⠀ ✦⠀ important mature content. minors do not interact.
25. welcome to my blog. feel free to reach out to me through my asks. you can download my content on ao3 and check my pinterest. eng isn't my first language.
hii,if youre accepting any request,do you know that TikTok tread of going to forest or some thing,and someone says “Here is so pretty,no one will hear you scream” could you do a 7dream reacting to that??
it's coming !! 📬 i saw one right now about how long can you avoid their kisses that i really wanna write
haechan. “you’ve got to be kidding me.” even the boy is surprised to hear him laughing mockingly. for haechan, how dare he ask you out when he’s right next to you? do you actually like him? you must be messing with him. pure arrogance—of course he’s not jealous, because if he were, then you’d be his girlfriend, and you’re not, but the thought of you being with someone else really bugs him. maybe next time he should fuck you so hard that you forget everyone but his name.
jeno. “she’s busy.” it’s hard to read his expression right now, but he hopes the other guy will feel intimidated enough by it that he’ll end up canceling his date with you; if not, then he’ll have to give him a reason to do so. he’s not the type to pick fights, and he’s certainly not possessive, but when it comes to you, he really wants to make it clear that you’re only available for him. no one else. he’ll spend the whole night looking for an excuse to beat the crap out of him, because then, you’d go with him to tend to his knuckles, and completely forget about that jerk.
mark. “ah, seriously?” after treating everything like a game and joking around, you’d think he wouldn’t act so hurt or offended, but he does. it was clear that there were no strings attached; he used to be fine with that because of the long list of women he had, but up until that moment, he hadn’t really stopped to think that you might also be also seeing people, let alone that you were doing it right there in front of him. he felt that if he didn’t overthink it and stayed oblivious, he could handle it, but he’s always known that you wanted to take things seriously, and he just wasn’t ready —until now.
chenle. “am i interrupting?” he is, in fact, and he couldn’t care less. he also doesn’t care that you’re giving him a look that’s somewhere between confused and angry, because the guy ends up backing off. maybe that means you both feel the same way about it. going out? no way. commitment wasn’t his thing and you knew it—maybe that’s why you were so eager to say yes to that loser. if you were talking about dating, chenle could take you on dates, but you didn’t want that, so don’t even dream of doing it with others, when the right thing is to do it only with him.
renjun. “she’s not interested.” he makes the guy leave before you have a say about it, and now he think he’s a douchebag. what if he did the wrong thing? suddenly he feels sick. of course he knew the whole thing was bound to end badly, because he’s the type to get swept up in fleeting feelings; he just wanted to at least have a chance, even if you were just using him. suddenly he feels the need to undo what he’s done because he knows you’re not gonna choose him. but why you end up laughing and then holding his hand, guiding him somewhere where you two can kiss?
jaemin. not a word about it except for the frightening vibe he gives off. even answering feels hard, and you end up stammering that you’ll think about it. jaemin won’t let you do that, of course. his plan is to get that idea out of your head by kissing you so hard that you forget you even thought it. still, it feels a little disheartening to think that you might have said yes. if he hadn’t been there, would you have agreed? if you hadn’t looked at him first, would you have said yes? damn, he must be falling for you, then.
jisung. “d’you want me to leave?” after planting a kiss on your lips right in front of the guy, he dares to look at him through his eyelashes while his arm wraps around your shoulders; there’s no way he’d actually leave the two of you alone at this point, right? he just hasn’t quite grasped the whole thing, he’s not cut out for casual things; he just wanted to try it because you suggested it. the last thing he knows is that he’s actually into you, unapologetically. he's just too afraid to ask, but if that’s what you really want it then he’s not gonna stand in the middle of you getting it. cause he wants you to be happy, and he knows he can’t give you that, because he’s not the best for you.
jeno has an assigned place where his head rests: on your shoulder. with one leg intertwined between yours, there is no living space when sleeping with jeno. still in morpheus' arms (or his, you're not sure) you detach yourself from his firm grip to shift position; jeno simply can't sleep without overlapping your body, so he quickly rolls to your side to pull you to him, letting you be the one to curl up against his warm neck. the sudden move will take you out of lethargy, hearing him mumble your name softly while he's still in his dreams as if he's looking for you there too.
sleeping with haechan is one of your favorite things. he got the softest combo of blankets, pillows, and bed ever, and if that's not enough, then you have your own body heater to hug. he's so warm and so cozy; you just have to get used to being the big spoon. he likes to crush you when he sleeps with you. placing his head on your chest and listening to your heartbeats, he has this habit of making sounds when he falls asleep while you playing with his hair. he purrs in his sleep and a grin blooms on his lips, and it's the last thing you register in your memory before joining him in the rem.
you've noticed that mark dreams in korean. it's a sweet and tender observation; he often smiles and talks in his sleep, his arms wrapping you into his embrace while he's lost in the clouds. you like to fall asleep watching his expressions change and finally relax when he says a word you do understand the meaning of in his language: honey. you hum drowsily as you begin to fall and fall, feeling him wake up fleetingly to snuggle up more against you and whisper that he loves you.
jisung has the sweet quirk of talking while asleep. and those conversations are so wholesome and dearest to you. he talks about his day, about his friends, his family. it's silly late-night conversations that in occasions, it's hard not to chuckle. you like to hear him tell you little secrets, sometimes you let him go on a little longer because that's when he talks about this girl he's in love with. your heart threatens to explode when he says your name so tender, snuggling closer to you before he goes back to sleep, because even when he's dreaming, you're there with him.
