#nct dream x reader | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

angstama · 3 days ago

Text

10 ; spaces between us | l.jn

pairing: dad!lee jeno x f!reader (ft. na jaemin)

genre: angst, slight fluff, co-parenting

synopsis — three years after divorcing jeno, you've found a careful rhythm in co-parenting your son jun. the old fights about his work schedule and emotional distance have faded into polite exchanges and shared custody arrangements. but when small moments of connection start to feel like second chances, you begin to hope that maybe you could try again. though, it all falls apart when jeno asks to introduce jun to his new girlfriend. suddenly, you're forced to confront a devastating truth: the man who claimed he "wasn't good at relationships" during your marriage has apparently learned how to love properly—he just needed someone else to do it with.

a/n: hey loveliessss~ i'm so sorry chapter 10 took awhile :") turns out i've developed this thing called allergy rhinitis which honestly made me feel really sluggish throughout the day. i was also really busy and was going through a major heartbreak *laughs* (it's okay everything is fine now...) but alas, chapter 10!!!!! thank you so much for the patience :"))) my inbox is also flooded with a lot of asks, i promise i'm getting to them as fast as i can (i only get to do this at night after a long dayyy so please give me some time ( ꩜ ᯅ ꩜;)⁭ ⁭

sbu m.list | previous | next chapter

jeno doesn't know what's more nerve-wracking.

the fact that you were still ignoring his texts—his calls, his hesitant attempts to reach out and ask how you were doing… or the fact that he’s currently sitting stiffly across from soomin’s parents, in a dining room far too silent for comfort.

the table was lavishly set, polished cutlery, sparkling glasses, and dishes that looked too pristine to touch. and yet, no one had touched a thing. the air hung heavy, like something unsaid was resting on everyone’s shoulders. jeno shifted in his seat, forcing a polite smile as he glanced between mr. and mrs. han—both of whom wore expressions far too difficult to read.

he could feel a bead of sweat start to form near his temple. soomin sat beside him, posture perfect, as if she wasn’t feeling the pressure that was currently crushing his chest. her fingers occasionally brushed against his under the table, a silent attempt to offer comfort—but even that felt foreign. detached. like something rehearsed.

he tried to breathe normally, but all he could think about was the silence. and you.

you, who once held his hand under the table and made sarcastic comments that made him choke on his water.

you, who would’ve made a face at how fancy the salad looked and asked for rice instead.

you, who he hadn’t heard from in days and unsure if you'll even let him see jun when tomorrow — saturday, rolls over.

"please, jeno, don't stand on ceremony. help yourself." mr. han's voice was smooth, almost warm—but the underlying edge in his tone was impossible to miss. he gestured toward the piece of hanwoo steak resting on jeno's plate, glistening under the dining room’s gold-tinged lights, almost like it was watching him too. "let’s dig in," he added, finally lifting his utensils.

mrs. han said nothing, her movements silent and methodical as she sliced into her own portion. soomin followed suit, equally quiet, her face unreadable. the only sound that filled the room was the soft clinking of silverware against fine porcelain.

jeno picked up his utensils mechanically, carving a piece of steak without really seeing it. it could’ve been rubber, for all he knew. everything felt muted, like he was underwater—except the pressure in his chest. that felt sharp. heavy. inescapable.

“so,” mr. han started again, his tone deceptively casual, “how did the check-up on our grandbaby go today?”

jeno froze for a fraction of a second. but the question hadn’t been directed at him. soomin dabbed the corner of her mouth with her napkin before replying. “baby’s healthy, appa. doctor said just try not to overexert or stress myself out, that’s all.”

"good," mr. han nodded, finally glancing up—but not at his daughter. his eyes landed on jeno like a quiet dare. "stress is no good. especially now." jeno nodded stiffly, trying not to choke on the bite he hadn’t even swallowed yet.

mr. han didn’t stop. “and how’s the ongoing case looking?”

suddenly, the air tightened. soomin paused mid-cut, her gaze flicking to jeno but his eyes didn't lift from his plate. not even when he felt her silently urging him to say something. “we’re doing all we can,” she said instead, her voice cool, measured.

jeno hated the way the words sat between them, like a brick on the table. they were both trying to sound confident, but he knew mr. han could smell blood in the water. he stabbed another piece of steak and forced it into his mouth, chewing slowly as the tension buzzed in his skull.

“hm, i heard your ex-wife is the primary legal counsel on the case, jeno.” mr. han’s tone was smooth, but the look he gave jeno was anything but casual. “i’m sure you know what to do?” the question sliced through the room like a blade.

jeno froze—mid-cut, fork and knife suspended in air. it was as if he’d been caught red-handed, like a boy caught sneaking out of class. mrs. han finally looked up from her plate, her sharp eyes locking on him. the air shifted. suddenly, all eyes were on jeno.

soomin’s brows furrowed slightly, turning toward him. she didn’t say a word, but her silence said everything.

she was waiting for him. expecting him to back her. expecting him to stand on the same side.

jeno swallowed hard.

“ah…” he began, slowly setting down his utensils. his voice came out low, careful. “i’m not sure if there’s… anything i can do.” the words felt flimsy the moment they left his mouth. even he didn’t believe them.

mr. han’s brows furrowed, his jaw tightening as he set down his wine glass with a soft clink. “what do you mean you’re not sure there’s anything you can do?” his voice was firmer now, displeasure bleeding into every syllable. “tell her to drop the case.”

jeno looked up finally, meeting mr. han’s gaze for the first time tonight. it was like looking into the eyes of someone who’d already decided how the game would end—and was simply waiting for you to fall in line.

“it’s not that simple,” jeno said, quieter than he meant to. he glanced at soomin, whose face was hard to read now. “she’s doing her job. the same way we are.”

“jeno,” mr. han’s tone dipped. “we’re talking about your family here. your child. your future. and you’re telling me you can’t convince your ex-wife to let go of something that’s clearly a waste of time?”

jeno clenched his jaw. because deep down, he knew it wasn’t a waste of time. not to you. he looked back at his plate. but the hanwoo had gone cold. and so had the room.

“she’s also the mother of my firstborn, sir…” jeno’s voice was measured, but the tension in his posture gave him away—his shoulders drawn, jaw tightening as if the weight of jun’s name alone pulled something inside of him taut.

at the mention of your son, mr. han scoffed, shaking his head as he set his utensils down with a quiet clink.

“and you’re marrying my only daughter,” he said, voice laced with irritation. “she’s carrying your child. seriously—what are you trying to get at, jeno? pay your ex-wife a ransom and i’m sure everything will be solved.” he huffed, like it was the most obvious solution in the world.

jeno stilled. the comment burned—crude, dismissive, reducing you and jun to little more than obstacles. and though his expression barely shifted, his hand slowly curled into a fist beneath the table.

“with all due respect, sir,” jeno began, his voice clipped but calm, “i love your daughter. and i’m committed to building a life with her. but this case—it’s not about personal grudges. it’s bigger than that. y/n’s not going to drop it just because i asked her to.”

mr. han narrowed his eyes. “and why not?” he challenged.

jeno exhaled slowly, trying to keep his frustration in check. “because there are people relying on her. victims who were silenced, workers who lost their livelihoods—she’s their voice in court. asking her to walk away from that... it’s not just selfish, it’s wrong.”

silence.

jeno glanced at soomin, but she didn’t look at him. her face was unreadable, her lips slightly pursed as her thumb grazed her stomach—an unconscious movement he noticed instantly. mrs. han cleared her throat softly, but didn’t speak.

“you think we’re guilty?”

jeno didn’t answer immediately. his throat tightened, every instinct screaming at him to tread carefully. but at the same time, he couldn’t bring himself to lie. not here. not about this.

“appa,” soomin’s voice came soft but firm, trying to de-escalate the tension. “please.”

but mr. han wasn’t having it.

he leaned forward slightly, knuckles pressed against the edge of the table. “if you want this baby… if you so much as wish to marry my daughter—get it sorted,” he hissed, spitting the words like venom. “or forget it.”

and with that, he stood, tossing the cloth napkin onto the plate with finality. the sound echoed.

mrs. han stood as well, rushing to his side with a soft gasp, her fingers wrapping gently around his arm to calm him as he stormed out of the room.

the door shut behind them with a dull thud.

the silence that followed was deafening.

jeno sat frozen, his hands clenched tightly on his lap, eyes fixed on the now-empty seat across from him.

on the other side of the city, far from the glittering halls and polished speeches of the gala, the night felt different—softened by laughter, laced with something gentle.

jaemin held your hand in his, fingers loosely intertwined as he guided you down the quiet street. his suit jacket draped over your shoulders like a makeshift blanket, its sleeves brushing your thighs. you shuffled beside him in his sneakers—slightly too big, your heels long since abandoned to his other hand.

"where are you taking me, mr. na jaemin?" you giggled, slightly breathless from trying to keep pace with him.

he turned just enough to flash you that boyish smile, the one that made your stomach flutter. “you’ll see,” he said, tugging you closer to his side when you wandered a little too far towards the road. “it’s a surprise.”

the walk ended at a small taco stand parked beside the han river—humble, glowing in warm yellow lights strung across its canopy. the sound of soft sizzling came from the grill, blending into the hum of city life. in the distance, the skyline shimmered, reflecting off the gentle ripples of the water.

jaemin ordered for the both of you—pulled beef for himself, fish tacos for you. you didn’t even remember telling him that was your favorite. he remembered anyway.

the two of you made your way down to the stone steps by the river, where the city felt like a soft lullaby. the breeze was cool, tugging lightly at your hair. jaemin placed the food down with care, pouring the diet coke into two flimsy plastic cups provided by the store owner at the stand.

"this is what we're having for our first date?" you teased, opening your taco wrapper as you peeked at him through the fringe of your lashes.

jaemin gave an exaggerated gasp. “you like tacos, don’t you?” he grinned, nudging your arm playfully. “besides, nothing else is open around here. unless you wanna go to a convenience store and eat triangle kimbap by the gas pump.”

the buzz of the wine was fading now, and for the first time that night, you really looked at him. really saw him. his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, the fine edges of his dress shirt relaxed, collar unbuttoned. the same suit jacket now hung loosely around your shoulders. he looked... comfortable. like this version of him had been waiting quietly behind all those gala smiles and polished introductions.

the conversation had long wandered past small talk. somehow, you’d covered everything from favorite ramen brands to dream vacations to your most embarrassing high school moments—like the universe was letting you press unpause on a connection that had always been just slightly out of reach.

“wait,” you laughed, nudging your shoulder into his playfully, “so you’re telling me you’ve always liked me?”

jaemin chuckled, mid-bite of his taco. “i mean… well… now that you’re not with jeno, i suppose i can finally say yes.”

you raised a brow, amused. “wow. that long, huh?”

“back then, you and jeno were basically conjoined,” he teased, gesturing vaguely with his taco. “and honestly, he used to give me the nastiest glare whenever i came within a five-meter radius.”

you snorted. “yeah, he really doesn’t like you, jaem.”

“understandable,” he said smugly. “most men tend to feel threatened when i’m around their girlfriends.” you rolled your eyes, laughing, when he suddenly leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees. “but, you know,” he said more gently now, “i left you something on graduation day.”

you blinked. “huh?”

“a little box. cheesecake crumbs. tucked it into your tote bag.”

your eyes widened as the memory clicked—the small container, the little short note and the golden crust pieces nestled inside. back then, you assumed your mom packed it. you'd eaten every bite, weirdly touched by the gesture without knowing where it came from.

"everybody say cheese!" your mother waved, her voice bright and lilting, the lens of her camera trained on the group. you beamed too, tilting your face toward jeno as he wrapped a secure arm around your waist. you kissed his cheek, and he grinned, fingers gently tipping the edge of your graduation cap like it was a crown.

the air smelled like fresh blooms and summer heat. laughter filled the courtyard—students in flowing gowns, proud parents, and friends squeezing in last-minute photos before scattering into the world.

not far from you stood jaemin, a quiet observer at the edge of the crowd.

he wasn’t wearing a cap and gown that day. he had finished his credits early, quietly, never quite one for the spotlight. but he came anyway, hovering by the sidelines, hands shoved in his pockets, a crooked smile tugging his lips as he watched the scene.

your scene.

you and jeno, glowing, surrounded by friends. chen le’s arm thrown around mark’s shoulder as the four of you posed together—jeno’s hand never once leaving your waist.

it would’ve been easy to walk away. but instead, jaemin lingered, the corners of his smile faltering just slightly.

in his hand, he held a small box—carefully taped, a note scrawled on the top that read: “for the biscuit girl.”

inside were homemade cheesecake biscuit crumbs. the night before, he had stayed up past midnight, trying to get the texture just right. he had remembered—months ago, maybe even a year—overhearing you complain to jeno about how the cheesecake was always in the way of the best part: the base.

“honestly, they should just sell the crumbs,” you’d joked.

he’d never forgotten.

he watched for a moment longer, then, with a quiet sigh, turned to leave. before he could, he spotted your famous brown tote bag sitting beside a tree near your mom’s foldable chair. taking a quick glance around, he made his way over and, without a sound, slipped the box inside.

then he left.

he never expected you to know it was him.

your mouth dropped open in disbelief. “wait—that was you? i thought my mom packed that as a surprise!”

jaemin looked ridiculously pleased with himself, sipping from the straw of his now-watery soda. “well, technically it was a surprise.”

you laughed, shaking your head. “they were really good. i thought about them for weeks.”

“i spent three hours baking just to get that perfect crunch,” he said dramatically, placing a hand over his heart. “but alas, the girl of my dreams was busy kissing her boyfriend in front of my face.”

you burst into laughter, nudging him again—gentler this time. “stop. i’m the girl of your dreams?”

his hand fell from his chest, and the smirk on his lips softened into something more sincere. he nodded once, slowly, as his eyes found yours—unwavering, open, vulnerable. “you are.”

you blinked, your laughter fading as the weight of his words settled between you. he looked down at your lips for a moment, then back to your eyes, his voice quieter now, stripped of bravado. “i’m not good with emotions and all that,” he admitted, his fingers rubbing absently at the hem of his sleeve. “but when i ran into you again at the supermarket… i don’t know, it felt like a second chance. like the big guy up there decided to throw me a bone.”

he glanced up at the night sky for a moment, the stars too faint to see against the city glow. when he looked back at you, he was serious. “i’m not gonna ask you to be mine. not yet. because i know your heart… a part of it still belongs to jeno. and i respect that.”

you opened your mouth to say something, but he gently shook his head and continued.

“but i’ll be here. i’ll keep showing up. i’ll be honest with my feelings, even when it’s scary. because for once, i don’t want to run from something real.”

his words struck something deep inside you. the sincerity. the tenderness. the quiet bravery of it all. and suddenly, it was hard to breathe.

the space between you was barely anything now. his thigh brushed against yours. his breath warm and steady in the cool night air. your eyes lingered on his—hopeful, terrified, and entirely certain all at once.

“kiss me,” you whispered, your voice barely a thread, your gaze flickering to his lips.

he blinked. “what?”

you smiled softly. “i said kiss me.”

you leaned in just the slightest bit, and that was all it took. jaemin reached for the back of your head with one hand, the other curling gently around your jaw, and pulled you toward him. his lips crashed into yours—not rough, not rushed, but full of something he’d been holding in for years.

it was warm. it was steady. it was real.

and in that moment, the world didn’t feel so heavy. not with his hand in your hair, and yours tangled in his shirt, and the han river glistening behind you like a silent witness to a beginning long overdue.

you woke up to the soft golden light of morning spilling through your curtains, a quiet stillness hanging in the air. the first thing you felt was warmth—real, grounded warmth. as your eyes fluttered open, you realized jun was nestled tightly between you and jaemin, his tiny arms wrapped possessively around jaemin’s arm like a teddy bear.

you let out a soft sigh, the kind that slipped out without permission—a breath of relief, a quiet exhale of contentment. you didn’t even remember when jun had crawled into bed last night. maybe sometime after you and jaemin had fallen asleep talking, voices hushed in the dark. but the sight before you now—jun’s peaceful face pressed into jaemin’s side, and jaemin’s arm curled instinctively around him—was more than enough to soften your heart.

gently, you peeled the blanket off and sat up, careful not to wake either of them. you stretched, arms overhead, your body still warm from sleep and softness.

“where are you going?” came jaemin’s low, raspy voice, his words heavy with sleep. he shifted a little, eyes barely open.

you immediately raised your hand, index finger pressed to your lips before pointing at jun. “shh,” you whispered, gesturing to the boy still fast asleep beside him.

jaemin followed your hand with his eyes and mouthed an exaggerated “oh,” giving a tiny nod as he relaxed back into the mattress, careful not to jostle jun.

“just getting some water. i’ll be back,” you whispered, leaning down to kiss jun lightly on the forehead and offering jaemin a soft smile.

he nodded again, watching you with sleep-drenched eyes and the faintest smile tugging at the corners of his lips. one hand peeked out from the blanket, waving at you lazily as you padded quietly toward the kitchen.

you were just about to bring the glass of warm water to your lips when a soft knock echoed through the apartment. you froze. maybe it was the pipes. or the wind. you waited, standing still in the quiet kitchen, heart slowing—until it came again. this time louder. more deliberate.

you turned slowly towards the front door, eyes flicking to the clock on the wall.

7:00am.

it too early for a delivery. too early for anyone to be visiting.

you set your glass down with a soft clink against the countertop and moved towards the door, barefoot against the cold floor, the morning silence wrapping around you like a warning.

as you reached the door, you hesitated for a second before peeking through the peephole. your heart dropped instantly when you saw who was standing on the other side of the door.

jeno.

he stood with his head bowed slightly, eyes fixed on the welcome mat like it held all the answers he didn’t have. his hands were shoved deep into the pockets of his denim, the soft rise and fall of his chest visible even from your side of the door. he wasn’t fidgeting or pacing—he was just… waiting.

your hand hovered over the doorknob, frozen.

you hadn’t seen him in days, maybe even weeks. not since that the day you left his place.

and now he was here, unannounced. at seven in the morning.

your heart pounded hard against your chest as questions flooded your mind. why now? why here? what does he want?

you hesitated.

your hands trembled lightly on the knob.

you could turn around, pretend you weren’t home, pretend you didn’t see him—but you knew he knew. your car was in the driveway. the porch light was still on. you were awake. you were always awake at this hour.

so you took a breath. and then another. and slowly, with a soft click of the lock, you opened the door.

the cold morning air slipped between the crack before the full weight of jeno’s presence did.

he looked up the moment he heard the door creak open, and for a second—just one fleeting second—you swore you saw his shoulders relax.

his eyes met yours.

"y/n," his eyes widened, voice low, rough around the edges. like he'd been up all night. "i wasn't sure if you were gonna open the door."

you stood in the doorway, expression unreadable, the early sun casting a golden outline around you.

“what are you doing here, jeno?” you asked quietly.

“can we talk?” jeno’s voice was low, tentative. he took a small step forward—reflexively, you stepped back.

as if he might hurt you.

that tiny movement was enough to make him freeze, guilt flashing across his face. he quickly stepped back again, like he understood.

“please,” he said, his voice almost a whisper now. “i’m not here to fight. i just… i just need you to hear me out.” you shut your eyes tightly, fingers pressing into your temples as a frustrated sigh tore through your chest.

why can’t you just have peace? the ache in your chest returned, sharp and familiar.

the betrayal of finding out soomin's pregnant. the weight of everything jeno had broken inside you, still shattering in new ways.

yet, despite it all…

you still wanted to hear him out.

you still wanted to give him that chance.

foolish.

foolish you.

foolish y/n.

“we can talk,” you muttered, wrapping your arms around yourself like a shield. “but not here. outside.”

you sat on the steps together, silence stretched thick between you. the roads still empty, morning barely arrived, but the air already felt too heavy to breathe.

five minutes passed before either of you spoke.

“i’m sorry,” jeno said, finally breaking the silence. his fingers were fumbling over each other, nervously twisting the hem of his sleeve. he couldn't look at you.

“i wanted to tell you about the pregnancy,” he continued, voice barely audible. “but… things hadn’t been great between us. and i didn’t know how to bring it up. there was never a good time.”

you let out a sharp, bitter laugh. “never a good time? jeno, there were plenty of times. you just didn’t have the courage.”

he flinched at your words.

you hated how true they were. and you hated even more how much it hurt to say them.

jeno—who once knew every version of you. who memorised every sleeping pattern you had and knew what that meant, jeno, who traced constellations on your back, jeno, who kissed your dreams into your skin—felt like a stranger now.

a cowardly stranger with a child on the way.

and somehow, part of you still mourned him.

“be honest with me, jeno,” you said, your voice low and worn thin. “how far along is she?”

you didn’t want the answer. your heart was already bracing for the blow. but you needed to know—had to know—when it would happen.

when would he finally let go of the invisible string that still tied him to you? when would he stop pretending like he still belonged in the life you built with jun? when would he start truly becoming someone else’s?

jeno hesitated, his lips parting, then pressing together again. he lowered his gaze, and for a moment, you swore he almost didn’t say it.

but then—quietly, like a confession— “…three months.”

your world shifted.

three months.

the air left your lungs. your heart dropped straight to your stomach. the math came rushing in before you could stop it—three months ago, he was still at your place, laughing on the couch, cooking breakfast, falling asleep next to jun like it was the most natural thing in the world.

three months ago, you were still hoping.

still holding on.

still pretending your little family could somehow fix itself.

and all that time, he already knew. he already made his choice.

your stomach turned, a sour ache building in your throat.

god, it hurt.

please god, your heart cried. take it back. make it stop. let me un-know it.

but there was no going back now.

“three months,” you repeated, your voice trembling as you let out a bitter laugh. “so what then? if things never got better between us, were you just gonna wait until she gives birth to tell me?”

you looked at him with storm in your eyes.

he was shrinking in front of you.

and it only made you angrier.

“or maybe when your other kid graduates college? when you're walking them down the aisle? what, jeno? when were you going to tell me?”

jeno said nothing.

his silence screamed.

he couldn’t meet your eyes—because if he did, he’d have to see what he’d done.

he’d have to see the damage.

he’d have to witness the ruin of the woman who once trusted him with everything.

you stared at him, jaw clenched, fury and heartbreak mixing in your chest like poison.

and all he could do was sit there, quiet and small, in the storm he created.

jeno’s voice cracked as he whispered again, “i’m sorry.”

but his words felt hollow, empty against the storm raging inside you.

“don’t you dare tell me sorry,” you snapped, the venom cutting through the air. “tell jun you’re sorry. tell him you’re sorry for being such a shitty father.”

your voice trembled, but you didn’t stop. “you know what? why even bother having another kid if you can’t even finish this one? were you that eager to start another family so quickly? is that how much you hate me? so much that you’re willing to build a whole new family with someone else?”

the anger surged in you, a fiery mix of betrayal and grief. but beneath it all, the pain—raw, jagged, unbearable.

you hated this feeling. hated how it swallowed your chest whole.

“i can take anything you throw at me,” you admitted through clenched teeth, your voice breaking. “but jun? fuck, jeno...” a sob ripped from deep within your soul as you crumpled, tears spilling freely now, raw and unfiltered.

“jun... he shouldn’t have to wonder about his worth. shouldn’t have to question why his own dad can be there, fully, for another child but not for him.” your voice cracked, desperate and aching. “he doesn’t deserve that. god, jeno...” you cried, your heart bleeding open in front of him, vulnerable and shattered.

“and i told you before—we’re not ready,” you said, voice raw and trembling, desperation creeping in as you fought to wipe away the tears streaming down your cheeks. “but for you, jeno...” your hands shook as they pressed against your face, trying to hold yourself together. “for you, i was willing to go through the pain of childbirth, even though i was so fucking scared.”

you swallowed hard, your breath hitching as you pressed on, voice thick with emotion. “for you, i gave up my dreams. i never said it out loud before, but i’m not angry about it—because jun was also the best thing that ever happened to me.” your chest heaved with a shaky breath. “but i want you to sit with that. i want you to realise how much i sacrificed. how much i gave up for you—because i fucking loved you. and you... you broke me.”

your body trembled uncontrollably, the weight of everything crashing down on you. “you fucking left me like none of it ever mattered.”

“you wrecked everything,” you said, voice sharp and trembling with hurt, your eyes burning as you locked onto his. “all our plans—everything we dreamed of, everything we hoped for. and i had to pick up the pieces and put it all back together by myself.” your chest tightened, words pouring out like a bitter flood. “i just wanted you to show up. just once. you just had to fucking show up. and you couldn’t even do that.”

jeno didn’t flinch. he didn’t look away or try to soften your words. instead, he stood still, swallowing the weight of your rage like a punishment he fully deserved. his shoulders slumped slightly, as if the burden of your disappointment physically pressed down on him. his eyes glistened, raw and heavy with guilt, but he made no excuse.

he whispered, voice barely audible, “you’re right.”

the silence that followed was thick with everything left unsaid—regret, anger, and the vast gulf that had opened between you.

jeno’s mind reeled, the painful truth settling deep inside him: he had broken something vital in you, something he feared could never heal. he hated himself for it. worse, he knew what he was about to ask next would be unbearable—to ask you to drop the case against soomin, to ask for peace where there was none.

his voice cracked as he finally spoke, each word fragile. “i don’t deserve your forgiveness. but... i had no choice and i'm worried if i don't ask, they're going to do something.”

“can you consider dropping the case against jewel corporation.”

and that was the final blow.

you stared at him, disbelief and pain swirling fiercely in your eyes. the weight of his words felt like a knife twisting deeper inside your chest. in the midst of your argument, pouring your heart out about the destruction he’d caused in your life, jeno decided to ask you to do the one thing he knew you'd never do.

and that snapped something in you.

“i’m done.” you shook your head, disbelief and hurt thick in your voice. “i don’t deserve this. i really do not deserve this.” you raised your hand in surrender, as if warding him off.

“i’m not going to drop the case against your girlfriend. not because i’m jealous of her but because there are real people out there who are suffering because of them.” your finger jabbed accusingly, the anger clear and sharp. “but i can’t believe you’re asking me this. you are fucking crazy jeno.” you screamed at him, voice cracking with fury and heartbreak.

“and i’m so angry.” you pointed to yourself, frustration clear as day. “no screw that, i’m not angry. i'm in pain. and you put me here.” you paused, hands balled into fists, trembling with emotion. “the person who’s supposed to love me more than anything.”

“i’m in pain that there’s someone in there who makes jun so fucking happy. i’m in pain that someone in there is willing to love me yet here i am, heart still bleeding for you who clearly doesn’t even treat me like a fucking human being anymore.” you pointed towards the house where jaemin and jun slept soundly under your roof.

it was too much to bear. your chest tightened, breath catching as the weight of your emotions overflowed.

and without another word, you got up and left.

because enough was enough.

