makes him feral

jaemin knows exactly how to take care of your bratty attitude

chenle loves to hear just how deep he is in your guts, doing his best to get you wailing

jisung is so stressed out, he needs a break from the school work

mark just can't wait to get in your shared apartment, he needs you here and now

[viasdreams]

‧₊˚✩ ₊˚🫧⊹♡

sending dream pics with their photocards in your cleavage !!

a/n: little secret for yall…yn in chenle’s is me👅dont slide into my dms all at once now!!!

[orangesaek]

'choose me, PLEASE' | simp Haechan

summary: Haechan’s entire brain rewired after that single sentence sweet, shy, innocent Jisung oh-so nonchalantly said while eating a burger, and now? He’s on a mission.

this story is the sequel of:

╰┈➤ˎˊ˗ ‘choose me’ (wc: 0.8k) ʕ •ᴥ• ʔ ♡

pairings: haechan x afab!reader┊genre: fluff (with a sprinkle of comedy), hc is a hard simp who values consent & is patient┊wc: 2.8k┊cw: minimal cursing/swearing

a/n: thank u to the anon who motivated me to write this sequel 🫶

Lee Donghyuck, also known to the general public as Haechan, menace, chaotic but charming pos, vocal king, and professional yapper, was many things.

But above all?

He was head-over-heels, irrevocably, unapologetically, pathetically in love with you.

And damn, did everyone know it.

“You’ve literally been smiling at your phone for the past ten minutes,” Mark muttered, balancing a chopstick between his upper lip and nose for some unknown reason.

Haechan didn’t even look up.

“Can you blame me? She asked me out. ME! I was the chosen one.”

Renjun rolled his eyes. “You act like you didn’t spend months soft-launching her in every Instagram story and thirsting in her DMs.”

“Exactly! And all that hard work paid off,” Haechan declared, holding his heart like a Disney Princess who just found true love.

“This isn’t just a win for me. This is a win for all persistent, chaotic men out there.”

“You’re so dramatic,” Chenle snorted.

“Let him be,” Jaemin grinned. “He’s fucking in love.”

And yeah, he really fucking was.

After months of him yapping at you in hallways, showing up with your favorite drinks unannounced, and turning every conversation into a chance to make you laugh, you had reached out first for a date.

Haechan had been spinning since.

But he wasn’t blind. He knew your reputation very well.

People liked to talk. “Tinder girl” or “serial swiper”, as many people call you. And while it bugged him sometimes, he never said anything.

He liked you for you. Every unbothered, clever, sarcastic, onion-loving bit of you.

But then Jisung—sweet, shy, innocent Park Jisung who had zero idea what kind of bomb he was dropping—uttered a single sentence that rewired Haechan’s entire brain.

“Did you know she deleted Tinder.”

Haechan stared at Jisung like he had just grown a second head like the mythical creatures you two often talked about. 

“What?”

“She deleted Tinder,” Jisung repeated, mid-bite of his burger.

“Said she’s not interested in dating around anymore, just seeing where it goes now with you.” he added, nonchalantly.

A hush fell over the lunch table.

Mark choked on his rice.

Chenle gasped so loudly, an old lady at the next table turned to look.

Jaemin screamed into a napkin.

Renjun and Jeno stared at Haechan like he was about to spontaneously combust.

And he kind of did.

“She deleted Tinder…” Haechan repeated, eyes wide. “For me???”

Jisung shrugged as he took another bite of his burger.

“I guess so.”

It was at that moment that Haechan knew he needed to step up his game. Again.

Not to win you over, though. You were already on your way to being his.

But to show you that he noticed.

That he cared about every little thing.

Your likes, your dislikes. Your stress levels, your bad back, your caffeine dependency, your hatred of soggy onions.

ALL of it.

So when he heard you were skipping lunch to prep for the university festival?

He rallied the squad.

You were sweating, covered in paint, and very close to committing minor arson when you heard it.

“Y/N!”

You turned around mid-rant after some freshman had dropped a whole box of flyers and froze.

Mark, Renjun, Jeno, Jaemin, Chenle, and Jisung were all standing in the middle of the hallway, looking way too clean and composed to be real.

“What the hell?”

“We’re here to help,” Mark said casually, already rolling up his sleeves.

“Are you serious? Why?”

“Because we like you,” Jaemin said with a wink.

“Because you clearly need it,” Renjun added, stepping over a paintbrush.

“Also because Haechan threatened us,” Jeno deadpanned.

“Where is Haechan?” you asked, suspicious.

“He’ll be here,” Chenle grinned. “Had to pick something up.”

You narrowed your eyes but didn’t argue. You were too tired, and honestly, you needed the help.

But of course, nothing was ever simple when the boys were around.

Because within five minutes, a group of university girls (probably from the next booth over) had started coming over where you were. Smiling, twirling their hair, leaning in to 'ask for help'.

“Hey, can you help me lift this? You look so strong,” one of them purred at Jeno.

“Uh… I have a girlfriend.”

“No, he doesn’t,” Chenle whispered. Jeno elbowed him in the ribs.

“Renjun, by any chance, are you single?” another girl asked, practically batting her eyelashes. Renjun didn’t even look up.

“Emotionally unavailable.”

“Hi, what’s your name?” someone tried with Jaemin.

“Sorry, I’m in love with someone else,” he said brightly, then muttered, “Who I haven’t even met yet, but I’m manifesting.”

But then the worst one turned to Haechan, who had just arrived—sweaty, breathless, arms holding a large paper bag.

“Hey, Haechan. I was wondering if we can go on a date after the festival?”

He didn’t miss a beat.

“No, I'm taken. Very taken. Stupidly, pathetically taken.”

The girl scoffed. “Oh, you serious?”

“Yeah. Serious enough that I’d reject you in this life, the next one, and every damn lifetime I get after that,” Haechan said, not even sparing her a glance as he pushed past.

He made a beeline for you.

“Did you think I’d let you starve again?”

You turned, surprised, as he dropped a paper bag in front of you.

Inside was your favorite food—with extra onions, just the way you liked it. Your go-to dessert and coffee from that café a good thirty-minute walk away. Energy drinks, and pain relief patches.

“For your back,” he added, holding them up proudly.

“Because I know it acts up when you’re stressed.”

You stared at him, the noise around you fading in the background.

“What the fuck,” you whispered. “How do you remember all this?”

He just grinned, boyish and cocky and painfully attractive.

“I just do.”

Hours later, when the festival prep was done and the guys had retreated to their dorms, Haechan found himself on your couch, legs tucked up, phone discarded somewhere.

“You wanna eat dinner?” he asked casually.

“I’m too tired to chew,” you groaned from where you were face-down in a pillow.

He clicked his tongue. “You can’t sleep on an empty stomach.”

“You gonna force-feed me?”

“I’m gonna cook for you, actually.”

“You can cook???”

“I can cook ramen,” he said, rummaging through your empty fridge and pathetic excuse of a pantry. 

“You need to go grocery shopping.”

“No time.”

“We’ll go together this weekend.”

You didn’t argue.

Eventually, he found ramen and made it exactly the way you liked it. You took one bite and stared at him like he had just performed a miracle.

“What the—how the fuck did you make it perfect?”

With a smug smile, he slid his phone across the table.

“Notes app. Took notes during our FaceTime calls. Every time you made ramen, I watched, listened, and learned.”

You stared at him in disbelief. 

“You have a Notes app entry dedicated to my ramen?” you said as you read the very detailed notes he took.

1. Add only half of the seasoning packet after 2 minutes of boiling 2. Add sesame oil; 1 and a half teaspoons only 3. Boil noodles for EXACTLY 3 min & 30 seconds; no more, no less!!!!!! 4. Turn stove off, add egg immediately, cover and leave to cook for 1 minute using residual heat 5. MOST IMPORTANT❗❗❗ Serve my 🤞future wife 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨👰🏻🤵🏻🤞 with love 💖 affection 🥰 adoration 💕😍💘

“Don’t act surprised. You know I’m a hard simp for you.”

You laughed, loud and real. God, he loved that sound. 

The two of you talked for hours. About nonsense, about dreams, about nothing and everything. And as you spoke, Haechan couldn’t stop staring.

The way your eyes lit up when you talked about something you loved. All your hand gestures. The way you tilted your head when you were about to say something smart-ass-y.

He was so screwed. So fucking screwed.

When it was time for him to leave, you walked him to the door, your voice softer than usual.

“Thanks for today, seriously… you were amazing.”

He shrugged, trying to seem cool despite the way his heart was screaming. 

“Anything for you.”

You stepped in and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

His brain shut down.

“That’s for being sweet,” you murmured, visibly blushing.

He opened his mouth to say something. Maybe a joke, maybe a plea for another kiss.

But before he could even get the words out, you leaned in again and kissed him on the lips.

It was so sweet, so soft, so warm that Haechan felt all fuzzy inside.

Then you pulled back with a shy smile.

“You deserved that. Good night, Lee Donghyuck.”

Haechan walked home that night giggling like a damn schoolgirl, skipping down the sidewalk.

He didn’t sleep that night. He just couldn’t.

Too busy replaying the kiss. Too busy falling in love all over again.

Haechan was dead serious about grocery shopping with you that weekend. He never forgot the image of your empty fridge and pantry.

From the moment the shopping cart hit the tile floor of the supermarket, however, he knew he had made a mistake.

Not about coming here with you. Never about that.