even though renjun is sleepy to death, he insists on telling you everything while you weren't with him. you usually have better sleep endurance than him, but you know that he is an innate stubborn, he will never go to sleep before you, so your fingers circle his forehead as you feel his tongue getting heavier and heavier, unable to formulate sentences without slurring the words and cutting them halfway, until you see him smile right before saying your name softly, finally realizing your victorious attempt to put him to sleep.
jaemin's been having a light sleep lately and any movement or sound you make causes him to shed sleep and give you a wary look. his heart skip a beat when his hands reach out and don't bump into you to pull you to him, calling your name in the dark. he finds you drinking a glass of water in the kitchen and calms down; for a moment he thinks you've left. he can't help it, he's afraid you'll not be there when he wakes up. so you comfort him, and promise him you won't leave. so that night, he falls into a deep sleep.
for chenle, it's difficult for him to admit that he's fallen asleep. his eyes flutter as he tries to stay awake because he likes to hear you talk, but your voice gradually begins to lower making him lose ground against sleep. he also, has a habit of lying that he didn't fall asleep while you were talking. and it doesn't matter if you don't make noise, or if you stay still in hopes for him to have sweet dreams, he always battles against it until you start to get drowsy too, listening to you and the soft babble until you give in and draw him to you, asking him to meet you in his dreams.
for jisung, emotional connection is important while making love. his forehead presses against yours in missionary, feeling your body buzz at the constant hammering of his pelvis as he shoves his cock with a slow rhythm, keeping one of your legs from closing around his hip while his thigh immobilizes the other. completely and whole for him, ecstatic of the sounds he takes out of your pretty mouth that he dies to taste if that didn't mean you would stop moaning like that. renewing him with more energy to last all night at every exhausted exhalation from you.
your sight is filled with bright flashes as your body arches over jaemin's. a choppy, airy moan comes out of your thick throat, feeling your pulse pump behind your ears and slow your heartbeat to the beat of the spasms pulsing around his cock. a tingling embalming your body fleetingly to the release of your climax as you resume the swing over his erection, looking at him with misty eyes the way he growls and clenches his jaw, suffering a spasm that makes him raise his hips in your encounter, riding him with the deep and accentuated swings of your hips, holding him by his hands when he extends both of them towards you, giving you support so that you continue to take him.
stargazing at renjun's love stare as he glides in and out of you, skin glowing like a galaxy from the pearls that are formed by sweat. you feel his hand guide you by the chin back to his eyes when they drift away, unable to look at him when a blaze of fire sends shivers down your belly. feeling his cock twitching the moment your eyes roll and try to maintain eye contact. you see him have his own internal struggle of not nutting just there because of your eyes filling with tears of bliss when he hits just right the sweet spot of your core.
mark is unable to take his eyes off you, your body, your whole being. breath stuck in his throat as his gaze full of worship sweeps your body shamelessly as you ride him with deep strokes, hips going back and forth on his length, already coated with precum and your thrill. eyes fixed on your body moving on top of his, rolling your hips in circular motions that send him into limbo, enraptured and bewitched by your pretty eyes being devoured by your pupil. his heavy gaze being completely black like two pools filled with gleaming desire, before he rolls them back at the sight of your dazzling figure and your silky moans.
unable to stop the flow of burning words in his throat, chenle looks at you with pleading eyes as he floods you with compliments. how good you feel. how in love he is with you. how wonderful you look taking only his tip in your small and pretty cunt. he delights in knowing that he is making you feel good only with half of his dick in that your stomach vibrates under his palm and your lips let out small and delicious squeals, filling you with praises and sweet words that make your belly tighten and you start soaking his cock with your lubrication and gripped him, prompting him to push the rest of his cock inside you and fucks you senselessly.
a sigh leaves your lips accompanied by your trembling and choppy breathing, peeking into the place where jeno buries himself to the base of his shaft, leaving you with a feeling of suffocation and fullness. the friction of his circumference against your gummy walls causes him to clench his jaw and close his eyes like two crescent moons, completely possessed after making love to you until exhaustion. your eyes can barely see the darkness that blurs their gaze by seeing you so sensitive, with tears that he occasionally rinses from your cheeks and pearly skin in sweat. sensing his breath in your stomach before you feel his tongue wander through your shivering body, grasping his lips at the height of your breasts where he sucks in delight, tearing a mewl from your lips before resuming his pounding; another love bite on your beautiful figure along with his fingerprints that denote his belonging.
a tingling dams your senses, unable to form a coherent thought as your body consumes itself in the urge that fills you while haechan stimulates every nerve in you. every ounce of sanity left your body, and you're counting the moons and stars dotting his sweaty face, eyes barely open and fogged by desire boiling in his pupils. he buries his cock to the base of his girth, feeling every pulsation that your walls suffer around him, making love to you with accentuated and short thrusts due to your legs wrapped loosely around his waist that he has to secure again every so often. sliding in with hard strokes before pulling it halfway and shoving it back in, mouth desperately seeking yours in a long chaste kiss before he lets out a repressed whine that reverberates in his throat as he releases his load.
