you’re just minding your own business when suddenly you’re being chased by a weird looking man. you turn down a dark alley to try and hide when you ran into someone; mark lee from your high school.
son of hades mark x daughter of Demeter reader
Demigod au / Percy Jackson au
Words : 5.4k
06.30 @strrykais
every weekday after 6:30am mark lee watches you take over his spotify account. it’s probably his favorite part of his very long days.
Smau
Labyrinthine @prodbymaui
You don't crumble at any man's words, but Mark Lee— God, Mark Lee.
Words : 1k+
Smut / mdni
Lucky
princess of isle caliriel, you naturally become best friends with the neighboring prince , mark lee of eloweth. always together and hardly ever apart , however, a marriage proposal from another isle looms over your head. mark feels himself spiral as he tries to support you , but even you feel indifferent to the proposal , why is that?
prince ! mark lee x princess ! reader
Words : 46.9k
Baby , i’m a rockstar @vnti-vnxiety-recs
After your boyfriend breaks up with you to focus on his music career, you devise a scheme to get back at him by attending his band’s open auditions. To both your surprises, you end up joining the band. It would be foolish not to seize this opportunity for some well-deserved revenge.
Words : 12k
Smut / mdni
The best man @mrkis
meeting the one for you at your best friend's wedding wasn't exactly how you imagined this day turning out, neither was fucking him in the bathroom of the venue.
Words : 6.5k
Smut / mdni
Craving you like the devil craves heaven @sluttyten
you’re a succubus (a female demon that seduces men to death) and you task yourself with seducing someone difficult. enter mark lee, a priest with a vow of celibacy that he’s already struggling with. you think you’ll have some fun.
Words : 8,622
Smut / mdni
Closed doors @starryhyuck
when your brother asks if a friend can stay in your spare bedroom, you don’t expect mark lee to show up on your doorstep.
Words : 5k
Smut /mdni
Personal fav !
How to get the girl @neocitylights
In the heart of New York City, Mark Lee leads a dual life: one as Spider-Man, the beloved Queens’ friendly vigilante, and other as just Mark, the awkward physics student that’s been harboring a crush on you for a ridiculously long time. As Mark tackles his latest mission—make your clueless self finally notice him—Spider-Man crosses path with Moonlight, a fresh-faced vigilante that sparkles his curiosity. Between rooftop encounters and failed flirting attempts, Mark finds himself juggling criminals, feelings and an ever-growing list of advice from his best-friend. After all, it’s about time for him to finally learn how to get the girl.
Words: 15k
Breeze @neochan
whatever was in the air, it left mark desperate, and you were the only one close enough to help
study buddy!mark x afab!reader
Words : 2.6k
Smut / mdni
Spiderm-mwah @k-oimani1
mark cant stop yapping about spiderman and you cant stop kissing him. (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)
Personal fav !
Back to friends @leejenowrld
after years of crossing lines and pretending you’re just friends, one reckless night destroys every boundary between you and mark. you fuck like you’re starving—filthy, desperate, angry—never able to stop wanting him, no matter how much it ruins you. now, tangled in a mess of jealousy, heartbreak, and possessive sex, you both spiral through hookups, fights, and raw confessions, knowing the truth is the one thing that could end you. this is a story about the addictive, ruinous pull between best friends who can’t stop breaking each other open, and the fear that you’ll never be able to go back to the way things were.
Words : 21k
Smut/mdni
Backflips in a restaurant @ddorizrem
in which y/n, the trinket collecting fiend finds comfort in a boy singing on youtube and ends up face to face with him
Smau
Personal fav !
____
Huang Renjun
Woman @sincerelyneo
Renjun is selfish - he knows. He knows that he has no right to be jealous of Shotato, your dance partner, but he is. Because even though he broke up with you, you’re still his.
Words : 6.5k
Smut / mdni
runaway bride @https-lvesick
Just weeks before your wedding, doubts begin to creep in, and on the big day, you panic and make a break for it. Desperate and still in your bridal gown, you flag down a passing car driven by a friendly stranger. He offers to take you to safety, but what starts as a temporary stop turns into something much more. As you hide from the life you left behind, feelings grow, and the lovely stranger finds he doesn’t want you to leave.
words : 23k
Smut / mdni
New beginnings @hyuckles-chuckles
it’s your first day at camp half-blood after being found by a satyr in your science class. when the head of your new house is unavailable to give you a tour around the camp you get the next best thing; huang renjun.
son of athena!huang renjun x daughter of hephaestus!reader
Words : 5k
personal fav !