But bringing along the rest of NCT DREAM? That was asking for chaos. 

And they delivered.

Renjun and Chenle were three seconds away from a fistfight over which brand of dumplings “tasted like home".

Mark was trying to prevent Jisung from dumping eight family-size frozen pizzas into the cart.

Jaemin had disappeared somewhere near the meat section.

And Jeno… well, Jeno was quietly loading protein bars.

In the middle of it all was you, trying so hard not to lose your mind. Eyes sharp, sleeves rolled, your phone out with a list, and your tolerance hanging by a thread.

Haechan couldn’t stop staring at you in awe though.

You were tired, stressed, beautiful. His (even if you hadn’t officially said it yet; he just believed in manifestation). And he had never wanted to take care of someone more in his life.

He drifted toward you, grinning. “You good, baby?”

You let out a sigh.

“I just saw Jisung try to eat a dried squid like a snack.”

“Protein,” Haechan nodded seriously. 

“You all have one brain cell and it’s constantly overheating.”

“And yet,” he said, bumping your shoulder playfully, “you keep showing up.”

You shook your head, but your smile tugged at the corners. He caught it, always did.

And then, he started his little mission.

While the guys fought over snacks and Jisung questioned the difference between ‘plain yogurt' and ‘Greek yogurt’, Haechan was pulling things from your cart and swapping them.

He snuck in quality produce, whole grains, probiotic drinks. Things he knew you never bought for yourself because they were too expensive or felt unnecessary.

“You’re not sneaky,” you whispered, catching him replacing your soda with vitamin water.

“I’m caring,” he replied. “There’s a difference.”

“You’re annoying.”

“You’re unhealthy. Let me love you properly.”

He meant it.

At checkout, you tried to pay. And Haechan—full-time menace, part-time boyfriend hopeful—snatched your wallet with reflexes born from years of being nosy.

“I got it.”

“Haechan—”

“Nope, I’m paying. You deserve nice things. Like salmon and A5 Wagyu.”

“It’s a grocery run, not a honeymoon—”

“Too late. I’m already emotionally invested in your fridge, your health, and your life.”

He said it so confidently, so shamelessly, the cashier actually giggled.

Haechan didn’t care. He tapped his card like it was nothing and slung the bags over his shoulders like a knight delivering offerings to his queen.

Back at your apartment, you both unpacked in comfortable silence. The rest of the guys had gone back to their dorms, and now it was just you and him.

Haechan placed your drinks in the fridge in rainbow order while you arranged the dry goods.

He felt good here, like he always belonged.

He snuck glances at you as you folded and stacked, moving around the space he now knew better than his own dorm kitchen. You looked peaceful, your brows slightly furrowed in concentration.

God, he was down bad.

Once everything was away, he leaned on the counter and gave you a look.

That look.

“What?” you asked, cautious.

“Can I kiss you?”

Your shoulders relaxed just a little. 

“You’re asking?”

“I just want to make sure,” he said.

“Because this one’s not just for being cute... or for making Mark gag. This one’s because I’m into you. Deep. I want this to be meaningful.”

You smiled softly at him and nodded, “Yeah, I’d like that.”

Haechan didn’t think the moment could get any better after you said yes to the kiss.

He had asked because, of course, he would. He should.

That was just who he was with you: careful, patient, a little hopeless. Always waiting for the green light. And when you gave it with that soft smile on your face, he swore the earth tilted under his feet.

The kiss had been slow, sweet, and tender. And now, you sat next to him on your couch, your fingers still tangled with his, your heart steady but loud in the quiet of the apartment.

Then you looked at him, and he saw something shift in your eyes. Something big.

“Haechan…” you called softly.

“Can I be your girlfriend?”

His heart slammed in his chest.

He froze, blinking as if he hadn’t heard you right. But before he could say anything, you kept going.

“I think you’re the one I’ve been looking for all along. And I don’t know if it’s too late, but I really regret not making the effort to get to know you better earlier... I wasted so much time dating shitty men who couldn’t even treat me like a person… or see me the way you've always seen me.”

His chest ached, but you weren’t done. 

“You were always there. Holding space for me... never asking for anything. And now, looking at you, I just—I can’t believe I didn’t see it before. You’re the best plot twist of my life.”

He swore time stood still.

“I’m sorry I made you wait this long. I’m sorry I was out there swiping left and right while you were just… quietly being everything I ever needed. Thank you for sticking with me, Lee Donghyuck.”

And then—

“I love you,” Haechan blurted.

The words slipped out so fast, so soft, he barely noticed he said them aloud until your eyes widened.

He didn’t even mean to blurt it—he was just overflowing with so much love for you. Shocked. Elated. Completely gone.

You finally chose him.

He took a shaky breath, calming his racing heart.

“I didn’t say it because I wanted anything back,” he murmured.

“I just… I’ve loved you for so long without needing you to love me too. But now you’re here saying all this… it feels like I finally got to wake up in the dream I’ve been stuck in for a long time.”

You stared at him, visibly flustered now, lips parted like you couldn’t figure out what to do with yourself. Your eyes flicked everywhere, anywhere but his, like his confession shut your brain off.

He chuckled softly. “You’re shy now? After all that?” he teased, leaning in just enough to nudge your nose with his. 

“Do you know how long I’ve waited to hear you say anything like that?”

You couldn’t hide the obvious blush creeping up your face anymore, and with a small noise, you grabbed him and hugged him tightly, arms around his waist like you needed to hide in him.

Haechan melted immediately, arms coming around you, a huge smile tugging at his lips it almost hurt.

“God, you’re so cute,” he whispered into your hair.

“You’re done for, you know that? I’m gonna spoil you so bad, you’ll forget Tinder ever existed.”

You let out a muffled laugh against his chest.

And that’s when it finally hit him, the absurdity of it all.

“Oh my god, the guys owe me so much money.”

You pulled back slightly to look at him, confused.

“They all said I was delusional,” he said, dramatically rolling his eyes. 

“That I’d stay your unofficial simp until I died. Jeno even bet me an entire month’s allowance that I’d never get past friend zone.”

You burst out laughing, and he grinned, leaning in like he was letting you in on a secret.

“But look at me now,” he whispered.

“Right here, with the girl who chose me.”

He kissed your cheek once, then twice for good luck, then smiled into your skin. 

“I can’t wait to tell Jeno. I’m asking for payment in both hard cash and public humiliation.”

You giggled and leaned into him again, cheeks warm, heart full of happiness.

He was still Haechan. Dramatic, ridiculous, absolutely in love.

But now, he's officially yours.

accepting requests atm ₍ᐢ._.ᐢ₎♡

also—PRE-SIMP HAECHAN IS OUT!!!

╰┈➤ˎˊ˗ ‘simping 101: get roasted & love will follow’

[hyuckiefluff]

playing dirty | z. chenle

pairing: basketball captain! chenle x fashion major! fem.reader

genre: established relationship, smut, a lil bit of crack

wc: 4k

summary: you’re tired of chenle ditching you for basketball practice, so you do what any rational girlfriend would do—show up to his practice in a slutty version of his team’s uniform. turns out you’re kind of good at basketball. turns out chenle can’t handle watching his teammates ogle the love of his life. turns out the locker room has a lock for a reason.

content warnings: semi-public sex, jealousy & possessiveness, mild clothing kink, oral sex (fem receiving), unprotected sex, light degradation (slut), brief choking, hair pulling, creampie, titfucking, spit play, exhibitionism (accidental), bratty reader, basketball but make it horny, suggestive banter, mild embarrassment & teasing, soft dom!chenle. lmk if i missed any!

a/n: possessive chenle save me SAVE ME POSSESSIVE CHENLE lol i had a lot of fun writing this and i rlly like how it came out (especially the smut kekeke). kinda nervous since it’s my first chenle fic lol lmk what u think bffs! ps: stream lucid !! my king chenle is serving face and vocals as usual!!

you’re sick of it.

sick of the half‑assed excuses, the “i’ll make it up to you, babe” texts, the cold side of your bed because basketball practice ran late again. the sport isn’t the villain here—chenle’s priorities are. so tonight you decide to speak in the only language that ever slapped any sense into him: pure, weaponized pettiness.

you dig into your closet to find the box tucked behind an old hoodie. the custom set you spent a whole week sewing in the campus fashion studio—his cropped jersey perfectly tailored to end right above your ribs, his number stretched neatly across your chest, tight little shorts that ride up high enough to give anyone with a pulse an aneurysm, and tube socks that reach your knees but do absolutely nothing to hide how much skin is on display. 

you originally designed it as a birthday gift for chenle, something psexy and playful, the kind of outfit that should not leave the bedroom.

but desperate times call for desperate measures.

“you want to play, baby,” you murmur to yourself, lip tugging into a smirk as you tug the top down over your chest, admiring how your careful stitchwork hugs every curve. “let’s play then.”

twenty minutes later, you're outside the gym where chenle’s practicing. you can hear echoing laughter, the thump of basketballs, and the sound of sneakers squeaking across the court. chenle’s voice cuts through it every few seconds barking out plays or teasing his teammates, totally oblivious to the chaos about to walk through the double doors.

you adjust the hem of your very customized uniform and tug the waistband of your shorts up an inch, just enough to make your ass cheeks peek out more.

when you swing the gym doors open, a dozen jaws detach from skulls in real time. one guy bricks a layup so hard the ball ricochets off the backboard and clatters to the floor.

chenle basically inhales the water he was drinking the moment he sees you strut onto the court in the tiny jersey you stitched yourself. he doesn’t even manage any words at first, just blinks slowly.

you beam, stepping closer. “hey, baby!”

he moves toward you quickly, fingers gripping the hem of your jersey and trying to tug it down. “what the hell are you wearing?”