// to be continued

taglist: @chaoticstrawberryland @bbykaixx @strawberrytyong @desiree-lee @mybearcollective @dilflover44 @kangshinwoolovin @kgneptun @firydst @httpsxnox @justineasian @sunflowerhae @huangberryyy @stelleduarte @luvleenono @ccoristu @gomdoleemyson @tinted-skies @dior-15 @socollectionmoom @blackberrywonie @dinonuguaegi @merakicafee @jenzyoit @haechsauce @lorena-mv33 @taeeflwrr@chocojiji @markleesleftpinky @carelessshootanonymous @l3l3luvs @gigikapptor @notmastyle @seesinblur @myrainbowgelpen @morklee02 @markiesfatbooty

381 notes · View notes

withlovemark · 3 days ago

Text

THE ORGASM DONORS: YOU HAVE BOOKED MARK LEE!

pairing: donor! mark lee x client! reader | genre: smut | words: 9k+

warnings: STRICTLY 18+

an: just 9k of pure, filthy smut…i’m never making it to the gates of heaven. this idea came to me in a dream (a horny, wet dream) all because i fell asleep to a tiktok of jaemin spinning around in his little orgasm donor hoodie. insane what the mind can do. everyone give it up for the first donor! the birthday boy! my number one boy! mark lee! and my last gift to all of you. have fun reading! — with love, c.

you never thought it would get to this point. not because you were ashamed. but there was something about your twenty something’s, this far into adulthood, and still never having an orgasm that made you feel like your body was broken in a way you couldn’t explain.

you’d done everything — read every self help blog, followed the advice on reddit threads, bought a vibrator, a dildo, the rose toy that everyone said was guaranteed to give you a mind bending orgasm, you’d whispered your needs to your previous partners, even screamed at one or two, but no one ever got it right. no one ever got you there. not even yourself.

it started to feel like a cruel joke. something other people could have, just not you. until your best friend leaned in over lunch one lazy sunday, sipping her coffee and said, “have you ever heard of the neo orgasm clinic?”

“oh god,” you laughed, “like a place that teaches you how to come?”

she grinned, “not teaches. they do it for you. and it’s guaranteed.”

you blinked, “what? so i pay for someone to have sex with me?”

“you pay someone to make you orgasm,” she shrugged like it was no big deal, “wouldn’t be the craziest thing in the world,” she says, sipping her coffee with a sly smirk.

and just like that, a seed of curiosity, or maybe desperation, rooted itself in your chest.

✚ BOOK NOW ✚

signing up was easier than expected. discreet, elegant, clinical but not cold. you filled up the introductory form — name, age, contact information, payment details, then moved onto the deeper intake.

step 1: medical verification. a form requesting a recent full panel STI test within the last month.

step 2: sexual preferences & boundaries. the screen lit up with a list and instructions

check all acts you’re open to exploring with your donor. this does not guarantee they will occur. your donor will review and operate within your boundaries at all times.

you skimmed the list, heart racing just a little and checked the following:

☑️ bondage

☑️ choking

☑️ clitoral stimulation

☑️ domination

☑️ dirty talk

☑️ edging

☑️ fingering

☑️ kissing

☑️ impact play

☑️ nipple play

☑️ oral

☑️ orgasm control

☑️ praise

☑️ rough sex

☑️ spanking

☑️ spitting

☑️ vaginal penetration

you hovered over a few others. degradation? group sex? objectification? you skipped them. not this time. you weren’t here to be humiliated — you were here to figure out why the hell your body kept locking up the second anyone touched you like they meant it.

step 3: why are you booking this appointment?

you had to type. no multiple choice. just a blank box waiting to be filled. your fingers hesitate above the keyboard. then you answered:

i’ve never had an orgasm. not from another person. not from myself. i don’t know what’s wrong with me but i’m tired of pretending. i’m tired of faking it. i want to know what it actually feels like. i want to stop being in my head. just for once. i want to let go.

you hit submit before you could overthink it.

step 4: choose your donor.

you clicked through the digital profile list, fingers hovering each name. each donor were vetted, trained, screened and certified in pleasure — not jut sex. these weren’t porn stars. these were licensed professionals. this was science, chemistry and understanding the human body and psyche. or whatever the website said to make you feel better about booking an appointment.

you hovered each name. a few looked promising. one had nice eyes. one had “mean” listed as a keyword. another had glowing reviews for how “slow and gentle” he was.

but then you saw him — mark lee. top donor. most requested. five-star average across every review. the testimonials read like something between a religious experience and the aftermath of a natural disaster.

“didn’t even know my body could do all of that, my god.”

“sweet, respectful, and somehow still completely ruined me.”

“made me orgasm like i’ve never orgasmed before”

and the most repeated one of all:

“i always book mark when he’s available, he knows exactly what to do. a guaranteed orgasm. every time.”

you didn’t even hesitate. you clicked BOOK NOW.

Neo Orgasm Clinic Consultation: CONFIRMED

Donor: Mark Lee

Date of Consultation: July 29, 2025

you stared at your bedroom ceiling in the dark, heart pounding a little too fast. you didn’t know what to expect. you didn’t know what you’d feel. but for the first time in years, you felt hope. and maybe, if the reviews weren’t exaggerating, you were finally about to find out what it meant to feel like your body belonged to you.

✚ THE CONSULTATION ✚

you almost canceled. twice. was this morally questionable? maybe. was it completely insane? absolutely.

but you still showed up. your nerves were coiled so tight they felt like they’d snap with one wrong move. you’d picked out a simple outfit, nothing too suggestive, nothing too uptight. but still, as you sat in the pristine waiting lounge of the neo orgasm clinic, ankles crossed and fingers clenched around your bag strap, you felt entirely exposed.

everything about the clinic was calm, curated. the lighting was soft and golden, the walls a warm cream, subtle scent of lavender and eucalyptus filled the space. the kind of place that looked more like a boutique spa than a place where orgasms were clinically achieved.

even the receptionist was beautiful. sharp suit, glossy hair, delicate bone structure. his name tag read taeyong. he smiled when you walked in like he already knew everything about you. probably because he did.

“first consultation?,” he asked, tilting his head with a practiced sort of empathy.

you nodded, “is it that obvious?”

he chuckled, “only a little,” he teased, “but don’t worry, everyone’s nervous at first.”

taeyong pulled up your file on his screen, “you’ll be with mark today. he’s just finishing up. shouldn’t be more than a few minutes.”

your heart stuttered at the sound of his name. somehow, it felt heavier now. every second you spend in this clinic feeling more real than ever. this wasn’t a fantasy. this wasn’t a dream bordering into a nightmare. this was real. you were going to meet him…anytime now.

taeyong slid a sleek tablet across the desk, “while you wait, kindly review your file, click agree if no changes need to be made. consent is required for everything.”

you nodded, accepting the tablet and settling back in your seat. you skimmed your file one last time then submitted the form. the screen thanked you and welcomed you officially to the program.

exactly five minutes later, the door on the left of the receptionist table, labeled private suites opened with a soft click. and there he was. the man in the website. the top donor. real human being — mark lee.

you blinked. it was like seeing someone you’d only ever imagined walk into reality — all soft black hair, warm eyes, and a smile that was…surprisingly shy for someone with reviews like his. he was dressed in a simple black slacks and a fitted charcoal blazer, sleeves pushed up to reveal veined forearms and a silver watch. professional, polished, but somehow still boyish. he was speaking with someone. a girl that looked around your age. who’d look like she had just had the best time of her life. then she headed to taeyong and mark turned his focus towards you.

“hey,” he said, walking towards you and offering his hand, “you must be, ms. y/n.” you nod, placing your hand in his. his grip was firm, professional, “i’m mark. come follow me,” he said, guiding you toward the doors on the other side of the receptionist table labeled, consultation rooms, “no pressure,” he adds, shooting you a smile, “just talking today.”

the room felt like a cozy therapist’s office. a plush sofa, a low coffee table, a few plants. no examination table. no cold metal instruments. just comfort. mark sat across from you, legs crossed casually, an open tablet in his lap. he offered you water, asked if you were comfortable, then smiled before getting started.

“alright, let’s talk about you,” he said, voice low and calm, “why you’re here. what you’re hoping to get out of this experience.”

you hesitated. you’re sure he already knows. already looked at your file. but still, saying it out loud felt impossible. the words were caught somewhere between your throat and your pride.

“you can open up to me,” he urges softly, patiently, calmly, “we’re both here for you.”

you nodded, finally finding your voice, “ive…never had an orgasm.” you exhaled, eyes lowering, “i’ve tried…a lot…it just….doesn’t happen.”

mark didn’t blink. didn’t smirk. didn’t do anything to make you feel small. instead, he nodded slowly, like he’d heard this before. like it was okay. like you weren’t a complete helpless case. like you weren’t broken.

“thank you for telling me that,” he said softly, “i know it’s not easy to admit out loud but i want you know something — there’s nothing wrong with you.”

you looked up at him, sighing, “feels like there is.”

“i know,” he nodded, “but trust me, there are a million reasons why achieving an orgasm can be difficult — physical, mental, emotional, trauma-related, hormonal, sometimes just bad luck with partners. but it’s not permanent. and it’s not your fault.”

that made you smile, barely, but it was there. he smiled back, warm and nonchalant, “so, you’re not broken. you’re just…unsolved. that’s where i come in.” you swallowed hard. the warmth behind this words caught you off guard.

he tapped a few notes on his tablet before setting it aside, “here’s how this works,” he said, “you set the pace. we take our time. always. you can stop me and say no anytime. nothing happens without your permission. and we don’t even have to do the session unless you’re completely ready.”

you nodded slowly, processing his words, “okay.”

mark studied you for a beat, “do you want to tell me anything else you might have forgotten on your file?”

you hesitated, thinking, “i think i just…want to stop thinking so much. i get in my head. i start worrying about how i look, how i sound, if i’m being too much or not enough. it’s hard to stay in the moment.”

he leaned back, thoughtful, ��so your mind is the roadblock.” he smiled a little, “that’s more common than you think.”

“do you really have a 100% success rate?” you asked quietly.

that made him laugh – not loud, not cocky, just amused in a warm way.

“our stats don’t lie,” he smiles, “but it’s because i take my time, i listen, i pay attention,” his voice dipped, “pleasure isn’t a race to the finish line. it’s a process. one i’d be honored to help you through.”

you felt your cheeks flush. he noticed and softened his voice even more, “you don’t have to decide today but if you’re comfortable, i’d be happy to schedule your first session.”

your pulse quickened, “...yes,” you said, voice barely above a whisper, "i want to.”

his smile returned, warm and sincere, “good,” he said, tapping his screen, “i’ll have taeyong reach out to confirm your appointment date.” he stood up, offering his hand again, “thank you for choosing me.”

you took it and this time your grip was steady, “see you soon, mark.”

Neo Orgasm Clinic Appointment: CONFIRMED

Client: Y/N L/N

Donor: Mark Lee

Date of Session: August 2, 2025

✚ THE APPOINTMENT ✚

you were early. too early. you sat in the same softly lit waiting room, knees bouncing, pulse in your throat. taeyong gave you a knowing smile as he gestured you towards the private suites door and the down the hallway.

“suite 8, he’s ready for you.”

the words made something twist low in your stomach as you walked towards the room. you entered slowly — suite 8 was nothing like you imagined. it wasn't clinical or sterile. it felt more like a luxury hotel room, quiet and warm, wrapped in soft ambient lighting. a large couch sat near the window. there was a bed. there were blankets, clean white sheets and a speaker humming low instrumental music. every detail was designed to ease tension, to invite softness.

you notice him adjusting something on the bedside table, a glass of water, a box of tissues, a towel. and then — mark turned.

“hey,” he said softly, “i’ve been waiting for you.”

he was dressed in black slacks, a black tie and black long sleeve button up, with the sleeves folded up his arms. hot but casual. the entire room, his casual demeanor, made it feel like you’re not at a clinic and just booked a dick appointment like it was a bumble date.

your lips curved, nerves still tangled in your chest, “i-i’m here.”

mark chuckled, not mockingly, but with that same warm, honeyed tone you remember, “you’re cute,” he said simply, “i like that you’re not pretending to be cool.”

you exhaled slowly, “i don’t think i could even if i tried.”

he stepped closer, slow and measured, giving you space with every move, “do you remember what i said during our last meet up?” he asked.

you note how he doesn’t use the word consultation, how he’s trying to make this all seem like it’s a normal hook-up and not a service.

“y-yeah. i’m in control. i can stop you. ask questions. say no.”

“good.” he murmured, his gaze searching yours for a moment longer, “but i’m going to be honest with you.”

his hand lifted, brushing his fingers down your jaw, slow and warm, “tonight, i am going to take control. you came here because your body hasn’t been shown how it deserves to be touched. and i don’t do halfway, sweetheart.”

you swallowed hard.

“so tell me,” he said, tipping your chin up with two fingers, gaze locked on yours, “can i touch you?”

you barely breathed, “yes.”

one of his hands travelled down your arm to your lower back, leaving behind trails of goosebumps in his wake.

“can i kiss you?” he said, eyes locked on yours. your breath caught. you nod.

he didn’t hesitate. mark grabbed your jaw and kissed you — hot, full, unrelenting. he kissed like he owned your mouth. his lips slanted over yours, opening you up, coaxing you open, tongue swept in with purpose — wet, confident, greedy.

you moaned into him, the sound swallowed as his tongue tangled with yours in filthy, practiced patterns. he tilted his head, deepened the angle, sucked softly at your bottom lip only to follow it up with another tongue-heavy kiss that made your spine arch. your hands clutched at his shirt on instinct, dizzy from the pace, the heat, the want.

you feel him smirk through the kiss as he kept going. his hands began to roam, starting at your waist, dragging up your sides, thumbs brushing the undersides of your breasts through your shirt, just enough to make you gasp, then down again, gliding over your hips before settling on cupping your ass. his hands gripping tight and hot.

you squirmed, trying to shift closer but he held you steady. dominant. measured. not rushing but not enough to give you relief either. he guided you towards the couch, lips never leaving yours.

“sit.” he ordered, voice like velvet wrapped around steel. you obeyed without thinking. he kneeled between your legs, grabbing your thighs to pull you to the edge. the kiss resumed, but filthier this time, more desperate. he kissed you like he couldn’t get enough, like he wanted to fuck your mouth with his tongue until you forgot what you’re here for.

“you taste so fucking sweet,” he growled, pausing to bite your bottom lip. slowly. sensually. “bet i’ll find out you taste even sweeter somewhere else.” you gasped, trembling. his fingers were already under your shirt, dragging it up inch by inch, “arms up, baby.”

you lifted your arms, dazed, his use of pet names making it feel way more romantic than it should. he carefully peeled your shirt over your head and tossed it aside, hands immediately finding your bare skin, palms dragging up your ribs, thumbs brushing the peaks of your breasts through your bra. you leaned toward him instinctively and he chuckled.

“sensitive,” he muttered, “good. i want every part of you begging.” he kissed you again, harder this time, wet and open, lips slick with spit, you could hardly keep up. every kiss felt like it left you raw. ruined. but craving more.

his fingers toyed with the clasp of your bra, then popped it open easily. he dragged the straps down your arms, slow and teasing, “you’ve been neglected long enough, haven’t you, pretty girl?” he said against your lips.

he trailed his mouth down your neck, sucking at the pulse point until you whined, then he licked lower, over your collarbones, between your breasts, circling your nipples with maddening slowness. his hands stayed firm on your thighs, squeezing, keeping you spread and trembling.

“i want you to stop waiting for an orgasm,” he murmured as he kissed lower, lips just above your waistband, “feel everything. the pressure. the tease. the ache.”

your hands fisted in his hair, pulling him closer, grinding his face on your nipple, “please—mark, i need—”

“i know what you need.” his voice was low, but firm. his mouth still latched one of your nipples, sucking harshly.

“you think you’re the first person to sit here and say they don’t know how to come?,” he laughed softly, switching to the other peak.

“you’re not broken, baby. you’re untouched. and i’m about to change that.”

he hooked his fingers under the waistband of your pants and underwear at once, and then he stopped, eyes locked on yours.

“you trust me to take care of you?”

“yes,” you whispered, breath hitching.

“say it louder.”

“yes—yes, i trust you.”

“good girl.”

he smirked, dragging everything down in one slow, smooth pull, baring you to the cool air. to his heated stare. his eyes darkened as he took you in, and he let out a soft groan, hand gripping your knees to push them open wider.

mark leaned back just though to take in the sight of you — completely undressed, legs parted, breath shaky, lips kiss-swollen, flushed and desperate, beneath the soft golden lighting of suite 8, vulnerable and exposed.

“fuck,” he breathed out, jaw tense, “you’re so pretty like this. spread out for me. waiting.”

you whimpered as his hands slid up your inner thighs, thumbs brushing too close to where you ached, then retreating again. and again. and again. his touch was everywhere except where you needed him most. the ache between your legs pulsed — soaked and neglected, your body betraying how ready it was.

but still, your mind wouldn’t shut up. wouldn’t let you stay there in it. what if i can’t? what if i freeze up? what if he thinks there’s something wrong with me?

and mark knew. he could see. hear it in your gasps, feel it in your tension. that’s why he smirked like that, cruel and knowing. like he was enjoying watching you unravel in slow motion, one nerve at a time.

“tell me how this feels,” he murmured, leaning forward to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses across your collarbone again.

“let me hear you.”

“i—” you gasped, jerking as his teeth grazed a nipple, then soothed it with a slick, wet lick, “it’s—it’s not enough—mark, please—” he hummed against your skin, lips warm as he kissed back up to your throat.

“good. that’s exactly where i want you. i don’t want you comfortable yet. i want you needy. desperate. begging me to touch this pretty pussy.”

and you were starting to be. you could feel the slickness between your thighs, a heartbeat thrumming at your core. still, mark didn’t touch you there. his hands continued their teasing path, caressing your hips, your stomach, your thighs. never slipping between.

his tongue pushed into your mouth again, curling with yours, fucking it slow. one hand tangled in your hair to tilt your head back, deepening the kiss. his other hand slid down—finally, finally—settling just above your mound. the heel of his palm pressed just enough to tease the ache, and you whimpered, hips jerking upward like your body was pleading.

“already soaking, aren’t you?” he murmured against your lips, “and i haven’t even touched you properly.”

“please, please, i need—”

“no.” he cut in, voice sharp, dangerous. “i decide when you get that. you gave me your trust, baby. so let me show you what your body’s capable of when it’s not trying to hurry up and finish just to feel something.”

you whimpered quietly, looking at him with pleading eyes and only then did he let his fingers finally slip lower, gliding through the slick pooling between your legs. you gasped at the contact, but he didn’t go inside. just circled, rubbed, spread. over and over. maddening and slow.

“you’ve been chasing orgasms,” he muttered, placing a hot, wet kiss below your ear, “without knowing where they live.”

you moaned when he dragged his thumb over your clit, gentle at first, then firmer, enough to make you buck your hips. his mouth found yours again, kissing you harder now, every wet slide of his tongue mirrored the rhythm of his hand, slow, controlled, rubbing soft circles around your clit.

and you tried to stay in it, you really did. but before you could focus on the pleasure, your mind tensed again. breath caught. brain whirring. what if it’s not enough? what if i sound weird? what if i can’t let go?

your thighs started to close.

“no.” mark growled, his voice darker now. he shoved your legs apart again, pinning them open, “don’t hide. let me give you what you’ve never had.”

“i’m trying,” you choked, voice high and splintered, “but i-i dont know if i—what if i can’t–”

“it’s building up,” he grunted against your lips, “but you’re in your head. i can feel it”

and then, with no warning, he pushed one finger inside you. your back arched as your walls clamped around him, a quiet sigh slipping from your lips.

“fuck—so tight,” he hissed, pressing his forehead to your shoulder as he pushed deeper, curling slightly.

“you’ve been keeping this all to yourself, huh?” he pumped slow, shallow, his finger curling just enough to make your toes curl with it. then he added another. watching your face like a predator.

the moment your moan cracked through the air, high and broken, your eyes shot wide open, your hand clamping your own mouth, instinctive, terrified of the sound you made.

mark’s entire body tensed. he grabbed your wrist and yanked it down.

“don’t fucking do that.” his voice was rough. eyes wild. not with lust but with something more dangerous. hungry.

“up.” he ordered lowly, voice already thick with arousal. “on the couch. lay back.”

you blinked, dazed, “what—”

“now.”

the command in his tone made your stomach clench. you moved instinctively, letting him guide you, your bare back sticking slightly to the leather as you laid down. he helped spread your thighs wide over the edge. you were open now, fully exposed to him. he hovered above you.

then — he pulled his tie off in one swift motion. yanked it free from around his neck with a harsh flick. and before you could ask what he was doing he pinned your arms behind you and wrapped it tightly around your wrists, the silk biting softly into your skin.

he leaned over you, hot breath against your ear, “do you know what i do when pretty girls like you can’t let go?”

you shook your head, lips parted, eyes blown wide with lust.

“i don’t slow down,” he whispered, “i break them.”

then he looked down at you like a man starving. like a man about to feast.

“look at this,” he muttered, dragging two fingers through your folds again, lightly slapping your pussy, as he positioned himself between your cunt.

“so wet and ready,” he grunted against your aching core.

the first stroke of his tongue was slow. deliberate. — a warm, wet slide right up the length of your slit, ending with a soft suck to your clit that made your hips jump. you gasped, back arching.

mark groaned against you, “god, you taste unreal,” he growled, “i could stay here all night.”

and he meant it. he licked again, then again, tongue flattening against your core, teasing, tasting. his mouth was hot, his tongue devastating, alternating between slow strokes and precise flicks, sucking at your clit just enough to make your thighs tremble. his hands gripped your hips tight, holding you open as he buried his face deeper.

he was good. too good.

but still, that coil of pressure in your belly wasn’t catching. your breath hitched with every swirl of his tongue, but it didn’t crest. it didn’t tip. you kept chasing the edge but never quite reaching it. you couldn’t stop your mind from spiraling. what if this is it and i still don’t come? what if i’m the one person he gives up on? what if i disappoint him?

mark noticed it all. and he was tired of watching you get in your own way.

“i said i’d take my time with you.” he muttered, voice rough as knelt between your legs, towering over your exposed body, chest heaving slightly.

“but don’t mistake that for mercy.”

the kindness in his voice had cooled into something sharper, darker. still controlled. still careful. but this wasn’t the same soft-spoken man who asked if he could touch you. could kiss you. this was the version of him who knew exactly what you needed before you did. the one who didn’t need your trust. the one who commanded it.

you blinked up at him, dazed, lips parted as you struggled to catch your breath. mark was already working on his shirt, buttons flicked open with practiced, irritated speed. like you being like this —trembling and touched and still not broken open, had finally pushed him past whatever professional restraint he’d been clinging to.

“you want to feel something real?” he asked, low and dark as he tugged his shirt off and tossed it aside. his torso was lean, toned, strong, defined muscle under fair skin. veins prominent in his forearms, a shadow of control beneath the surface. you couldn’t stop staring, but he didn’t give you long.

“eyes on me.” he snapped. you flinched and obeyed instantly.

“good girl.” he muttered, already undoing his belt.

“you’re done overthinking tonight. you’re not here to analyze. you’re here to surrender.” he kicked his slacks off in one motion, dark briefs still clinging to his hips, already showing the outline of his cock pressing tight against the fabric. he moved between your legs again, now completely shirtless, he let you feel him. skin on skin. then, his hand came up to grip your jaw, not hard, just firm enough to make you feel it. to keep you grounded in his hold.

“i’m going to rewire that pretty little brain of yours,” he grunted.

“because clearly, your body’s ready but your head hasn’t shut the fuck up once since you got here.”

you whimpered, nodding under his grip.

“and when you come, it’s going to be because i made it happen.” he continued, dragging the pad of his thumb over your bottom lip, “you’re not going to perform. you’re not going to fake. you’re going to fucking lose it. because i’m going to take it from you.”

then he was sinking to his knees again, this time bringing your legs up to your chest, holding you open like a meal he was ready to devour. the position was cruel. your hands tied behind your back was starting to hurt. but he didn’t care.

“no more playing nice.” he muttered. “you’ve had enough of that.”

and then—he ate.

there was nothing soft about it this time. his mouth latched onto your pussy like it was the only thing that could save him. tongue flat and wide, licking deep and messy, then curling to flick at your clit with precision that made your hips jerk off the couch. you cried out but he only held you down harder.

“stay still.” he growled into your cunt, tongue never pausing, “i didn’t say you could run.”

you couldn’t push him away, the tie tight around your wrist. his grip on your thighs tightened. every stroke of his tongue was filthy, practiced, deliberate. he sucked your clit, then dragged his tongue lower, licking you open, tasting you with obscene, wet sounds that only made the pressure worse. hotter. deeper.

and still — you couldn’t let go. still, that voice in your head whispered too much. what if he’s doing all of this and i don’t come? i bet i look really weird right now. what if i’m really broken?

mark slammed his hand flat over your lower stomach, fingers splayed wide, his mouth unrelenting. and then he pulled back, just for a breath. just long enough to growl, “get out of your fucking head, baby. right now.”

his voice dropped.

“focus on what i’m doing to you.”

then he spit directly on your clit, letting it fall slowly, hot, messy, then immediately sucked you into his mouth like a punishment. it was so hot. a high pitched moan escaped your lips before you could even think about it. he hummed low like he knew it’d short-circuit your brain, the vibration sending shocks up your spine. his fingers slid back inside, fucking you now. harder, faster, rougher, thrusting with a rhythm of your unraveling.

“i don’t care how long it takes.” he snarled, breath hot against you.

“i’ll break you open and fuck the hesitation out of you.”

it was working. the fear was melting into heat. shame into friction. every thought replaced by the overwhelming sensation. you were teetering on the edge of something unfamiliar and terrifying. the pressure was unbearable, intense and unrelenting, like your body was being dragged past the edge whether it was ready or not.

mark didn’t stop. he pulled your clit between his lips again and again, flicking his tongue until you were gasping. curling his fingers over and over again.

“say it.” mark growled. “say you want to come.”

“i—fuck—i want to—mark—”

“louder.”

“i want to come! please—don’t stop—please—”

“come.” his voice demanded, vibrating against your skin. “let. me. have it.”

and then—you broke.