someone on x mentioned about jaemin being obsessed with miffy all of a sudden and now i have to write about it cause we both think it's not his but his gf's 😭 library
next: things they leave at your place.
jaemin: stuffed animals. you were a little embarrassed to admit that you couldn't sleep comfortably because of that, but jaemin knew you; he'd visited your apartment before, of course, he's familiar with your habit; he knows what's your favorite of them all. it sleeps between you two, but sometimes you forget it at your place, so little by little his bed began to fill up with stuffed animals that he complacently buys for you, that somehow gives him company when you're away from him.
haechan: dried flowers. he's partially the reason why all the books that are not his in his apartment have petals pressed between the pages. of course, you like flowers, but what you like most is to preserve them 'cause they mean that much to you. he likes to borrow some of your books from your place, but sometimes you forget half of them have flowers still in there so every time he tries to read he finds them between the pages.
jeno: plants. his apartment slowly transform into your mini flower sanctuary because —silly you, you keep buying plants even when you don't have room for one more. you often bring them to his place claiming they need a new home; jeno's apartment apparently has greater sunlight than yours, but why does jeno feel warmer when he visits you? because it feels familiar? maybe it's because he likes you a little. or just like your flowers, he likes you a lot.
chenle: things to knit. every time his friends go to his apartment he must make up the story that he's started knitting thanks to you and your habit of leaving your knitting things in his place. telling the truth would be easier if it weren't for the fact that chenle doesn't even know what to say because, of course, friends sometimes forget things in each other's apartment all the time, but your things always tend to be forgotten in his room.
mark: perfumes. he's a sucker. he spends his time trying to smell more when the scent of your perfume dances in the air or stays impregnated on his clothes when you greet him. so much so that when you forget them on his place, he perfumes the corners of his apartment, as if he could invoke you with it. thinking that if he puts perfume on the pillows, maybe you are the one who leaves your scent when you stay overnight.
jisung: lipstick. your favorite lipsticks had started to become scarce until you discovered that they weren't lost but somehow found again at jisung's place. once you found one in the bathroom, you thought you had forgotten it when you ended up in his apartment after an outing with friends, but then, then he lent you his jacket and there was another one there. and when he kissed you, and kissed you, and kissed you, and you woke up the next day in his room, you weren't so surprised anymore that there was one right next to his bed, on the bedside table.
renjun: shoes. it's not so rare. you arrive at your mutual friends' room, take off your shoes and after laughing and drinking, you end up with someone else's because you can't find yours. and then, later, after months, it starts to be a habit. you both have the same style, although he must admit that he likes yours better. and you probably think he's clueless for taking yours, when in reality he's always waiting for you to pick them up at his apartment.
requested. library. you can check them calling you babygirl.
jeno. “babygirl?” don’t blame him; not knowing makes him more of a sweetheart and impossible to not feel the rush of affection that overwhelms you. “aw, my baby!” he has no choice but to remain clueless, slowly beginning to figure things out. “huh?” you see, he’s actually a genius in disguise. he just has to endure looking foolish in order to get kisses, got it… kinda.
haechan. “me?” even though he is trying to joke back, his cheeks have turned red. “mmm,” you nod, “pretty, pretty.” stroking his chin. he pulls away from your touch, covering his mouth; he can hide behind that jokester façade all he wants, because while he does so, his eyes are unable to hold your gaze. he’s nervous, and you smile. of course, he likes it.
mark. he looks at you like you’ve been bitten by a bug. you check yourself to see if you’ve grown a second head. “wait, are you talking to me?” can’t you just call your boyfriend babygirl? you plead guilty. he bursts out laughing, and when he calms down, he nods in agreement. “ok, i guess i’ll be your babygirl.” he assumes kissing your forehead, although you think he’s just leaned in to make sure you haven’t really gone crazy.
renjun. “baby, i’m not.” the fact that you overlook his perplexed expression as you act like nothing is wrong and kiss his pout is far concerning to him, because apparently that makes him more adorable. “but you are to me.” you actually look sad that he dislikes it, but then… then it turns into a silly compliment that he looks forward to every time he does something, feeling his cheeks flush.
chenle. you can only watch as he crosses his arms and puts on an impenetrable look that starts to make you feel self-conscious. you think you’ve hurt his feelings, or that he likes you less, but then you see him open his mouth to give you the longest lecture you’ve ever heard in your life. “... because think about it, if i were your baby girl, then you would be the one buying me gifts.” … “chenle... that’s a sugar baby.”
jisung. he’s… lost for words. it’s as if you’ve spoken to him in another language. he’s so stunned that he doesn’t even hug you in return. “am i a girl?” he asks, and as if that weren’t enough, he points to himself. you nod, “my girl,” you insist. he kisses you on the cheek when you check that you haven’t broken or misconfigured anything inside him.. “okay, i guess.”
jaemin. in the dimly lit room, you can’t sleep a wink. he’s fallen asleep, or so you suspect. you’re completely wrong when he catches you silently watching him. a giggle escapes both of you, and even though you’d die to sleep with him, you can’t help but feel a surge of affection. that’s the effect he has, the calm he makes you feel. “my babygirl.” he doesn’t argue, he doesn’t contradict you. he just smiles, as if the nickname suits him. “mmm. yours.”