My best friend wants to be abducted by aliens @choerrypuffs
summers at camp half-blood are never dull—especially when there’s a cute boy at every corner.
son of athena!renjun x daughter of aphrodite!reader
words : 14.6k
I don’t want you to leave yet @haechani4ever
huang renjun x fem!reader
Words : 0.2k
En garde @alicanta77
you and renjun didn’t enjoy spending time together. any interaction the two of you had always led to a verbal competition, each of you desperately trying to beat and put down the other. and those encounters translated into your fencing. as much as you and renjun butted heads, he was the best fencer in the school and his help was invaluable. but soon it starts to get difficult to separate the sport from your relationship. let the battle begin.
fencer!renjun x reader
Words : 19.9k
I hate fruits @withlovemark
renjun, the fuckboy by association, couldn’t give less of a fuck about romantic relationships. he’s perfectly fine with being single. loves it actually. when he accidentally drops a box on your head and you wake up with amnesia, he’s forced to finally take care of a person other than his own self. what’s worse? you think he’s your boyfriend.
fake bf! renjun x best friend’s gf! reader
Words : 48k+
Smut / mdni
Acrylic dreams @renctlab
The things you stopped doing @maiochiruhanabiraaa
you stopped painting, stopped doing the things that made you light up. renjun doesn’t realize at first that he’s the reason why — until he finds your old sketchbook and sees what you never said.
Words : 3.1k
Forget me not @fullsunalicia
there’s a secret admirer leaving little notes in your locker. painted in every corner of the paper are forget-me-nots, and on your quest to find the secret admirer, you wonder if they know what the meaning behind these flowers is - and if they themselves mean it.
son of apollo!renjun x daughter of demeter!reader
Percy Jackson / demigod au
Private story ! @florihaei
the texts stopped, the silence stayed. but you still see renjun everywhere, every post, every late night thought, every version of who you used to be. and the worst part? he’s still watching too
ex best friendrenjun!xfemreader
Words : 2.9k
The ghost of you @mingoner
you get stuck patrolling hogsmeade on halloween night with your ex-boyfriend huang renjun, what happens when things go a little awry?
Hogwarts au
____
Lee Jeno
The lucky one @hyuckles-chuckles
you are told by mr d to find and bring a son of zeus to camp who has been under the radar for far too long. however when you find lee jeno, you don’t want to take him away from his life.
Words : 4.9k
son of zeus!lee jeno x daughter of athena!reader
Percy Jackson / demigod au
personal fav !
Rich purity @jenonctcity
Jeno often found that he had a lot of free time on his hands. Between going to his classes, studying, and going to the gym, he didn’t do much else apart from lounge around the apartment eating snacks. Not needing a part time job like his roommates because of his well-off parents, Jeno knew he had it easy, but it never got to his head, and he was always seen as the sweet, kind person he was. But this pact really threw his head into a spin. As he sat in class thinking about it, a lightbulb went off in his head as he saw you struggling with the work in the front of the class. You suddenly found yourself in a deal that threw your life into a spin. If you took Jeno’s virginity, he would give you tutoring for the rest of the semester. It was the deal of a lifetime to you, a handsome boy offering you sex and tutoring. But when you don’t end up sticking to the one-time sex thing, can you keep things strictly studying and sex with no feelings?
Words : 11.5k
Smut / mdni
The tale older than mine @fullsunalicia
the gods still can‘t keep their pesky hands to themselves, and thus still meddle with mortal lives thousands of years later. it‘s 2020, and y/n would love to fix her sleep schedule, if it weren‘t for those annoying visions of the man in the darkness.
son of erebus!jeno x daughter of aphrodite!reader
The dumbing down of love @luvdsc
the six times you caught him staring at you, and the one time he caught you.
↳ alternatively: dumb and dumber fall in love.