“oh my god—” the words tore out of you, breathless and wrecked, “f-fuck, don’t stop—don’t fucking stop—”

and he didn’t. your hips bucked against his mouth. the rest of the words dissolved into a sob from your throat so raw, so guttural, you hardly recognized the sound as your own. your back arched clean off the leather couch, hands gripping so tight hoping you could tether yourself to the moment as your body seized with sensation.

your orgasm didn’t rise like a tide — it detonated. it wrecked you open. no warning. just impact. a white-hot snap that split through you like a faultline finally giving way under years of pressure. it was too much. too big. too real. like something that had been lodged deep inside your chest your whole life had just ripped free — wild and screaming and glorious. years of silence and shame, of second-guessing and not-quite-getting-there, all flooding out at once.

your thighs clamped around his head, but mark didn’t flinch. he held you there, mouth relentless, fingers tight on your hip to anchor you through every tremor, every aftershock, as you writhed and whimpered and let the orgasm tear through your body. his tongue is merciless, unrelenting. mouth locked on you like he was dragging every last drop of that orgasm out of you until there was nothing left. until you were finally begging him to stop.

when he pulled back, his lips were slick. his face wrecked. his eyes triumphant.

mark licked his lips, “that,” he panted, “was one.”

you blinked at him, tears shining in your lashes, “i didn’t think i could…”

“you can,” he said firmly, brushing your hair back. “you did.”

then he untied your wrists slowly, carefully. but his voice stayed rough, “get on the bed.” he ordered.

“we’re not done.”

he gripped your thighs lifting you easily like you weighed nothing at all, your legs wrapping around his waist on instinct. a silent yelp slipped from your lips as he tossed you onto the bed with a bounce that knocked the breath from your lungs. the sheets were cool against your overheated skin, your body slack and spread open, chest rising and falling like you’d just survived something. or maybe like you were bracing for what was next.

mark’s lips found yours again, hot and claiming. his kiss wasn’t soft anymore — it was deep and consuming, all tongue and teeth and groaned hunger. he tasted like you. he traced a hand up your side, slow and steady, fingertips brushing every rib, every tremble. he was watching you like he didn’t want to miss a single twitch.

“you still with me?” he asked, voice rough around the edges now. lower. thicker. like he was barely holding himself back.

you nodded, dazed. “yeah. just…. holy shit.”

he smirked, “good holy shit or bad holy shit?”

you huffed a breathy laugh. “like… i didn’t even know i could come like that.”

mark’s thumb brushed the corner of your lips, dragging gently across your cheek. his eyes softened, but only for a second.

“that was just the beginning.”

then his expression darkened — not cruel, but hungry. that same deep hunger you’d caught glimpses of earlier, now unleashed. like something inside him had snapped loose the second you shattered and now he was free to do what he really wanted.

he sat back, eyes locked to yours and reached over to the nightstand. you watched as he tore open a foil packet with his teeth. condom. protection. professional. safe. but the way he rolled it on, slow, deliberate, cocky — made your mouth go dry.

your eyes dropped. you finally saw him. all of him. he was long. thick. the flushed tip already glistening with precum. your breath hitched.

“you’re still so wet,” he murmured, dragging his fingers between your folds again, making you jump, “you want more?”

your answer was instant, “yes. please.”

“you want to be fucked until you forget your own name?”

“yes, please—mark,” your hips bucked into his touch, already craving the stretch.

mark leaned down, mouth brushing your ear, his breath was hot.

“i’m going to fuck you now.”

the words made you clench. one hand guiding his cock to your entrance, the other gripped your hip with enough force to bruise.

“breathe,” he reminded, voice steady.

“and keep your legs open for me.”

you obeyed, trembling, aroused, needy. and then — he pushed in. just the tip at first. then inch by inch, he filled you. stretching you open, dragging slowly through your soaked heat, the pressure exquisite and unbearable. your eyes rolled back. your nails clawed into the sheets. when he bottomed out, his hips flush against yours, you couldn’t breathe.

“fuck,” you gasped, “oh my god—mark—” your hands came up to grip his hair.

you were so full. it felt like too much. he stilled there, letting you feel it, the stretch, the weight, the sheer intimacy of being filled by him.

“fuck, you’re tight,” he groaned, jaw clenched.

“you’re gonna hold on, baby? think you’re strong enough to fight me off again?”

and then he pulled out just enough to slam back in, you cried out. back arched. stars bursting behind your eyes.

he started thrusting — deep, sharp, claiming. again. again. setting a brutal rhythm, relentless and unforgiving, pounding into you with full, punishing strokes that rocked the entire bed. his grips on your hips was bruising. his pace was perfect, desperate, controlled, yielding. your moans were raw, punched out of you with every thrust. loud. real. unrestrained.

mark never looked away. watching every twitch of your body, every tremble, every cry of his name that tore from your lips like a prayer.

“you feel that?” he rasped. “your body is already giving in.”

you could barely speak. your second orgasm was building fast, sharp and electric, clawing up your spine as he adjusted his angle just enough to hit that spot, again and again, until you were falling apart beneath him.

“mark—fuck—i’m gonna—”

“come again.” he ordered, voice dark and breathless.

“come on my cock this time. prove to me you can do it.”

your mind shut off completely. no thoughts. no fear. just him. just the way his cock dragged inside you, hitting just right. his hand moved up your body, rough and reverent until his fingers brushed over your chest, teasing. and then his thumb rolled over your nipple. palm cupping your breast, kneading.

his other hand slipped under your back, lifting and forcing you to arch into him. he sucked one nipple into his mouth with a low groan that made your walls clamp around him hard.

you screamed. it was too good. his cock, his mouth, his hands — everywhere. his tongue bit your nipple and you sobbed, overwhelmed, drenched, utterly destroyed.

“you’re doing so good, you don’t have to think. i’ll do it for you.”

he dragged his teeth across your nipple again as his hips continued slamming into you, cock swelling inside you. then he brought his thumb in between your bodies, toying with your clit, rubbing harsh circles until your body couldn’t take it.

your second orgasm ripped through you. just eruption. you clutched his shoulders, mouth open, body convulsing against him as the climax burst out of you with a scream.

“good fucking girl,” he growled, hips not slowing.

“just like that. let it all go for me.”

you did. you had to. your thighs were trembling violently. your pussy clenched so tight around him you heard a curse tear from his throat. he didn’t stop. he rode it. let you sob and shake around him, fucking you through it.

his cock was pulsing and relentless, dragging wet and hot inside you as your cunt fluttered around him, overstimulated and soaked. you were beyond thought. your mind—completely gone. your body—his to command. he held your wrists down. you were a mess of tears and cries and raw nerve endings, and you loved it. you were addicted to the high. wanting every second to last longer.

“mark—please—don’t stop—”

“i’m not” he growled. “’i’m not stopping till your body forgets how to do anything but come.”

he pulled out for a quick second. hands gripping your waist hard before he suddenly flipped you onto your stomach. before you could even blink, he was dragging you up onto your knees, forcing your ass in the air, cheek pressed to the mattress.

“face down.” he growled, voice low, breathless, “ass up.”

you obeyed instantly, mind fogged and floating, body pliant and aching. you didn’t care anymore. you weren’t you anymore. you were his. bent to his will. so cock-drunk. your mind a blank page. he was rewriting your system with every thrust, every word, every sound he dragged out of you.

he shoved your knees apart with his thighs, rough hands spreading your cheeks, and then spat down, watching it drip between your folds. his cock nudged your entrance again, already slick from how soaked you were. you whimpered when he teased the head along your slit, grinding it against your oversensitive clit just to watch you shudder.

he leaned in close, voice a hot whisper against your ear, “gonna make up for all those years no one ever made you come,” he rasped, “every single time they fumbled and failed. this pussy’s never gonna remember that.”

and then—he slammed back into you. you screamed into the sheets. the new angle had him deeper, thicker somehow, hitting that spot so brutally your entire body jolted forward.

“mark—fuck—fuck—fuck!,” you moaned, biting down on the sheets, practically drooling.

he didn’t slow. didn’t pause. just gripped your hips and fucked you, hard and fast, his pelvis slapping against your ass with every thrust. the sound of skin on skin filled the room, wet, filthy, relentless.

“listen to that,” he rasped, voice wild now. “listen to what this pussy does for me.”

you couldn’t respond. couldn’t think. could only feel. the stretch felt sharper like this, more urgent. every stroke had you gasping, choking, keening into the mattress. and then—

slap!

you cried out when his palm landed hard on your ass. not cruel, just enough to make you jolt, to send that spike of heat ricocheting up your spine and straight down again, pulsing into your core.

“yeah,” mark breathed, voice cracked open with need, “you like that?”

you nodded, incoherent words slipping from your lips.

another slap! a little harder.

you sobbed, hips bucking back against him, desperate to meet every thrust.

“that’s it,” he growled, pounding into you harder now, the bed frame rocking under the force, “take it. take everything.”

and then his hand tangled in your hair, yanking your head back just enough to expose your throat, his hands wrapped around it. not tight enough to scare you. just tight enough to own you. your choked out moans filling the air. toes curling so hard you swore you’re about to get a cramp.

your third orgasm slammed into you out of nowhere. your body locked up and shattered around him, your cunt clenching so hard you saw white. he let you go as you screamed into the mattress, every nerve on fire, legs shaking violently as pleasure tore through you, raw and final and unrelenting.

— and still, he didn’t stop. mark held you steady as your body writhed, collapsing from the sheer force of your release, but he was relentless, “you don’t stop until i say you do.”

you whimpered something, his name, maybe, or just a breathless plea, but it didn’t matter. he fucked through your orgasm like a man possessed, chasing the aftershocks, turning them into something new. something sharper. overwhelming. your body trembled beneath him, hips twitching, slick dripping down your thighs, pooling on the sheets. your pussy clenched around him again and again, involuntary, helpless. every drag of his cock sent sparks skittering across your skin.

“you’re shaking.” he groaned, chest pressed to your back now, sweat-slick skin sticking to yours, “gonna make you fucking squirt, baby. i can feel it. you’re right there.”

“no—mark—too much, i can’t do that—,” you try to push him off. try to crawl away. but he was stronger. and he kept his cock pounding inside you.

“yes. you can.” his hand slid down, fingers seeking your clit, rubbing fast and brutal circles that had your legs kicking out, your voice catching in a strangled sob.

“i said face down. ass up.” he reminded you, voice dark and firm as he shoved your head back into the mattress, palm flat between your shoulder blades, keeping you there.

“be good. take it. this is what you came here for.”

the pressure was unbearable, his cock punishing inside you, fingers never letting up on your swollen clit. your mind blanked, eyes rolling back for the umpteenth time and then you reached a high you didn’t even think was humanly possible. something you only saw happen in porn.

a ragged, high-pitched cry tore out of you as your body convulsed, back arching violently before you collapsed into your fourth orgasm. the gush came, hot, wet, explosive. your cunt fluttered and sprayed around him, your thighs trembling uncontrollably as you squirted all over his cock, the sheets, the floor. you could barely process it. your brain had gone static. a glitching signal of pleasure.

“fucking amazing,” mark snarled, hips stuttering.

“that’s it. let it all go.” he pulled out just enough to watch you gush again before slamming back in. your whole body jerked like a live wire. you were sobbing now, overstimulated, wrecked, your hands had give up on clawing at the sheets for something to hold onto. there was nothing. nothing but him.

mark cursed, nearly losing his rhythm, “fucking hell—”

he didn’t stop. he kept pounding into your overstimulated cunt, watching your body convulse under him.

“gonna—fuck—i’m gonna come—” his pace stuttering for the first time, hips faltering mid-thrust. you could hear the unraveling in his breath, raw and uneven. his thrusts turned sloppy, deeper, harder. and then, with a strangled moan, he came. his hips slammed into you one last time, cock buried deep as he spilled into the condom with a guttural groan, body jerking with each pulse. he stayed there, breathing ragged, pressed tight against your back, his body shaking with the force of it.

for a long moment, the only sound in the room was the thunder of both your heartbeats. you were barely on your knees, cheek pressed to the sheets, body twitching faintly from aftershocks, cunt still fluttering around the softening length inside you.

mark let out a long breath, low, shaky. he leaned forward, his chest slick with sweat and your juices, smearing against the curve of your spine as he slowly eased down.

“you okay?” he murmured finally, voice hoarse, frayed around the edges.

you nodded, too blissed-out to form real words, “yeah. just… holy shit again.”

he chuckled weakly, wrapping his arms around your middle and gently easing you down onto the bed. his cock slipped out slowly, and you whimpered at the loss, already missing the fullness. a laugh slipped from your lips anyway, a disbelieving, breathy sound.

you couldn’t move. not in a bad way. more like your body had melted into the mattress, boneless and warm, every muscle humming with aftershocks. your mind was soft, quiet, the storm of thoughts you usually lived in was gone. for the first time in your life, there was peace, full-bodied, deep, radiating out from the very core of you. like something inside had finally clicked into place.

you’d come. you’d actually come. not faked it. not chased it just to please someone else. not brushed against it only to have it slip away. this time, it hit you full force. not once but four times.

the kind of orgasms that emptied you, pulled sobs from your throat and tears from your eyes and for once you hadn’t cared. you hadn’t flinched. you hadn’t shut down or shrunk into yourself, hadn’t tried to perform or hid or apologize. you’d felt it all.

and somewhere in the middle of all that, you’d actually squirted. your thighs had trembled, you’d felt yourself gush around him, soaking the sheets, your mind and body surrendering with no shame. no fear. no filter. you hadn’t know it could feel like that. like being cracked open and remade. like something holy. your cunt still fluttered with phantom pulses, like your body couldn’t quite believe it either. like it wasn’t ready to let go.

mark lay beside you, propped up on one elbow, his other hand already reaching for the warm towel he’d placed nearby. he flipped you over gently, his touch deliberate and slow. like he wasn’t in a rush to be anywhere but right here. he cleaned you up in silence. careful. focused. he dabbed between your legs with gentle, precise strokes, flinching every time you flinched. “sorry,” he muttered each time, almost apologetic.

“you sure you’re okay?” he asked softly.

you nodded, a small smile on your lips, “better than okay…i feel like i just got reborn.”

that earned a real laugh from him this time, “that’s a new one,” he said with a shake of his head.

you stretched, wincing slightly, sore in all the right ways. everything throbbed but in a way that made you feel alive. present. you turned your head to look at him.

“that was… insane,” you murmured, “i mean, you literally had to destroy me to get me out of my own head.”

mark smiled, brushing hair from your damp forehead, “it wasn’t destruction. it was release. you just needed to shut this little guy off ,” he says, lightly tapping your temple, “and stop being scared to let your body feel.”

your throat tightened, not from embarrassment, but from the truth of it. because that’s exactly what it was. you’d let go. fully. completely.

mark grabbed the water bottle from the nightstand, twisted the cap and held it to your lips like it was instinct. “drink. you lost a lot of liquids back there.”

you giggled, then took a few sips, letting him wipe the corners of your mouth with his thumb afterward. it should’ve been awkward. but it wasn’t. it was safe.

eventually, mark rose from the bed and helped you sit up slowly, handing you your clothes one piece at a time. you slowly got dressed. you were glowing, cheeks flushed, lips swollen, eyes bright. alive. awake. soft.

once you were both dressed, mark walked you back to the lounge of the clinic. the lighting had brightened slightly step by step—intentional, maybe, to ease clients back into the world gently.

“thanks,” you said as you walked side by side, your voice a little hoarse, but steady, “for the... comprehensive service.”

his mouth twitched, almost a smile, “neo orgasm clinic prides itself on thorough results.”

“oh, i noticed,” you deadpanned. “i think i saw god.”

mark let out a soft laugh, “i take it your file won’t need another ‘no prior orgasm’ flag.”

you rolled your eyes. “no, i think we can check that one off. multiple times, actually. all thanks to you.”

he cocked his head, the edge of a smirk playing on his lips, “you did the work.”

you snorted, “right. i was just lying there, crying and begging while you—never mind. forget it. you know what you did.”

“professionally, of course,” he said smoothly, “all part of the protocol.”

you looked him up and down, “if that was protocol, i’d hate to see what your personal life looks like.”

his smirk sharpened, almost imperceptibly, “you wouldn’t survive it.”

you raised a brow, “is that a challenge?”

his eyes glinted, “only if you book another appointment.”

you laughed then leaned in slightly, just enough for him to hear, “but seriously, you didn’t just make me orgasm. you made me feel like…like my body finally belongs to me.”

something flickered in his expression, not warmth, not empathy. just... acknowledgment. like a box being ticked. another line in the report. mark’s gaze held yours. there was no smugness, no pride. just warmth. steadiness — a donor who’d done exactly what he promised and only what you needed.

“thank you for trusting the process,” he said simply.

then, with a crooked grin, you added, “i should probably leave a tip. or at least a five-star review.”

he raised an eyebrow in amusement, “tips aren’t required. but reviews help with the rankings.”

“oh, i’ll be specific,” you said, walking toward the door leading to the lounge, “something like: ‘ruined me in under an hour. swore i saw heaven. would recommend.’”

mark tilted his head, quietly chuckling beside you. the door opened. you stepped inside and turned back toward him. “seriously though five star session.”

he nodded once, “glad we could meet your goals.”

you smirked, “gonna be hard to top this one.”

the corner of his mouth curled, sharp and knowing.

“book me again.” he said lowly, voice like velvet, “i’ll try.”

then, offering his hand once more, firm and polite, “it was a pleasure to be your donor, ms. y/n.”

you shook it, firm, “i’ll be your client any day.”

and with one last glance, one last smile, he turned back toward the double doors. and just like that it was over.

✚ END OF SESSION ✚

the door whispered shut behind him, soft and final. you stood in the lounge for a second longer than necessary, trying to get back into reality.

you were still warm. still sore. still…not quite in the world. your legs wobbled slightly, the plush carpet beneath your feet suddenly feeling too soft. too quiet. the silence here was different. this one was polished. the kind that came with good lighting and air purifiers and an undercurrent of expensive professionalism.

you approached the front desk slowly, finding taeyong already tapping away at his tablet, his perfect posture and gel-slicked hair still completely intact, like nothing behind those doors could ruffle him. he glanced up with the kind of smile that had been trained into perfection. not fake. just smooth. comforting. scripted.

“that’ll be charged to the card on file,” he said gently, voice soft enough not to jar you.

you nodded. your voice wasn’t ready yet.

“also, this is for you.” he reached beneath the desk and pulled out a matte black paper bag with subtle silver foil lettering that gleamed when it caught the light:

thank you for trusting neo orgasm clinic with your satisfaction.

you blinked. “what’s this?”

“a small thank-you from our donors,” he said, still smiling, still unbothered — as though this entire exchange was no more intimate than a routine dentist visit. like you weren’t just being fucked to your next life behind those doors.

you took the bag with both hands, still feeling like you were floating slightly outside yourself.

“have a good rest of your evening! we hope to see you again,” taeyong smiled from behind his computer.

you gave him a tired little smile, a soft wave and murmured a polite “thanks,” and turned toward the exit.

you made your way to your car, dropped into the driver’s seat, and opened the bag, curious to see what it holds — inside was a neatly folded hoodie, ultra-soft, white, with bold letters:

ORGASM DONOR

you stared. then snorted. a full bodied laugh punched out of your chest. it was dumb. it was ridiculous. it was perfect. tucked beside it, almost like an afterthought, was a juice box. your laugh came sharper this time.

you popped the straw in, took a long sip and leaned your head back against the seat. let the juice cool your tongue. let the moment wash over you and muttered to yourself, “best. fucking. clinic.”

you pulled your phone out. opened the clinic’s feedback portal. your fingers hovered for a second. then you typed:

released me from the shackles of my mind. came four times. even squirted. lost track of the tears. saw god. 10/10. highly recommend. would let mark destroy me again. professionally, of course.

somewhere behind those pristine white doors, donor mark was already reviewing his next file. another client. another list of goals. another carefully measured beginning.

✚ APPOINTMENT STATUS: COMPLETE ✚

—

18+ only | watch at your own risk | contains mature content

BONUS: #1. #2. #3. #4. #5.

—

an: and the first donor is done! i hope this lived up to the expectation. if you hate it please don’t tell me lmao. this whole entire concept is supposed to be silly! i hope you had fun reading it! please don’t take it too seriously :)

🩺 likes, reblogs and comments are not required but is very appreciated

client tags: @alwayswonbinning @haechyuckan @neotannies @jaeminiwrld @taeeflwrr @kittydollzz @amazinggraxia @markleewatermelon @snwydoie @lvlyynim @neosteric @s4turdaydr1p @booskies @bananinhazz @hyucksaint @feet4liferss @mangoescrazy @jaejaezprincess @mokalattee @combinatoright-blog @stormy1408 @neonaby @zhangyixingxing1 @ni-ki-starnetwork @markiesfatbooty @luvjoongz @bbykaixx @lubunnii @ryuvrsie @hyuckluvr-com @37point5rated @snoopyana @britishvamps @sssaturn @serhser @flowerrpwrr @rex-ie @yutasputa69 @serpeverde005 @imsaltnt @imnotrosiee @leleszn @shiningnono @ant-onie @kakutoz @kiwichenji @ihatefrvits @haechanahceah67 @huffnpufffckk @nctdreamchaser @markiepoo4eva @neocockthotology @poutybzby @mackleroni @grimlinshere @mey-archive @su11yoon @n9vacane @hoonhyeonhae @crooked-haven @liaviva

#withthedonors #mark lee x reader #mark lee smut #mark lee x you #mark lee x y/n #nct dream x reader #nct dream smut #nct 127 x reader #nct 127 smut #nct x reader #nct smut

877 notes · View notes

hencheri · 2 days ago

Text

— dead from the start

▸ 18+ mdni.

| pairing. friend!jisung x fem!reader

| warnings. murder, horror & gore, loser and loner!jisung, suggestive content, jisung is literally a psychopath, knife play, graphic depiction of blood & wounds, mention of depression, jisung is lowkey in love idk. this is quite heavy; please don't read if you're sensitive! you've been warned.

| wc. 3.1k

a.n.: happy 1 year to hencheri <3 this is purely fictional don't pmo ty!!

leaning over his car, jisung watches you walking up to him, a radiant smile on your face. he reciprocates, but his mouth doesn’t stretch as high, barely so. you’re wearing shorts and a sweatshirt with your college’s logo on it. he notices your nails are painted white, a different colour as they were yesterday. it’s pretty, he thinks—you’re pretty.

“hey,” you softly greet him once you’ve reached his car, holding your textbooks in your arms.

“hey,” jisung says back once he pushes himself off his car, eyeing you down, staring at your legs. they’re clean, totally flawless, no trace of any accidental scratch or bruise. a blank canvas. he looks back at your face a second after, a faint smirk drawing on his lips. “ready to go?” he asks while opening the passenger door for you.

you nod your head, slipping your backpack off your shoulders before climbing inside. you throw your stuff onto the backseats so you don’t have to put it at your feet and he takes the driver seat, shutting the door, making himself comfortable. he lowers both of your windows to allow the wind to enter the car.

“is our destination still a secret?” you giggle, looking at jisung as he turns on the engine and swiftly pulls out of the parking lot.

“still is.” he doesn’t glance your way as he answers, stopping at the stop sign before taking the right turn.

he told you yesterday that he wanted to show you a place—he wasn’t specific nor too vague, just giving enough details so you wouldn’t be suspicious. you agreed as expected. he said it was a surprise, insisting on the fact that you couldn’t tell your friends—or anyone—about it. not even mention that jisung was bringing you somewhere. you should’ve been worried then, realized that something was weird, but you’re so kind. too kind for your own good.

he can’t really blame you, though. you and jisung have been friends for a couple of months now and he’s been nothing but a good man (your own words). why wouldn’t you trust someone who’s proven to you countless times to be a reliable friend? why would you ever be suspicious of him?

it’s okay to be naive, jisung tells himself. your innocence is admirable to him, it’s precious. too bad it’s also deadly.

at the beginning of the year, jisung was assigned to be your tutor. you struggled in most of your classes and needed some help to get your grades up. you’re so friendly that only after a few meet-ups, you were already hanging out outside campus, introducing your friends to jisung and his to you, even though he doesn’t have as many.

he quickly realized that he was looking forward to your meetings. he was eager to see you, to hear your voice. he knew you felt the same, too. it wasn’t hard to tell; you wore more makeup the days he was tutoring you, bringing him cookies and pastries, even asking him what his favourite dessert was and cooking it for him. even flirting with him and acting shy about it.

he appreciates the attention, he won’t lie. it’s flattering to have a girl as sweet as you attracted to him.

“we make a cute pair,” you said once when you were sitting at a picnic table on campus, textbooks open in front of you. you were repeating what your friends told you and the smile on your face was adorable. he caught himself staring at you, and then he thought to himself that, indeed, you’d make a cute couple.

jisung is now driving onto the high road, tall pine trees surrounding you, streaks of the sunset flashing through the thick branches. the full moon can be seen above you, the sky clear and blue. it’s not an uncommon scenery for you, but you didn’t think jisung would bring you that far away from the city.

he glances your way and you’re looking out of the window, your eyes following the electric poles by the road. the sound of 80s rock music on the radio fills up the car, matching the current mood. it’s a tuesday evening so the road is practically empty, having only passed by two cars.

then, jisung sees far away the familiar dead tree trunk on the side of the road. he lightly pushes down on the brake pedal with his foot, slowing down and putting on the flashers. he drives off to the side and the car finally comes to a halt.

you’re confused for a moment, frowning at jisung. “where… are we- are we here?”

his blank expression doesn’t falter as he looks at you, pushing his hair away from his eyes. “there’s a path down to the lake,” he simply explains.

“oh,” you nod and your frown deepens, processing what jisung just told you.

he unbuckles his belt and as he sees you’re not doing the same, he encourages you. “come on, let’s go,” he smiles, hoping it convinces you, and it works.

you smile in return, laughing lightly. “okay.” you unbuckle your belt and hop out of the car.

jisung watches for a second, making sure you’re not looking at him, before leaning down and picking up the knife and the zip ties he put there this morning in the door’s compartment. he quickly stuffs the items in the front pocket of his jeans.

when he gets out, you turn around to him. “i hope there aren’t too many bugs,” you scowl, “i hate getting bitten.”

“we’re gonna be fine near the water. there’s a fresh breeze tonight,” he tells you, walking into the thick woods, hands in the pockets of his hoodie.

you follow him, stepping over leaves and branches, watching closely where you put your feet. jisung seems at ease here while you’re waving your hands around to get the bugs out of your face. you’re so distracted by them that you don’t see the rock right in front of you and you trip over it, falling over onto your knees and hands.

“shit, you’re okay?” jisung crouches down to you, taking a hold of your arms and helping you back up onto your feet.

“yeah,” you grumble, wincing. you have no visible injuries, just some dirt on your knees and clothes.