pairing renjun x afab!reader jisung x afab!reader genre dark academia, thriller, smut content exhibitionism, riding, oral fixation, hand job, creampie wc 4k
up to this point, little had you noticed that the academy was full of them, braiding their hair, hugging each other until some organ collapsed, making mischief in a group, cornering you and pulling your hair and scratching you. always their prey. never one of them, despite loving jisung as much as they do. what are they to him? who are you to him?
the sound cracks the silence the moment a prick grips your hands in pain. the din surprises you more than the pain that burns the back of your hand, because while your body rest in the philosophy room, your mind travels among the wind-blown branches outside.
there's a man in a classroom, with foxy eyes and a liking to prey on others. holding a wooden ruler with eager apprehension, makes you believe he wanted to use it a second time.
a slight smile unsettles you as the lash of pain swirls in your stomach. it flutters and grows warm.
the fox is also a biology teacher. bunnies like him and it’s obvious why; he’s handsome. youth has not escaped his fine, masculine features, yet his skin is not smooth; a scar runs from his temple to his cheek, like a widened smile made by a claw. you often wonder if he has lived another life, one where he has been transformed from a vicious beast into what he is now. he likes the smell of fear and agony above all beauties.
once he has tasted enough of both, he moves on, “now... back to what i was saying.” walking away, he turns his back to you. and you look out again.
it is shade and a breeze fusses your ponytail. outside, plush creatures graze under the serenity of the garden during classes. there is no one in the courtyard to break the calm that envelops the atmosphere that pull you towards it —the wind, calling your name.
sometimes the fox's appetite is very voracious and he must return to lurk; a snort is interspersed with the murmur of the breeze, and this time, you wait for the whiplash and the following sensation while watching a black rabbit contemplating you from the backyard.
the recess bell rings off the vaulted ceiling and you waste no time grabbing your things and hurrying to the exit before the bunnies —who laugh behind you, have time to mess with you. they're always laughing. always lurking. their presence always surround you in every hallway you enter, in every room, in every classroom. up to this point, little had you noticed that the academy was full of them, braiding their hair, hugging each other until some organ collapsed, making mischief in a group, cornering you and pulling your hair and scratching you.
you’ve always been their prey. never one of them despite loving jisung as much as they do.
when you reach the library tower by an alluring energy influencing your guts, your body is easily snatched away and cornered in the dark space of a corner. then, the trance you were inmerserd break like leaves under someone's shoes as a pair of hands cover your mouth, making your heart beat wildly in your ribcage. out of place and dazed, your eyes focus jisung's playful gaze on the darkness. “did i know what love is? eyes, deny it, for i have never seen beauty until now,” he recites in a whisper.
little by little you wake up from your lethargy to pronounce, “romeo and juliet. my favorite.”
he grins boylish, “i know.” his hands take yours and pulls you away from the wall towards the light that streams in from the immense windows of the library's resting. “what are you doing here?” he wants to know.
“i wanted to see you.” you watch him smile fleetingly before he returns to his table, with books and papers strewn in all directions. he begins to arrange then under your gaze. his peaceful hands tidy up the papers with parsimony, with extreme dedication and care despite the fact that most of them are already torn. not by him, but by fingers that only know how to let go and leave marks.
the sun outlines his figure when you kneel in front of him. the shadows outcast his angular features, hidden deliberately; somber eyes register your hands helping him carefully pick up the mess around him, “let me take care of it.”
“my sweet yn...,” he begins to say.
and feeling rejection in his voice already, you add, “the wounds.”
you don't know yet how long you wanted something so much. to feel his skin under your palm, to make him happy. little did you know about his other encounters, you suspected it. being pursued must be torture, if you didn't like it. and jisung seemed to enjoy it. he was never unkind to them, even though you suspected that they were invading his privacy a little dangerously, and when someone is at your mercy like that, they want to do anything for you. with his charm, he could have them all, if he didn't already.
his eyes always looked insatiable. seeking pleasure elsewhere was not foreign to you, but once you had tasted what he could give you, you wanted to be the best of them all. you wanted him to choose you every time he felt that way. you’ve repeated your intimate moment a million times in your head. his beautiful face, the sounds he made, his hands imprint on your waist.
even though your imagination has run wild before, you wanted to tie that moment to your bedpost and make it last forever.
the longing, the anticipation. you can't believe he nods. you can't be wrapped around the thought he's agreed.
he helps you stand up, and then lets go of your hand so you get to chase him. it's been a while since you last pictured a scenario like that, him leading the way and you complacently following behind.
his hair moves in the autumn breeze when he runs down the hallways. it brings his scent to you. he smells of books and coffee.
you'll always find jisung reading and reciting. he's ethereal and difficult to describe, as an enigma. he's sweet, but distant. mysterious, but like an open book. you seem to know him, but at the same time, you feel that you don't.
when you reach the infirmary, he seems out of breath and you’re the one breathless. “where do you want me?” he asks, starting to remove the shirt from his body.
his eyes shoot upwards to look at you when you're slow to respond, so he smiles.
“on the bed.” your mouth dry, your throat feels sandy. your eyes, attracted to his body, register red crescents on his skin. everywhere.
jisung is oblivious to the sensations that overwhelm you when his hands pull you to him.
willing, eager.
for a moment you think you're going to straddle his lap, but he lays you on the bed by the waist, sitting face to face. he leans back, naked on top, and stretches his legs on either side of your body, locking you in the middle. the fluorescent light from the infirmary reveals the different shapes of crescents on his chest, shoulders, and stomach. some are pinker and others are deep red; some you recognize and others seem to be recent.
some of them looks like teeth.
he watches you look at him, perhaps trying to see if his black eyes reveal shame or maybe regret, but they don't. they never reveal anything. so you forget the subject, and start treating his wounds. “is it to your liking?” you ask, wanting, no, in need to know the reason why he would allow it; but sometimes things don’t have a reasoning, they just exist the same way you do.