“your uniform, duh!” you say innocently. “remember you said i could come practice with you sometime?”

“yeah—but not…not like this!” he hisses, glancing sharply over his shoulder. his teammates aren’t even pretending to look away, their eyes glued shamelessly to every exposed inch of you. chenle groans, turning back to you in disbelief. “jesus christ, y/n.”

you spin slowly, letting him admire your handiwork. “i made it myself. do you like it?”

his eyes narrow, but they still flick down to watch your chest bounce beneath the tight fabric.

somewhere behind him, jaemin whistles low and appreciative. “yo, chenle, if you don’t want her, i’ll gladly take her on my team.”

chenle’s jaw clenches. “let’s go,” he mutters, gripping your wrist to lead you off the court.

but you plant your feet, looking up at him through your lashes. “lele, you promised you’d teach me,” you pout, your voice sweet and pleading—exactly the tone you know breaks him every single time.

you see the storm raging behind his eyes, the internal battle he’s clearly losing. after a long, tense pause, he finally gives in with an irritated sigh.

“fine,” chenle groans, running an exasperated hand through his hair. “i’ll teach you.”

he tries to sound firm, tries so damn hard to keep his cool but his voice cracks the instant you bend down to grab a stray basketball. every single set of eyes follows as your shorts ride dangerously higher. chenle practically growls under his breath.

“eyes up,” he snaps sharply at his teammates.

you hide a satisfied smirk, straightening up slowly and tossing chenle the ball. “so, how do i shoot?”

he glares at you, conflicted. he knows exactly what game you’re playing, but it’s too late to back down now. he steps close, muttering something unintelligible under his breath and positions his hands firmly on your waist. his fingers flex possessively against your skin making heat spark low in your belly.

“bend your knees,” chenle instructs tightly. you comply, feeling him tense behind you as your ass brushes firmly against him. he clears his throat roughly. “now raise your arms.”

you do as you’re told, stretching slowly, feeling every pair of eyes glued to the way your jersey inches higher. someone coughs loudly and someone else whistles under their breath.

“like this?” you ask, feigning innocence as you toss the ball. it hits the rim and bounces away, but the guys clap loudly like you just dunked on lebron.

chenle’s jaw clenches. “yeah, like that,” he mutters through gritted teeth, pulling you close again. “try it again, but please don’t stick your ass out so much this time.”

you laugh softly, leaning back just enough to whisper in his ear. “why not? you like it.”

he groans quietly, his grip on your hip tightening in warning. “don’t push it, baby.”

just as chenle's hands tense possessively at your waist, a teasing voice interrupts from behind.

“yo, captain! why don’t we run a quick game? let your girl play too, seems like she’s picking it up quickly.”

chenle's entire body stiffens, eyes narrowing dangerously at the cocky teammate smirking across the court. haechan, obviously—never passing up a chance to stir shit up.

“yeah,” another voice eagerly agrees. “she can be on our team!”

“not a chance,” chenle snaps, glaring daggers at them. “she stays with me.”

you tilt your head. “actually, i think i wanna be on the other team. it'll be fun playing against you.”

he groans quietly, clearly torn between the urge to pull you away and needing to save face in front of the team. he runs a frustrated hand through his hair before giving in with a sharp exhale. “fine. first team to five points wins, then we’re done. keep it clean,” he warns, voice tight as he shoots a pointed glare toward his teammates.

the guys erupt in cheers, gathering quickly around you to strategize. haechan immediately drapes an arm lazily over your shoulder, pulling you closer than strictly necessary and making chenle visibly bristle.

“alright, newbie,” haechan smirks, eyes flicking playfully toward chenle. “just stand there looking pretty and we’ll handle the rest.”

you smile sweetly, leaning up close enough to whisper in his ear and making sure chenle sees every move. “oh, i can handle myself just fine.”

you catch chenle’s scowl deepening, his fists clenching at his sides. suddenly, the entire gym feels about ten degrees hotter, and you’re pretty sure it has nothing to do with basketball.

the game begins, and the team immediately spreads out, pretending to care about positions and plays, but half their attention is undeniably on you. you smile sweetly, dribbling cautiously, deliberately bending forward just enough to ensure everyone behind you gets a generous view.

chenle’s voice slices sharply through the gym, frustration barely restrained. “eyes on the damn ball, idiots.”

you stifle a laugh, heart thrumming with exhilaration. you might be new to basketball, but getting under chenle’s skin is a game you’ve mastered to perfection.

every bounce of the ball, every step you take, you can feel eyes following—chenle’s most intensely of all. he’s practically vibrating with jealousy, torn between defending against his teammates’ shameless stares and actually playing defense.

haechan effortlessly steals the ball from your boyfriend and tosses it your way, shouting, “take the shot, rookie!”

you catch it clumsily, laughing breathlessly as chenle lunges in your direction, eyes narrowed with determination. adrenaline spikes as you fake left, then slip past him with surprising agility. your lay-up is sloppy, but by some miracle, it actually swishes neatly through the hoop.

the gym erupts in cheers and whistles. spinning around with a triumphant grin, you lift your arms in exaggerated celebration. haechan immediately appears beside you, pulling you into an enthusiastic hug that lingers just a second too long.

“damn, captain,” he calls out loudly. “better watch out, your girl got sweeter hands than you.”

chenle’s eyes flash dangerously, jaw visibly clenching as he stalks across the court toward you. every step radiates possessiveness and simmering annoyance. you tilt your head innocently, knowing exactly what’s coming next and loving every heated second of it.

“that's it. practice over,” he announces sharply, grabbing your wrist and pulling you toward the locker rooms.

“aww, dude—” haechan starts, clearly amused, but chenle silences him with a glare that could kill.

you bite your lip, heart pounding with satisfaction. finally, you’ve pushed him right past breaking point.

exactly as planned.

chenle’s grip on your wrist is firm, bordering on rough, as he drags you past the swinging locker room door and shoves it closed behind you. the echoes of sneakers squeaking and voices laughing outside fade, replaced by the rapid thump of your heartbeat and chenle’s heavy breathing.

he turns sharply, backing you against the lockers, eyes darkened with frustration.

“what the hell was that?” he demands, voice low and raw. his gaze drifts from your flushed cheeks down to the ridiculously cropped jersey, lingering briefly on the exposed curve of your waist before snapping back up to meet your eyes.

“basketball practice,” you reply innocently. “you always said you wanted me to learn.”

“not dressed like this,” he growls. 

his hand finds the hem of your jersey, fingers grazing the bare skin underneath. he hesitates, visibly swallowing down his jealousy. “you really made this yourself?”

“yep,” you say lifting your chin proudly. “thought it might inspire you.”

chenle scoffs, but his thumb drifts in soft circles at your waist despite the scowl. “inspire me to what? murder my teammates?”

you giggle, fingertips dancing across his chest. “you’re jealous, lele. admit it.”

“yeah, i am,” he mutters sharply.

his grip tightens on your waist, pulling you even closer against him. “didn’t you see how those assholes were looking at you? like they wanted—”

“like they wanted what’s yours?” you interrupt softly, teasing a finger along his jaw. “maybe i just felt like reminding you of that.”

his breath catches, and for a moment, he just stares down at you. finally, he sighs heavily, tension slipping into something deeper, hotter, infinitely more possessive.

“well, consider me reminded,” he murmurs, voice raspy as his lips brush teasingly against your ear. “but you’re never wearing this again for anyone but me.”

you shiver, leaning into him as your voice drops to a whisper. “oh? and what if i refuse?”

he smirks dangerously, eyes glinting. “then i guess i’ll just have to make you.”

his mouth melts against yours before you can tease him again. the kiss is punishing, hard enough to erase every grin haechan shot your way and every greedy glance the team threw at your thighs. 

his hands roam without hesitation gripping your waist, sliding up under the jersey, cupping your breasts with a low groan. he breaks the kiss to mutter, “fuck, you’re not even wearing a bra?”

“would’ve ruined the look,” you whisper, breath hitching as his thumbs brush your nipples. “you like it?”

“fuck yeah i like it” he growls.

you gasp as he yanks the jersey over your head in one swift motion and places it in his pocket. his lips trail down your neck, biting at the skin there. “next time you wanna get my attention,” he mutters, voice muffled against your collarbone, “just fucking say so. don’t make me nearly kill haechan on the court.”

you giggle, threading your fingers through his hair. “where’s the fun in that?”

his eyes flash as he sinks to his knees, fingers curling into the waistband of your shorts. “i’ll show you fun.”

he tugs them down so slowly it's almost torturous and drags your panties with them. his breath ghosts over your inner thighs, his mouth following suit a moment later. he groans against your skin, licking a slow stripe up your center before wrapping his arms around your legs and diving in.

you slap a hand over your mouth to muffle the moan that slips out. the locker room’s not soundproof, and the last thing you need is the team doubling back and catching chenle with his head buried between your thighs.

but he doesn’t care. he wants them to know. he wants them to hear you fall apart on his tongue, wants every single one of those bastards to understand that you’re his.

you’re already trembling when he stands back up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and kissing you. his fingers curl under your thigh, lifting you effortlessly as he walks you backward into the coach’s office—a smaller room with a desk and a door that locks.

he kicks it shut behind him.