“we’re close, i promise,” he chuckles, the corners of his mouth tugging up into a fond smile. or that’s what he tries to do.

you walk behind him, avoiding bugs and trees, groaning when a fly doesn’t want to leave you alone. you wonder if you’re still far away when you finally see the lake from afar, stumbling onto a tiny beach. there are more rocks and dirt than sand, but there’s a beautiful opening to the water.

jisung stands there, looking in front of him, and you pass by him, wanting to get a closer look to the lake. the pine trees are reflecting onto it and the breeze creates movements on the water. it’s quiet, apart from the whistling of the wind, and it feels like you’re the only two people on earth.

“do you come here often?” you ask jisung, still looking ahead of you.

“no, i discovered it last week,” he answers.

you hear his shoes walking on the pebbles behind you. you attempt to turn around to face him, but you’re pushed to the ground before you can do anything. you scream, falling down hard, the small rocks sinking into the bare skin of your hands and legs. you don’t understand what’s happening, your eyes filling up in water at the pain. you try to pull yourself onto your knees, but you’re caged to the ground as jisung straddles your body.

he reaches into his pocket and takes out the zip ties, pinning your hands behind your back. you kick your legs and squirm underneath him, and he’d give it to you for putting up a fight, but jisung prepared himself for this. he knows he can’t fuck this up.

his hands shake as he wraps the plastic tie around your wrists, feeling his heart beating out of his chest, his breathing ragged and shallow. he manages to pull your wrists together and zip the tie, locking your arms behind your back. he ignores your pleas and cries, switching to your legs in an instant. he keeps your legs together with one arm, his fingers rapidly fiddling with the other zip tie and attaching your ankles with it despite his trembling hands. when it’s done, he turns your body around and your face of distress is truly a sight he waited so long to experience.

for the first time in a while, jisung feels himself getting hard. really hard. your mascara has dripped down your cheeks in two black streaks, you have snot falling down from your nostrils, your lips are swollen and covered spit and your face has dirt stains all over it. this is the real you, the you only him will ever get to see. that’s what he really considers as beauty; the true fear and desperation itched onto your face. pretty, that for sure you are.

“j-jisung, please,” you sob, “don’t do this, whatever it is-”

you cut yourself off, gasping in disbelief, as he retrieves the pocket knife he hid in his jeans. he’s totally expressionless, mouth set in a straight line, eyes observing you like you’re a project lab. and maybe that’s what you are.

“i’m sorry,” he says, but it’s obvious that he isn’t, his apology sounds more like a formality than a genuine sentiment. “it’s nothing against you, i swear,” he assures you, his voice low like a whisper, the deepness of it making you shudder. “you know i like you…”

“why, then?” you exclaim, desperate. “i don’t- i don’t understand…” you cry violently, your body shaking from the intensity of your tears. they flow from your eyes in a cascade, rolling down the side of your face.

jisung plays with the knife, waving it in front of your eyes, his own following the blade, looking at it like it’s a toy. “you could never understand someone like me, baby,” he mutters and you wouldn’t have been able to tell what he said if you weren’t so close. “but i’m grateful you want to, though.”

it’s the truth. jisung always knew he was different even as he was a child. he was being called a creep by the other kids, teachers thought he was depressed because he would never smile or talk with the others. he was just not interested in colouring books or playing soccer, he preferred collecting bugs, even the grossest ones, scavenging through the woods and kill stuff. watch it die.

he was an angsty teen, his parents would always justify. his love for gore and horror was just a phase, as well as his fascination for death. just a phase.

jisung thought that, too. until it continued and became an obsession.

“ji, you can’t do… this,” you try to dissuade him, to make him realize that he’s going too far—even if the start was already it. “please,” you cry louder, “don’t hurt me.”

he looks into your eyes, almost empathizing with you. “i have to.”

jisung stares at you for a little longer, your tummy heaving up and down at the pace of your sobs and irregular breathing, hair sticking to your forehead because of the sweat, the sunset casting a warm glow over your face. he feels how tight his pants are, his hard cock straining against them. he expected this to happen, but he didn’t plan on doing anything about it. it would be too big of a distraction.

“ji-jisung,” you call his name again, hiccuping, and his gaze falls onto your lips. they’re bleeding, probably because you’ve bitten into them too hard, breaking the skin with your teeth.

he sets the knife aside, away from your reach, and he puts his hands on either side of your head, hovering over you. “kiss me?” he gently asks, his breath tickling your face as he speaks. your lips are trembling. from this close, jisung can smell your perfume, the one you sprayed on surely thinking about him, wondering if he’d like it. and he does. smells sweet just like you.

you make a small noise, probably a whimper, before hesitantly attaching your lips to his. the kiss is shy, just a little peck, not allowing jisung to know what you taste like.

“cute,” he comments, grinning at you, amused by your shyness.

he dives in, actually kissing you, pushing his tongue inside your mouth. your moan is muffled, surprised by the lead jisung is taking. he grabs your face and uses his hold on it to move you around how he desires, tilting your head to deepen the kiss. it lasts for a long, sloppy minute until jisung decides to pull away.

he gulps down, remembering all the scenarios he made up in his mind about you. his knife under your throat, fucking you on the backseats of his car, threatening to slice it open if you move even slightly. luring you into an empty alleyway, using you against the brick wall of a bulding, panties pooling around your ankles, knees shaking.

now you’re underneath him, limbs tied together, knife waiting to sink into you.

remembering what he brought you here for, he picks the knife back up from the ground and presses the blade against your uncovered stomach, your sweatshirt having ridden up during your struggle. it draws blood and you cry out, wriggling in his hold. jisung is focused, watching with sick curiosity the red blood pooling out of the fresh cut.

just as he’s about to go in deeper, a cracking sound is heard from the woods. jisung stops and glances up, waiting for something to come out. understanding there might be a chance to escape him, you scream at the top of your lungs, thumping your feet against the ground.

jisung shoots you a hard glare and immediately wraps his free hand around your throat, tightening until your air flow is cut off. it shuts you up, visibly struggling to breathe. he silently watches you fight for air until suddenly something jumps out of the tall grass; a rabbit.

he loosens his grip from around your neck and you cough, your throat itching and your eyes stinging. jisung smirks, “we’re alone here. unless you expect a rabbit to come save you.”

the animal doesn’t stay long, quickly running back into the woods, startled by all the noises you both make.

“it can be quick, or it can be very long,” he says. “i’ll let you decide.”

your bottom lip juts out, trying so hard to not burst into tears again. your gaze flicks downward to where the tip of the blade is poking into your stomach, right under your bellybutton. a shiver travels through you and goosebumps appear on your skin, hair rising up. you squirm underneath him, wanting to free yourself from jisung’s grip, but you obviously can’t.

“why- why are you doing this to m-me…” your voice is shaky, unstable, on the verge of tears. even if you could understand him, understand his reasons, he doesn’t think it would change anything.

he sighs, bringing his knife to your cheek instead, his hand around your throat moving up to your jaw. “does it really matter now, baby?” jisung frowns. “i like you, i really do.” he can see the fear in your eyes, the utter distress… and the desperate need to stay alive. “... and even if i could explain it to you, find the right words to describe… my feelings, this will end the same way as i intended it.”

you let out a whimper, and just as he thinks it’s over, you manage to lift your knees up and kick him forward, making jisung lose his balance. you push him off of you with your feet and you succeed to escape from underneath him. you turn yourself around and with all your strength, you get onto your knees, but with your hands tied behind your back, you find yourself unable to get up on your feet.

there’s no way out of this.

jisung is faster than you and catches you in a second, fingers tightening around the handle of his pocket knife. he grabs the front of your throat and quickly pulls you back against him, stabbing you in the lower stomach. you gasp out, and to jisung’s surprise, you don’t scream, like the breath was taken out of you the moment his blade pierced through you. he looks over your shoulder down to your belly and drags the knife an inch to the side, opening you up. blood flows out, it’s thick and warm, and the metallic scent is stronger than he thought.

you fall forward and jisung follows, delicately laying you down on the ground under him. he retrieves his knife and that’s when he hears a sob tearing up from your throat, guts spilling out, completely covering his hand in your blood. he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear with a shaking hand, watching your face with so much adoration, so much love. he kisses the corner of your lips and another gasp leaves you, barely audible like a gentle whisper.

it takes around 5 minutes for jisung to bring you back to his car and hide your body in the trunk. you spilled a lot of blood on the way, but he doesn’t worry too much about it. he’ll come back tomorrow.

at school, your friends ask about you. did you actually ghost everyone and skip an entire day of classes? you’re not the kind to do that. jisung says he hasn’t seen you since your last tutoring session and it’s technically true. your meeting at the lake never happened.

you’re reported missing on the third day. your face is on the news, on the school’s billboard, even scotched onto random electric poles around the city. you’re said to be last seen wearing your college’s sweatshirt, jean shorts and blue nail polish. your nails weren’t blue, they were white. even jisung, who rarely cares about that stuff, noticed it.

after the first week, people are hopeful, and they still are even after a month. they can find you, the police says. come back to us, your parents beg. your friends post about you on their social media accounts, asking everyone to call them if they see you.

then a year passes and still nothing. other ads and pictures of missing pets are scattered over your missing reports, the corners ripped and ink wiped off by the rain. you’re merely a tragic memory now.

—-

a.n.: idk what i just wrote lol sorry. or not? 🤭 i'm really... scared, but at the same time i find this so tame, wtv. my goal with this is to have your stomach twisting!!! like, will he do it or not!? btw i was so close to add noncon and make reader stay alive but it really just didn't fit... so hopefully it's good as it is. anyway i think i'm really satisfied with the result, im not sure sjsjsj

but please i am begging on my knees pls send feedback on this!! i would appreciate it a ton and i feel like this is kinda special... pls consider reblogging if you liked it, this helps me a lot and also helps more people to see my post c: thank you <3 don't let me down!!

#[ ★ ] dark content #— ☆ starring dream #w/ jisung !#nct smut #nct x reader #nct hard hours #nct dream smut #nct dream x reader #jisung x reader #park jisung x reader #park jisung smut

162 notes · View notes

markkiatocafe · 3 days ago

Text

serenade

( ͡•. •. ͡ ) . . . synop: apparently, all you needed was a little heart break to finally push you both to admit your feelings.

𖠚 warnings: mild swearing (“ass”), reader is honestly a lil toxic 🤔, mentions of eating (a sandwich and a slushy)!!!!!!!, they kiss at the end but it’s nothing rlly graphic at all, cliche ending (yeah yeah ik)

𖠚 pairing: fem!reader x childhoodbestfriend!mark ft. jaemin of nct dream (mutual friend of reader & mark), minnie of i-dle (mark’s ex girlfriend)

𖠚 w.c: 2,527

𖠚 a/n: happy mark day :3

you and mark had been friends since the start. bruised up knees, muddy shoes, melting popsicles and shared soda cans that were long forgotten on the window sill. you could recall the days you spent with him better than you could any other part of your childhood, honestly, and that wasn’t really a bad thing, in your view.

blissful days in the summer sun and cozy nights cuddled up under blankets, your fun together didn’t fade away when you reached your teens. you couldn’t be more grateful to have a friend like him, a friend that would stick around through the worst of the worst and the best of the best. even when waves crashed together, mark was the kind of friend that would always surf along.

your best friend was a writer, a very gifted one, too. he had a way with words, even though when he did get a good line, it was usually unintentional. in your mind, he was destined to be a poet, or at least an author or writer of some kind.

you didn’t only dote on him, though.

mark had his flaws, of course, as anyone did. as his best friend, you felt you had some authority to say you knew them pretty well. first, he was a bit of a perfectionist. rather, a bit was an understatement. even now, in college, he would stay up far into the mornings to write things. you always offered to help, but he was also stubborn. he would always protest, so much to the point where you didn’t even try some days.

still, you helped as much as you could. of course you did, that’s what best friends do, right?

there was something, someone, i should say, that changed your view on your relationship with mark, kinda recently, too.

you didn’t want to admit it, but mark’s new girlfriend had your stomach churning in a way you wouldn’t exactly describe positively.

her name was minnie, and she was… something. if you were being honest, you hadn’t even actually met her yet, you didn’t really want to, but she already gave you a bad vibe.

first, she was always finding ways to avoid her and mark’s dates. not that this was any of your business, but, you were his best friend to be fair, you picked up on small things. quite often now, he would show up at your door with a half-smile that was obviously quite forced, asking if he could hang out since minnie was “busy.”

it just seemed fishy. was a girl really that busy? so busy that she missed her dates with her boyfriend 3 times in one week?

second, whenever he’d post about her on insta or such, she would never comment. was that a little far fetched of you? it might’ve been, but that didn’t make it any less weird.

still, as long as mark was happy, you should’ve been happy, right? right???

it was just… hard. it was selfish, you knew that, and that’s why you tried not to think about it too hard, but on the occasion that she did come to the dates, you couldn’t help but feel… replaced, of some sorts.

it felt like you were the sun of his world for so long, but suddenly, for some reason, he had become a lot more interested in the moon lately.

you might’ve been a little dramatic, well, maybe a lot dramatic. you just couldn’t help it! were you supposed to act normal about your best friend that you may or may not have been kind of in love with for 10 years getting into relationship?

“you know, you being into mark isn’t that surprising,” jaemin said thoughtfully as he patted the face mask you gave him onto his face. you furrowed your eyebrows, and, you would never admit it, but you felt a little bit of warmth tickling your cheeks. “don’t act like you knew,” you scoffed, rubbing your spf into your skin.

jaemin shook his head. “i’m not saying i knew, but i had a suspicion,” he pointed out casually, as if he wasn’t daring you to put your heart on your shoulder right now, “you’re never as subtle about your feelings as you think you are, yn.”

you rolled your eyes, shifting on your bed to face him like that would make your point more clear. “you’re only saying that with hindsight, stop it, nana.”

jaemin let out a quiet laugh, pushing your hair behind your ear. “whatever you wanna believe,” he shrugged, “have you said anything to mark about it?”

you quickly shook your head, the pure idea of telling him making your stomach hurt more than it does when you see him with her. “no, and i don’t plan on it.”

jaemin nodded, eyes slightly wide, he definitely got the point.

one thing you would admit is that your mind was focused on mark’s relationship too much. why was it any of your business? you had your own life, your own job, your own love life (although it was pretty empty), he wasn’t your everything. at least, he shouldn’t have been. you were both adults now. yeah, you were still best friends, but friendships weren’t the same as you grew older.

friendships fizzled out, and if they didn’t fizzle out, life often got in the way of a lot of chances to hang out or spend time together, anyways.

so, you decided to push it aside. bottle up the feeling and try to forget about it. was that healthy? no, definitely not, but you had a movie night planned with mark today and you weren’t about to let the fact that he had a girlfriend get in the way of you enjoying your time.

you were humming softly to yourself as the popcorn popped in the microwave in front of you. mark had just walked in, kicking off his shoes by the door and hanging up his jacket like he owned the place. he might’ve not owned the place, but, oh, boy did he live in your mind rent free right now.

“yo! the popcorn already smells good,” he commented, his voice bringing a warmth that settled into your chest and then curled around it so tight it turned almost suffocating. a silent, unintentional reminder that those warm moments you spent together when you were kids were now going to be spent with another girl for the long foreseen future.

still, you put on a smile, nodding and leaning back against your kitchen island, arms crossed, looking at him over your shoulder. “it’s almost done.” you replied. mark let out a sigh, walking beside you and leaning back against the kitchen island with you.

you looked him up and down, that little bit of jealousy already felt about 100x more amplified with him actually right next to you, the reality of the situation settling in. you looked back over to the microwave, trying to make sure you don’t crack. “how’ve you been?” you asked, your eyes trained on the spinning popcorn

“i’ve been better, life’s been kicking me in the ass lately, i can’t find a job anywhere,” he replied. only now you noticed the tiredness in his tone behind the warmth. “no ones really… checked in on me lately, thanks, yn.”

you didn’t wanna be mean, obviously not, he was being so kind and was obviously not doing well, but bottling up your feelings proved to make things slip through sometimes without context. “shouldn’t minnie be your shoulder to cry on or something?” you asked, your voice sarcastic. the immediate regret kicked in, your face scrunching in disgust at your own words. eugh. that was dirty.

he glanced between you and the microwave before his eyes finally landed on you, obviously confused. “what?”

you really didn’t want to reinforce the nasty intention behind your comment, but you were too deep in your hole, now. “like, your girlfriend? shouldn’t she be the one all over you right now? comforting you?”

mark shrugged, eyes flickering to the floor in maybe… embarrassment? it was hard to read his expression. “i guess so, we’re not in the best place.”

now, that filled you with a mix of sympathy and slight happiness you knew you shouldn’t have felt. oh..? you turned to face him, tilting your head, your curiosity getting the best of you. “really? do you wanna… like, vent about it? i’m here for you. always, really,” you offered, your voice gentle and sweet, even though you knew you weren’t feeling as sweet on the inside right now.

mark’s eyes met yours, a vulnerability behind them you knew you didn’t have the right to be trusted with right now. he shook his head half heartedly, looking back forward. “i mean… she’s just been super distant. like, oddly distant. to the point where it makes you wonder, if you get what i mean.”

you nodded along as he spoke, trying to be as understanding as possible, even with the feeling that was bubbling up in your throat. “i know what you mean. has she… been with anyone else in specific a lot?” you questioned, not accusingly, at least, you tried not to sound accusing.

he shrugged, eyes darting around the room like he had something of his own that he didn’t want to admit. he shifted his weight on his feet, tongue wetting his bottom lip. “one person,” he started, a slight crack in his voice. “one of her best friends. i don’t wanna be, like, a ‘possessive jealous boyfriend,’ or anything, but it’s just hard notto, man.” he paused to take a breath, recollecting himself.

he’s really passionate about this, you observed. almost like he’s been holding it in, like me.

“then we had this huge fight about it, and now… she doesn’t want to talk to me. the last she said was that we need a break from each other.” his eyes finally met yours. “do you want me to be honest, mark?” you asked, to which he nodded.

“i think… maybe you’re not meant for each other,” you said, holding back a lot of words right now. you didn’t want to be seen as doing this because of the whole being-in-love-with-him thing, but because you cared about him. you cared about him being in a healthy relationship. “not that there’s anything wrong with either of you, but relationships are kinda like puzzles. if your pieces don’t fit, you can’t really do anything about it.”

“yeah, you’re probably right…,” he sighed, sitting up and walking to your living room, sitting down on the couch.

that was pretty much where the conversation on that ended. you really didn’t want to stiffen up the vibe anymore than you already had, so you were happy to let it go.

thankfully, it wasn’t long until you saw him again. you were sitting out on a picnic blanket, the sun warming your skin as you bit into a sandwich you made for yourself prior to even planning on coming here.

was it a little pathetic to have a solo picnic date? probably. but it would be extremely hard to invite one of your guy friends here without the fear of them making it romantic in some kind of way, and all your girl friends were busy. so, here you sat, zoning out as you stared at the little river that traced around your local park.

it was peaceful. not a lot of people, fairly secluded, and shined on by the summery sunshine. though, your peace was interrupted (to be fair, you weren’t complaining) by the sound of an all-too-familiar voice.

“yn,” he spoke, hesitant, “i got your favorite.” when you turned to face him, your eyes met with his dreamy brown ones that you could get lost in any day.

you glanced down at his hand as he reached it towards you, offering… a slushy. neon blue, definitely filled with food coloring and a lot of sugar, but he wasn’t lying. that had been your favorite slushy since you were little, the blue raspberry flavor that made your heart feel like it was full and your body feel a little less burnt in the summertime. you smiled, a grateful glint in your eyes and a noticeable pink on your cheeks as you reached up, not taking the slushy from his hand, but pulling him down with you.

“thank you,” you said gratefully as mark plopped down, finally taking the slushy from him. you took a sip of it, swallowing and raising an eyebrow suspiciously. “how’d you even know where i was??”

he shrugged, running his fingers through his hair. “you left your location on,” he explained simply, receiving a small “oh” from you. “i actually wanted to come and talk to you about something. about… us.”

and that’s when your heart dropped to your butt. “us”??? there was so many possibilities that could mean. potential friendship breakup, maybe even friends to lovers? you had no idea, but you nodded, slowly. “o…kay...,” you agree.

he smiled slightly at that, your confusion. his smile was a little saddened, the heartbreak in his eyes was all too obvious, it was like it was covered in only a transparent mist of amusement. “it’s nothing bad, i promise,” he said as if he could read your mind, offering his pinky. you took it.

“so.. what about us?” you asked, letting go of his pinky, slushy still in your other hand.

“well, first of all, me and minnie broke up.”

“oh… i’m so sorry about that.”

he shook his head. “you have nothing to be sorry for. it was inevitable. i mean, catching her making out with her best friend was definitely a dealbreaker…”

your eyes widened, leaning back a little. “what??” yeah, you got kind of a bad vibe from her, but you weren’t expecting that.

“yeah, but that’s not really what i’m here to tell you.”

you raised an eyebrow, mouthing, “go on.” he turned to face you, fully, taking the slushy out of your hand and leaning it against your picnic basket, holding both of your hands in his. “you see, with my whole thing with minnie ending, i think i finally… i figured out how i feel about you. and it’s definitely more than something friendly.”

you didn’t know how to react. was this really happening? were you dreaming right now?? were you going crazy??? you felt like you were. but, no, his hands holding yours was too grounding to be fake. his voice was too genuine, too tender to be a facade. this was actually happening.

“we don’t have to start anything too serious. and, i totally understand if you don’t feel the same way. i just… this whole thing with minnie, it feels like it’s given me some kind of clarity, i gue-“

your hands cupped his cheeks, lips crashing into his before he could finish his sentence. you were never the particularly patient one. when you pulled back, you were met with the face of an absolutely flabbergasted mark.

“you know, you’re really cute when you ramble.” you said, laughing warmly.

and the rest was history.

78 notes · View notes

rina786549 · 2 days ago

Text

★ NCT DREAM REACTION: You hold onto their hand for the first time

★ PAIRINGS: nct dream x fem!reader | ★ GENRE: Fluff,Romance,Slice of Life,Slow Burn | ★ WORDS COUNT: 1,250 words

★ NOTE: This is a fan-made, non-profit work created out of appreciation for the original content. All rights remain with the rightful owners. I'm just sharing my version for fun—hope you enjoy!

★ MARK / 마크

You were both walking along the quiet riverwalk at night, the city lights painting the water in streaks of gold. Mark was talking about his trainee days, hands tucked in his pockets, eyes squinting as he smiled at his own stories.

You laughed softly, your fingers brushing his by accident as you shifted beside him. The air felt electric.

He didn’t notice at first, or maybe he was pretending not to — so you took a breath, gathered your courage, and gently laced your fingers with his.

Mark froze.

Then he looked down at your hands, then up at you with a small, startled smile, cheeks glowing pink beneath the streetlight. “Oh,” he breathed, as if the moment had punched the air from his lungs.

“Is… this okay?” you asked shyly.

He didn’t answer right away — just gripped your hand tighter, brought it to his lips, and whispered, “Yeah. More than okay.”

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

★ RENJUN / 런쥔

The two of you were exploring a small art gallery tucked away on a quiet street — Renjun’s idea, of course. You weren’t even officially dating yet, but the tension between you had been growing with every lingering glance, every inside joke.

As he pointed out his favorite watercolor piece, you noticed how expressive his hands were when he talked. You smiled to yourself, then reached out and took one of them in yours.

Renjun blinked. You could practically hear the gears turning in his brain as his eyes flicked down to your entwined fingers.

“This is new,” he murmured, cocking his head.

You started to pull away, but he held on tighter. “No, I like it,” he added quickly. “It’s just... surprising. You always make the first move, huh?”

You rolled your eyes, but your heart raced. “Someone has to.”

He smirked. “Good. I’d rather it be you. I’d be overthinking it for hours.”

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

★ JENO / 제노

It happened while you were walking his dog in the park. The golden retriever was running ahead, dragging Jeno by the leash slightly, making you giggle.

He looked over and grinned, cheeks slightly flushed from the cool breeze. “You cold?” he asked, eyeing your fingers as you rubbed them together.

“Maybe a little,” you replied.

And before he could offer his jacket or some awkward fix, you slipped your hand into his — warm, sturdy, careful.

Jeno stopped walking for a split second, then smiled so wide it reached his eyes.

He gave your hand a gentle squeeze, looked down at the ground like he was trying to hide how happy he was.

“Finally,” he murmured.

“What?”

He cleared his throat. “Nothing. Just… I’ve been wanting to do this for a while.”

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

★ HAECHAN / 해찬

You were both sitting in the back row of the movie theater, sharing popcorn and whispering sarcastic commentary back and forth, stifling your laughter. The movie wasn’t even halfway over when your pinky brushed against his.

He stilled.

You peeked over at him through the dim lighting, watching his lips twitch with a suppressed smile.

You leaned over, whispered, “Why are you so quiet all of a sudden?”

“I’m concentrating,” he muttered dramatically, and you almost laughed — but then you boldly slid your hand over his.

He turned his head toward you slowly, his playful expression melting into something softer, more genuine.

“Wow,” he whispered. “Who knew Miss Tease would make the first real move?”

“Shut up,” you grinned, but your fingers stayed curled around his.

“Nah,” he smirked, intertwining your fingers properly. “I love this version of you.”

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

★ JAEMIN / 재민

The day had been perfect — a sunny cafe visit, a walk through flower fields, light teasing and shared music through one set of earbuds.

You were walking side by side now, your hands brushing occasionally. Every time it happened, your heart thudded harder.

Finally, you gathered every ounce of courage and slipped your hand into his.

Jaemin didn’t react immediately — he just kept walking, like nothing had changed.

But then he looked over, smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Took you long enough,” he said.

You blinked. “You were waiting for me to do it?”

He chuckled, brushing his thumb over your knuckles. “Of course. I wanted to see if you'd be brave enough.”

“And what if I wasn’t?”

He leaned closer. “Then I would've waited forever.”

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

★ CHENLE / 천러

Chenle was cracking jokes again, telling a wild story about something that happened during a Dream show. You were laughing so hard your stomach hurt, wiping tears from your eyes.

Then he turned to you, still chuckling, and casually offered his hand. “C’mon,” he said. “We should keep walking.”

You hesitated for a second before you took it — and when you did, his whole demeanor softened.

The laugh lines around his eyes remained, but there was something tender in the way he looked at you.

“See?” he said, voice quieter now. “We’re good at this.”

“At what?”

“This... being close. Feels natural.”

And it did. It really, really did.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

★ JISUNG / 지성

It was late. You were both sitting on the swings at a quiet playground, legs dangling, barely moving. The stars were out, and the silence between you felt full — not awkward, but waiting.

You could feel Jisung glancing at you from time to time, but every time you looked back, he looked away.

So you reached over, shy but sure, and rested your hand on his.

He stiffened.

You were about to apologize when you felt his fingers turn, slow and careful, curling around yours like something fragile.

He didn’t say anything — just smiled softly at the ground, ears turning red.