“i don't hate it.”
is it because he doesn't know anything but that, haven't you been sweet enough? or did you greed overshadow it?
“don't you hate being hurt?”
“is it their fault that they don't know anything else?” he asks, following your moves with his eyes. “it's my fault, then.”
constrained, your fingers tremble on his fair skin. “why?”
“i should've stopped, but i like the attention,” he simply says, and you look at him, wearied.
he likes them.
“do they fulfill it?”
“til now.” he says, watching you work diligently.
“do they love you?,” you ask once more. do they love you like i do? am i a flawed kind of girl who loves you less than they do?
“you're boring me.” he hides his cruelty with a smirk, even though there is nothing funny in his eyes. there is simply nothing.
“i just want to know what am i to you?” you hear yourself again.
“that's not the right question.” he sighs when alcohol penetrates a freshly made wound. his breath hits your cheek and the sound it follows tempts you.
“what would be a right question?”
“learn from me, if not by my precepts, at least by my example, how dangerous the acquisition of knowledge is.”
jisung is inclined to tell more riddles than truths. you wonder where he got that from, but the books you steal and hide under your bed. “you're citing shakespeare again,” you notice, “is it because it's easier to recite to others than yourself?” a smile dances on his lips, but after rolling his eyes, he gives in.
with one movement, you are drawn closer to him and all your questions fall like a house of cards with the breath of his mouth against your cheek. “they adore me. one more than the other. and i love them because they are mine. although i'm not sure if i found them or they found me.” his voice is only a whisper, and with each statement, his lips leave moist kisses at the base of your neck. your hand cradles his face when the kisses begin to wreak havoc on your judgment. and the questions fade out of your mind when you feel his tongue taste your skin. “anything else?” he asks, sending shivers down your spine.
“will they find you here?” you question, connecting the tangled wires of your brain.
“i'm good at hiding.”
your hips act on their own and you get up to sit on his lap. hands assisting you along the way, he lifts your skirt and grind you over the bulge in his pants. his mouth bites, licks and kisses your neck and you find yourself in a trance. a disaster of exhalation and short circuits as he makes you rock on him, erection hitting your clothed core and making your eyebrows come together.
your skin breaks in goosebumps, and gets warmer. a pool of fire slips down your belly and soak his lap. with the rocking movements he’s making you do with his big hands, you begin to pant sensing your body starting to react at his doing. jisung moans against your skin before you force him to detach from yourself to unbuckle his pants. looking at you carefully, he catches his breath as his expert hands remove your skirt along with your underwear out of the way.
his fingers barely brush your wet core when you react by biting his shoulder. his thumb begin to make circular motions as one finger inserts into you, and you gasp for more.
he's humming slightly along with your moans, when he inserts another finger inside and you feel warm. your walls take him perfectly before he starts pumping you up, tracing shapes on your clit with this thumb. your feminity fits in the palm of his hand, and the mere touch of his skin against yours makes you tremble. he’s holding you the same way he holds your gaze from below, when you sit on his lap and start to fuck him into you.
he sneers when you take control and his fingers stay still while you move back and forth on them. the sweet sensation of his digits wrapped between your walls start to unfullfil your hunger. his black eyes glow with savagery. freezing when you climb up on him and get so close —you can swear they contain asteroids. clawing his shirt, he rejects your touch when you try to taste his mouth.
“i don't kiss,” he tries to sound gentle, but your heart aches like a dagger stuck in it. “i might die if i do.”
you slow down against your own will. despite the rejection, jisung brush your cheek when seeing you tear up, “is it because i'm not like you?” you ask, hardly.
your questions are undone, your feelings are overshadowed when jisung moves his fingers pleasurably. pumping you and making you feel better. he almost silences what you feel, you almost don't hear the crackling in your heart.
“it's because you're not like me. but something better,” he pronounces.
your hands grab his shoulders and your body lifts slightly, giving him more room to move nimbly in and out of you. but it's not enough. “i want you.”
he grins, “that's my girl.” you feel empty when he removes his fingers out of you. shiny, he licks them clean under your gaze. there’s a mess on his pants when he looks down, but he grins almost content.
you let him move you at his will, watching him struggle with unbuckling his pants, you help him undress.
his thick cock fascinates you once again. more clearly, you appreciate its full length and how appetizing it looks erect and twitching. it barely fits in your hands. hard and enticing, jisung lets you guide it toward your eager entrance. beneath your skirt, it disappears from view and makes you frown when you manage to fit it inside you.
you hear him sigh before his head tilt back. overwhelming, your arousal slip down his gleaming cock and helps you slide it all the way in. “oh, god…” your hips shakes from the full feeling that fills you, moving slightly from side to side to generate friction and room. your gummy walls warm his lenght as you rock back and forth slowly, sensing every nerve on your body waking up. you drink all the sensations, the numbing feeling taking over you, your mind shutting down and your body lighting up.
when you increase the intensity, he moans your name first.
back and forth, you ride him with haste, hearing the soaking sounds of your pussy coating his erection. it’s so big it hurts good. when he reach his fingers to your belly, you feel him in your stomach. hitting your needy spot, your legs tremble and your mind fill with his voice.
something better. something better.
while his hands help you go up and down, and his moans fill your ears like a sweet melody, you imagine. liquid desire spreads through your mind and gives tinder to your illusions. your eyes close and enjoy the swaying of his motion. his length hit your sensitive walls and you whine in ecstasy.