Words : 12.3k
Class crush ! @kiszjuli
in which your shy and reserved TA from your literature class started acting a little different. harboring a crush on you for months, he finally gets the courage to confess to you…on valentine’s day.
TA!jeno x fem!reader
Words : 2k
Fatherhood @featjunranghae
when jeno's girlfriend left him to deal with fatherhood alone. he decided he'd never let anyone in his or his daughter's life. that was until he met you. his neighbour whom his daughter seemed to love way too much
i suddenly realize my archnemesis is hot (during a battle to the death). @choerrypuffs
summers at camp half-blood are never dull—especially when there’s a cute boy at every corner.
son of ares!jeno x daughter of nike!reader
Words : 22.5k
Crush diaries @stuckonmark
you were a growing youtuber that posts interesting content about your life. you remember a trend that was blowing up a few years back, but you had always been too nervous to do it. it was the viral “sending a quiz to every boy i’ve had a crush on.” you honestly weren’t expecting to hear back from anyone, but you thought it was worth a shot. what happens when you actually do hear back from all of your crushes? what happens when fans try and figure out who all the anonymous crushes are? but most importantly, what happens when one of your crushes, who is now a famous kpop idol, reaches out to you after so many years?
idol!jeno x youtuber!reader
Smau
Protector @blue-jisungs
jeno knew you shouldn't have came to his boxing fight...
Words : 4.3k
Room(hate) @jaeminvore
all you wanted was sleep after your long shifts at the hospital. All you needed was sleep after your long shifts at the hospital, but even that was considered a luxury in these trying times. A luxury blatantly stolen by your roommate, Jeno Lee, who seemed to have an endless line of bodies to fuck preventing you from getting at least an hour shut eye. It was annoying. It was disrupting and you seriously hoped that Jeno's dick falls off one day.
Words : 18.3k
Smut / mdni
Slut! @sincerelyneo
Jeno’s always been yours. You were the one too scared to be his, actually. But not anymore. Not tonight. Not now that you’ve decided being called a slut might be worth it, so long as it means they know he’s yours.
idol!jeno x fem!reader
Words : 3.5k
Smut / mdni
Call me when you hate me less @jaylaxies
Jeno Lee was a walking academic hazard—hot, broody, and failing just about everything that wasn’t football. Enter you, his new tutor: organized, overachieving, and absolutely not here for his attitude or his annoyingly perfect jawline. But between late-night study sessions, petty insults, and one very inconvenient almost-kiss, things start spiraling—fast. He’s supposed to be you project. You are supposed to hate him. Instead, you both are one sarcastic comment away from either a breakdown or a makeout—and honestly, it could go either way
lee jeno x fem!reader
Words : 18.3k
Smut / mdni
____
Lee Haechan
Lemonade @neochan
after meeting your brothers bestfriends, you become attached to one in particular, even inviting him to your room the night he stays over.
Words : 5.3k
Smut / mdni
Personal fav !
…I was so miserable? @ilovedinodino
Haechan was in love with a girl from his dance studio, but one day he accidentally found her Twitter account with her terrible secrets
or how Haechan found out that his crush suffers from depression and anxiety and he's trying to hide it.
nonidol!haechan x f!reader
Smau
Heart can’t lose @najaemism
fourth year pre-med student and neo university student council president, haechan lee does not have the time for relationships. instead, he focuses his attention on his studies and extracurriculars, so as not to disappoint his parents. that is until hera seo came along—and everyone starts to wonder if the university’s golden boy would finally let his heart lose.
lee haechan x fem!oc
Smau
AITA for setting my cheating ex's car on fire? (and then falling for his cousin) @choerrypuffs
revenge is best served cold―or on fire. literally.
Words : 8.6k
Personal fav !