“bend over the desk,” he commands, voice low and dangerous.

you obey, heat pooling between your legs again as your chest hits the wood and his hands smooth down your spine. he’s rougher now, undoing his shorts with jerky movements, lining himself up behind you with no warning except a hot breath against your ear and the blunt press of his tip against your entrance.

“you wanna dress like a little slut in front of my team?” he rasps, gripping your hips. “then take it like one.”

he slams into you in one deep, punishing thrust, and you cry out, barely able to hold yourself up. each snap sends your hips jerking against the desk, the edge biting into your stomach.

“this what you wanted?” he pants behind you, fingers digging into your waist hard enough to bruise. “wanted to make me jealous? wanted to be the center of attention?”

you nod frantically, but it’s not enough. his hand tangles in your hair, pulling your head back so your eyes meet his in the reflection of the office window that’s fogged up and smeared from the heat of your bodies.

“say it.”

“yes,” you gasp out, eyes glassy. “i wanted to drive you crazy.”

he chuckles darkly, chest heaving. “congrats, baby. mission fucking accomplished.”

his hand slips down, fingers finding your clit and circling it mercilessly. your legs threaten to give out, but he holds you steady, pinning you against the desk with his weight and the sharp slap of his hips.

“look at you,” he growls. “acting all innocent in front of my team, now falling apart on my cock.”

you’re close to your orgasm when suddenly, he yanks you back by the hair and pulls out with a wet slap. you whimper at the loss, but he’s already grabbing your hips nd spinning you around.

he spreads your legs and slides back in with a guttural moan. his hands come up, almost reverently, cupping the soft weight of your breasts as they bounce with every thrust. 

his thumbs brush over your nipple and then he leans down, mouth hot and greedy as he sucks one into his mouth, groaning in pleasure.

“fuck—” he pants, tongue swirling and teeth grazing just enough to make you jolt. “i can’t fucking think when they’re out like this. you know what you do to me?” 

your moans are strangled now. he’s sucking so hard, it s leaving deep red bruises all over your chest. he bites, soothes, sucks again. you clutch at his shoulders, legs wrapping tighter around him, and he grinds deeper, angling his hips to hit exactly where you need him most. his rhythm’s gone erratic, his obsession pouring into every snap of his hips, every bruise he leaves behind.

“look at you,” he pants, pulling back just far enough to watch. “bouncing all pretty for me. no one else gets to see this. no one else gets to fucking touch you.”

his palm slaps across your tit. hard enough to make it jiggle and watch the recoil as he thrusts in hard.

“fuck,” he groans, voice breaking. “you’re gonna make me cum just looking at you.”

your head lolls back, a whimper escaping your lips as his hand slides from your breast down to your neck, holding you still, eyes locked on the mess of you laid out under him—wrecked and panting and marked everywhere his mouth could reach.

you’re close again, tighter and hotter this time, clenching around him. your moans echo in the small office, filthy and raw, and he doesn’t even try to hold back now.

he fucks into you harder, mouth locked on your nipple again as he spills inside you, every muscle in his body tensing as he groans against your chest 

you’re barely coherent, mind hazy from the way he just fucked you over the desk. but chenle isn’t satisfied. not even close. he steps back to drink in your naked form, flushed and dripping with him.

his cock’s still rock hard somehow, twitching against his stomach, and his stare is nothing short of unhinged.

“lean back,” he rasps, grabbing your chin with wet fingers. “hands behind you. keep your tits up.”

you obey instinctively, legs falling open wider as you brace yourself on the desk, presenting yourself like the filthy little offering you are.

chenle just grins and crouches slightly, grabbing your breasts with both hands. and then he spits on your chest. hot, stringy spit right down the center of your, sliding between your tits and pooling under your collarbone.

“that’s better,” he mutters, eyes gleaming. “you look so hot covered in my spit.”

you gasp, chest rising as he does it again. letting it drip from his tongue while staring you down, and then he smears it in using his thumbs to rub it across your nipples.

you moan, high and wrecked. “lele—fuck—”

“look at your fucking face. you’re getting off on this.”

you are. embarrassingly so. he can see it in the way your thighs clench, and in the way your hips shift forward aching for more attention. he presses his cock between your tits now, sliding it back and forth while kneading them hard, thumb brushing over your nipple with every thrust.

“look at me,” he snaps.

your gaze locks onto his, dizzy and dazed.

“open your mouth.”

you do and he spits again, right onto your tongue.

“don’t swallow yet.” he growls, shoving his cock between your tits faster now, panting like a man losing his mind. “keep it there. hold it.”

you moan around the spit in your mouth, letting it dribble down your chin just to watch his eyes darken even more. chenle looks fucking deranged with lust.

you moan when the head of his cock slides forward, the tip just barely grazing your chin on the upstroke.

you glance up at him, lashes fluttering, and then you stick your tongue out enough to tease the head when it brushes close.

“fuck,” he hisses, thrusting harder between your breasts now, chasing that angle again, just to feel your tongue catch him. “you want it in your mouth that bad, huh? can’t even wait?”

his cock keeps hitting just under your chin, and every time it does, you flick your tongue out again and catch the tip, tasting the mess off his slit.

“fucking—fuck,” he curses. “do it again.”

you do and this time, you even suck lightly when he slows for a second, lips parting around just the head before he pulls back and keeps fucking your chest. his control is shattered now. his body stutters and twitches with every stroke.

you whimper, fingers gripping the edge of the desk behind you, mouth open and waiting.

“you love this,” he pants. “you love being used like this. letting me fuck your tits… drooling for my cock.”

“i love it,”  you whisper, lips glossy with spit and pre-cum. “i love how crazy you get when i do.”

he thrusts one more time and spills between your breasts again, ropes of cum painting your skin. you lean forward, tongue dragging through his tip. licking the cum off it slowly, like a cat drinking milk.

chenle nearly collapses, stumbling forward and pressing against your bare chest.

“you ever show up to practice like that again,” he murmurs, voice hoarse against your skin, “i’ll fuck you in front of them all. make ‘em watch while i ruin you.”

you whimper, still trembling beneath him.

“but for now,” he smirks, wiping your chin with his thumb and sucking it clean, “this mess stays just between us.”

you’re still catching your breath, body slick with sweat and spit and cum, when chenle leans in and presses a soft kiss to your shoulder. it’s a jarring contrast to the way he just wrecked you against the desk, but that’s chenle. feral one minute, gentle the next. both versions still obsessed with you.

he puts on his shorts, pulls your jersey from the pocket and inspects it with a low whistle.

“you’re not putting this back on,” he mutters, shaking his head. “no fucking way.”

you smirk, chest still rising and falling as you look up at him. “why not? i worked hard on it.”

“you said you made it to inspire me, so i’m keeping it.” he crumples the jersey in one fist and shoves it straight into his pocket. “i’m hanging that shit on my wall.”

you laugh, weakly. “you’re ridiculous.”

he grabs his team jacket and drapes it over your shoulders, zipping it halfway up. it swallows your smaller frame, falling almost to your knees, sleeves covering your hands entirely. the way he looks at you—satisfied and possessive—makes it clear the outfit isn't negotiable.

“here,” he says, tightening the collar just a bit. “this is all you’re wearing now.”

you glance down at how the hem of the jacket just barely hits the tops of your thighs. you’re still wearing nothing underneath.

“guess i’m going commando,” you hum, teasing.

“yeah, but no one’s gonna know except me.” chenle grins, standing tall and adjusting your hair with stupid care. “let’s get you out of here.”

you barely make it out of the office when a low whistle slices through the silence.

the entire team—haechan front and center—is awkwardly standing there, pretending they haven't been shamelessly eavesdropping. 

“damn, took you long enough.”

chenle freezes, fingers tightening around yours so hard you nearly yelp. 

“i think you lost these,” haechan says, eyes sparkling mischievously as he spins something delicate around his index finger, your eyes widen with recognition.

your panties.

“found ‘em by the lockers. figured someone might be missing them.”

chenle’s face goes murderous in a heartbeat, jaw clenching so tight you're afraid his teeth might crack.

“give me those,” he growls, lunging toward haechan, who dances backward, keeping them just out of reach.

the boy chuckles, clearly enjoying every second of this torture. “you gotta be careful, man. wouldn’t want anyone else to find your girl’s cute little souvenirs.”

chenle lunges again, this time catching haechan’s wrist, wrenching your panties out of his grasp roughly. “i’ll kill you, dude.”

haechan just laughs, completely unfazed. he shifts his gaze toward you, his voice playfully taunting. “maybe next time you practice with us, try keeping these on? might help the captain focus a little better.”

you bury your face into chenle’s chest, half laughing, half dying of embarrassment. chenle just rolls his eyes, pulling you closer and guiding you down the hallway, past his shameless teammates. 

“you assholes got nothing better to do?”

“nah,” haechan replies smoothly, eyes twinkling with barely restrained laughter. “but it sounds like you two were pretty busy.”

the team snickers loudly, trying (and failing) to keep straight faces. chenle’s ears turn scarlet, but he keeps a protective arm tightly wrapped around your shoulders.

“fuck off,” chenle mutters darkly. “next practice, you’re all running laps until you puke.”

“worth it,” haechan teases, tossing you a playful wink. “good game, by the way.”