“I thought I’d have to wait forever,” he finally mumbled.

You smiled too. “Good thing I got impatient.”

152 notes · View notes

90slovejeno · 2 days ago

Text

the cutest pair: 11

PAIRING: down bad!jeno x clueless!reader

SYNOPSIS: just a little smau about jeno having a huge crush on y/n. based on the concept of having a 'campus crush'—someone you often see around campus and develop a crush on, even though you don't actually know them.

GENRE: non-idol au, social media au, college au, humor

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

previous masterlist next

NOTE: im sorry for disappearing again, i got sick and demotivated also have to start studying again for my FAILED exams and its taking a toll on my mental health </3

TAGLIST: @222low @slayhaechan @valentinetown @snoopyjimin @lanaaameowyy @t-102 @alethea-moon @apuppygirlfriend @myfavoritedelusion @wonpoem @nctrawberries @sunghoonsgfreal @rensaries @toroufriteh @urlocalbeaner5 @ddolleri @ravi-4u @maarslvr @kookssecret @saranghoeforanton @seulpinkk @nosungluv @7dreambaby @luvandletter @kaosuni @haechanmybaechan @skeetyeetyote @keeryverse @kpophosblog @angelicdior444 @artstaeh @multifandomania @shadysnoopyy @gomdoleemyson @byeonwooseokabs @ant-onie @kpopwh0r3 @n0hyuck @bbykaixx @ne0sgotmyback @kaosuni @purezitas @keeryverse @eggingham @morkiee @hyuckxtagram @skibidihan @qiankunslove @bbyinni @nqyzhuo @user7520 @markleesleftpinky @sunflowerhae @hsified @mbella607 @dearmynayeon

146 notes · View notes

hyuckiestarz · 2 months ago

Text

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

1K notes · View notes

ccyomie · 1 day ago

Text

what i think an argument with mark would look like.

mark doesn’t wanna argue, but he lets you talk. not interrupting listening to you, gently rubbing your thigh because it brings him comfort even when you’re upset. yeah it may be selfish in the moment but you like it too, his touch grounds you, like a soft reassurance saying “i’m here, even when you’re mad, even when you’re upset. i’m here.” which was comforting, you two rarely argued or more so disagreed but when you did you both would give each other the silent treatment, going to different parts of the house, he’d lock himself in his studio and you’d lay on the rug in the living on the floor near the window. you’d usually be the first one to break say “dinners ready” or “you need anything from the store” but mostly you’d break the silent treatment to get him to come eat, he’d always apologize first even if he knew you were in the wrong, hell you knew you were in the wrong. but you don’t interrupt him, listening to him like he listens to you. if he says he needs reassurance, done. if he says he needs you to be more present, done. if he says he wants you two to get better at communicating so that you both won’t keep just walking away from each other, done. whatever he asks you to do, you do not even because he’s a man but because he’s your man and you know he would—does the same for you so doing something in return for him is nothing. they may seem like small things to you but these are things he’s been thinking about and the fact he was willing to communicate that with you means you both are moving in the right direction. now if he could get you to open up more about what you need from him, you’re the type to just fix things in your own way. like if he forgets to take out the trash you’d just do it instead of confronting him because you hated confrontation and didn’t wanna make it a big deal but your actions would show otherwise, how you’d mope around the house or sit at the other end of the couch when you’d usually snuggle besides him. he noticed these things even when you thought he didn’t. and god is he super patient with you.

coco’s notes .. i dunno if this is technically a argument? i’m not sure what you’d call it but this is a random thought i had and wrote it down while it was on my mind. also it’s like 3am… and i’m having BAD mark brainrot. not proofread.

#coco’s feed #nct #nct 127 #nct dream #mark lee #mark lee x reader #mark lee fluff #mark lee imagines #nct thoughts #nct dream x reader #nct 127 x reader #lee minhyung #mark x reader #nct mark #mark nct #mark soft hours #nct drabbles #nct imagines #nct fluff

148 notes · View notes

jirsungs · 3 days ago

Text

the longest goodbye ☆ n.jm

pairing: idol!jaemin x fem!reader

the longest goodbye synopsis: after four beautiful years of jaemin's relationship with you, you found yourself feeling trapped by the end, resulting in you calling it quits. and now, one year later, for the first time ever since your breakup, you're in front of him again at an idol awards after-party, except with a new man on your arm. a spot that once belonged to him.

word count: 3.6k words

genre/warnings: ex-lovers, idol!NCT Dream, reader's moved on while jaemin's a yearner, reader's new bf is NOT an idol btw!!, angst, there's an argument in the beginning, miscommunication from both jaemin and reader, BUT there's closure at the end! yippee!, explicit language, alcohol consumption, partying, crack (unfortunately, the dreamies make this lighthearted), fluff because i forgot this was supposed to stay sad and angsty but didn't have the heart to remove the cute 7dream scenes, 7dream being 7dream, unrealistic interactions with kpop idols (mentally they have fun like this)

a/n: can you tell i had fun with this 😭😭? pls ignore that i left 7dream with their bttf hair colors in the one year later, i was lazy 💔 this small playlist is completely optional to listen to when reading this, but they helped me a lot when writing! 1) role model & laufey's the longest goodbye, the title, and the whole reason why this idea sprouted in the first place! 2) usher's yeah! 3) mike posner & big sean's cooler than me 4) r5's pass me by 5) r5's let's not be alone tonight (ONLY for the fun parts) as always, i appreciate all love and feedback! happy reading!

“What, so that’s it? You’re not even going to try?” Jaemin hears you scoff; he sees tears begin to form in your narrowed eyes, but he knows you won't find a good enough reason to care.

Jaemin's jaw tightens, and his arms stretch straight out as he carries his weight on the marble kitchen counter. The silence and tapping of his pointy finger are the only sounds heard throughout his apartment, and they’re only adding to your growing anger. He can sense it.

“Y/N, you’re the one who feels trapped in this relationship. I’m not going to hold you back if this doesn’t make you happy anymore.” Jaemin tries to remain calm and collected, but he can feel himself slowly losing composure. “Maybe us breaking up right now is a good thing. I mean, for Christ’s sake, I’m about to go on tour. I’m doing what’s best for you, for us—”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” You ask in disbelief. Your blood’s boiling by the minute, and the fact that he continues to open his mouth doesn’t help your case at all.

Jaemin removes his arms from the counter to cross them instead, one of his defense mechanisms. He watches your eyes glance down at his biceps—just for a split second—and despite your heated conversation, it ignites a light in him that you’re still trying to slip in a moment to ogle him during a time like this.

However, he is genuinely confused about why you are upset, especially since he believes that his actions are justified. You wanted this; you’re the one who suggested breaking up, and when he agrees, you’re now taking it back?

Jaemin lets out a loud, exasperated sigh, a clear indication that he’s grown tired of this. You’ve always hated hearing that sigh. “Y/N, what do you want me to do? Fight for you? This relationship? How can I fight for it when I know you’re right?”

The next thing he hears is you mumble, “God, you don’t get it at all,” before you move away from your place in the living room to meet him in the kitchen, where he’s standing. Jaemin notices how you look up at him with shared irritation and exhaustion; the only difference is that you’re teary-eyed. You’re still trying to look tough in front of him, even though he knows you want to break down at this very moment.

You feel like a ticking time bomb, waiting to explode at any moment. You mentally count down in your head.

Three.

Two.

“What don’t I get? You just opened up that you feel trapped dating me. If I continue to fight for this relationship, it will only cause you more pain. I care about you, Y/N.” For the first time during this argument, he feels tears building up, but he chokes them back down. “Fuck, and because I care about you, I think I should let you go. Isn’t that what you want?”

One.

“No! That’s not what I fucking want! I thought if I opened up to you about this, then maybe we could work it out. We’ve been together for four years, Jaemin; do you know how shocking and heartbreaking it is to hear the only person you’ve ever loved give up on you that easily?” You ramble on, one of your many habits. Jaemin's memorized them all.

Taken aback by your (very reasonable) lash out, Jaemin chooses to stay quiet. He can’t help but scan your features; you were seriously the prettiest girl he’s ever seen. But before he knows it, you’re already slipping out of his hands. You stand at the door with your hand on the handle, your other arm occupied with your jacket hanging from it.

“I had hope for us, Jaem. I really—” You sniffle as you try to wipe your tears away with your hand. “I really did. But clearly, you don’t, and that says enough for me.”

“Y/N, wait—”

And instead of being met with your figure still there, he’s met with a slam of his front door.

With you gone, Jaemin returns to leaning against the kitchen counter, except with his head in his hands. “Shit…”

“So, let me get this straight. She tells you that she feels trapped in your relationship, she suggests breaking up, and when your dumbass chooses not to run after her, she leaves. Did I get it right?”

“Yes, Haechan, thank you for making me relive the whole night again.” Jaemin huffs from his spot on the couch, his body sprawled out as he cuddles with a throw pillow.

Due to NCT Dream’s recent comebacks, BTTF and Chiller, finally released to the public, it meant an even more packed schedule. The said schedule included double the stage promotions, fansigns, photoshoots, dance practices uploaded to YouTube, and new TikToks and Instagram posts coming in from left and right, even squeezing in award shows. It was a lot to handle, which is why Jaemin didn't and still doesn't blame you for leaving. His life is hectic enough, and the possible free time he could provide for you is thin. But his pride wouldn't let him admit that, of course.

As of right now, the boys were sitting around in the dressing room, preparing for another stage promotion, when Jaemin finally opened up to the group about his current relationship status with you—if he could even call it that anymore.

“Clearly, this is your first relationship—” Chenle starts.

“And it is.” Jaemin interrupts, deadpan.

The black-haired male rolls his eyes before he continues, “Which is why I understand she’s upset. Yes, she should’ve communicated it better, but she told you straight out, bro. It was really dumb on your part to drop her entirely without hearing her out.”

Renjun preaches, “Exactly!” from his makeup chair, to which Jaemin only groans.

Four years. Four long years of endless laughter, shared memories, and anniversaries that were celebrated in the most elegant and divine restaurants in town. Four years of happiness that soon rotted sourly by the end of it.

Na Jaemin has always been a romantic at heart. No one could ever doubt that. But he was a romantic who did everything wholeheartedly, even overdid things that he shouldn't have, like always showering you with branded bags and jewelry, or never forgetting to be over the top on dates since the moment he asked you out, or sticking to a diet that had him suffering in moments where he didn't love himself enough, or even overdoing his love for his job as an idol, so much so that it started to suffocate you.

Everything made you realize that months before you called it quits, he slowly stopped seeing you as a top priority and more as "one of his things."

But he never knew that. And when he found out, it was already too late.

He doesn’t know what goes on in your head anymore. At some point, he did. And that's what pulls at his heart the most: the fact that he used to be able to read you like the palm of his hand; he knew when you were upset, stressed, exhausted, or hopelessly in love. He was an expert in learning you. An emphasis on was.

Now, he’s here. At an idol awards after party. Standing in a crowded room full of other K-pop idols and groups as they converse with one another. It’s loud with chatter, bumping music, and soft clinks of wine glasses exchanged between people. It’s been exactly one year since your breakup. Even though you’re not in the same vicinity as him now, he knows that you’re here somewhere. You’ve been—you were—his girlfriend for years. It’s impossible for you not to be invited when you’ve become mutuals with his friends, and even made some of your own who were in the same profession as him. Someone must’ve invited you or at least told you about this event.

Wait.

Why am I thinking about her?

He has no reason to care or wonder where you are right now. He can’t feel that way anymore—he shouldn’t—he has no right to. You’re not his, nor is he yours. To love, to kiss, to connect with, to—

“Hey, Jaem, you alright, man?” Jeno asks with a nudge to his arm, his voice laced with concern.

Jaemin, not in the mood to explain his current displeasure, puts on a small smile. “Yeah, all good.” Before Jeno can ask for his surety, he changes the subject. “Where are the others? Are they still mingling and dancing?”

Jeno exhales before nodding over in the direction of the dance floor. “Well, Haechan, Mark, and Renjun are over there.”

His eyes follow Jeno's to see the said members to be right where he said they’d be. Haechan's shouting along to the lyrics to the current song that's playing, Bruno Mars’ 24K Magic, Mark's getting down and feeling the groove of the music with his (weird, but very Mark) dance moves, and Renjun's not too far from them, singing and dancing along with a tall glass of fancy wine secured in his right hand. Jaemin smiles at the scene; it's not often that the group gets to go all out and party like this with the schedules that they're given. It was nice.

Jaemin's about to ask his silver-haired group mate about the younger members’ whereabouts when Jeno beats him to it, “And there's Jisung and Chenle.”

He looks over the latter's shoulder and sees Chenle surrounded by K-pop idols from other groups as they chant, “Chug! Chug! Chug!” while Jisung's panicking right beside him, his face having “Manager's going to beat our asses” written all over it. (Jisung chugs moments after, with such ease that it catches the idols off guard. Obviously not aware of his game.)

Jeno and Jaemin chuckle at their youngest members, and while the former thought that was the end of it, Jeno opens up a new topic.

“Don't feel like dancing around tonight, huh? I'm shocked. You and Haechan are usually the first and last people on that dance floor.”

Jaemin stays quiet. He's glad his dark blue bangs cover his eyes, or else he'd have to find a way to prevent Jeno from seeing how deadbeat he feels right now. He carefully swirls the martini glass in his hand to avoid any spills. But unfortunately, to his dismay, Jeno continues.

“You shouldn't be stopping yourself from having fun, man. It's been a year; you should view tonight as an opportunity to let loose and enjoy it.”

“Jeno, I said I'm good,” Jaemin says sharply. So sharp that Jeno gets the memo with a simple nod before walking off to join the others on the dance floor.

The thing is, Jaemin knows that Jeno's only trying to help—all of them are. And he's aware that it's been a year since you broke up with him, since he's seen you, so why is he feeling so low tonight?

He should be doing the activities Jeno talked about—dancing, socializing, following his life motto of living every day to the fullest—but he just can't.

As if Jaemin manifested you, Mark and Haechan see you walk onto the dance floor when a new song begins to blast, with a man they don’t recognize follow right behind you. Luckily, they’re nowhere near your line of vision; people easily hide them away from you. I guess she branched out to dating normal guys after breaking up with Jaemin, Mark thinks.

And by normal, he means guys with lives not like theirs.

They're stuck on debating whether they should alert Jaemin or not, sucking in their breaths and switching between looking at you and your boyfriend, then back to Jaemin. But as they’re about to give up, two light bulbs pop up over their heads and sudden gasps leave their mouths. Almost comically, they suggest in unison, “Let's make Renjun do it!”

Scurrying away from their spot in the crowd, they try their best not to make themselves noticeable (which fails miserably because some partygoers side-eye the duo as they pass by.)

They reach Renjun, slightly panting, who’s sitting comfortably at one of the away tables with the rest of the Dream members.

“Guys, you won’t—” Haechan puffs out, “Believe who we just saw.”

“Yeah, this is crazy,” Mark says, still trying to catch his breath.

Chenle exclaims, impatiently, “Spit it out!”

The two members recite everything they saw leading up to this moment, which ends up being a mistake because after they’re finished, all six of them suck in their breaths, making a chorus of obnoxious sounds and repeatedly looking back and forth at both parties like absolute idiots.

“Do you think he’s gonna come over here?” Jisung whispers while the others continue to watch back and forth intently, clear panic shown in their features.

As if Jaemin heard him, they see him start to look around for them. As a result, Jisung gets a smack to the back of his head from Chenle, which the younger winces at right after. In a hurried panic that the blue-haired male could start walking over to them at any minute, the six guys rush a quick game of rock-paper-scissors. They usually resort to this in the most serious and unserious situations.

“Rock, paper, scissors!” They yell over each other. Thank God the music is still bumping so loud that no one bats an eye at their shenanigans.

“Oh, God, why me! Why!”

The next thing you know, Jisung is internally screaming and looks distraught as the rest of the group giggle and tease him about his loss. After losing, Mark and Haechan push Jisung in Jaemin’s direction. To any unknowing eyes, the duo looks like parents dragging their child into something they don’t want to do. (Which they kind of were.)

Finally, Jisung walks over to the table where his older group mate has comforted himself for the majority of the night. He musters up some courage, fearful of the possible outcomes, but Jaemin just sends him a small smile before looking down at his drink again.

The same drink he’s left untouched for a while now.

The younger rests his elbow on the table, trying to appear nonchalant, like he wasn’t dragged into this moments prior. “I don’t know if you still want to talk to her or not, but Y/N’s here.”

Jaemin pauses. The swirling of his drink stops. He feels like the whole world has.

Jisung becomes uneasy. “You’ve, uh, always talked about wanting closure with her. Maybe tonight is the night you finally get that.”

He’s about to continue when Jaemin curtly nods, not saying anything else but a “thanks, Jisung,” before getting lost in the crowd to find you.

Jisung’s left alone like a deer caught in headlights but lets out a small “phew”, then runs off to tell the guys everything.

After a few minutes, Jaemin catches a glimpse of you amidst the crowd. He squeezes through, throwing around polite excuse me"s as he passes by. And just like that, you’re in front of him again.

And you’re looking better than ever. Dressed in a short, dark red dress that fits and accentuates your body perfectly. You’re wearing that pretty smile that he’s missed so much—the one that has the power to make others happy when seeing it—except he’s not the reason why you’re smiling.

His smile drops when he sees the culprit behind your happiness. A man. A tall, brody guy, dressed in the classic suit and tie. But before he can stop himself, he’s walking up and tapping you on the shoulder.

You turn around, and it feels like your world has stopped, just like his. “Hey.”

“Hi.”

Your boyfriend, Jun, being the saint he is, senses your growing discomfort and takes it as a sign to cut in. “Hey, man. I’m Jun, Y/N’s boyfriend.”

Jun wraps his right arm around your waist, keeping you close—almost possessively, but for the most part, he seems oblivious to the reason behind the tension—Jaemin takes note of that. Jun offers his left hand for Jaemin to shake, which he does.

“Jaemin.”

“It’s an honor to meet you. I'm a huge fan of your music. You're incredibly talented.”

“Thank you; that means a lot.” Jaemin gives a small smile; it’s a small one, but genuine. But as nice as your boyfriend was, and Jaemin's bitter when he admits that, he really couldn't give two shits about him right now. “Anyway, I know this is sudden, but can I talk to Y/N for a second?”

Taken aback by Jaemin’s request, Jun stutters, “Y-Yeah, of course.” Before you leave, you reassure him that you’ll be back soon.

Jaemin takes you to a random table away from the crowd and unwanted ears. He motions for you to sit down, and you do.

When passing you to sit down as well, he tries his best to ignore how you're wearing your favorite perfume, that slowly became his too.

He sits opposite you, and you sit in silence for a couple of moments. The sounds of the party are background noise at this point.

Jaemin breaks the ice first, “You didn't tell him?”

He doesn't elaborate, and you don't ask him to. You knew what he was talking about; he knew that you did.

“What's there to tell? I'm happy, and there's no need to bring up past relationships.”

It was obvious your words struck a nerve in the blue-haired man sitting across from you. He scoffs, not fully convinced, but decides not to push it. “Right. Well, if you’re happy, then I’m happy.”

“Hm. Thank you.” You both avoid eye contact. “I see the guys haven’t changed.” You look over your shoulder, leading Jaemin to do the same. It’s quiet between you two as you watch the rest of the Dream members on the dance floor, who are currently hyping up Jisung and Mark dancing to Usher’s Yeah!

Jaemin only chuckles in response, mainly because he doesn’t know what else to say, but he supposes his group mates are funny. It’s weird. He thought he was prepared for this moment, for you to be in front of him again and to finally tell you everything that was on his mind. But now that you are, his mind is completely blank.

You face him again, your hand moving to play with the charm of your necklace to ease your nerves. Another habit Jaemin memorized.

You open your mouth to say something, but Jaemin goes first.

“I’m sorry.” When you don’t respond, he continues, “I’m sorry I didn’t fight hard enough for us—for you—I thought I was doing the right thing by letting you go. I didn’t want to give up on you so quickly like I did, but I was scared. I was only thinking about myself throughout that whole argument but didn’t realize it until you were already at my door. I should’ve listened to you instead of immediately giving up, and I’m sorry.”

He’s surprised you haven’t said anything yet—no insult, no prepared remark, no interruption. He views it as a good thing and keeps pouring out his feelings, the feelings he’s held in for so long.

“I’m not saying this to make you feel bad or come back to me, nothing like that. I just thought we both deserved closure since we were part of each other’s lives for so long, you know? I was surprised to see that you’ve already moved on, but I think I needed it.”

Now it’s your turn to speak up: “I’m sorry too.” Jaemin looks at you, surprised. The moment where you both finally apologize to each other has finally come, and it’s not a dream this time.

“When I suggested breaking up, I shouldn’t have expected you to read my mind. It was selfish and childish of me. You were just as hurt as I was, and we said some stupid things that night. But I couldn’t keep up with it anymore. The truth is, your life, Jaemin,” You feel like you’re going to break down again, and him staying quiet and actually listening to you makes it harder. “I know you love what you do, and I love that you’re passionate about it. It was one of the many things that made it so easy to fall in love with you. But slowly, it became suffocating for me. I couldn’t be seen with you in public places; I had to pretend to be a staff member every time I joined you on tour. We were dating, but we had to act like we weren’t. It was tiring.”

Jaemin nods, fully taking in your words. “I realized that I didn’t love you anymore, Jaemin. But that night, I was hoping you could change my mind.”

Oh.

He wasn’t expecting that.

“But despite that, I still want to thank you for blessing me with four incredible years. You will and always will be the reason why I believe in true love, because that’s what dating you felt like. And I’m wishing you and the guys nothing but happiness.”

“Thank you. You too. And again, I’m so incredibly sorry, Y/N.”

You smile, and this is the first time since your breakup that Jaemin sees tears forming in your eyes. “Please don’t torture yourself over me, or this, not again. Try to forgive yourself, for me?”

In response to your quivered words, Jaemin gives you a tight-lipped smile. “I’ll try my best.”

“Good.”

Jaemin returns you to Jun shortly after, giving a curt, “Take care of her,” and bless the poor man’s heart, your boyfriend was left confused at his words. Leaving you alone, Jaemin goes back to the guys, who have now moved to the open bar, awaiting the alcoholic beverages they ordered.

They welcome him with drunken excitement and smiles, and Jaemin laughs in delight. Mark, who’s sobered up the most, puts an arm around his neck, and Jaemin’s glad most of the guys are too wasted to hear the former ask, “So, how’d it go? All good?”

Jaemin takes one last look at the dance floor. He finds you smiling. And it only makes him smile. No more sadness. No heartache. No lies behind his eyes. Just the relief in his chest telling him that he can finally let you go.

“Yeah, all good.”

143 notes · View notes

k-oimani1 · 6 days ago

Text

SPIDERM— MWAH -˚꩜｡- MARK LEE (이민형)

mark cant stop yapping about spiderman and you cant stop kissing him. (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)

“You don’t understand,” he says, wide-eyed, voice already three octaves too loud, “if Peter and Miles actually team up again and then 2099 shows up, that’s like—bro, that’s like—”

You hum softly against his lips, and he still doesn’t get the hint.

“—three different timelines! And—mmph—okay, wait—wait—babe,” he mumbles as you kiss him again, “I’m trying to explain the multiverse and you’re distracting me—babe—”

You kiss him harder.

Mark Lee, your sweet, nerdy, infuriatingly kissable boyfriend, is sitting on the couch in his Spider-Man hoodie (the Miles Morales one, obviously), gesturing with one hand and completely unaware of the way you’ve climbed into his lap like a lovesick koala.

His other hand? Firm on your waist, like it always finds its home there. His thumb’s rubbing lazy circles, up, down, up, down—like he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it. Absent-minded. Natural.

And his lips—god, his lips—so soft, so pouty, so Mark.

“But if you think about it, like, Gwen and Miles—babe, I’m serious—they represent two different—mmhm—oh my god, you’re literally ignoring me right now,” he grins, nose scrunching as you pepper kisses along his jaw.

“I’m not ignoring you,” you murmur against his skin. “I’m just… appreciating you.”

“With your mouth?”

“Mhm.”

His laugh is all breath and heat, slightly shaky now, finally trailing off from his spider-rant. “You’re insane.”

“You’re talking about spider variants while I’m kissing you.”

“I was talking about variants,” he pouts, letting his head fall back against the couch, looking at you through thick lashes. “Now my brain’s melting. I had points to make.”

You kiss his pout. Then his cheek. Then his neck.

“Baby,” he groans, squirming just a little, “I had a whole theory—”

You slide your fingers under the edge of his hoodie, grip the fabric, kiss him again and again and again.

Now he’s not talking at all.

Just breathing in soft little stutters, kissing you back with those loser-lovey eyes like you put the stars in the damn sky.

“Your lips are so distracting,” you murmur against his mouth.

“You’re the distracting one,” he huffs, arms wrapping fully around you now, pulling you close, surrendering with one last grumble: “Spider-Man can wait…”

(He still tries to finish his theory ten minutes later—with you half-asleep in his lap, lips kiss-bruised and smiling.) finally some couple stuff !! *clap* *clap*

1K notes · View notes

bbina · 2 days ago

Text

BUSINESS PROPOSAL ᝰ.ᐟ . . . DINNER RESERVATION

✎ . . . things aren't going as planned the way you thought it was going to be. especially the part where you find yourself falling in love with your own boss– which was definitely not part of the agreed proposal.

[ PREV / NEXT ]

✎ AUTHORS NOTE . . . jisung just leaving bungeoppang out in the open for at least 16 hours

✎ TAGLIST . . . @mrkleelvr @jenodigital @https-dandelion @rik0shii @spacejip @yyangj3lly @multifandomania @taroddori @222brainrot @amouriu @defzcl @va1entinaa @carelessshootanonymous @onlywonb @flaminghotyourmom @do-you-remember-summer-127 @grimlinshere @yayayaiheardyouthefirsttime @hoeingthefuckup @meltinghershey @alwayswook @dutifullyannoyingstrawberrie @dudekiss3r @sibwol @mey-archive @morklee02 @httpsxnox @firydst @yuyita-rosier @ayukas @cottonjaems @monomya @neocults26 @greenyweirdo @cinneorolls @morkleesgirl @jising-jisang-jisung @hsified @kpopwh0r3 @kswluvrr @bbykaixx @90slovejeno @barkbarkseungmin @dearmynayeon @dreamheil @enhalovie @kyucides @wiishies @itslauanyduarte

128 notes · View notes

neocharm · 3 days ago

Text

|non!idol l.jn x femblack reader|𐙚Night Poem𐙚

“밤…밤, my heart is exposed. 밤…밤, I can hear your heart”𐙚

WARNING: This fanfiction includes; Slightly rude/Mean idol, arranged marriage themes/mentions, jealous and possessive idol, unprotected sex, squirting, slight overstimulation, breeding/creampie, Jeno has a slight breeding/marking kink, non-established (romantic) relationship, kissing, oral sex(f!r), asfab reader, fem petnames, lying, foreigner reader, cursing, drinking, and more. If you are triggered by these things, please look away. IF YOU ARE A MINOR, GO AWAY!