And now us @haechanhues
your best friend's best friend offers his services as you keep complaining about your lack of… sexual gratification.
frenemy! haechan x fem! reader
Mdni
Will you film my s*x tape ? @sweetiechenle
you and your best friend haechan are strapped for cash and desperate to make some... quick. thank god he has the best idea ever to make a sex tape!
non-idol!collegestudent!haechan x collegestudent!afab!reader
Smut / mdni
Target aquired! @winwintea
as part of your next mission, you've been tasked to 'capture' an infamous demon, lee donghyuck who's been causing mischeif on the mortal realm. this won't be easy.
demon!lee donghyuck x angel!reader
Words : 2.6k
I become attracted to seaweed @choerrypuffs
summers at camp half-blood are never dull—especially when there’s a cute boy at every corner.
son of poseidon!donghyuck x daughter of athena!reader
Words : 18k
Swords and arrows @hyuckles-chuckles
you and lee haechan have never gotten along, you being a daughter of ares and being the son of apollo. despite that, you still develop a crush on him…and you may think he’s developed one on you.
son of apollo!lee haechan x daughter of ares!reader
Words : 5k
The breakup ritual @justalildumpling
it was supposed to be closure. a breakup ritual. just a silly little tweet about your love for a failed hinge match. but instead of cursing your ex, it summoned him—and somehow you keep finding yourself (on your knees) in the backseat of his car.
haechan x fem!reader
Smau
Hostile work environment @midasriku
with student loans and his apartment rent due, psychology major haechan swears he’ll get a job at the record store despite never having worked a day in his life. what happens when he creeps out his workplace mentor, first day on the job? and what happens when she kinda finds him funny?
haechan x fem!reader
Smau
Milady @ickelwoong
after a drunk haechan is called an uber by y/n on their first meet, he does something that can never be reversed. he's seemed to completely forgotten the events of that night but when the two meet through chenle, haechan wonders why y/n - who he thinks he's never met before - is acting so weird towards him?
haechan x fem!reader
Smau
Bad idea right ? @remtrack
lee donghyuck — or rather, haechan, talks a big game. much bigger than he can actually bite. upon being asked to bring his imaginary girlfriend to the 127 summer bash, he has no choice but to ask for help from the only girl he knows — you, his high school ex-girlfriend.
haechan x fem!reader.
Smau
Summer sun @82sim
when you start your summer job at an ice cream shop, your new co-worker isn’t exactly what you expected.
(haechan x fem!reader )
Smau oneshot
Jingle bells @hyuckiefluff
you send a spicy photo to the wrong lee and suddenly your brother's best friend is at your door with mulled wine and a space heater talking about "keeping you warm"
brother's best friend!haechan x fem. reader
Words : 7k
Smut / mdni
She thinks I can milk @hnykiss
celebrity!lee donghyuck x farmgirl!reader
Smau
Personal fav !
Haechan twink chronicle @susicheng
Smau one shot
Personal fav !
____
Na Jaemin
On the way home @dreamzenniee
A minor car accident reminds you that sometimes, home isn’t a place—it’s the person waiting for you.
Words : 600+
Go go juice @sincerelyneo
A week ago, you never imagined you’d be here—sitting in a random bar on a Tuesday night. But a week ago, you didn’t know your boyfriend was cheating. A week ago, you weren’t single. A week ago, you had no reason to be ordering your sixth drink—or to be drunk dialing your best friend’s brother.
jaemin x fem!reader
Words : 7.1k
Smut / mdni
Captain sparkle fingers revives me from the dead @choerrypuffs
summers at camp half-blood are never dull—especially when there’s a cute boy at every corner.
son of apollo!jaemin x daughter of hades!reader
Words 13.2k
Quest for romance @hyuckles-chuckles
you and na jaemin have been friends since the very first day you arrived at camp. but with him being a son of aphrodite he’s obviously one of the best looking people at camp and you develop a crush on him, but little did you know he also had a crush on you.
son of aphrodite!na jaemin x daughter of hephaestus!reader
Words : 4.9k
Team spirit @vnti-vnxiety
Clingy boyfriend Jaemin joins the cheer team to get closer to his girlfriend. You aren’t happy because you know he only joined to fuck you. He swears he didn't join for that reason (he did)
Jaemin x cheerleader! Reader
Words : 8.5k
Smut / mdni
Brat @iceonneo
the sexual tension has gotten frustrating enough, high time they do something about it. and yes they were roommates!
jaemin x fem! reader
Words : 1.6k
Smut / mdni
Teddy bear @jungaji
struggling with recurring nightmares, jeno suggests an app called "teddy bear," a sleep bot designed to offer comfort. over the course of a few nights, the bot’s messages start to feel increasingly familiar and seem to echo the warmth and understanding of someone who knows you deeply. as you connect with the bot, you uncover a touching secret that ultimately helps you find the peace you've been searching for.
na jaemin x gn!reader feat. lee jeno & lee donghyuck
Smau
Personal fav !