“practice tomorrow?” jaemin asks from behind, laughter bubbling beneath his words.

“fuck no,” chenle growls back without turning around. “we’ll be busy.”

as you pass the door,  haechan calls out, voice dripping amusement and challenge

“see you next practice y/n!”

chenle’s response is immediate, muttered darkly into your ear. “like hell he will.”

your cheeks burn from embarrassment—and exhilaration.

mission fucking accomplished, indeed.

[remtrack]

random boyfriend texts ☆ nct dream.

nct dream x reader. fluff.

warnings: the term wife used in hyuck's, suggestive in mark's.

note: first nct texts! some might be ooc </3 let me know if you like this ♡ i'll do more :P some were inspired by ones from pinterest!

[castleofclouds]

NCT Dream Proposing to you (Smau Vers)

pairings : nct dream × you

disclaimer : fiction, typo, non-idol

special tags : @1daily2lele7

Story are by ©castleofclouds do not repost or upload.

• • •• • • • • • • ↺͏͏ ° < ll >> ⋮≡ • • • • • • • • • •

Mark Lee.

Renjun Huang.

Jeno Lee.

Haechan Lee.

Jaemin Na.

Chenle Zhong.

Jisung Park.

Masterlist.

A/N

I know I did this thing in the past, and apparently many people love this, so I'm back with another version, which one do you think the cutest, I actually got inspired by watching the tds3 they were holding rings. How can I not fumbled like wtf?! Knetz are so spoiled, when is it my turn?! Gosh. Any way I hope you enjoy this one.

[hyuckiestarz]

bf!dreamies when you forget to kiss them goodbye

an; back to writing after 4 weeks so forgive me this is not good, but at least i tried ok. requested!

an2: your frogot...girl stand up

masterlist

[sincerelyneo]

training wheels | z.cl

“it’s not like i’m asking to be your wife”

💿now playing: training wheels by melanie martinez

❯ summary: When your jerk of a boyfriend dumps you for being a virgin, the last thing you expected was to find comfort in your roommate, Chenle. But here you are, and now you're asking him to take your virginity…

❯ pairings: chenle x fem!reader

❯ genre: roommates to lovers, smut

❯ words: 4.9k

❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, loss of virginity, protected sex, oral sex (fem receiving), fingering, slight innocence kink, fingering, pet names, very fluffy sex, swearing, reader uses she/her pronouns, basically just 4kish works of chenle coaxing you through it.

“It’s not me, it’s you.”

Jeong Jaehyun may have been your first boyfriend, but you’re pretty sure that’s not how that line is supposed to go. At least, that’s not how they say it in the movies. And still, here you are—sitting alone at the little bistro downtown, thirty minutes after he ended things and walked out.

Jaehyun’s made it painfully clear he’s done with you. But, there’s still some small part of you that expected him to come back, apologise, maybe even beg you to forgive him, say he made a mistake. He doesn’t. So you pay for the drink you’ve barely touched and decide to make your way back to your apartment.

The breakup doesn’t hurt in the traditional sense—you weren’t necessarily in love with Jaehyun. He was sweet, sure, and hot enough. But there was always something missing. Maybe that’s why, every time things started to get physical and he wanted to take his pants off, you freaked out and pulled away. Left him hanging. Blue-balled him, as he so charmingly put it. His words, not yours.

What stings is everything he said before he left—because it was honest, and it’s going to follow you into every relationship after him.

"It’s normal for a guy to wanna fuck his girlfriend, Y/N."

"I’ve waited three months."

"If you’re not ready, I’m not interested."

Yeah, you’ve changed your mind, you think he’s an asshole. 

The words circle your mind until you get to your apartment. Your heels click dully against the hallway floor as you fumble with your keys, a sigh escaping before the door even opens.

Chenle, your roommate, is on the sofa. His legs folded underneath him like a child and a deck of playing cards are spread out on the coffee table. Solitaire, probably, knowing him.

He doesn’t look up when you come in, just says, “You’re back early.”

You toe your heels off in the entry way and shrug off your coat, letting it fall onto the back of one of the bar stools as you make your way through the kitchen to join him on the sofa. 

“Yeah,” you mumble, voice scratchy from the cold. “Dinner ended early. Jaehyun decided to break up with me.”

That gets his attention. He glances up, blinking, a three of hearts dangling between his fingers. “Woah. Fuck me. Seriously?”

You nod. “Yep. He said—and I quote—‘It’s not me, it’s you.’”

Chenle lets out a short, incredulous laugh, dropping the card onto the messy pile in front of him. “Damn. What a fucking asshole.”

You flop down beside him, curling your knees up under your chin. “He’s not wrong,” you say, quieter now. “I mean... he kind of had a point.”

Chenle tilts his head at you sceptically. “No chance. Look, I’m no Casanova or anything, but even I know the line is supposed to be ‘it’s not you, it’s me.’”

You shake your head and laugh, defeated. “That’s what I thought too.” Then, a sigh drags itself out of you. “Except... the reason he broke up with me is because he doesn’t think dating a virgin is worth the hassle. That he’s tired of waiting, so he just... left.”

“So... because you didn’t want to sleep with him, he decided you weren’t worth dating?” He asks, leaning back against the couch now, arms crossed.

You glance at him. “Pretty much.”

Chenle doesn’t know what’s more shocking—the fact that you (his pretty little roommate who’s sexier than sin and sweeter than sugar) are still holding onto your v-card, or the fact that your asshole boyfriend, who he never really had a valid reason to hate before, didn’t think you were worth the wait. 

Well, he’s glad he’s got a reason now.

He hums, thinking. “What a dick.”

“I don’t know,” you say softly. “I mean, maybe he’s right. Maybe something is wrong with me. Maybe I’m broken.”

Fuck no. He’s making you erase that thought, asap. 

Chenle straightens, shaking his head. “There’s nothing wrong with you, Y/N. Wanting to wait—or not wanting sex at all—doesn’t mean you’re broken. That’s just... your decision. A good guy would respect that.”

You chew on the edge of your thumbnail, gaze dropping to the floor. It’s a bad habit you can’t quite kick, especially when you’re feeling small.

“It’s not like I don’t want to have sex,” you say eventually, voice so quiet it's almost like you’re confessing something shameful. “I do. I just...I keep dating guys who’ve, like... been with lots of girls. Guys who know what they’re doing. And I don’t. And it makes me feel...” You trail off, cheeks burning and your throat tight. “It makes me feel embarrassed.”

The words hang there, raw and a little pathetic, and you hate how small they make you sound.

Eventually, Chenle shifts beside you, nudging your knee lightly with his. “You know that’s bullshit, right?”

You shrug, because it doesn’t feel like bullshit when you’re the one living it. When you’re the one with the anxiety that won’t let you get past a makeout session with some light petting. 

Chenle huffs a breath, raking a hand through his hair. “Seriously, Y/N. Anyone who makes you feel like you're not enough because you haven’t ticked some box yet is a fucking idiot.” 

That gets a quiet laugh out of you. You finally glance up at him, and his face is serious, sincere in a way that Chenle usually hides behind jokes and sarcasm. He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. 

“You’re not less because you’re waiting. You’re not less because you’re nervous. And you’re definitely not less because you’re a little unsure about what you’re doing.” His voice drops a little, softer now. “You deserve someone patient. Someone who makes you feel good about yourself. Not some dickhead who’s counting down the days like it’s a fucking chore.”

You duck your head, a bitter laugh escaping you. “Easy for you to say. You’re not the one who’s... an adult and still completely clueless.”

Chenle leans in a little, catching your eyes with his own. There’s no teasing there, no judgment—just something warm. 

“Everyone’s clueless the first time. That’s the whole point. You’re not supposed to be good at it. You’re supposed to figure it out with someone who gives a shit about you. Not some guy who’s just trying to get his dick wet.”

You snort at that despite yourself, and Chenle grins, pleased with himself for making you laugh, even if it’s just a little. After a moment, you tilt your head, studying him. 

“Were you... clueless your first time?”

Chenle lets out a bark of laughter, throwing his head back against the couch dramatically. “Oh, hell yeah.”

You smile. “Seriously?”

“Dead serious. It was... honestly, it was embarrassing as fuck. Blew my load in, like, two minutes.” He squeezes his eyes together and shivers at the memory. “The girl was very polite about it, though, but yeah. Mortifying.”

You snort, the mental image almost too hard to believe. In the years you’d been Chenle’s roommate, he’d probably had one situationship—max. You knew he wasn’t exactly a player, and he didn’t fuck around a lot. Christ, he spent his Saturday nights playing solo solitaire on the coffee table.

But still... he was hot. And hot people could always fuck... right?

“Oh my God,” you giggle, covering your mouth. “Two minutes?”

“If that,” he says, eyes crinkling again. “Might’ve been one and a half. I’m a little generous with myself. Male ego and all that.”

You laugh so hard your sides ache, and Chenle’s grin only widens. He likes seeing you laugh—loves it, actually. He thinks he’d like to make you laugh more often. It’s so pretty, the sound, the way your whole face lights up. Why on Earth that asshole you were dating didn’t want to wait longer to hear all the other sounds you’d make is completely beyond him.

When the laughter dies down, the quiet that settles between you isn’t heavy—it’s soft. Comfortable. It gives you a moment to just look at him. And something stirs in your chest, something you can’t quite name.