:: slow burn, roommates to lovers, fluff and smut. Jeno is a little angsty and in denial and slightly cold to you at first: sorry for any mistakes, I stayed up all night writing this. Feedback and reblogs are always greatly appreciated, so if you enjoy, please leave feedback. Thank you𐔌՞. .՞𐦯! plus size friendly, black reader!

WC: 9.4k

The pot on the stove was simmering quietly. Rain tapped softly on the windows as you wiped down the counter, and the grey sky told you that a storm was likely coming in soon. Unfortunately for your roommate, Jeno, he'd be caught in it since he had another hour before his shift at Dream Corp ended.

You folded the towel in your hand neatly and hung it over the sink, walking to the living room, you glanced out the large windows to your left and sighed, muttering, "I knew he should've taken an umbrella..." You shook your head as you recalled your slightly frustrating morning with Jeno.

You told him that you could "smell the rain" in the air, and that he should take an umbrella despite his weather app saying it would be sunny all evening.

"You can't smell the rain if there is none." He retorted before slipping his shoes on by the door, grabbing his keys, and leaving. You glared at him but didn't chase him to give him the umbrella; if he wanted to get rained on, then you'd let it happen.

Now, as you sat on the couch listening to the rain getting heavier, you felt a little guilty for not nagging him a little more. "Oh well..." You grabbed the remote from the coffee table and turned on the news, knowing that they'd likely be reporting on the weather since there was a mistake.

As you expected, the weatherman, Johnny Suh, was giving an update on the current weather.

"From 5pm to 1am, there will be almost 2inches of rain, with heavy winds blowing at exactly 60mph, with heavy grey clouds—it looks like we're in for a very long and stormy night." He explained.

"And would you say that this storm could knock out some power or do any damage?" Asked Mr. Kim.

Mr. Suh laughs and shakes his head. "Well, I wouldn't expect any catastrophic damage, but there could be light debris, such as small tree branches, loose signs, maybe even light decorations and such. Therefore, I recommend that everyone be cautious of these things. And as far as power goes, there is a high chance of power outages. Currently, there have been zero reports of outages, but we expect that to significantly increase within the next hour or so, which may last for up to a day, causing blackouts in many places." He said.

You glanced out the window again and sighed. It was only 2pm, and the rain was coming down so heavily—Jeno wouldn't be home for another hour. He would just barely make it home before the storm really settles in. "Maybe I should call him to warn him?"

"Make sure that you are driving safely in this rain, and if you can, stay off the roads until the rain has stopped and..." You zoned out and looked over at your phone. Jeno has always told you not to text him when he's at work; he says it gives his coworkers the wrong idea, and he hates their endless questions about your relationship with him.

Ever since you moved in with him, they've asked if you were interested in each other and made jokes about the two of you dating, claiming he liked you so much. They couldn't be more wrong.

You only lived with him because his parents and your parents were close friends. It wasn't until almost a year ago that they began plotting on the two of you dating, though, before you moved to Korea, his parents would only mention you in passing or talk to you if you walked in the room when one of your parents was on the phone with them.

But when they heard that you were moving to Korea, they were adamant that you were moving in with Jeno and getting 'closer'. The two of you fought against the idea for a while, a whole two months until your moving date, you were arguing with your parents tooth and nail about why it would be a bad idea. From pregnancy to marriage, but they didn't seem to care—in fact, they celebrated the fact that you thought it was a possibility.

But Jeno, on the other hand, stopped fighting when his parents mentioned those two things. Not because he was open to the idea, but because he knew that if he didn't, they just set him up on blind dates again until he settled—if you were living with him, it would save him from going through that again, then he'd do it happily. When the date of your flight arrived, you almost decided to stay; the idea of moving in with a guy you hadn't seen since you were little kids was just too much, and being forced on him was even worse.

But that day, you got a call from Jeno that changed your mind. "It'll be safe for you, and they'll stop trying to force us to find someone to marry, and they'll even pay our bills for a full year." You were against it at first, anxiously gripping the handle of your luggage as he spoke. "But won't they try setting us up again?" Jeno disagreed.

"They'll feel too uncomfortable doing it if we're living together."

And just like that, you moved your life from one country to another, and into Jeno's apartment. He wouldn't remain this optimistic about you being together in this apartment, though, eventually, as his friends got to know you, he began behaving in an unusually cold manner. It was a stark contrast between his shy but sweet demeanor, but then it became the norm.

Thunder roars through the apartment, and you jump out of your thoughts and look at your phone again. "One text won't hurt." You said to yourself before sending him a text.

────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ────────

"Jeno, do you need a ride home today?" Jaemin asks. I sigh and look out the large windows again. Unfortunately, I was wrong about the weather and didn't listen when Y/N told me to bring an umbrella, so riding my bike home is sounding far-fetched.

"I think so..." Jaemin laughs and pats me on the back, "Are you still upset about not bringing an umbrella?" I shake my head. That's the least of my worries right now.

"Then, what's wrong?"

I pause. How can I explain what I feel without saying how I feel? Jaemin has always been able to read me like a book, no matter what I say or how little I say, he knows exactly what's wrong every time. So if I tell him that I feel bad because I did something mean, he'll know what I really mean is—I feel bad because I brushed Y/N off when she was only trying to help. And the last thing I need is for him to sound like Donghyuck or Mark about me liking her.

"Just thinking..." As I say this, my phone dings. Right away, I know it's her, I have my notifications for everything and everyone but her silenced just in case she ever needs anything or feels unsafe.

Being that I'm the only person, other than my family, that she's close to here, it would be a horrible idea for me to silence her texts or calls.

"Are you gonna check that?" I look at Jaemin, and a part of me wants to say no, but he knows that I can't ignore her. So, without saying anything, I grab my phone and check my messages.

“Who are you texting?” I press my phone against my chest and look up to see Donghyuck hovering over my desk with a grin. He eyes me through his glasses with a grin—he knows it’s her, she’s the only person I ever text at work. Yet, I answer sharply: “No one.” He rolls his eyes and comes around my desk.

“Why do you keep acting like you hate her or something?” He asks. Jaemin doesn’t say anything, he just listens, seemingly curious about my answer. “We all get that you aren’t the best with flirting and your parents have been up your ass about getting married since you turned 21, but are you really going to keep pretending you don’t like her out of spite of your parents and let the opportunity pass you?”

Hyuck’s rant only makes me roll my eyes. I’m not doing this out of spite, it’s not to prove a point to my parents…I just don’t feel that way about her. And even if I did, I’m not ready to settle down. If I had feelings for her and she magically felt the same way, we’d end up married in a month. Neither one of us is ready for something like that.

“Let it pass me?” He nods.

“If you keep pushing her away, it’ll just make more space in her heart for someone else, and by someone else, I obviously mean one of us.” My eyes widen a little, and I look at him confused. “Huh?”

Jaemin nods his head in agreement. “He’s right, if you keep acting like this, then one of us will move in.” His agreement hits me like a brick to the face. Would they really? Not that it would matter to me…but there’s no way they’re actually considering Y/N as a possible girlfriend. I mean, she’s pretty and smart, good at conversation, funny, sweet, and she’s relaxing to be around, and so charming it hurts, but they wouldn’t do that. Not when she’s my roommate.

“You’re not funny,” I reply plainly.

“It’s not a joke, but if you think it is, just wait. I’ll have her wrapped around my finger in a week.” And with that, Donghyuck walks away with a sick grin on his face. I can’t help but shudder at the idea of the two of them together.

“You need to be honest with yourself.” I look at Jaemin, and his expression tells me he knows what’s going on in my head. “Or at least accept how you feel.” Just like Hyuck, he leaves me alone at my desk, and I check my messages again.

My last text was so cold, and hers was so sweet. She’s always so considerate of me and my comfort, even if I’m not in love with her, I can stand to be nicer. So I swallow my pride and, despite my last text, I send another.

You looked at your phone shocked. Jeno never texts you that much while at work—let alone something like that. Telling you to wait for him after being so aloof gave you whiplash. As upset as you were by his cold shoulder, half of you swooned at his texts. Relishing in his strange way of showing concern and care for your safety.

He hadn't been that nice since the mentioning of the two of you dating. But that thought only upset you more. What was so bad about the idea that others thought you could be dating that upset him? You could understand if you just weren't his type, but as you sit back on the couch looking at his messages you start to wonder why he was always so offended and offput by the idea of dating you.

Without responding, you close your messages and lean back on the couch. You feel so strangely hurt. What was it that turned him off so greatly? You hair? Your unique way of speaking? You didn't understand. In the beginning, he'd compliment you fairly often, calling you pretty was rare, but he always said you looked nice.

What changed?

The thought of this shift makes you more sure that it's pointless to try with him. You felt this way before, but now you're sure, you refuse to continue living like this.

────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ────────

"Thanks." I take my seatbelt off and grab my briefcase. The rain has gotten worse since I left work. I wonder if she's waiting for me like I asked, or if I only upset her more with my last text.

"Tell Y/N I said hi." I look over at Jaemin and raise a brow at him. He isn't serious, but again, the idea of them together makes me shudder. Why would he want to become close to her all of a sudden? "She's in there, right? How about I come in and tell her myself?"

I know he's just trying to tease me, but it strangely upsets me instead. She's my roommate, and now they are all talking about having crushes on her. I knew letting her meet them was a bad idea.

"Uhm, she's usually napping around this time..." I reply. I should know better than to get upset, but I can't stop myself.

"Really? Didn't you say she was waiting for you? That means she's awake." Jaemin is persistent, his grin as he looks out my window and up at my apartment makes me shift uncomfortably in my seat. "I was actually hoping she wanted to join us next weekend."

All of this attention is on her...I don't like it. It makes me anxious. I'm the only person here who really knows her, and even though I can trust Jaemin, her family trusted her with me. She's my roommate, and if anyone should be inviting her anywhere, it should be me.

Firmly, I reply, "She can't." Jaemin looks at me, confused, and asks why. But I can't give him a solid reason. Why can't she? Why did I say she can't? Why do I even care if he wants to get to know her and will probably ask her out? It's not like I like her...

"Because..." I look away from him and clear my throat. "She has a cold." It's an obvious lie. But I can't help it.

"Does she?" Jaemin asks in skepticism. I nod.

"Yeah...so neither of us are actually going. I need to stay home and take care of her until she's better." I reply anxiously, "She gets clingy when she's sick, and she likes to spend all day in my room. So I'm gonna stay with her until she feels better."

Jaemin nods his head and presses his lips together, seemingly accepting defeat, but I can't wrap my head around why I would tell such an obvious lie and why it matters so much to me.

Jaemin lets out a heavy sigh with a slight grin on his face. "Well, then you better get inside. She must miss you so much right now." I nod and put my hand on the handle.

"Yeah..." The thought of her missing me makes me feel so strange. "She always does."

As I leave his car, I use my briefcase as a shield from the pouring rain. I run inside the building and go straight to the elevator. The moment the doors close, I lean back against the cold metal wall and sigh.

She hasn't said she missed me in months. She stopped doing that a little after moving in with me. She used to greet me by the door every day after work and ask how my day was, she'd tell me she missed me, and warm up dinner, and we'd sit and eat together.

That being said, I don't know what made me lie so blatantly to Jaemin about her missing me. That hasn't been true in almost a year. Now that I think about it, nothing has been the same since the day she met them. That day, everything changed.

The doors open, and I take my key out, ready to take my shoes off and shower after a long day. I wish things could go back to how they were, but us being that close and going down the road we were just wasn't safe.

I open the door, and like every other day, I'm met with a lonely feeling. Her shoes are by the front door, and there's a sign that someone else lives here, but the welcoming touch her sitting on the couch and waiting for me used to bring is gone. I never realized how much that meant to me until now. But why now?

I hang my jacket up on the rack and throw my keys into the bowl, I slip my shoes off, and put my house shoes on. There's no need for me to linger around the house; she's likely in her bedroom waiting for me to go into mine.

That's our routine. We avoid each other until dinner and go to bed without saying a word. The way we function is smooth but uncomfortable. I never imagined that the girl I had known since childhood would live a life like this with me. It feels so robotic.

I shuffle down the hall, going right to my bedroom instead of to her. But I stop in my tracks when I notice a suitcase outside her door.

"What is this for?" I ask out loud. I stand outside her bedroom door curiously, in my gut, something is telling me to knock on her door and ask her about it. My brain tells me that its probably fine, but my heart tells me that something is wrong.

I hate this. Every time something happens with her, my whole body is at war. I can't think straight when it comes to her.

I inhale deeply, trying to relax, and turn on my heels. It's not my business. She's probably just getting rid of some clothes or something, nothing that I should concern myself with.

I start to walk to my room again, but I'm stopped once more. This time its the feeling in my gut, I can't ignore it. I stand there for a second and curse under my breath. Why would she be putting things into a suitcase that big?

That anxious feeling makes me turn back and knock on her door.

────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ────────

You stop and look up from your suitcase. "Yeah?" You call out. You know that Jeno is likely just going to ask you something about what you did today, something to fill the awkwardness of him coming home to you every day.

It's better than just pretending you aren't there in his mind. "Uhm, can I come in?" You roll your eyes and sit back on your bed.

Your room was a mess, but that wouldn't matter in a week. You plan on leaving by then. "Sure."

You stand back up and continue folding your clothes, quietly putting them into the suitcase as Jeno hesitantly opens the door. You didn't want to tell him so soon that you want to leave; you thought it would be better to do it over dinner. It's not like he cares anyway, but at least then you wouldn't have to talk to him afterward.

"Why are you packing?" Jeno looks around your room, his eyes wide.

You feel tongue-tied. You always thought that Jeno would eventually warm up to you being there, and despite the differences, he would suddenly fall in love with you and reciprocate the feelings you have for him. But you feel foolish now.

"I'm moving out." Jeno looks at you plainly, almost like he didn't hear you correctly. "Huh?" You place your shirt into the suitcase and sigh.

"I'm going back home." You turn to him, and your throat tightens; you never wanted it to come to this. You've liked Jeno since you were kids. You wanted this to work even though you were scared.

"Home? You are home, what are you talking about?" You shake your head.

"I mean, I'm leaving Korea. I'm going back to my parents." Finally, it sinks in. Jeno knows exactly what you mean, and he hates the sound of it.

"W-What? Why? Did something happen?" His expression shifts from confusion to concern. He can't think of any other reason you'd leave other than something back home being wrong. "Should I go back too?"

You shake your head and stop him. "No, Jeno I..." You pause, sighing, you look up at the ceiling, wondering what went wrong. "I can't keep living with you." You finally say it.

"It makes you uncomfortable, and it's hurting me. I'd rather go back home than keep living so tensely." You explain, "You didn't want this from the start. It would be better if I just left and we stopped going through this tension."

He can't believe what he's hearing. Uncomfortable? He's far from being uncomfortable with you being here. Nervous? Yeah. Confused, of course! Maybe even a little anxious. But uncomfortable?

"Why would I be uncomfortable?" He asks, "I like you being here."

You shake your head. You don't want him to spare your feelings. "You don't even like me texting you when you're on breaks at work." You retort. "You avoid me every day after work and only talk to me during dinner. You don't have to lie, Jeno, it won't make me feel better."

But Jeno isn't lying. He does like you being there. He likes seeing your shoes at the door, and he likes seeing your body wash in the shower. The hair that gets stuck in the tub after your wash days, your toothbrush next to his, and the smell of your lotion that lingers in the house. He likes the way your lip liner rubs off on the glasses you use and leaves a cute ring around it, and how you look with your bonnet on.

He can't imagine what it would be like if you left.

"But I do, look, let's sit down and talk about it. You don't have to leave. If there's something you want, then I can get it for you."

"Jeno, you and I know that this isn't working. Ever since that day I went out with you and your friends, you've been like this. There's no reason for you to suddenly act like you want me here."

Jeno looks at you, and suddenly something clicks. It wasn't just you that changed that day; it was he, too. But he just doesn't understand what you saw that day, which was so different from what he did.

"I already got the hint. I should've left months ago."

"Where is this coming from?" Jeno asks. "Look, let's just sit down and talk about it."

You decline once again. Why does he care now? Why didn't he care when you started becoming distant? Or when you tried asking him what you did wrong? Why does he only care when you're about to leave?

"I don't want to talk Jeno, I need to finish packing." You turn away from him and begin anxiously shoving clothes into the suitcase.

As Jeno watches, he tries his hardest to think of what he could've possibly done wrong. Was he really that bad today? He didn't think being a little distant would be enough to push you away like this.

Whatever the case may be, it didn't matter. His mind, his heart, and his body finally agree on one thing. You can't leave.

"Y/N, please. Just tell me what's wrong, I'll fix it.' In a time when he would usually shut himself away and disregard what's happening, Jeno finds himself desperate for an answer and a way to change what's happening.

You know he can't change the problem. It's not like you can ask him to like you back, and he can do it at the drop of a dime. It's clear that he doesn't feel the same way; he goes above and beyond to show that. But you at least want to know what it is about you that he finds so unappealing that makes his stomach churn at the idea. That piece of clarity will make walking away easier.

So you ask vaguely, "What is it about me Jeno?" He pauses. "What do you mean?"

You look down at your clothes, becoming almost annoyed with him. Were you really that bad?

"Why is the idea of being with me so disgusting to you?" Jeno stares at you. Looking at the back of your head with a blank expression.

Disgusting? The thought of being with you...is...disgusting? How could you think something like that?

"What?" You roll your eyes and turn to him again, looking up at him with a glare despite the pain in your chest. "I get that you don't like me, that's fine. But why do you have to make it seem like I can't understand that? You're constantly driving the point in as if I didn't understand the first time." You answer. Your emotions begin to whirl inside of you, becoming almost uncontrollable. "You made that obvious that night when they made that stupid joke about us dating so long ago, but you still won't let it go. Why do you have to make such an effort to show you don't like me?"

Jeno is hit with a whole new perspective. One he hadn't considered at all. That night, all Jeno saw was his pervy friends flirting with you and teasing him about getting away with it. In his mind, making it clear that there was no challenge for them was keeping you away from them. He didn't consider how this would make you feel.

He only thought about how much more they would flirt with you if he liked you and how much he hated it. The sight of you laughing at Donghyuck's jokes and shyly touching Jaemin's muscles, basking in their compliments and showing them that same pretty smile you gave him, made Jeno sick to his stomach.

Rightfully, he thought the best way to protect you was to create distance between you. He tried even harder when the confusing thought of why he felt this way and why he liked being around you came along.

But now he sees just how much all the avoiding he did has hurt you.

"Y/N, I...look. It's not that, I just..." Jeno can't explain. How can he explain that just being around you makes his brain short-circuit? That he dread leaving you every morning? How can he explain that he's the happiest he's been in years, without it leading so quickly to something he doesn't think he's ready for?

"You can't even tell me why?" It hurt just thinking it was true, but seeing him at a loss for an answer makes it ten times worse. Leaving really is your only option.

Jeno watches speechlessly as you continue to pack your clothes. He can't think of what to say, nothing he can think of can properly express how he feels, and he knows if its not good enough, he may lose you forever. 'Donghyuck was right...'

"I can't give you a reason for something that isn't true." He feels a lump in his throat and tightening in his stomach, but he does his best to convey how he feels. "Nothing is disgusting about dating you, I just-"

You stop him. You can't believe what you're hearing.

"Do you really think lying right now is gonna make this better?" You can feel your anger building. You never took Jeno for this type of person. He always seems so level-headed and honest, but you see now that you were wrong. "You don't even like being seen in public with me, you don't ask about my interests, or try to spend time with me. You hardly even look at me!"

Your harsh tone makes it hard for him to excuse his own actions. But he can't give up.

"That's not true! I just don't want people to get the wrong idea."

"And why is it so bad if they do?! Why can't it just be a joke and then be over with? You act like you gotta rub it in my face that I'm not your type, like I don't fucking get that already!"

Jeno was starting to feel overwhelmed; he couldn't word it, but he knew none of this was true. He always thought you were pretty, even as kids, he thought you were the cutest girl he'd ever seen. Of all the girls he ever met, you were the most beautiful.

"That's not true. I don't feel that way at all, its just because I'm scared because..." Jeno looks at you.

"Because what?!" You look at him.

For a second, its silent between the two of you, nothing but the sound of heavy rain and thunder can be heard. Jeno's head was pounding, and so was his heart. Feeling vulnerable meant nothing compared to the pain he must've caused you, so he finally accepts it.

"Because I love you."

His words don't register for a second. And your silence makes his heart race, his hands are shaky, and his palms are clammy. His heart is exposed, and he can feel the air between you tremble. He avoided this for so long, telling himself that his childish crush ended years ago. But deep down, he knew it wasn't true all along. From the moment his parents told him you were moving to Korea.

He agreed to you living with him as soon as he heard you thought marriage and kids were a possibility. He came up with any reason to convince you that moving in would be a good idea, and any reason to keep his friends from making a move on you. He was so jealous that he was willing to keep you as a roommate, but he couldn't anymore. He has to tell the truth.

"You...love me?" Jeno nods. He can't suppress it and avoid it anymore; he's ready to accept it fully.

"I love you." He repeats. "I know you don't believe me, and it probably won't change your mind. But I don't want you to leave me. I promise I'll change, you don't have to love me back, but please, don't leave."

Just as he finishes what he's saying, thunder cracks loudly. You both flinch and look out the window, and then back at each other.

"Y/N, I-" The sound of your phone ringing stops him, he looks over to see who's calling, but you grab it and answer quickly before he can see.

"Hello?" He can only faintly hear what sounds like your mom asking if you're really leaving and coming back home. He waits for your answer, and when you look at him and open your mouth to speak, he feels his breath being taken away.

"Please..." You turn away from him and clear your throat.

"I'll call you later." Without another response, you hang up and turn to him to speak, but he beats you to it.

Calling your name, Jeno steps closer to you with his eyebrows turned upward and passion in his eyes. "Please, just give me a chance. Let me prove it to you. Even if you don't love me, even if I don't deserve you...I don't want you to go." Jeno selfishly admits.

"Jeno, you're just saying that...you aren't in love with me. I understand that you don't feel the same way, but you don't have to force yourself."

Jeno leans his head back in frustration. For the first time since seeing him at the airport, he reaches forward and pulls you into him. Holding you flush against his chest. "I'm not, I love you."

"I love you so much it makes my head hurt, I'm dizzy every time I see you. I hate leaving and being away from you for so long. I love it when you text me when I'm away, I love it when you accidentally touch me, and I love hearing you say my name." You place your hand on his chest to create space, but you smile a little. You can feel his heart pounding against your palm.

"Please, just give me a chance to prove it to you."

Truth be told, you were beginning to believe Jeno. He's never looked at you with such a gentle, yet anxious expression. And you know he's not the rash type; confessing on the spot isn't his thing. He's not the type of guy to suddenly spring his feelings on you and beg for a chance. It was no longer unbelievable.

"Prove it?" Your own heart began to race. Seeing him this desperate after playing coy for so long finally makes your feelings for him feel worth it. You no longer feel delusional; a little more begging on his end wouldn't hurt. If anything, it would make up for all the times he rolled his eyes and scowled at the mere mention of you being his girlfriend. "How?"

"I'll do anything-anything." You stop yourself from grinning and pretend to push him away. His grip tightens on your waist, and he follows your gaze, forcing you to look at him. "Just promise me you won't leave."

You look at him and hesitate just a little. "I'll give you a chance...but you have to show me how much you love me. You can say it all you want, but I want to feel it, Jeno."

That was all you had to say. "Okay..." He caresses your face gently and loosens his grip on your waist just a little, slowly leaning in closely, "I'll let you feel it then."

Your heart skips a beat, and your knees buckle as he kisses you. It takes you a second to react. At first, your eyes are wide, and your body is still. But you relax, closing your eyes as you kiss him back.

He kisses you like its his last breath. His eyes shut tightly as he drops his other hand down to your back, the other on your ass, as he opens his mouth just a little to deepen the kiss. He always imagined what this would be like; he felt ashamed at the time; he thought he was such a pervert. But now, all he can think about is how badly he wants to feel you against him.

Taking the hint, you allow his tongue into your mouth, the heat of it making you moan into his mouth. He drinks it up graciously, his eyebrows knotting together as he takes a step back, leading you to your bed.

His tongue rolls around with yours; there is no fight for dominance. Just pure passion and emotion. You were both dying for this, the feeling of your teeth accidentally bumping together, struggling to breathe just a little until you picked up a comfortable pace. The heated kiss made you both feel dizzy with arousal.

"You're so pretty." Jeno breathes out, and he pulls away for just a second, kissing your neck hungrily. His hot lips pressing against your skin, he can feel your pulse under his tongue, and your breathing getting heavier. "You're the prettiest girl I've ever met..." His kisses grow messy and less spaced out. Your heavy breathing slowly transitions into soft panting. "I love you so much, Y/N."

He kisses you again, his mouth is hot, and his hands roam your body feverishly. Its as if he's trying to see you with just his hands alone. You can feel how much he means those words.

The back of your knees hit the edge of your bed, and you grab onto his shoulder, gripping his shirt to keep yourself upright. Not pulling away for a second, Jeno helps you sit down on the bed, only stopping the intense kiss when you're fully seated. You stare up at him, you feel breathless, and your lips tingle. But Jeno looks like he's only getting started.

"Can I show you?" You look up at him, confused. His face is flushed, and he looks dazed. "Hm?" He slowly drops to his knees, now looking up at you. He rubs his cheek against your knee and caresses your calf.

"Can I show you how much I love you?" He looks at you and gently kisses your clothed knee, grabbing your leg and slowly raising it, kissing from just below your knee, all the way down to your foot. "Can I eat your pussy?"

Your breath hitches in your throat, and you bite your lip. This was what you asked for, and its what you've waited so long for. Of course, it was easy to say yes.

With your light now a beaming green, Jeno instructs you to lie on your back. "I'll take care of you." Your body trembles out of both anxiousness and arousal. You close your eyes as he slowly removes your pants; the feeling of the cool air on your skin is nothing compared to the way his eyes feel.

"I love you so much." He says again, at this point, he's saying it for all the times he wished he could have. He peppers your thighs with kisses, starting lower and then going higher to the band of your underwear. He looks up at you and watches you as he places a soft kiss on your clothed heat.

Your body tenses, and his feels like its on fire.