Backseat chronicles @notnctu
There is no reasonable explanation as to why or how you always end up in the backseat of Na Jaemin’s beloved car. Almost routinely, he picks you up around ten in the evening with the stereo blasting the raunchiest lyrics for your entire suburban neighborhood to hear. The entire night remains purely friendly, a dabble of flirtatious comments because well, it’s Jaemin for fuck sakes. But all it takes is one suggestive gaze from his dark, lustful eyes and a drop in his voice that rumbles your core to have you climbing over the seats to get to the back.
fem!reader, streetracer!jaemin
Words : 8.5k
Smut / mdni
Diet Pepsi @sincerelyneo
Jeno has one rule — his little sister is not allowed at street races. Jaemin knows this, and still, he can’t help but feel a thrill when he spots you sneaking out to watch him race. That is, until he sees you with another guy, and suddenly, he’s all in favor of Jeno’s rule. And he’s pretty sure that rule also means he should intervene and give you a ride home.
jaemin x virgin fem!reader
Words : 5.6k
Smut / mdni
Slytherin jaemin @jenosbliss
fem! ravenclaw reader x slytherin jaemin
Words : 1.2k
Enemies to lover au
____
Zhong Chenle
Stop posting about BALLER @winwintea
chenle loves basketball more than you. unfortunately.
boyfriend!zhong chenle x reader
Words : 1.3k
Out of time @johnnysuhbmarine
You'd be lying if you said feelings weren't caught within the thirteen years of friendship you had with Chenle, but even when you both wanted to be more, you agreed to shut any idea of it down - his future marriage was already arranged as part of a business deal, there was no point setting your hearts up for breaking. So, why is he on your doorstep begging for a chance just three months before he has to go back to China?
Words : 16.3k
Loaded @featjunranghae
in which a desperate joke about needing a sugar daddy accidentally manifests a millionaire classmate who takes his new role very seriously.
Smau
Playing dirty @hyuckiefluff
you’re tired of chenle ditching you for basketball practice, so you do what any rational girlfriend would do—show up to his practice in a slutty version of his team’s uniform. turns out you’re kind of good at basketball. turns out chenle can’t handle watching his teammates ogle the love of his life. turns out the locker room has a lock for a reason.
basketball captain! chenle x fashion major! fem.reader
Words : 4k
Smut / mdni
Training wheels @sincerelyneo
When your jerk of a boyfriend dumps you for being a virgin, the last thing you expected was to find comfort in your roommate, Chenle. But here you are, and now you're asking him to take your virginity…
chenle x fem!reade
Words : 4.9k
Smut / mdni
Once bitten , twice shy @onmyneo
… in which yn asks chenle to be her boyfriend for the night
best friend!chenle x fem!reader
Smau
When did you get hot ? @sincerelyneo
Your best friend’s kid brother is getting married—and his best man just so happens to be ridiculously sexy. Wait. Hold on. Is that Zhong Chenle? When the hell did he get hot?
chenle x fem!reader
Words : 7.3k
Smut / mdni
aita for hooking up with a random man i met at the club while i was in a fight with my boyfriend? @pinkynana
Your boyfriend always told you that he hated girls at the club, saying that they were easier than prostitutes and such. Which drove you to the decision to go to a club after your hundredth fight with him, just to provoke him. It was never your intention to be in another man’s arms that night.
Words : 1.7k
Smut / mdni
Business proposal @bbina
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.
Smau
My first and last @withlovemark
zhong chenle, the lowkey fuckboy, captain of the basketball team, doesn’t believe in romance. flowers? chocolates? handwritten letters? ew. too cheesy. but he can’t seem to shake this crazy girl off of him so he goes to you, his best friend, cheerleading captain, for help. will you be his fake girlfriend? sure. the catch? it has to be believable so for the first time in his life he buys the flowers and the chocolate and writes the handwritten letters.
bff! chenle x fake gf! reader
Words : 31k
Smut / mdni
Personal fav !