You and Chenle hadn’t been friends before you moved in together, but he’s always been so nice, so funny, so good to you. Even now, the fact that he’s willing to embarrass himself just to make you feel better… It’s trust.

It’s attractive.

Before you can second-guess it, the words slip out:

“Would you... would you be my first?”

“What—” he gapes at you and his voice cracks halfway through the word. He clears his throat, trying again. “Y/N, you…you can’t just ask stuff like that.”

Your heart stutters, nerves spiking—but before you can backpedal, you see the pink blooming on his cheeks, the way his hands flail a little uselessly in the air before he scrubs them through his hair.

“It’s not—I’m not saying no,” he rushes out. “It’s just—holy shit, Y/N.”

You blink at him. “Why are you freaking out more than me?”

Chenle groans and slumps back against the couch, covering his face with both hands. He’s freaking out because, despite all his confidence, he’s not sure he’d be any better now than he was as a clueless teenager losing his virginity.

Sure, he’s not totally inexperienced, but... this is you.

The girl across the hall he may or may not have jerked off to once or twice. The girl he thinks is so fucking pretty it physically hurts sometimes. The girl he’s definitely got a crush on. The girl who’s a virgin.

Fuck.

He’d be lucky if he lasts a full minute inside you.

“Because it’s you. And this is...we’ve established is a big deal to you. And I don’t wanna—I don’t know—ruin it or make it weird or...” He trails off, peeking at you through his fingers.

You chew on your lip for a second, then scoot a little closer, tugging gently at his wrist until he drops his hands and looks at you properly.

“I’m comfortable with you, Chenle,” you say quietly. “I trust you. I won’t feel embarrassed, I promise. Not with you.”

He flushes, looking like he might actually combust right there on the couch. His cheeks are pink, the tips of his ears even worse, and his hands keep fidgeting—picking at a loose thread on his sweatshirt, tapping against his knee. He keeps opening and closing his mouth like he wants to say something but can’t figure out what.

Finally, he manages, “Y/N, you’re upset after the breakup. I don’t want you to feel, like... pressured or anything. I don’t want you to wake up tomorrow and regret it.”

Translation: I don’t want you to wake up tomorrow and regret me.

“I won’t, I swear I won’t,” you say, sitting up to meet his wide, nervous eyes. “Look, it’s not like I’m asking to be your wife, Chenle. I’m not asking for a relationship or anything crazy. I just...” You pause, feeling your cheeks heat. “I want to get over this stupid hurdle. And I trust you.”

Something flickers in Chenle’s eyes then. His fidgeting stills all at once, and before you can react, he moves, shifting his weight and hovering over you on the couch, palms braced on either side of your body.

His pupils are blown wide, dark and stormy as they fix on you. His voice drops, “I’m not a fucking tick box either, Y/N. I’m not a hurdle for you to just get over.”

Your chest tightens, and your heart skips like it doesn’t know how to beat properly anymore.

“I know,” your voice trembles. “You’re kind, Chenle. I know you won’t laugh at me or make me feel like shit about it after. You’re the only guy I know who fits the bill for this.”

He brings one hand up, brushing a knuckle against your cheekbone—barely there, like he’s scared you might vanish if he touches you too hard.

“No, you don’t know,” he murmurs. “I’m saying, if we do this... I’m the only guy who fits the bill. Ever.”

Your throat tightens at that, and your cheeks flush from the heat of his palm, which is now cupping your jaw.

“Chenle—”

“I don’t want to be something you regret,” he says. “But I also... I don’t think I can say no to you right now. So you need to take this offer off the table.”

Your hands slide up under the hem of his sweatshirt, fingertips skimming the warm skin of his waist. He shivers under your touch. “I don’t want to take the offer off the table,” you breathe. “I want you.”

That’s all it takes. He kisses you.

It’s not rushed or hurried—it’s careful, like he’s asking permission with every brush of his lips against yours. His mouth is warm, breath a little shaky, and he tastes like that mint gum he’s always chewing. You’d never been kissed like this before, all teeth and tongue and so much aching need. You don’t want him to stop. 

Especially when his hands find your hips, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise, and he drags you closer, slotting you between his thighs. You can feel him already, hard against you through the thin barrier of your clothes, and it sends a dizzy rush through your blood.

You find yourself clutching at him—his sweatshirt, tugging at the hem, slipping your hands beneath to find hot skin. And God, is he solid. His stomach jumps beneath your palm, muscles tensing when your fingers splay across his ribs. You want to touch all of him. You want to learn from him.

He makes a soft, broken noise—somewhere between a moan and a plea—and pulls back just enough to breathe, just enough to speak.

“Easy, baby,” he says, eyes heavy-lidded. “You gotta slow down.”

You barely register the words—too consumed by the way that pet name sounds coming from his mouth, in that rugged tone, directed at you. It makes your whole body throb.

You bite your lip, still tugging at his sweatshirt. “But I want you. Now. All of you.”

He exhales, forehead now pressing to yours, eyes darting down to your lips, then back up like he’s trying to ground himself. 

“And you’ll have me,” he says quietly. “Every fucking bit of me. Just—let me have this. Let me take my time. Let me enjoy you.”

The words sink in slowly and they make your chest tighten. You blink up at him, breath catching. “I thought… I thought guys just wanted to get themselves off during sex.”

He cups your cheek, thumb brushing across your flushed skin, lingering at the corner of your swollen mouth before he lets it rest gently against your pouty lips.

“Maybe,” he murmurs, “but not every guy has the prettiest fucking girl underneath him.”

Your breath stutters.

“I’d be a fucking idiot,” he goes on, voice curling beneath every syllable, “if I didn’t put my mouth on your pretty pussy and watch you cum.”

You let out a whimper from the back of your throat—half shocked, half desperate.

“Bet you’d be so fucking hot,” he muses, dragging his thumb across your bottom lip again, slower this time. “Bet I wouldn’t be able to look away.”

Your hips shift involuntarily at his words, heat pooling low in your belly. The way he’s looking at you—like he’s already burning the view of you eager and squirming beneath him into his memory—makes your body vibrate with anticipation.

"Lele..." you whisper, breathless and unsure where the hell that nickname just slipped out from. Something about being this exposed, this vulnerable, has clearly made your brain foggy.

He just smiles, leaning in with his lips ghosting over the corner of your mouth, deliberately not kissing you. “You said you trust me, yeah?”

You nod, but his eyebrows raise, the demand clear in his expression. He wants the words. 

“Yes,” you breathe. 

“Then let me take care of you,” he whispers. “Let me teach you. Let me show you what it’s supposed to feel like.”

You gasp softly as he trails his hand down your jaw, then your neck, so attentively until his fingers skate lightly beneath the hem of your dress.

“Can I...?” His voice is almost a growl now when he asks, fingertips hovering just above your thighs, teasing at the edge of the fabric. 

You nod with a shaky breath. “Yes.”

He peels your dress off carefully, until you’re beneath him in nothing but a pair of black panties. When his eyes drop to your bare chest, he exhales slowly, chest rising like he’s trying not to worship you too hard, too fast.

"Fuck," he groans, sucking in a breath. “You’re gorgeous.”

Your arms instinctively twitch to cover yourself, but he catches your wrists gently and presses a kiss to each one before guiding your hands back to your sides.

“Don’t hide from me,” he demands. “Let me see you.”

And somehow, with the way he says it—all soft and awed—it’s easier. Easier to let him see. Easier to let him lean in and kiss along your collarbone, down the slope of your shoulder, into the valley of your breasts. 

And that’s when you thread your fingers into his hair, encouraging him to sink lower until his mouth trails over your sternum, then your stomach. His kisses so soft that they make your thighs clench.

“Still okay?” he asks, glancing up with burning eyes and a pair of his own swollen lips.

You nod, whispering, “Please, don’t stop.”

And he doesn’t. 

His fingers hook into the waistband of your panties, and he tugs them down steadily, steady enough that you could stop him if you wanted him to, but you don’t. You lift your hips instead, offering yourself up.

“I still can’t believe you asked me to do this,” he says, getting the fabric completely off. “You could’ve had anyone.”

“I didn’t want anyone else,” you whisper. “Just you.”

“Good,” he breathes. “Because you have no idea what you’re doing to me—lying here like this, letting me be your first. Letting me be the one who gets to see you like this. Taste you.” He pauses, jaw tight. “Fuck—you’re so pretty.”

You want to clamp your legs shut at that, but you already know there’s no way in hell he’s letting that happen. Instead, you let him lean in, his mouth brushing a kiss to the inside of your bare thigh. Then another—higher. And another.

Until you're trembling. Until a whimper escapes you. And he just grins against your skin.

“You’re already shaking,” he says with a smirk, licking a leisurely stripe along the apex of your thigh. “I’ve barely touched you.”

You nod, cheeks burning. “I—I can’t help it.”

“I know, baby,” he says, and then he’s kissing higher again, closer to your cunt, until his breath is ghosting over where you’re aching for him the most. “That’s what I like about you. So innocent. So fucking eager.”

You’re trembling now, fingers fisting the back of the sofa, eyes snapping shut just as his mouth drags closer and his tongue licks a stripe along your pussy—languid and unhurried like he’s savouring every second.

“I’ve thought about this, you know?” he says, voice tight. “Thought about what you’d taste like. What you’d sound like when I finally got my mouth on you. Every day since you moved in.”

Your breath stutters, and a helpless sound slips from your lips. “E-every day?”