"Open your eyes...I want you to watch me." You open your eyes and look down at him. He's wanted a view like this for years; he could cry.

Jeno places one more kiss on the shell of your pussy before hooking his fingers into the elastic band and slowly pulling them down. Jeno feels his heart skip a beat; he's already throbbing in his pants, aching to touch you from just the sight of your pretty pearl.

He's staring for so long, admiring the sight. Basking in the smell, your panties are discarded on the floor, and his head is spinning.

You squirm nervously. You fight the urge to close your legs and call his name. "Jeno." He looks up at you with his eyes half lidded. "Please, stop staring..." He apologizes and licks his lips.

"I'm sorry, its just...fuck..." He hooks his arms around your thighs and pulls your body closer. "You're so perfect." He closes his eyes and kisses the hood of your pussy, his tongue against your clip as his lips pressed against the hot, wet flesh.

Your body jolts, and you gasp for air at the unexpected rush of pleasure. Jeno moves his tongue slowly against your clit, he doesn't want to rush this. He wants to make you feel good, cumming will come after that. So he dives deep into your folds, his tongue traces your inner libia. He laps up all the juices that spill from you greedily, drinking them up with pleasure.

Every stroke of his tongue draws a sound from you. Your voice grows louder as your legs tremble beside his head. He moans against your pussy, grinding against the mattress as he becomes drunk off your pussy.

"Tastes s-fuckin good..." He mumbles against you. The vibrations make your head spin. "J-Jeno! Oh fuck...it...it feels so good." He opens his eyes and looks up at you.

He watches you so lovingly, eating you out like he's been starved. You feel so good on his tongue, the way your clit throbs makes him feel a sense of pride. He wants to give you more, he wants to shower you in pleasure.

Jeno carefully moves one of his hands between your thighs and begins rubbing your clit. "Does that feel good, baby? Do you like it?" You throw your head back as he rubs quick circles against the sensitive bud of nerves. "You're so fucking pretty, do you know how many times I've dreamt of this?" You can't even respond.

You lay there, eyes screwed shut and mouth agape, as you fall silent to the intense pleasure.

"Fuck." Jeno curses and kisses you, the taste of your own juices on his lips and tongue makes you feel so possessive over him. Like you finally won, it felt like all that time you spent imagining him with a girl who looked completely different from you really meant nothing. He's yours and yours alone.

You wrap your arms around him and turn your head away from him, you take a moment to catch your breath breath but the slow forming knot in your stomach makes it hard.

"I-I...so...soooooo close." Your words are slurred and whiny. Jeno loves it; he loves that he's the only one who gets to see you like this. No one else knows how good you sound moaning but him. He loves it.

Going back between your legs, he replaces his finger with his tongue and carefully drags the digit down your folds, wetting it a bit more before slowly sliding it inside of you with ease.

Your walls convulsed around it. Jeno moaned against your flesh and slowly moved the finger back and forth, rocking it as he curled it upward to apply pressure against the roof of your walls. The feeling made you see stars, you gripped the sheets and arched your back as your toes curled.

Your reaction told him it was safe enough to add one more finger, so he did. He slowly rocked the two digits back and forth, his tongue lapping your clit as he brought you closer to your climax.

"F-Faster...faster!" Jeno didn't hesitate to fill your demand. He moves his fingers faster, lewd wet sounds fill the room, and tangle with your moans, turning him on more.

The knot in your stomach tightens, threatening to snap. Only when he adds a third finger and raises his body for a better angle does it finally do so, as you scream out in pleasure, Jeno takes the moment to finger you through your orgasm. He leans up and kisses you as he pumps his fingers in and out of you.

The sinful gushing sounds grow louder and louder as you whimper into his mouth. You can feel a warm pool in your stomach, its so close to spilling over. It feels like you're about to burst. Jeno pulls away and kisses your neck, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses all over your sweaty skin.

"Cum for me, baby." You gasp for air and close your eyes tightly. The sound of his voice forces it out of you; your juices come gushing out of you. You squirt against his hand and wet his clothes.

"Good girl, my pretty girl." As you wither underneath him, he slowly stops. Finally letting you catch your breath. When you do all you can do, is laugh.

You lie on your back, your lower half wet and throbbing as you laugh to yourself.

"What's so funny?" Jeno asks curiously. You shake your head and look up at him.

"You just...I mean...wow..." You swallow and look him in the eyes. His eyes are glazed over and hazy. "You were so good."

Jeno grins sleepily and kisses the tip of your nose. "Did that prove it then?" You shake your head. "Wh-What, but...you felt good, right? You enjoyed yourself, didn't you?"

You nod and lean up just a little to give him a short kiss. "But we aren't done yet." Jeno's eyes widen, and he looks at you, shocked.

You want to go all the way? Jeno wants it too; he wanted it the moment he felt your pussy on his tongue, but he felt like it was being greedy. But if its what you want to...who is he to say no?

"Are you sure?" You nod your head and lift your hand, you slip it underneath his shirt, and slowly you trail your fingers up to his chest. The action makes his body shudder.

"Don't you want to?" Jeno can't deny that the erection in his pants was giving him a headache. He was dying to be inside of you.

'Fuck it.' He nods his head and looks down at you with a desperate look in his eyes. "Yes, I want you so badly, Y/N." He kisses you, and you grip the bottom of his shirt. You tug at it softly, hinting that you want it off. He takes it right away.

Jeno pulls away for just a second to take off his shirt, trembling as your soft hands caress his hot skin. Your fingertips dipping into the small crevices of his abs. He straddles you and undoes the latch on his belt, yanking it aggressively through the loops of his pants and throwing it to the floor along with your pants and his shirt.

You bite your lip and prop yourself up on your elbows. You take a finger and drag it down from the top of his chest all the way down to the top of his pants. His entire body quivers, and he lets out a quiet whimper. You grin and unbutton his pants, slowly unzipping them just to tease him.

"Y/N, please..." You look up at him, and he looks down at you with glossy eyes. "Don't tease me anymore, I can't wait any longer." You look down at his pants and slowly pull them down.

He helps you the rest of the way, getting rid of his pants the same way as his shirt. Your eyes are glued to the erection confined by his grey underwear. You can't help but reach out and touch the small, dark grey spot, collecting the precum that seeped through on the tip of your finger.

"A-Ah..." His voice cracks, and he flinches as you touch him. Heat rushes between your legs as you lick the sticky substance off your finger. It kills him to watch you taste him so eagerly. His cock visibly throbs at the sight.

"I-I can't wait anymore." He strips you of your last piece of clothing and finally removes his underwear. His dick springs free and slaps his abdomen as he does so, leaving a small drop of precum.

Jeno leans down and kisses your jaw, placing anxious kisses all over your face as he grinds his thick length against your wet mound. He slowly trails down to your chest, taking his nipple between his lips and gently sucking the hardened nub.

You whine in anticipation, you thrust your hips upward, and put your hand in his hair. "Jeno, put it in..." He whimpers. Breaking at your request.

"O-Okay...I'll go slow." He looks between your bodies and carefully guides his cock to your entrance. His tip kisses your entrance so lovingly. He slowly moves his hips forward. Immediately purring in pleasure at the feeling of your heat engulfing him unforgivingly.

You both breathe heavily. Panting as you watch every inch of him slowly disappear into your love until the hilt of his cock is pressed flush against your pussy. The head of his cock is now gently kissing your cervix. You can feel every throbbing of his dick, every vein. You feel incredibly full.

And fuck does it feel good to be full of Jeno.

"You...oh God..." His eyes flutter closed, and he tries his hardest not to collapse. He's never been the type to finish fast, never being the man who cums from just putting it in. But he's never felt this good before.

Chills rush all over his weak body, but he holds himself together as you quiver underneath him. "A-Are you okay? Can I...Can I move?" With your eyes closed, you nod your head. Goosebumps form all over your skin, and your body goes weak.

"O...Okay..." He draws his hips back, his length dragging against your walls so slowly until just the tip is inside. He waits for a moment, panting as he trembles, and when he's finally calm enough he begins slowly thrusting into you.

Your walls flutter around his cock, eyes rolling back as the thickness of his cock splits you open.

Jeno takes in a sharp and slow deep breath, and he watches your face. Knowing that none of them could ever see you like this, feel you so deeply, and make you feel this way, fills him with triumph.

Every slow stroke is full of love, his hips desperately grinding down into you. Your velvety walls are an embrace he never wants to leave. Hearing you moan so helplessly underneath him makes his head feel fuzzy, the sound dizzing and addictive.

"Say my name." He demands through his own heavy breathing, "Please, say my name." Your head falls back into the pillows, your mind is so foggy, and your body feels like its floating.

His request is so possessive, like he wants to hear you say it just to fuel his ego. And you give that to him, calling his name in a low and erotic mewl that makes his eyes roll.

His pace changes. Going from slow and careful to hungry and lustful, the lewd sound of skin slapping together and the bed creaking begin to echo as he goes faster.

You open your eyes and look up at him through the fan of your eyelashes. Jeno meets your gaze right away. His pupils are blown wide with desire, and his breathing is labored. Just looking at you makes him feel feral.

He grabs your thighs and pushes them back, pressing them down just a little as he leans his body up and begins fucking into you with a needy and feverish pace.

"F-Fuck!" Your back arches deeply, and you grip the pillow behind your head, his cock ruthlessly slamming into you as he pushes your body into a mating press.

"You're so pretty...love you so so so so much, ss-fucking good, ahhh..." Jeno's words slur together as he becomes pussydrunk. The way your walls clamp onto him so deliciously makes it hard for him to control himself, and his moans grow louder.

"You like it? Hm, do...do you like how I fuck you?" Your eyes water, sex dripping and soaking the covers and folded clothes underneath you.

You nod your head, bobbing it up and down as your toes curl. "Mhmm, I love it, I love it soo...so much." Your voice becomes quiet, and Jeno begins fucking you faster.

He holds your body close, your legs stiff and shaking on the side of him as he kisses your neck. "M-Mine." His body tenses, a deep possessive growl leaving his mouth.

This was what he wanted. For you to be his and no one else but his. Claiming you in a way that no one else could, you being his roommate wasn't enough. It never was. And now, as he fucks himself into you with reckless abandon, his mind is set on marking you as his permanently. He wants to be a part of you, glued to you forever.

The way your walls wrap around him and pull him back in, how they stretch so perfectly for him-it's like you were meant to be his. Like you were made for him.

Jeno leans up, his pace slowing just a little as he grabs your face. "Look at me, baby." You find yourself struggling to do so, your vision is blurry, and you can hardly keep your eyes open. You just barely manage to do so.

Jeno loves this look on you. Fucked out and dazed, he made you feel that way. Not one of Donghyuck's jokes, not a compliment from Jaemin or Mark. He did. Jeno did.

"Y-Yea...just like that, keep those pretty, pretty eyes on me." His strokes start to build again, your eyes flutter, but you try your best to keep them on him.

You want to look at him, see his face contort with pleasure as he fucks you, watch him melt inside your walls, and lose himself deep inside of you.

The bed rocks, headboard hitting the wall with a steady rhythm. "Tell me you love me." Your brain feels like its melting, your eyes roll, and you open your mouth, moaning sinfully; "I love you, I love you, Jeno, I love you, I love you, I love you." You chant it to him, repeating yourself like a metronome.

"You love me?" Jeno's chest swells with warmth.

You nod, you look up at him with glossy eyes, and he does the same. Desperation is written on both your faces. He fucks you slowly. Letting you savor every inch of his cock, the way he fits so perfectly, and how you mold together like two halves of one whole.

"I love you so so much..." Your words come out in a slur as you pout your lips, your eyebrows knot together. A familiar tightness forms in your stomach, heat pooling inside of you.

Jeno's eyes roll, his head lolling back as he feels his own orgasm begins approaching. Your gummy walls around his cock feels like heaven to him. He wants the feeling to last forever, but he knows that he's just a few strokes shy of cumming.

It only dawns on him now that he's not wearing a condom, but the thought of cumming inside of you, flooding you with his cum, and marking you as his turns him on so much. He knows he should pull out, but he wants to breed you so badly.

"C-Can I cum inside of you?" You nod your head, empty and fuzzy, you agree. Fuck, your eagerness turns him on so badly. Jeno whimpers and kisses you, its messy and rough. Greedily you drink in each other's moans, your bodies rocking together perfectly in sync with one another.

"Gonna put a baby in you...mhm gonna knock you up, and and ha...ha..." Jeno squeezes his eyes shut, your pussy throbs and gushes around him as he fucks you into the mattress.

Sensitive and stimulated, your hands reach for something to hold onto, slapping onto his back, your nails graze his skin lightly at first before digging into his sweaty flesh.

He whines, grunting in your ear as his hips snap forward, pushing as deep as he'll go. You cling to him as if you'll fall apart without him, holding him close and wrapping your legs around his waist, forcing him to go deeper.

The rawness and passion make Jeno feel like crying; he feels like he'll melt inside of you.

"Mhm-so close."

"You gonna cum for me, baby?" Jeno asks lewdly. "You-ahh...you gonna cum on my cock?" You curse, the crushing weight of your orgasm approaching faster than you can process.

Your eyes go wide for a moment, jaw slack and body weak as you fall apart in his arms. The knot in your stomach tightens, that peak now surging toward you as every emotion comes crashing down on you all at once. Every moment of doubt you felt, all the questions of why and how he didn't feel the same way, and what you could change, all become a blur as the knot snaps and you cum undone for him again.

Your toes point toward the sky, and your nails dig deeply into his skin-sure to leave a mark that he'll cherish.

The feeling of your walls clamping down on him brings him to his own high, lewd, wet slapping sounds grow louder as he buries himself inside of you as deep as he possibly can.

His thick cock spasms inside of you, cum spurting out and painting your walls as he breeds you full. Your name falls from his lips, even as he cums, all he can think of is how much he loves you. His dick pulses inside of you, twitching as he empties his love deep inside of you, flooding you with his cum.

Finally, after so long, Jeno has marked you as his.

He allows you to relax before finally pulling out. He's careful not to hurt you.

You shiver at the feeling of emptiness, your pussy throbbing around nothing at all as his cum and your own juices leak out of you and coat his cock. He watches, admiring the way you look for a moment before placing a wholesome kiss on your sweaty forehead.

"Let me clean you up."

────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ────────

You sit in the warm tub with Jeno behind you, he holds you lovingly as you lean your head back on his chest with your eyes closed.

"Y/N," Jeno calls, his chest vibrates against your back, and you reply in a quiet hum. "I'm sorry I was such an asshole before, I was just scared that I would mess up, or that someone would try to steal you from me." He admits.

You smile, chuckling sleepily as you look up at the ceiling. "Mess up?" Jeno nods in agreement, confirming what you'd said. "How?"

Jeno thinks for a moment, and for the first time, there aren't a billion thoughts in his head or confusing signals from his heart and gut that don't match his brain. Everything makes sense. "I guess I was just worried that we weren't ready for something like this, but I guess I was wrong."

You sigh softly, closing your eyes again and placing your hands on top of his. Your comfort gives him all the reassurance that he needs. "You're so silly, Jeno. I love you."

Jeno smiles, finally at peace, he replies happily, "I love you too, Y/N."

You sit silently for a while, enjoying the others' presence, and finally, the lights turn off with a flicker.

"Oh..."

"It's okay, there are candles in the closet, remember?"

73 notes · View notes

withlovemark · 4 days ago

Text

“take what’s yours, birthday boy.”

synopsis -> what do you get your boyfriend for his birthday when he already has everything? simple. free use of your body.

words: 7.5k

warnings: smut! but also super fluffy guys i was smiling while writing this. lots of sex. on the bed! on the kitchen counter! in the shower! in a van! oral (f receiving). cockwarming.

an: happy 26th birthday to the love of my life, the best boy in the entire universe, mark lee!!! i hope he’s having lots of nasty sex in real life…my first gift to all of you today <3

—

your boyfriend was gentle by nature. soft-spoken. warm-hearted. the type to tuck your hair behind your ear after kissing you breathless. the type to rub circles on your back while you cried at sad movies. the type to ask, “are you sure, baby?” even if you were already grinding on his lap.

mark never took. he always asked. always offered. always worshipped.

so as soon as the clock struck midnight, you handed him his birthday card with the words: free use. all day. no limits. i’m all yours.

mark blinked, rubbing the back of his neck in that shy way of his, half-asleep, hair a little messy. then he looked up from the card, a little dazed, a lot shocked, “you’re kidding.”

you shook your head, a tiny smirk playing on your lips, “happy birthday, baby,” you said softly.

he laughed, nervous, boyish, “babe. you know i…i can’t treat you like that.”

you stepped closer towards him, your (his) oversized t-shirt falling over your shoulder, teasing like it was part of the script, “you don’t have to be rough. just…take what you want. don’t hold back.”

he swallowed hard, trying not to look at your exposed shoulders, “i just…i don’t know my own strength…i don’t want to hurt you.”

“you won’t. i trust you,” you say making your way over to straddle him, fingers softly gliding across his collarbone.

he looked like he was fighting a battle inside. his thumb brushed the edge of the card again, the other settling on your lower back, “you’re seriously saying….i can do whatever i want?”

“all day,” you whispered, leaning closer, brushing your lips against his, “anytime. anywhere. no rules.”

his eyes dropped to your mouth, “you’re killing me.”

“then kill me back,” you whispered, taking his hand and dragging it under your shirt, placing it on your breast, “i’m yours. however you want.”

something shifted in his eyes, something slow and dangerous, like someone had opened a locked door inside him. he stared at you for a long moment, his grip tightening around your breast, earning a soft moan from you, then his voice lowered, “take off the shirt.”

you obeyed. his breath hitched as you pulled it over your head, tossing it somewhere on the carpeted floors, baring yourself completely in the dim bedroom light, nipples perking as soon as the cool air hit your bare chest.

“you’re sure?”

you nodded, “yes, mark.”

silence. then, in one, quick motion, he flipped you over. your back hit the sheets, lying flat, legs slightly parted. his eyes locked between your thighs and his jaw clenched.

“you really mean it?”

you nodded, whispering, “take what’s yours, birthday boy.”

mark peeled his shirt off, revealing the lean muscle you knew so well, arm flexing slightly as he dropped his sweats just enough to free his hardening cock. then his gaze focused back on you with something darker, “look at you,” he murmured, brushing your hair back, “lying here like a pretty little present.”

he kissed you then. deep and possessive. then his hand was between your legs, fingers dragging through your folds, already wet and leaking for him.

“you’re filthy, baby,” he groaned with awe, with hunger, “you really do want this. letting me use you like a toy.”

the words stole the air from your lungs. without a warning, he slid a finger inside, then a second, you moaned out his name, hips bucking up, but he used his free hand to press your stomach down.

“i’ve been holding back with you,” he said quietly, voice low with restrained fire, “always so careful. always gentle. you know how hard that is?”

you whimpered, legs twitching. he pulled his fingers out, the sudden lack of contact making you whine. he brought them to his lips, sucking your arousal clean while holding your gaze.

then he pressed the tip of of his rock hard cock against your entrance, slow, teasing, eyes locked on yours, “i am sweet, baby,” he murmured, “but don’t forget—i’m still a man. and i’ve got a lot of things i’ve been wanting to do to you.”

he bottomed out in one deep thrust. the stretch was unbearable in the best way. he was all the way inside you in a second, cock pressed so deep you could hardly breathe. mark stayed still for a moment, breathing hard, braced above you with both arms planted on either side of your head. his face was a warzone of hesitation and hunger. eyes flickering between guilt and something darker.

“fuck,” he whispered, “you feel so good.” his hips twitched. then he moved, just once, a slow drag out and a firm push back in, that made your mouth fall open around a silent gasp. he did it again. then again. a deep, tight rhythm. controlled. intense. measured like he was testing himself, seeing what it would take to break.

then you looked at him. eyes wide, lips swollen, hands fisting the sheets as your breath hitched in time with every thrust. that’s when it happened. that switch inside him completely flipped. just like that. he saw how desperate you were, how pliant, how much you wanted this. not just the sweet boyfriend. not just the gentle lover. you wanted the version of him he kept locked away.

he groaned like something had been torn loose from his chest. and suddenly, he was gripping your hips, dragging you even closer to him, your back arching from the force.

“yeah?” he growled, voice deeper now, darker, grinding with a brutal thrust this time, “this what you wanted, baby?” you couldn’t answer. only moan out his name like it was the only word you knew.

he leaned over you, one hand grabbing your jaw, forcing your mouth open, “words, baby. use them. you wanted to give yourself to me? say it.”

“i-i do, mark, i—ahh!—”

he fucked you deeper. harder. his mouth crashed into yours in a bruising kiss like he owned you. and when he pulled back, you were panting, dazed, wrecked.

he smirked, “thought i’d be too sweet to do this?,” he muttered, grabbing your wrists and pinning them above your head with one hand. you moaned under him body squirming, unable to move.

“thought i couldn’t fuck you like this? hold you down? make you sob on my cock?,” his hips slammed into yours, fast and punishing now. the sound of skin on skin echoing throughout your shared bedroom, obscene and wet and desperate.

you whimpered, so close, body arched beneath him. mark was watching you, eyes locked on your fluttering lashes, your bitten lip, your tits bouncing with every thrust.

“god, look at you,” he breathed, “so fucking pretty like this.”

his free hand slipped down, rubbing your clit in fast, tight circles and you shattered. your whole body seized, legs locking around him, eyes rolling back. you sobbed his name as the wave crashed over you so hard you nearly passed out.

“shit—shit—you’re so fucking tight like this,” he groaned. he barely held it together a few more thrusts before he cursed under his breath and buried himself deep, hips jerking as he came inside you with a low, filthy growl.

you both froze, trembling. he collapsed slowly on top of you, breath hot against your neck, arms locked around your body. minutes passed. only the sound of your panting could be heard.

“....i think i liked that too much,” he murmured, still catching his breath.

you giggled weakly, completely limp beneath him, “you think?”

mark kissed your cheek, then your jaw, then your neck, then lower. he didn’t bother with aftercare. just pulled you into his chest, legs sticky with his release as sleep pulled you both under.

7:15 AM

you woke up to sunlight creeping through the curtains, golden and quiet. the room still smelled like sex and skin and sweat. you stirred under the covers, stretching lazily, ready to start the day, but the second you moved, mark shifted slightly, the slow drag of his fingers over your hip making goosebumps rise.

then, low and husky, still thick with sleep, his voice rumbled in your ear, “where do you think you’re going?”

you froze, not in fear, but in anticipation. you felt the smile on his lips before he even kissed your shoulder. you turned your head, eyes meeting his, and what you saw wasn’t the hesitant mark from last night.

this mark was completely aware of the power you’d handed over. and he wasn’t done with you.

“still my birthday,” he murmured, propping himself up on one elbow. his hand slid down your back, fingertips ghosting over your ass, “which means…” you turned onto your back slowly, heart racing, “you’re still mine to use.”

his hair is messy, voice soft, but he was looking at you like you were his prey. he reached under the blanket, fingers slipping between your thighs, pressing into your still-swollen folds. you gasped immediately.

“still so fucking sensitive,” he whispered, eyes darkening, “did i do that?”

you nodded.

his gaze flicked to your lips. “good.”

then he leaned in, kissed you tenderly, and whispered, “get on top.”

“i wanna watch you ride me,” he murmured, sliding onto his back. you hesitated, not because you didn’t want to but because your body was still sore and he knew it. that’s why he smiled. that smug, irresistible, mark lee smile.

“what’s wrong baby?,” he said, resting his hands behind his head like a king, “taking back your birthday gift? already?”

you rolled your eyes before crawling over him, straddling his hips. his cock was already semi-hard, thick and hot against your inner thigh.

mark’s hands came to rest on your waist, squeezing gently. his thumb brushed your ribs, soothing and grounding. you reached down and wrapped your hand around him, slowly stroking him to full hardness.

he groaned, low and guttural, eyes glued to the motion, “yeah, just like that,” he murmured, “warm me up, baby.”

once he was fully hard, you lifted your hips, lined him up, and slowly sank down. the stretch burned. your hands gripped his chest as your walls tried to adjust, your jaw dropping in shaky gasp.

“take it,” he whispered, voice firm, “let me see you take all of it.”

you whimpered as you slowly took all of him in, thighs trembling with every added inch. he was so deep, hitting that sore spot from the night before. he kept you still, letting you feel every inch of him.

“fuck, baby,” he breathed, “you feel even tighter in the morning.”

you tried to move, just a little, and he let you, just enough to roll your hips. his hands guided you, controlling your pace, “not too fast,” he warned, “i want you to feel every stroke.”

you moaned as he filled you over and over again, the slow grind of your hips meeting his sending shocks up your spine.

“that’s it,” mark murmured, “you’re doing so good for me. so fucking good.”

then he sat up, chest pressed to yours, arms wrapping around your waist as he thrust up into you hard and you cried out, clutching onto him. he groaned against your neck, voice thick and desperate, “you make me lose my fucking mind,” he whispered, “you know that?”

you nodded, gasping, “mark—please—”

“you gonna come for me?”

“yes–yes, i–fuck–yes—”

“you’ve got thirty seconds,” he said, “you better fucking come.” he held you tighter, hand slipping between your bodies to rub on your clit. your orgasm hit immediately. you screamed his name, falling apart in his arms, body pulsing around him like a vice.

mark moaned, fucking you through it, his rhythm breaking, “shit–baby–fuck–i’m coming–” he pulled you down onto him fully, burying himself deep as he spilled inside you again.

you both stayed there. tangled. trembled. sweaty and full and wrecked. after a moment, he leaned back, brushing your damp hair from your face.

“i think this is the best gift i’ve ever gotten.”

9:30AM

your muscles ached deliciously as you padded into the kitchen, barefoot, wearing nothing but mark’s shirt, oversized, warm from his body, hanging off your shoulder and swaying with every step. your thighs still stuck a little when you moved — slick, sore, full of his cum.

and still…you wanted to take care of him.

so you rummaged through the kitchen, grabbing the eggs, pancake mix, and butter. you started heating the pan, humming to yourself, moving slowly.

you didn’t hear him walk in. didn’t feel him until his arms wrapped around your waist, his chest pressing against your back, warm and bare.

you gasped softly, startled, but he just buried his nose into your neck and groaned, “you’re making breakfast?,” he murmured, voice rough with sleep, “looking like this?”

you smiled, relaxing into him. he pulled back just enough to see you, eyes roaming slowly over his oversized shirt, the curve of your bare thighs, the way the hem barely covered your ass.

“nope,” his voice was firm as he muttered to himself, hands already sliding under the fabric, “no. no way. you don’t walk around like this and expect me not to lose my mind.”

“mark–”

“jump on the counter.”

your eyes widened.