“agh…—, yes.” your head lolls back as you feel his cock hammer you relentlessly. pounding into his dick, your vision fades to black, sensing the waves of pleasure washing you. your breathy moans and soft whines fill the room, and it almost feel like it echoes back.
“feels good?” he makes you moan his name. “tell me how good you feel?” jisung uses his strength to make you move on top of him when it is inevitable that you stop from time to time so as not to lose control. “s—sso, good… aw.” he laughs when you struggle to bring words out, and start whispering things in your ear that only makes you tremble even more.
his immaculate face cover with pleasure as you accentuate the thrusts, increasingly desperate, filling the void on your belly, taking your breath away. “keep up, shit.”
there's a voracious hunger in you. and you can't fill it or reach it when he cums and you stroke his load while looking in his eyes.
you're afraid you'll never be able to do it, and as he could read your mind, he says, “be careful with what you wish for.”
he gets you off of him, and disposes you with such simplicity that you're dizzy from bliss to argue. he begins to dress and it's perhaps his punishment for asking so much that you can only watch him leave you undone with your ache. an aching that won't go away and only grows and grows, taking up space, taking over.
you should throw yourself at his feet and beg, but you don't, and it's what scares you the most.
...
you must clear your mind before it drives you crazy.
you drag your feet while your body feels like lead, vigorously unable to think clearly. you think about all the nights you have spent in the sole company of nocturnal creatures watching you through the window, those confidence-keepers who have seen your morals laid bare. sleepless nights spent imagining, sculpting faces in the darkness, giving names to your desires, to your fantasies.
but it’s not enough. you need to extinguish this.
your belly ache and it keeps you from thinking straight; you want him back, but you’re not so sure if he’d receive you like this.
you're broken, you find wild animals endearing, you keep a lone wolf company, you are fond of bunnies even though they dislike them.
you're not like them.
your hands push open the heavy door to your room after leaving the pantry but the loneliness of the space overwhelms you.
the bed has been freshly made by invisible hands that enter your room when you're not there. and even though you know they're not hiding in the closet, your hands rush to the doorknob with the only thought that begins to gnaw at you.
renjun is gone and the wind brings you the eerie laughter of the bunnies.
perhaps the reason you are not like them is because you are worse.
with their mockery and their harm, their kindness to slaughter you. stray girls or a hive mind, designed by a god. you see them and wonder, did god love you less? when he made you, did he divide you fairly, or did you get jealousy and unfulfillment?
you find him before the bunnies. and your gaze is enchanted by such an outpouring of emotions. in front of you, brushstrokes and traces of fingers form a dreamlike mural.
renjun has painted wildlife. an iridiscent figure blurred, and the clues are on his fingers... on his cheeks and clothes. like a piece of art.
he doesn't even notice you when you arrive, but when he turns around and sees you, it's as if he's been waiting for you.
“you must be hungry.” irony hits you back.
when god made you, you got lost among tall trees and nocturnal predators. and along the way, you began to like it. it's very easy to lose things in the woods, you’ve grown fond of it. the forest was dark and gloomy when you found him last night, half-naked and dazed.
and he was lost.
you were sure you had seen him before, but not here. in a dream. one where it smelled earthy and wild…
“berries?” you propose. ripe and glazed, they shine on your hands, and it almost look like blood.
your leaden limbs suddenly light reach them out, fueled by a frantic, pulse-pounding necessity. your fingers tremble as they hover near his cheek, fearing that if you touch him, he might dissolve into pigment and dust.
“it’s not berries that i want,” he says, dispatching them with his eyes. eyes that look like two bottomless pits of deep water, pupils blown wide, as if they’re more for night hours.
the laughter of the bunnies outside fades, replaced by the rhythmic thrum of your own heart, stopping.
he looks violently out of place, “you look like you’ve seen a ghost,” he murmurs, and his voice has the dry, raspy quality of rain-soak earth. “pale,” he declares.
renjun reaches out now, and his fingers are still slick with wet pigment when he traces the curve of your lower lip. “here.”
“you can talk…”
“of course i can talk.”
“since when?”
“since this morning, when i woke up from a dream.”
he was nothing like you knew. the little friends you made were complacent and gullible. he was nothing alike. witty, and pensive, he seemed to know your deepest secrets even before you. “but you… you're hungry for something the forest doesn't give away for free.”
you know it, deep down. whole nights praying and whole days looking at rabbit-shaped clouds. the bunnies used to taunt you for spending so much time in the forest, until something happened and you couldn't go back anymore. you had been cursed.
this hunger you’re feeling, it knows no end.
he knows it. he looks at you and chuckles, “you need to ask.”