That makes him smile, eyes flicking up to yours. “Yeah,” he breathes. “And that sound—fuck, I could live off it.”

And then he dips lower. His tongue barely brushes where you’re soaked for him, but your back still arches off the sofa with a gasp anyway. You can’t even think—you’re just feeling. Overwhelmed. Burning.

He hums against you, satisfied. Like this was always meant to happen—his hands anchoring your hips, his mouth wrapped around your clit, sucking and lapping at you with skill, whilst his eyes stay locked on your face.

You’re completely falling apart beneath him, thighs shaking as he takes his time putting his tongue to work. Every choked whisper of his name tumbles from your lips without permission, and when your hands fly to his hair, fingers threading through the strands, he groans.

It’s low and guttural, and the vibration of it against you makes you cry out.

“Yes,” he pants. “I can feel how close you are. You’re shaking so bad, baby. You gonna cum for me already?”

You nod, frantic, breath hitching. “Yes, Lele—please,” you moan. “Please don’t stop.”

He wouldn’t.

One hand holds you open, steady, while the other slips down past your thigh until a single finger slides into your dripping pussy. You pant at the intrusion, eyes wide, and when he sees your pupils dilate, he starts to move—slow at first, then deeper, working you open until he’s knuckle deep and you tremble under his touch.

Then his mouth is back on you. Tongue circling, dipping, coaxing. Worshipping. And you’re not sure when the sob catches in your throat, only that it does—and that he hears it.

His thumb brushes along your hip, grounding you. “I’ve got you, baby. I’ve got you.” The finger inside you curls just right, and his voice drops: “Give it to me, baby. Let me have it. Let me see you cum for me, yeah?”

Then his mouth is back on your clit. It’s a steady rhythm but not as gentle now. But still, it’s matched to the overwhelmed, wild beat of your panting.

“I can feel it,” he says against you. “You’re so fucking close.”

You nod, whimpering. “I can’t—I—”

“Yes, you can,” he urges. “Cum for me, baby. Let go.”

It crashes into you—your orgasm—ripping through you like it’s both too much and still not enough. You cry out his name, fists tangled in his hair, and he doesn’t stop. Not until you’re spent and shaking, breathless, and sinking back into the cushions like you’ve melted into them like a puddle.

Only then does he ease off, his mouth softening against your skin. He presses one last kiss to your thigh before drawing his hand away. You’re still gasping when he rises over you, arms braced on either side of your head. 

“That’s it,” he murmurs, kissing your forehead. “You did so well for me.”

You blink up at him, but a tear slips down your cheek without you meaning it to. He catches it with his thumb, frowning gently.

“Hey… are you okay? Was that too much? Did I hurt you?” 

You shake your head. “No. Just… no one’s ever done that for me before.”

Relief washes over him, and he leans down, brushing his nose against yours. “They should have. They fucking should have.”

“But if they had,” you sigh. “I wouldn’t be here now—asking you to fuck me.” Your hand trails down his chest, pawing at that sweatshirt again. “Please, Lele. I need you inside me. Now.”

His own breath catches, a sharp inhale trying to hold himself together, but the look in his eyes is pure wreckage.

“Jesus, Y/N,” he groans. “You can’t say shit like that to me or I’ll end up having a repeat of my first time.”

You grin. “That’s rich coming from the man who said he wanted to watch me cum with his mouth on my pussy.”

“Fuck, don’t repeat that back either,” he grits out through clenched teeth. “Seriously, baby, you have no idea how hard I’m trying not to cum in my pants right now.”

You tilt your head, voice teasing. “You could always take your pants off and cum on my stomach instead.”

“Y/N,” he growls. “What happened to my sweet, innocent girl who was too scared to show me the prettiest tits in the world two seconds ago?”

“Oh, so what? You’re the only one who gets to have a dirty mouth in this relationship?”

His brow lifts, eyes narrowing in amusement. “This relationship, huh?”

You freeze. “No—I—that’s not what I meant—”

He brushes a strand of hair behind your ear, then leans in, lips padding against your skin as he nibbles softly at your earlobe. “Yes, it is. If we go any further, that’s exactly what you meant. I’m the only man for the bill ever, remember?”

You whimper, and he smirks, victorious.

“Glad we cleared that up.”

And then he’s moving—finally stripping off that damn sweatshirt in one fluid motion, revealing warm, flushed skin and lean muscle that shivers under your stare. Without another second, his mouth slams back onto yours before you can compliment him, kissing you hard and rough until your lips are pouty and swollen all over again.

When he breaks the kiss, it’s only to shove his pants down and fumble with his boxers, his breath ragged as he slides a condom over his cock. Then, he peppers kisses along your cheek until his forehead rests against yours.

“You’re sure about this?” his voice shakes as he breathes against your lips. “Tell me now if you’re not.”

“I’m sure,” you whisper, arms winding around his neck, pulling him close—pulling him in. “I want you. I want this.”

Chenle curses softly at that and shifts between your legs. His hand slides behind your thigh, gently parting you as he lines himself up with your pussy.

“Then I’ve got you,” he says. “I’ll take care of you. Just hold on to me, yeah?”

And you do—fingers clutching at his shoulders, heart hammering in your chest because this is happening—with him. When he finally pushes inside, it hits you all at once. The sharp, stretching ache of it. The fullness.

You can’t help but wince, a quiet hiss escaping through clenched teeth.

His thumb reaches up to stroke your cheek, his voice immediately soft. “You good?”

Tears sting at your eyes, but you nod anyway, adjusting slowly, breath by breath, until the sting eases and you feel the pain turn to something else—something good.

Only then does he move.

You gasp, arching into him, nails dragging down his back as he builds a rhythm that’s toe-curling. His lips find your neck, muttering your name, and you moan back eagerly because of how good it feels—how good he feels. 

“Fuck, you feel like heaven,” he groans, forehead still pressed to yours. “So tight, so wet—shit, baby, you were made for me.”

You whimper, clutching him closer, your legs wrapping around his waist instinctively. “Faster,” you beg. “Please, Chenle—I need more.”

His mouth crashes into yours again, this time messier, hungrier. He pulls back just enough to look down between your bodies, watching the way he disappears inside you. A strangled sound leaves him. 

“Look at that,” he pants. “Taking me so well. Fuck, you’re perfect.”

You can barely breathe—your whole body slick with that tension curling tighter and tighter in your belly as he begins to thrust harder, deeper. The sound of skin meeting skin fills the room. And still, his hands never leave you—one cupping your face, the other gripping your thigh.

“You okay?” he asks between thrusts. “Still with me? Still good?”

You nod feverishly, tears pricking your eyes again. “So good. So fucking good, Lele.”

He groans, leaning down to kiss you again—slower now, gentler, and it’s all so tender, so intimate. 

“I’m close,” he whispers against your lips, barely holding on. “But I want you to finish first. Come on, baby. Cum for me again—let me feel it.”

You moan, hips rocking up to meet his. “I can’t—it's too much—I—”

“Yes, you can,” he insists. “Just let go, baby. You know, you’re safe with me.”

And something about that—you’re safe with me—snaps the final thread.

You fall apart beneath him, moaning his name as your orgasm hits you, harder than the first time. You convulse around him, body trembling, vision blurring—and he follows with a ragged, broken curse, burying himself deep as he cums hard inside the condom, forehead pressed to yours, eyes squeezed shut.

For a moment, the only sound is the echo of your breathing. Then he exhales slowly, his thumb brushing gently over your damp cheek. “You okay?”

You nod. “I’ve never felt anything like that before.”

He smiles. “That’s how it should be. That’s how it’s going to be.”

He doesn’t move right away.

He stays there, inside you, wrapped up in you. But when he finally, carefully pulls out, you whimper softly at the loss, and he murmurs, "I know, baby, I know," like it hurts him too.

He takes care of the condom quickly, tossing it into the bin. Then he’s back—pulling the throw blankets from the sofa over your bodies and curling in beside you. Bare skin to bare skin. Your face presses to his chest, and you can feel the rapid thud of his heart beneath your cheek, slowly beginning to calm.

He kisses the top of your head. Then again. And again. Like he can’t stop.

“I meant it,” he murmurs into your hair. “That’s how it’s going to be. Always.”

Your fingers find his under the blanket and tangle them together. “You took care of me,” you say.

He nods, chin brushing your crown. “Of course I did. You said you trusted me.”

[nmhdreamscape]

bf!dreamies accidentally sending a message for you to the group chat (suggestive ver)

pairing | idol!dreamies x fem!reader

content | really stupid, suggestive but in a funny way

notes | i'm done with the semester, so i'm trying to upload more often! should have something else up tomorrow night :)

© NMHDREAMSCAPE

masterlist requests and asks are open!

[luvyeni]

( reaction ) unintentionally riding them ! ୨୧ 一 엔시티드림 ՞

⸃ ⸰ ⌁ unintentionally riding nct dream on a rideヾ

boyfriend!엔시티드림・ fem!reader ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ g ・ smut ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ cw ・ ‎ nudes , allusions to sex wc ・ ‎n/a ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎| ‎ click to library

request. hear me out…… what about nct dream going with yn to that ride disco pang pang and you end up on top of them (idk if you’ve seen a video that’s been going around where a girl is literally riding other girl😭)

「 ୨୧ authors note 」 those rides are scary as hell i couldn't imagine falling into a strangers lap like the video.