The only one @hyuckles-chuckles
being the only child of the big 3 was always tough for zhong chenle, so you, being his best friend, was always there to comfort him. but then one day out of the blue, he just started ignoring you, and you would like to know why.
son of poseidon!zhong chenle x daughter of demeter!reader
Words : 5.1k
____
Park Jisung
Stolen moments @maunologue
he thought bringing his girlfriend to practice meant more time with her, until his members stole the spotlight.
park jisung x female reader
Words : 894
Obsession @winnietheboos
park jisung is the nation’s (secret) newest boxing obsession. hushed whispers, feared stares and his forgotten bloodied bandages left in the ring after every match. you're the girl living in the apartment next door because you can barely afford anything better while finishing your degree, and you can't help but notice the boy who comes home bloody and bruised every night. so what do you do? you follow him.
Words : 16.9k
Kiss it away @maunologue
a drunk and clingy jisung is brought home after their tour celebration, leaving his girlfriend to soothe him, clean up his mess, and kiss it all away.
park jisung x female reader
Words : 731
Tangerine love (favorite) @neocitycafe
You like tangerines. Jisung likes you. Someone is hiding citrus fruit in your apartment.
Finals are brutal. Winter is cold. And you’re not ready to admit that you already know who it is.
Words : 1.5k
7 minutes in heaven @heyjwi
you decided to attend your campus’ halloween party in hopes of seeing your crush, jisung. one thing leads to another and you both end up sweaty and breathless, locked in a closet..
crush!jisung x fem!reader
Smut / mdni
Haunt me , baby ! @ukiyoexo
when you see a ghost, you’re supposed to be scared right? yeah, that’s what jisung thought too until he met you.
a night spent in boredom leads you to lighting random candles and attempting to summon a ghost. you never expected it to work — or for the spirit to be so cute.
Words : 5,2+
Personal fav !
Dragon heart @kacchand-archive
there’s a certain charm to things people say when drunk, and when you said you wanted to be the ultimate dragon enchantress of all lands, you never thought it would come true. but with the help of a little magic, and a lot of uncontrollable teenage emotions, anything can happen.
and in this case, even dragons can come to life out of nothing. you just hope you don’t get expelled when Dumbledore finds it hidden in the forbidden forrest.
or the story in which Jisung and his overpowering feelings for you create an all new drunken mistake; one that breathes fire.
Hogwarts / Harry Potter au
Words : 4.5k
Travel buddies @hyuckles-chuckles
you were minding your own business when you heard a disturbance not that far from you, so you investigate it. you learn that you found a new demigod, park jisung, so in the moment you decide to take him to camp in the tiny car your mom got for you for emergencies, the only problem was is that camp was 840 miles away.
son of hermes!park jisung x daughter of aphrodite!reader
Demigods / Percy Jackson au
Words : 5.2k
Personal fav !
My Minecraft boyfriend @suhnandmoon
a joke tweet about your boyfriend on minecraft from when you were in middle school ends up reaching the boy in question and oh no- he's hot.. this sudden reunion with park jisung was completely unexpected for multiple parties. will this old romance rekindle, or was it just meant to stay in the past?
park jisung x fem!reader
Smau
Two dumb virgins @luvyeni
you wanted to lose it . he was tired of being made fun by his friends. both of you thinking he’d pull out fast enough… but what can you expect from two stupid virgins ? …
𝒑. bf!dream × 𝒇.reader | 𝒈. smut | 𝒄. just smut... the title is actually pretty self explanatory :3 ﹕ bookshelf
⸝⸝ notes. idk since when i have this ready, sitting prettily in my drafts... but here it is, finally! hope you guys like it 🤭🤭
﹙ぉ﹚mark.
PORN⎯ it became your guilty pleasure together after that one unforgettable moment. the day you walked in on him — flushed, panting, and achingly hard — his embarrassment was palpable. when he stammered out that he was watching to learn new ways to please you, your heart raced. from that night, it became your shared ritual. now, his hands roam your body as you both watch, whispering filthy promises of what he’ll do to you next.