“ask for what?” you reply, lost as always.
for forgiveness, for exile, for love. you come into this world without a shred of knowledge and you're already stuck in the wolf's cage, thinking you could cover the sun with your finger and that clouds must taste like cotton candy. all of this comes together and you're barely able to stop it because the only thing you know is that you know nothing.
he must see it, he stops the questions; he gives in. “only for this time,” he pronounces and you’re as lost as before.
he leans in and his mouth catch yours with a soft, experimental pressure that quickly deepens into something voracious. sharp, a frantic collision of teeth and plump lips. as you kiss, the paint from his face smears onto yours, blurring the lines until you can’t tell where your skin ends and his masterpiece begins.
he corners you, pins you against the heavy wooden table where paints get splattered. he's so close you can hear his racing heart, beating at an almost impossible speed. he tastes like earth and damp leaves. he smells like home.
with no escape, he presses against you and you find yourself ecstatic. with no desire to stop him or hold him back, he spread your legs and settled between them.
covered in paint everywhere, his fingerprints stain your neck and chest, thighs and cheeks. when he pulls down your panties, it feels like a trap closing tightly. one you don't want to escape from even though the door is wide open.
getting stuffed by his girth takes your breath away, and your moans bounce off the vaulted ceiling, coming back to your ears. he thrusts into you hard, sinking deep before pulling out and pushing back in. the table beneath you creaks with his sudden movements, your body propelled back and forth as he fucks you deliciously.
and suddenly his words come back to you. and the answer appears so simple now. you needed to ask for this.
your pussy hurts from restraint. your belly releases flying animals that crawl out of your mouth and make you cry out. your own moans return, multiplied, and in the haze of your mind filled by his own sounds, you start to think that invisible creatures moan with you and they all seem to enjoy how much pleasure it gives you to be held by the hips and taken by him.
“oh…” a sweet and needy pain washes you, so unbearable that you’re grinding your teeth and shutting your eyes hard. “yes.”
“curse for me,” he asks, hammering you in a exquisite way it makes your body shrink and tense up.
“agh— f—fuck!” he destroys you with every thrust of his hips. touching the sweet spot of your pussy, without ease. his rhythmic thrusts change pace from hard to fast and you cry, feeling faint from the exhilarating sensations.
he chuckles, head tilted back, bathing in the bundle of sensations your body is granting him. getting so pussy drunk, he grins as he fucks you.
you hiss at the sound of your own pleasure coating his length. messily, your eyes drop to the encounter of your bodies and you get teary at how tempting it looks; he must enjoy the view, he makes a sound every time he thrust you.
“oh~” you pant, grabbing his shirt so he can penetrate you deeper.
the sweet burning of your tingling core being shredded makes your eyes roll. he hits the swelling that grows tighter and tighter and a divine sensation is unleashed in your stomach.
both legs numb tremble while a faint scream reverberates in your throat when the sensation expands through your extremities, and grips your pussy.
when his fingers trace circles in the sensitive area, you accompany the stars.
laying on the table and still feeling him thrusting in and out of you until he finishes, the celestial beings sing. you aren't worse than them; perhaps you are a masterpiece in progress, and he is the only one who knows how to finish you.
when he fills you with his seed, god speaks to you in the form of a black bunny watching you from outside the hall.
you ask him something, but he escapes just as renjun comes out of you. “did you say something?”
“did he endow me with other things?” you ask, letting him help you dress.
when your eyes meet, you can see amusement and perhaps a reflection of yourself.
“like what?”
perhaps god had made you for something more.
to create.
…
as the night sounds faded as night fell, jisung was more awake than ever.
he did not need much sleep, and the cooing of nocturnal animals accompanied him on lonely nights where he devoured entire books. the library was a confidant of his midnight encounters, hidden in the shadows, the darkness welcomed him and rocked him in its arms while his eyes flew through volumes and volumes, 'til the written words became his.
that night he felt the need to dream. so he left the tower and went to his room, the curtains were drawn, the window was closed tightly. living at the highest point of the tower gave him amazing views by night, and when he closed his eyes for a few seconds, pairs of stars emerged from the darkness.
not long time faded when he felt he was no longer alone, but observed. he heard something crawling out from under his bed. and waited. the closet opened by grinding the rusty hinges, and the curtains drawn from outside. and he waited.
a pair of hands went up his legs to under his shirt, and when they put pressure on his skin for his attention, he had no choice but to close the book. “violent pleasures end in violence and have in their triumph their own death, just as fire and gunpowder are consumed in a voracious kiss,” he recites, causing laughter like the wind coming through a half-closed window. stealthy. agile.
from the shadows, a cut-off silhouette appears. her figure, small and fragile. lethal, deadly. her eyes are two luminescent orbs, flicking fleetingly. the ghost of hands on his chest ceases when he stands and his feet touch the ground, sitting, but it remains behind him, hidden. “don't turn on the light.” he asks, and his wishes are fulfilled.
the moonlight bathes the silhouettes, and jisung can imagine their red bows in their hair as they groom each other, their soft skins, and their faces gorgeous in the sunlight. as one of them kneels in front of him and works on the buckle of his pants, he caresses her cheek, for she's not to blame for the moon curse on them. two glowing orbs like two spheres encapsulating moonlight see him from below.
even in the night, jisung still finds his creations beautiful.
but he can't help but imagine. that they are other lips. that is another figure. not so expert with her tongue that runs his entire length and buries it to the bottom of her throat. that her nails do not scratch him but caress him delicately. that there are no other hands joining the hunt but just a couple, shy, that travel before their eyes do.