﹙ 𐙚 : mark﹚ .ᐟ

he knows you mean no harm; the ride was quite literally tossing you both around , and you just happened to land on him — but it didn't stop his cock from growing inside is jeans. he's stressed , he knows you feel it. “fu-fuck im so sorry.” he said , your face is hot , cheeks are rosy as you feel him beneath you , he's embarrassed , but so turned on , he was gonna cum . “but fuck you feel good , im sorry , im so sorry .” he's just wishing the damn ride would end.

“fuck im sorry but im about to cum.”

﹙ 𐙚 : renjun﹚ .ᐟ

he's embarrassed as hell; but his ass is not about to let you know that. “re-renjun are you hard?” he scoffed , rolling his eyes. “you're straddling me , and this ride is bouncing you on my dick , of course I'm hard , wouldn't you be hard if you were in my position? i know you're probably turned on right now , don't make it seem like it's only me.” he stressed , he's about to cum in his pants and he wasn't about to give you leverage to further tease him. “oh fuck will this ride ever fucking end.”

“we're leaving this fucking amusement park arter this.”

﹙ 𐙚 : jeno﹚ .ᐟ

his hands immediately come to your waist to hold you from falling when the ride tossed you into his lap. “hi.” he tries to smile it off — even though the ride is practically bouncing you on his dick. you're actually the one profusely apologizing , but he pretends that it doesn't even bother him , even though he's hard a fucking rock and you're riding him unintentionally in front of all these people and he has to force himself not to moan. “i don't think i can get up after this.” he said. “it's already embarrassing with you on top of me.”

“i don't want these people to see my dick hard.”

﹙ 𐙚 : haechan﹚ .ᐟ

shameless motherfucker; you would've thought he was already hard before the ride tossed you into the boys lap. “haechan are you serious?” he smirking holding you close by your waist. “you're grinding on top of me and you're confused as to why im hard.” he scoffed , your eyes widened at his sudden brazen attitude , you knew he was a wild card but even this was too much for you. you only come back when he groans , he doesn't even care.

“fuck if this ride doesn't stop soon i’m gonna cum.”

﹙ 𐙚 : jaemin﹚ .ᐟ

with the smirk on his face , you would've thought he orgistrated the entire thing himself , his hands on your waist , meanwhile you're the one who's embarrassed as hell. “why are you so embarrassed?” he knew you could feel his hard on , he could feel you as well. “im-im glad you're having a good time.” you on the other hand , your body was on fire. “I am baby i am.” the ride still tossing you around but he made sure to hold you still.

“but i'm more excited about the time we're about to have when we get off this ride.”

﹙ 𐙚 : chenle﹚ .ᐟ

completely turns it on you; yeah he's the one thats hard , but you're the one on top of him and you're the one who caused it in his eyes , not the ride. “if you wanted to ride me you should've just asked , not force me on this nauseating ride so you can do it shamelessly.” you wanted to slap him so bad , but you were too busy grabbing the bar to keep yourself from flying off. “sh-shut up.” your face hot from embarrassment as you straddled him. “im not gonna cum in my pants like a teenager.”

“but all bets are off when we get off this ride.”

﹙ 𐙚 : jisung﹚ .ᐟ

he wants to kill himself to moment he feels you on top of him; his face is red , he wanted to die — but it felt good and that's what made him feel like a pervert , because it wasn't sexual , but his stupid cock didn't seem to get the message. he swore the person who managed the ride had something against him because the ride was never ending and no matter how many times you tried to get up , the ride was plopping you back into his lap. “ji-jisung.” your hands holding his shoulders , he stops you before you can finish.

“please don't say anything , im sorry , so fucking sorry.”

©LUVYENI

[ttjisung]

perv! dreamies x jisung’s gf! reader drabble

thinking about being jisung’s new girlfriend and meeting his weird friends :3

cw: honestly just unhinged behavior from them all… getting caught during sex (they overhear but you don’t know), mentioned cum eating and bjs, masturbation (m), almost a reverse harem but you’re loyal to ji (wc: 1.1k)

♥︎ honestly, the dreamies swore they couldn’t care less when jisung announced he had a new girlfriend. sure, they hyped him up a bit considering it was his first relationship, but they never spent more than a minute thinking about it, until they finally met you. stepping into his apartment and hugging him quickly before shyly waving and introducing yourself to the rest of the members. you were so cute, so endearing, but also so hot parading in your small outfit. how the hell did jisung do that? 

♥︎ haechan swore under his breath when you turned around to look at jisung nervously, the tiny skirt you were wearing barely covering anything, almost bare for all of them to see. later that night, he was up talking to mark, both agreeing that you were dressed a bit slutty, not that they were complaining. you must know how to get around then, right? they couldn’t be more wrong. you were worse than jisung, stuttering and turning red in panic any time haechan would approach you and try to talk to you. he truly didn’t mean anything bad later on when he’d text mark and they’d spend longer than they’d like to admit talking about how easy it’d be to corrupt you. you weren’t meant for jisung, your personality too shy like his. in haechan’s opinion, you needed someone like him to dominate you, make you feel so good. that’s what he tell himself as he stares at you with lust in his eyes every time you walk past him.

♥︎ mark wasn’t as obvious as haechan, treating you like a gentleman and holding small, kind conversations with you when jisung was busy getting ready for your date. you arrived early to their shared apartment, and wouldn’t it be so rude for mark to leave you all alone? for all he knows, jisung could take an extra half an hour simply trying on new shirts to impress you. you’d be sitting on the couch awkwardly for too long, and mark didn’t think that was an appropriate way to treat guests. is it more appropriate for him to sit a little bit too close to you, thighs touching as he rants about another track he’s working on? probably not, but you don’t even notice the way his knuckles are turning white from gripping the couch, wishing it was you he could be touching.

♥︎ jeno was gentle with you, always smiling in your direction and letting you rant to him about jisung as if he was your best friend, not your boyfriend’s. you honestly didn’t see him much though, considering he was also busy at the gym or working at the small cafe down the street. he always made sure to bring you special treats, insisting they were leftovers and it was no problem when you’d get nervous about his awfully kind offer. you’d never even notice the way he’d bite his lip when you’d lick the white frosting off another cupcake. it was just a strange coincidence that every leftover pastry resembled the white shots of cum that would lay on his stomach after another night of jerking off to you. he knows you’d be shy, taking your time and licking him up and down, or at least he thinks so as he strokes himself again and again.

♥︎ jaemin was like a more overbearing version of haechan, if possible. using the excuse that his personality’s always been flirty, he doesn’t even bother hiding his touches and suggestive words, sometimes even grabbing your waist tightly while you reach over to grab a cup from the cupboard. confusing his hands for jisung’s, because who else would be holding you like that, you blush and laugh a little bit, fueling him to press against you. it isn’t until you realize it’s him that you pout and step away, ignoring the cup you were trying to get, eyes never leaving the ground when you rush to find your boyfriend. you almost miss the way he smirks and follows after you, sitting down next to jisung when you both arrive at the living room, as if nothing happened. 

♥︎ chenle’s loud, bold but in a different way. his strategy is more focused on embarrassing you. leave it to him to mock the moans he overheard the night before coming from jisung’s room, imitating your noises in front of the whole group before laughing loudly. it’s to a point where you only initiate intimate moments with your boyfriend at your apartment, out of fear that chenle will be listening and getting ready to bring it up at the worst times ever again. what you don’t understand is how he even knows what you do with jisung, considering his room is the furthest from his, and you always try your best to muffle both your moans. the idea of chenle leaning against jisung’s closed door, palming himself through his shorts, ear pressed closely, praying he’ll witness one of your cute whimpers again to finish himself off, never ever crosses your mind, because that would be insane…

♥︎ like jeno, renjun is quiet, observing you almost every time you come over. he’s not mean per se, at least not like chenle who asks you the most vulgar questions about your sex life, no, renjun’s more curious. when you spend the night, and you’re in the kitchen the morning after preparing some tea, he’ll be there, staring at you and not saying anything. at first you found it unnerving, yet jisung insisted that he was just like that, and it was normal. your boyfriend’s words did little to ease the harsh glare of renjun’s eyes on your collarbone and neck, almost searching for any blemish, any proof that you’re not as innocent as you claim to be. when he finds out he’s right, staring at the reddish purple bruise laying under your ear, he’s quick to pour out what’s left of the drink in his mug, stepping away and off to his room, right next to jisung’s. what you don’t know is that renjun was already aware, rearranging his room for his bed to be next to the wall separating you both, just to hear you late at night. 

♥︎ neither you or jisung are aware of the groupchat the six share, long rants with detailed descriptions of their interactions with you, what they hear overnight, what they see when you both think you’re home alone, not bothering to close the door fully before getting on your knees for jisung. he’s innocent in the matter, at least that’s what you think. little do you know, he’s in on it, covering his face with his large hand to conceal the proud grin as he notices everyone checking you out. knowing he’s the only one who’s tasted you, felt you, and that’s how it’ll always be. if it’s enough to satisfy his friends, they can keep their little chats, at least he’s the only one that gets you at the end of the night. maybe when he fucks you extra rough at night, he’ll finally prove to his friends that he might be the youngest, but definitely not the most innocent!

a/n: a little sorry gift because i always say i'm coming back and then end up ghosting this app... why am i giving evil ex :/ my promises mean nothing atp but i swear i'm trying to update the most i can soon. forgive me queens >_<