“i–wait, baby, the eggs—”

“counter. now.”

the tone in his voice made your stomach flip, low, commanding, no hesitation. you obeyed instantly, turning around and hoisting yourself up onto the counter. the marble was cool against your skin as your legs dangled off the edge.

mark stepped between them, “open up for me.”

you spread your legs. his eyes dropped and darkened. your pussy was still shining with arousal. he leaned in, kissing your knee, then your thigh, then higher, and higher, never breaking eye contact. you released a sigh when his breath hit your core.

“thought i’d let you cook,” he murmured, hot against your skin, “but you’re in here dripping, wearing my shirt, humming like you didn’t just take my cock two hours ago?” he licked you once, slow and deep.

you gasped, “mark—”

he gripped your thighs and buried his face between them, tongue lapping hungrily, licking up his own release before focusing on you, “you taste like me,” he groaned, “fuck, that’s hot.”

he moaned into your cunt, eating like a man possessed, his tongue swirling around your clit before sliding back down to fuck you with it. you collapsed back onto your elbows, head thrown back, breath coming out in broken gasps.

“y-you’re gonna make me come again–”

“good,” he growled, “come all over my fucking face” he didn’t stop, tongue fast and messy, alternating pressure, sucking your clit between his lips until your thigs shook violently around his head. you came with a cry, body arching off the counter, his name tumbling from your lips like a prayer.

mark didn’t let you rest. the second your body started twitching from the overstimulation, he stood, mouth slick, cock already hard and leaking against his abs. his hands made it’s way to your waist, helping you jump off the counter before he spun you around, bending you forward, chest flat to the cold marble stone, ass up.

you gasped as you felt the tip of his cock drag through your folds, “you shouldn’t have teased me like that,” he whispered, pushing in. you moan, hands scrambling for purchase on his hips as he bottomed out.

“you knew what you were doing,” he said, starting to move, “my shirt. bare legs. cooking like a perfect little wife.” his hips snapped forward.

“you don’t need to feed me,” he groaned, “you’re already all i fucking want to eat.” he set a brutal pace, hands gripping your hips, cock pounding into your soaked cunt from behind.

“mark—baby—fuck—”

“you hear that?” he gasped, “that wet little sound every time i fuck into you?”

you couldn’t speak. could only moan. your body convulsed with every word. he reached under, fingers circling your clit with expert pressure. he knew exactly how to touch you. exactly how to ruin you in seconds.

“let go. give it to me.” you exploded with a scream, body wrecked with aftershocks, juices flooding down your thighs. mark groaned loudly and came seconds later, hips jerking as he emptied inside you for the second time that morning.

you slumped over against the counter, wrecked. mark leaned over your back, kissing your shoulder, then he whispered, “okay. now we can make pancakes.”

mark’s cum dripped slowly down your thighs. you felt used. claimed. so thoroughly ruined you could hardly lift your head. and yet, behind you, mark was humming.

you binked hazily when you felt a warm towel press between your thighs. he crouched down, tender now, carefully cleaning the mess he’d made. the shift in him was stark — from filthy to loving, dominant to gentle, like a switch flipped back to your mark.

10:45AM

you were washing the dishes now when mark’s arms wrapped around your waist again, exhaling into your neck, warm and soft, “i really need to shower before i go,” he mumbled lazily, lips grazing your shoulder. he had a schedule at 11:30AM. his manager was already on the way to pick him up.

“then go,” you giggled, “i’ll finish up here on my own.”

but he didn’t move away. he just tightened his grip around your waist. and without another word, no warning, no question, he shut the water off and lifted you straight off the ground. you almost dropped the plate in your hand.

“mark?!?!” you let out a surprised squeal as he hauled you over his shoulder like you weighed nothing. you smacked his back half-heartedly, laughing breathlessly, “your mom gave us those plates!”

he swatted your ass, hard enough to sting, “you think i care?” he didn’t. not really not when he was already carrying you straight into the bathroom like a man on a mission.

the water was running by the time your back hit the wall of the shower. you were pinned there, mark’s hands gripping your thighs, holding you up against the wall. your breath hitched as the warm water sprayed your shoulders, his cock pressed between your legs, already hard.

he kissed you desperately. his tongue pushed into your mouth like he needed more of you before the time slipped through his fingers. his grip on your thighs tightened. water poured over both of you as steam rose around your bodies, making the world feel hot and dizzy.

he didn’t ask. didn’t wait. he just took.

mark shifted his hips and thrust up into you in one swift, brutal stroke. your head slammed gently back against the tile, a moan tearing from your throat as he bottomed out inside you, filling you completely.

“fuck,” he hissed, forehead pressed to yours, “you’re still so fucking tight baby.”

“you didn’t even warn me,” you gasped, clinging to his shoulders, legs locking tighter around his waist.

he grunted, lifting you all the way out before slamming you back down, forcing another cry from your lips.

“didn’t need to,” he growled, “still my birthday,” he panted, his pace picking up, rough, relentless, fast like he was trying to beat the hands of time.

each thrust pounded you against the slick tile wall, the slap of his hips echoing in the shower stall. your arms wrapped tightly around his neck as he slammed into you again and again in punishing thrusts. the steam made everything hotter.

mark’s mouth found your neck, sucking bruises into your skin while his hands gripped your ass, using you like a toy, fucking you into the wall over and over again.

“i’ve always wanted to try this,” he groaned. he kissed you again, swallowing your moans, thrusts going erratic now, desperate.

your body started to lock up. you cried out, clinging to him as your vision went white, walls sucking him in incredibly tight. mark cursed under his breath and drove into you once, twice, three more times before spilling inside you with a low broken moan.

he didn’t pull out. didn’t let you down. he just held you there, trembling, forehead resting against yours, water cascading down your bodies as you both panted against each other.

then he kissed you again, slow, deep and finally let you down on shaking legs.

you blinked up at him, cheeks flushed, hair soaked and clinging to your face, “you’re gonna miss call time.”

he looked at you, eyes widening, “shit. i am.”

you burst out laughing as he stumbled out of the shower, dripping wet, yanking a towel around his waist.

“go, go!,” you shouted after him, grabbing a second towel and throwing it at his head. he barely caught it mid- jog, nearly slipping on the tiles.

after a chaotic ten minutes of rushed dressing, frantic cologne spritzing and muttering curses about his phone blowing up, mark was finally ready. hoodie zipped. shorts on. bag over his shoulders.

you stood by the front door, arms crossed, watching him with the softest smile. he looked back once before grabbing the doorknob, eyes landing on you — you’re in one of his shirts again, skin glowing, lips kiss-bitten, collarbone marked up from where his mouth had been not long ago, making it very, very hard for him to leave.

he walked over, just for a second, just to kiss you again. this one slow. gentle. soft. his thumb brushed your cheek, his lips lingering against yours, “thank you,” he whispered, voice warm and filled with love.

you nodded, whispering, “of course. have the best birthday, baby.”

he looked like he wanted to stay. like his body was halfway out the door but his heart was still standing there in front of you. then — his phone rang for the umpteenth time. his manager’s name popping up again.

“shit, shit, shit,” mark muttered, pressing one last kiss to your forehead.

“okay. i love you. i’ll text you when i get there. don’t miss me too much, wait for me naked!”

you rolled your eyes, laughing as he opened the door and sprinted out to the elevators.

“i always miss you too much!” you shouted after him, watching as he tore barefoot down the condo hallway, shoes in hand, hoodie flying, yelling something about forgetting his socks. he still made it to the car on time. barely. but he did it with wet hair, sore legs and the biggest fucking smile on his face.

1:27PM

somewhere on set, surrounded by lights, mics, cameras and twenty something grown men, mark stood in a branded NCT2025 shirt and cargo pants, watching jeno film his solo segment with perfect professionalism.

but mark was dying. his jaw clenched. his leg bounced. his eyes drifted around the room between his phone and the sound guy trying to fix a rogue mic wire under doyoung’s shirt. some of the boys looked focus. patient. some looked bored.

he’s sure he looked like a man who had tasted heaven and was now being punished for it. he didn’t even realize he was sighing out loud until chenle elbowed him gently and whispered, “dude. you good?”

mark blinked. then muttered under his breath, “this is such a fucking waste of a birthday gift.”

jisung raised a brow beside him, “what birthday gift?”

mark didn’t answer, just unlocked his phone and opened your messages.

markie 🐯🩵🕸️: can we pause time on that birthday gift?

markie 🐯🩵🕸️: like stop the clock?

markie 🐯🩵🕸️ : i feel like im losing hours

markie 🐯🩵🕸️: i could be buried inside you right now

he kept on texting.

markie 🐯🩵🕸️ : baby, where are you?

markie 🐯🩵🕸️: im so serious

markie 🐯🩵🕸️: they’re making me rehearse lines like bro i don’t care about the script

markie 🐯🩵🕸️: i wanna fuck you against every corner of our house

he sighed. waiting for you to read his messages. the camera crew was repositioning. sion was getting powdered. haechan was whining about how hungry he was. but all mark could think about was your moans.

then your reply came in.

baby 🌷💗: birthdays don’t work like that, markie

baby 🌷💗: no pauses. no time outs.

mark had to bite back a groan. his hand flew up to cover his face as his ears turned red. he typed back fast.

markie 🐯🩵🕸️: don’t you think it’s a little unfair baby?

markie 🐯🩵🕸️: i miss your pussy more than i miss sleep

baby 🌷💗: sent a voice note

he glanced around, paranoid, then pressed play quietly, holding the phone to his ear. your voice poured in. sweet. sultry. the audio was low, but the words still wrecked him.

“mmm, you miss this pussy, baby? maybe you should’ve skipped work and stayed inside me.”

mark choked.

“mark!,” yuta called out from across the set, “they’re calling you to camera two!”

“y-yeah, yeah!,” mark stammered, already tucking his phone into his pocket, adjusting his pants like a man trying not to commit a crime as he walked toward the camera, mumbling to himself, “god, i’m never having a birthday again. not unless i get to spend all 24 hours inside her.”

behind the camera, ten whispered to johnny, “he’s spiraling.”

johnny just shook his head, amused. and mark stepped into frame with the dazed look of a man who had been kissed, sucked, fucked, wrecked and then dropped off at work like it was any other day. he was counting the minutes until he could go back home and ruin you all over again.

6:30PM

mark was on the verge of collapse. he’d danced the same chorus 28 times. shot around 8 solo takes, 7 group takes (for each group) and pretended to smile when someone brought out a birthday cake as his members ridiculously sang him a happy birthday.

everyone else was still filming. still vibing. still stretching. meanwhile, mark was sitting next to one of the tents, sulking like a teenager who got grounded. his phone buzzed again. this time, it was his manager.

manager hyung: hey can you grab the prop bag in the van? back left.

mark blinked at the screen.

mark: why me 😭😭

mark: im literally in the middle of my suffering

but no reply. he groaned out loud, already stomping off set, still so disciplined. he reached the van, grumbling, half ready to fight someone, already imagining himself getting yelled at for grabbing the wrong bag — then he opened the door. and froze.

there you were, sitting all the way in the back, legs crossed in a tiny skirt, your shirt had a tiny little bow on it. his most perfect birthday gift.

his heart stopped. his scowl crumbled in real time.

“what are you…” he exhaled, stunned, “what are you doing here?”

you tilted your head, all innocent mischief, “well, i’m not completely evil, baby.”

he blinked. “i thought about what you said earlier,” you went on, trailing a finger up your thigh, slowly, “and you’re right. it is a little unfair.”

mark’s eyes widened, “wait—”

you smiled, biting your lip, “your manager said you’ve got fifteen minutes,” you leaned forward, “think that’s enough?”

mark’s brain short circuited. he didn’t waste a second. the sliding door slammed shut. you were spun before you could even tease him again, his hands already on your hips, with a grip so tight you were sure there would be bruises tomorrow.

he pushed you down on all fours. you gasped, bracing your palms on the leather seats as he yanked your skirt up and tugged your panties to the side, not even bothering to remove it.

“fuck—” he hissed, dropping to his knees behind you, immediately diving in with his tongue, licking a long, slow stripe through your folds.

“mark—shit—”

he growled, pushing his cargo pants down, “we’re you planning this all day?”

you moaned out a breathless yes, pushing your ass towards his bulge. that was all it took. he freed his cock, already hard, already twitching and lined himself up behind you.

“fifteen minutes?” he muttered, gripping your waist, “i’ll make it count.”

then he thrust in, the sudden fullness so shocking you whimpered out his name. mark grunted, slamming in to the hilt and didn’t pause. his hips snapped into yours fast, hard, fucking you like there’s no tomorrow.

“been losing my mind all fucking day,” he gasped, “watching you in my head—remembering how hot you looked in the shower—how you shook on the counter—”

your arms trembled as you tried to hold yourself up from his relentless force.

“i swear to god,” he growled, “if this van falls over, i won’t even stop.”

his cock pistoned into you, deep and brutal, hitting that spot that made you cry out with every thrust. your thighs trembled as the obscene sounds of wet skin, breathless moans, mark’s filthy grunts filled the space. both of you didn’t even care if anyone walked by and heard.

one of his hands came up your chest, hoisting you up towards him. the new angle making you see stars, “you gonna come for me, baby?” he panted against your ear, one hand slipping down your body to rub your clit through your soaked panties, fast and rough, his cock never slowing down, “gonna cream all over my cock like the good girl you are?”

you nodded frantically, sobbing his name as the pressure in your gut snapped like a rubber band. your orgasm hit you loud and messy, your whole body shaking, head falling back into the curve of his neck as you melted in his hold, pussy still clinging on to him.

“shit—baby—fuck—,” he choked, then he slammed into you one last time, cock twitched as he came deep inside, spilling everything he had with a strangled moan into your pulsing heat.

the van went quiet. mark pulled out, breathing hard, gently tugging your underwear back in place and letting it collect your shared juices as he sat you in between his legs.

“you okay?,” he whispered, kissing your temple, a hand softly rubbing your stomach.

you nodded still catching your breath.

“that was the best fifteen minutes of my life,” he said breathlessly.

you turned to look at him with a little smirk, “think that’s enough to get you through the rest of the night?”

mark let out a low groan, rolling his eyes like he was actually in pain, “barely,” he muttered, “you better be ready and waiting for me at home,” he cupped your jaw, turning you to face him.

“i’m planning to use every last fucking second,” he whispered against your lips. then he smirked, pulling away, carefully fixing your hair and adjusting your skirt, “now i’m gonna go before i get hard again and say fuck it to the rest of filming.”

you laughed as he slipped out the van doors, saying one more thing before the door shut, “i’ll be in our bed. naked.”

mark groaned. loudly.

he had just stepped back onto set, hoodie rumpled, hair tousled, his smile lazy and satisfied when renjun narrowed his eyes at him, “you get the prop bag?”

mark blinked. then froze. “oh shit,” he mumbled, eyes widening, “i forgot.”

jungwoo snorted immediately, “how? it’s the only reason you left set!”

mark was already spinning on his heel, jogging backward with a sheepish grin, “sorry! i’ll get it, i got…uh…distracted!”

“by what?!,” renjun called after him.

“uhmm…the sky!,” mark shouted, already halfway to the parking lot.

you were just a few steps from your car, parked a little further down from the van, fiddling with your keys, when you heard hurried footsteps behind you. you turned, expecting maybe a staff member. instead, you find your boyfriend jogging toward you with an adorably panicked expression.

“forgot the bag!” mark called out breathless.

you laughed, “seriously?”

he nodded, catching up to you, still panting a little, “i had tunnel vision. all i saw was you. the bag might’ve been there. or a unicorn. i wouldn’t have noticed.”

you rolled your eyes with a fond smile, “you’re a disaster.”

mark stepped closer, lowering his voice as he glanced around the lot, “but i really only came back cause i realized something.”

“what?”

“i forgot to do this,” he whispered, and before you could react, he cupped your face and kissed you again — soft this time, sweet and unhurried, like he had all the time in the world instead of exactly zero minutes left before someone texted him in all caps.

his hand slid behind your neck, the other curling around your waist. your fingers gripped his shirt like you couldn’t help yourself.

when he finally pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours and grinned, “okay,” he exhaled, “now, i can go back to being held hostage.”

you giggled, brushing his damp hair off his forehead, and wiping your lipstick off the corner of his lips, “don’t forget the actual bag this time.”

he turned to jog back toward the van, walking backward for a second just to wink at you, “love you! go eat dinner! use my card!,” then he turned — and immediately smacked into a light pole.

you gasped, “oh my god! mark–!”

“I’M FINE!,” he shouted over his shoulder, rubbing his elbow, “see you at home!”

10:45 PM

after hours and hours of nonstop filming, choreography, lines, group scenes, solo shots, costume changes, interviews, retakes, the director finally yelled the magic words:

“alright, that’s a wrap!”

the entire nct lineup groaned in collective relief, bodies dropping to the blankets, the grass, water bottles. mark didn’t even react at first. he just blinked like he wasn’t sure if he’d imagined it.

“…we’re done?” he whispered to no one in particular.

“we’re done,” johnny clapped a hand on his shoulder. “now go home to your girlfriend and celebrate properly.”

mark let out a weak, half-sarcastic laugh, rubbing at his aching back. “bro, i can’t even feel my legs.”

he wasn’t thinking about the birthday gift anymore. not the free use, not the teasing texts, not the filthy things he still wanted to do to you.

all he could think about now was how badly he needed to collapse.

11:00 PM

mark quietly unlocked the front door to your shared condo and slipped inside. he didn’t expect much, maybe some leftover dinner, the soft glow of the hallway light you always leave on for him, you already asleep in bed.

instead, the first thing he noticed was the smell. lavender. warm. inviting. then the soft flicker of candles down the hall. music playing faintly from the bathroom.

mark dropped his bag, “babe?” he called out softly.

“bathroom!” your voice chimed, sweet and soft. he padded forward, peeling off his hoodie, exhaustion sinking into every muscle. when he reached the bathroom, he stopped in the doorway and smiled.

you were sitting in the tub, already submerged in warm, foamy water, candles lining the counter, your hair piled into a messy bun, a glass of red wine for you and a can of beer for him resting on the ledge nearby. his towel was already laid out, fluffy and warm. the light was dim, golden, the air thick with steam.

“welcome home, birthday boy,” you said, resting your chin on the edge of the tub, “you looked like death in those last few behind-the-scenes clips your manager sent me. thought you could use this.”

mark didn’t speak at first. just stared. then…his shoulders dropped. his whole body softened.

“you’re perfect,” he murmured, stepping forward to kiss your forehead before pulling his shirt over his head, “like actually. scary perfect.”

you smiled, scooting forward to make room. he stripped off the rest of his clothes and slid in behind you with a sigh so deep it echoed off the walls. his arms came around your waist, and he pulled you back against his chest, letting his head fall onto yours.

the hot water, the scent of you, the way your fingers were already gently running along his arm, it all hit him at once.

“god,” he breathed, “this is even better than sex right now.”

you laughed quietly. “i knew you’d say that.”

he nuzzled into your neck, kissing it softly. and in that moment, tangled in warm water, candles flickering, mark felt it. not the lust. not the high from the gift. but the kind of love that made his body ache in an entirely different way.

“thanks for waiting up,” he whispered.

“always,” you replied.

the water sloshed gently around you both, the air warm and slow like honey. mark’s arms were wrapped tightly around your waist, lips brushing lazy kisses along your shoulder as he melted into you, soft, spent, and utterly at peace.

but then…his fingers started drifting. first, just tracing idle circles on your stomach. then down, dipping lower, skimming the inside of your thigh. you smiled to yourself.

“mmm,” he hummed, voice low, raspy from overuse and exhaustion, “why do you always feel so good against me?”

“you’re literally doing nothing,” you teased, turning your head slightly to glance at him.

“i know,” he groaned dramatically. “that’s the problem. i want to do everything but my body’s not cooperating.”

you giggled, turning fully in his lap, straddling him gently. his hands slid automatically to your hips, eyes flicking down and when he saw the way your bare chest glistened under the golden candlelight, he whimpered softly.

“i hate this,” he mumbled, “i’m horny and useless.”

“no, you’re not,” you whispered, reaching down between your bodies and wrapping your hand around him. mark hissed through his teeth, hips twitching slightly as his head tipped back against the edge of the tub. his cock throbbed in your grip, already halfway hard just from being close to you, from your touch alone.

“you’re still warm,” you murmured, pumping him slowly under the water, “still so big and thick like this…”

his eyes fluttered shut, “fuck, baby… don’t tease.”

“i’m not,” you said sweetly, rising just enough to guide his length to your entrance.

mark’s eyes snapped open, “wait—babe—i don’t think i can—”

“you don’t have to do anything,” you promised, sinking down slowly, letting his cock stretch you open inch by inch until he was fully inside you. he gasped. hands clenching at your waist like he couldn’t decide whether to hold on or pull you closer. you settled against him, chest pressed to his, arms curling around his neck.

“just stay like this,” you whispered. “let me keep you warm.” mark’s whole body shuddered. his face buried into your neck as a low, helpless moan escaped his lips.

“baby… you’re gonna kill me,” he murmured, voice wrecked, “you feel so fucking good.”

you held him tighter, your walls pulsing softly around him, not moving, just letting him rest inside you, heat to heat, heartbeat to heartbeat.

“i love you,” he mumbled, voice barely audible against your skin. “even when i’m too tired to move. you still make me feel like the luckiest man in the world.”

you kissed him sweetly, “i love you too,” you whispered, “you don’t have to do anything. you’ve already done enough.”

so you stayed like that for a while, cockwarming in the quiet bath, two bodies wrapped together in candlelight and warmth, breaths syncing as mark’s tired heartbeat finally began to slow.

but then… you shifted. just a little. a soft roll of your hips. the motion wasn’t intentional, just a lazy adjustment. but it was enough for your walls to squeeze around him, tight and hot and slick. enough for mark to let out a low groan, his fingers digging slightly into your hips.

you stilled instantly. “sorry,” you murmured, brushing his damp hair back from his forehead. “didn’t mean to—”

his voice cut in, deeper now. rougher. “do it again.”

you blinked, surprised, “i thought you were—”

“just… once more,” he whispered, already sitting up straighter, one hand sliding up your spine, the other cupping your breast as his mouth brushed over your collarbone.

then he leaned in and wrapped his lips around your nipple. you gasped, body jolting as heat rushed straight between your legs.

“mark—”

he groaned against your skin, tongue flicking lazily over the sensitive bud before sucking it into his mouth, warm and wet and slow. his cock twitched inside you again, growing harder by the second.

“i was trying to behave,” he murmured, switching to your other breast, dragging his tongue in a slow circle, “but you feel too fucking good. so soft. so warm.”

your hands tangled in his hair as he kissed, sucked, and licked your chest like he’d never tasted you before. every graze of his teeth, every swirl of his tongue made your walls flutter around him.

“mark…” you whispered, breathless, rocking your hips just barely, grinding against him without lifting, “you’re getting so hard.”

he didn’t answer. not with words. instead, he moaned into your skin and gently bit down on your nipple, just enough to make you cry out, before licking over it again with a soft, wet kiss.

then he pulled back, eyes dark, jaw clenched, cock fully hard inside you now, “i was tired,” he said, voice wrecked, “now all i can think about is making you fall apart on me again.”

he didn’t say a word as he stood, the water dripping from his body in rivulets that traced the lines of his chest, his abs, his thighs. you were still straddling him when he hooked his hands under your thighs and lifted you easily, his cock still buried inside you, your arms flying around his neck with a surprised gasp.

“shhh,” he whispered, lips brushing your ear. “don’t make me waste time.”

because when he glanced at the bathroom clock on his way out, it hit him.

11:40 PM.

twenty minutes left. twenty minutes left of the best birthday gift he’d ever received. and he wasn’t about to let a second go to waste.

still dripping wet, he carried you through the condo, not caring about the trail of water behind him. you clung to him, legs wrapped tight around his waist, wet chest pressed to his, your breathing already shaky.

the bedroom was dark but familiar. the sheets were cool when he laid you down. your hair was damp. your skin dewy and flushed. your eyes wide.

mark hovered above you, dripping onto the mattress, strands of his wet hair sticking to his forehead. his cock twitched as he slipped from you for just a moment, enough to position himself again, slow and steady, thick and pulsing as he eased back inside your aching heat.

you gasped, arms reaching for him instinctively. he hissed through his teeth, savoring the feeling, the wet sound of your bodies meeting again, the way your walls hugged him like you were made for this. for him.

“last round baby,” he murmured, “give me one more.”

you nodded, biting your lip. and then he began to move. slow. deep. rhythmic. dominant in its control. mark held your hips, grounding you to the mattress with every deliberate thrust. his forehead pressed to yours. his eyes never leaving your face.

his mouth found your neck, teeth grazing, tongue soothing. another slow, dragging thrust that made your toes curl. you were moaning, your body rising to meet his with every movement. your legs hooked over his waist. he was so deep. so good. so steady. he fucked you slow and sure.

“you gonna come with me?” he whispered against your mouth.

you nodded, eyes glassy.

“then look at me.”

you did. just as he thrust deep again and held it, grinding his hips against yours as his fingers came down and worked slow, heavy circles on your swollen clit. the pleasure spiraled sharp and sweet, building until you could barely breathe.

“i love you,” he said.

and that broke you. you came with a sob, clenching around him, your whole body arching off the bed. he moaned your name, breath shattering, hips faltering as he pushed once more and came inside you with a low, aching groan. his release was hot, flooding you, filling you up until it leaked out between your thighs.

he stayed there for a long moment. still buried inside you. breathing hard. skin to skin. wet and warm and trembling. then, gently, he leaned down and kissed you. not rushed. not desperate.

just full of love.

11:59 PM

mark pulled the covers up over both your bare bodies, tucking you in close against his chest. his skin was still warm, the faint scent of your shared bath clinging to both of you. his arms wrapped around you tightly, protectively, like he couldn’t bear even an inch of space between you.

he kissed the top of your head, then leaned back just enough to brush your hair from your face, his thumb tracing the curve of your cheek.

“thanks for the best birthday gift,” he whispered, voice soft and sleepy.

you giggled quietly, eyelids fluttering as you looked up at him, “you cashed in every second, huh?”

he let out a breathless laugh, the kind that made his chest shake, “every. fucking. one.”

you smiled, snuggling closer, tucking your head under his chin.

“i love you,” you whispered, so quietly it almost got lost in the silence.

but mark heard it. he tightened his hold around you, kissed your forehead, “i love you, too…so much.”

and when the clock rolled over to 12:00 AM, sleep pulled both of you under, hearts full. no more time left on the clock. but all the time in the world left for you and him.

#mark lee x reader #mark lee smut #mark lee fluff #mark lee x you #nct dream x reader #nct dream smut #nct dream fluff #nct 127 x reader #nct 127 smut #nct 127 fluff

778 notes · View notes