he chokes a hiss when he feels her teeth rub against the sensitive skin of his tip as she wraps her mouth around it and sucks. “gentle, kitten,” he urges, but it's something she doesn't know. something that has not been learned. she can't be gentle with him because she comes from shadows, from the darkest part of the moon, the sinister part he hides in his mind, fused with voracious desire unable to be satiated.
built of the same volatile matter as stars, the only thing she knows how to do is destroy you while you crave her to do it, and the only way to show love is with violence. and so jisung calls her name, but sounds bitter on his tongue. no, not kitten. another one. the one that echoes to the sound of her head bobbing on his erect penis. the one that beat at the rhythm of his heart behind his ears when he lolls his head back and lets himself go.
other hands caress his shoulders before her mouth presses against his neck. and he allows her to be violent, because they will not harm him. they love him. they adore him. they love to please him, at all times. look for books for him, fill him with compliments, let him take away his frustration in them, leave him ecstatic and stunned after having taken all his essence. how could he hate them? he had never felt that kind of worship before.
he has never been lonely, and his wishes were heard. and in spite of that, he still feel a bitter aftertaste, because, for a moment, he wants, no, he craves to worship instead of being worshipped. destroy instead of being destroyed.
this is probably the most pathetic thing he's ever done in his life. chenle is convinced that he's never studied anything in his life, and here he is, in a study group, trying to sound as smart as everyone else. maybe that way he can show off how much he knows, maybe that way you'll want to ask him something. either way, it's irrelevant because you’re not asking him anything. you're completely absorbed in your book and his little trick has backfired; everyone wants to know his opinion on the subject being studied except you, sitting just inches away from him, on the other side of the table, without even looking at him.
it was a bad idea, you should have paid more attention to your notes... if you had remembered to take notes. now all you can do is ask for help from the last person you'd want to ask for help. it's not that you dislike haechan, but you've heard he's a bit arrogant and sarcastic; you don't want him to turn your silly questions into the laughing stock of the class until you graduate. in reality, you're afraid for yourself. you get a terrible and unexpected surprise when you see that he hasn't said a word during the entire study session, let alone made fun of you; he answers all your questions until you're sure you understand. how strange, you might even think he's nervous, but you must be misreading him.
mark lee is a bit absent-minded, and you know it for a fact. every time you have class with him, the teacher keeps asking him to pay attention to the blackboard. maybe he gets distracted very easily, or maybe he finds some subjects boring. you can't help but feel a little offended, since he only does this in your favorite classes, where you raise your hand and sometimes give your opinion on the topic. he hasn't been trying lately, and you're starting to get annoyed that the teacher always has to interrupt what he's saying to call his name. finally, you decide to turn around and see how important whatever it is that's distracting him must be, but when you do, your eyes meet his, and he looks at you. he just looks at you.
jeno doesn't think he's ever picked up a book in his life, but he's joined a book club. he still doesn't like reading, by the way, but he admits that he likes other things. for example, he likes bringing you coffee, he likes saving you a seat, he likes hearing you talk about your favorite book... even though you have a different one every day; he can't believe you finish thick volumes in a day. he likes to accompany you to the bookstore and he especially likes it when everyone else declines a session at the last minute, because then the world shrinks down to just the two of you, sitting on a sofa, with him pretending to read and you using his shoulder to get comfortable, making his heart race a little, making you laugh softly.
renjun, the boy you're mentoring, doesn't seem to need your help at all. but just to confirm, you decide to play dumb and give him a complex quiz. ha! he thought he could fool you. what bet did he make that he has to do this? or maybe he wants someone to study with, in which case he could have asked you. you might have refused, but why would he pretend he needs tutoring when he's clearly smarter than you? playing a joke or wanting to be friends with the one everyone excludes, without knowing that you do it deliberately and on purpose. maybe you're not as smart as you think you are, because if you were, you would know right away what his eyes are trying to tell you.
jisung will soon lose his mind if you keep getting closer to see his notes… he would lose his mind with anything you do at this point, though. it's not like he's smarter than you; he doubts that quite a bit. you're the brightest person he's ever met. you agreed to help him with his notes, but that means you want to see his notebook all the time to make sure he's doing well. he really, really appreciates it, but he's starting to think it was a bad idea. he could do something stupid and then he'd look like an idiot in front of you and then he would lose his mind. he doesn't know which is worse anymore. he's about to lose it, he's even started sweating, until he looks at you watching him before you laugh again, implying that you've been doing it on purpose and that you know you make him nervous, because he likes you.
debate classes have started to annoy you. mentally preparing yourself and trying to stay calm are your mantra every time you have to face him. jaemin na. always smart, always a genius, always calm. it irritates you greatly how little you provoke him because he provokes you. you regret wanting to be the best at everything; you wouldn't mind being second best if he weren't so insufferable about it. he rubs it in your face every chance he gets, and then comes up with a smirk and tries to shake your hand as if he hadn't just infuriated you. you admit that you might not even know his name if he weren't in first place, but you also suspect that he knows it too.
i’m begging u to never stop writing ur nct imagines😭😭🥹🥹 nothing could compare. in the future i hope u continue to keep writing and i hope ull make more of chenle!! 💞💞
ty 🥺 i don't know if you like smut pieces, but you can check this tag