PRAISE⎯ he lives for your praise, craving every soft-spoken word of admiration. whether it’s a simple “you did so well” or a breathless “you feel so good,” it makes his heart race. his pout is irresistible when your praise doesn’t come quickly enough — he’ll whine, tugging at your attention until you relent. and when it’s his turn, he overwhelms you with devotion: beautiful, perfect, mine. he wants every inch of you to know how loved you are.
THIGH RIDING⎯ he notices how your eyes linger on his thighs — how you bite your lip when he wears those tiny, dangerous shorts with nothing underneath. it’s a game now. he spreads his legs wide, lounging like temptation incarnate until you lose control. once you’ve climbed onto his lap, grinding against him, he’s hooked — loving every desperate gasp as you chase your high, his hands gripping your hips while he watches his pretty girl come undone on his thighs.
RECORDING⎯ it started with voice memos and teasing photos while he was away. you couldn’t resist sending a clip of yourself trembling with pleasure, calling out his name. when he came home, you barely had time to speak before his hands were all over you. “can i record you?” he whispered hoarsely, his phone already out. you agreed, imagining how many times he’d lose himself watching later. now, it’s a shared addiction — capturing every moan, every arch, every filthy moment of you being his.
SPIT KINK⎯ his eyes darken when he tells you, “open up, baby.” but it’s not just the act — it’s what it reveals. when his spit lingers on your lips, untouched, he knows you’re wrecked and raw for him. when you swallow too quickly, he takes it as a challenge. “not done yet,” he growls, determined to break you until there’s no trace of control left — only need, desire, and surrender.
﹙ぉ﹚renjun.
FACE SITTING⎯ he lives for the weight of you, the warmth and wetness of your pussy smothering his face. nothing compares to the feeling of your thighs trembling against his cheeks, your scent filling his lungs as he devours you. and when you hover, hesitant, he growls in frustration. “sit,” he demands, pulling you down with strong hands. “don’t hold back. ride me like you mean it.” the pleasure of being used by you leaves him drunk with desire.
BREAST PLAY⎯ your breasts are his sanctuary — soft, perfect, utterly addictive. he could spend hours touching, squeezing, and tasting. but when you tease him — dragging your breasts over the sensitive tip of his cock — it drives him to madness. his resolve crumbles as he cums hard and fast, groaning your name while his release paints your skin. the sight of you covered in him? pure heaven.
THIGH JOB⎯ when the need overtakes him, he doesn’t wait. you could be cooking or working — it doesn’t matter. he slips between your thighs, cock slick with precum as he thrusts desperately. “don’t move,” he murmurs, eyes half-lidded, gripping your hips. the squeeze of your thighs, the soft praise you whisper into his ear, your fingers running through his hair — it all pushes him to the edge. he cums hard, trembling as your words echo in his mind: “my good boy.”
CUM PLAY⎯ despite his usual preference for clean, controlled passion, the sight of his cum mixed with your sweat-covered skin awakens something primal. he smears it across your chest, your stomach — his breath hitching as he admires his handiwork. sometimes, he captures the moment with a discreet photo, though he’ll never admit how much he treasures them. tasting you both, however? that’s no secret.
MUTUAL MASTURBATION⎯ it’s a shared race to the finish line. his fingers pump inside you, matching the rhythm of your hand wrapped around him. the room fills with ragged moans, the heat between you spiraling out of control. the thrill of cumming together — trembling, overstimulated, desperate — is intoxicating. he’ll keep going until you’re both wrecked, craving every last second of shared ecstasy.
﹙ぉ﹚jeno.
SIZE KINK⎯ the contrast between his sheer strength and your smaller frame drives him wild. nothing makes his cock harder than the sight of you fitting so perfectly in his arms, so easy to toss around. he loves keeping you perched on his lap — whether you’re simply relaxing or grinding against him for relief. but his favorite is standing sex. lifting you effortlessly, holding you up as he pounds into you, flexing just to feel the way your body melts, dripping with want.
BELLY BULGE KINK⎯ every inch of him stretches you to your limit. no matter how often you’ve taken him, you always need time to adjust. his large hands tease and prepare you with agonizing patience — long fingers stroking your insides, his tongue working you open until you’re shaking. and then, finally, he slides inside, filling you so deeply that the bulge in your tummy becomes his undoing. the sight of it makes his eyes darken and his hips snap harder, spilling deep inside with each thrust.
MORNING SEX⎯ he lives for waking up to you. the heat of your body wrapped around him, the way your lips close around his cock — it’s his idea of heaven. sleepy hands grip your hips as you ride him, your warmth pulling him into a blissful haze. mornings without your touch feel incomplete; he claims it’s the only way to guarantee a good day, and his slow, lazy thrusts show just how sweet he plans to make yours.
BREEDING KINK⎯ he daydreams of you pregnant far more than he’d admit. his eyes linger on your stomach during sex — not just because of the bulge from his cock but from imagining it round and full with his baby. every thrust is deliberate, a silent promise of filling you with more. and when you moan daddy, it’s over. his hips lose rhythm, his control snaps, and he’s fucking you with abandon, all purpose and no restraint.
OVERSTIMULATION⎯ he can’t stop. you’re so soft, so wet, so intoxicating that he keeps pushing, even after you’ve come. his fingers curl inside you, coaxing more pleasure from your trembling body. your cries make him harder, his breath ragged as he feels your walls flutter around him. when you coat his hand in your release, he’s a mess — groaning, needy, tasting you like a man possessed, determined to have every drop again and again.
﹙ぉ﹚haechan.
MARKING⎯ he wears your marks with pride, turning every mirror into a shrine of your love. hickeys, scratches, and bite marks — they all make his heart race. he traces each with a grin, and when they start to fade, he’s immediately begging for more. “claim me,” he whispers, desperate for your touch. nothing makes him happier than knowing he’s yours — his body, your canvas.
DEGRADING⎯ “you’re pathetic,” you sneer, and he shivers. he’s a slut — your slut — and he needs to be reminded. he loves the sting of your words, the humiliation of your hands slapping his face or his cock. when he’s whining for mercy, tears pricking his eyes, he’s in bliss. he doesn’t want you to be gentle. he wants you to use him, ruin him, leave him begging for more.
DIRTY TALK⎯ his tongue is wicked — sharp, teasing, utterly filthy. he knows how to make you melt with just a few words. before it starts, he whispers sweet nothings, luring you in. then comes the switch: vivid, lewd promises of what he’ll do — bouncing you on his cock until you’re babbling nonsense, stuffing your pretty mouth full while your cunt clenches around him. his hand snakes up your thigh, fingers pressing, pinching, pulling until your head falls back, his words turning into pure sin.
CUM PLAY⎯ he’s obsessed with the mess — your slick on his skin, his seed marking you from head to toe. when jealousy burns, it’s worse. he covers every inch of your body, smearing it into your skin, reminding himself — and you — who you belong to. he doesn’t need proof, but he craves it. “look at you,” he murmurs, voice dripping with possession, as his cum drips down your thighs.
FACE SITTING⎯ he’s addicted to your pussy. it doesn’t matter where, it doesn’t matter when — he needs you on his face. hovering is not an option. “don’t hold back,” he growls. “fucking sit.” he dives in like a man starved, tongue relentless, hands gripping your thighs as he pulls you down harder. your arousal coats his face, and he loves it. the wetter, the better. suffocate him. ruin him. just don’t dare deny him.
﹙ぉ﹚jaemin.
DOLLIFICATION⎯ he loves turning you into his perfect little doll. hands gentle but deliberate as he styles your hair, fastens delicate accessories, and selects the softest, most seductive lingerie. he even adds a touch of blush to your cheeks, taking his time to admire his work — a masterpiece of prettiness before the chaos. but by the end? you’re a beautiful mess. smeared lipstick stains his chest, mascara streaks your cheeks, and your innocence is completely ruined. that’s his favorite part: breaking his delicate doll after crafting her to perfection.
BREEDING KINK⎯ jaemin’s love for the idea of being a father isn’t just a fantasy — it’s an obsession. the moment you tossed the condoms and stopped the pills, it unlocked a new level of hunger in him. every thrust is purposeful, every orgasm focused on filling you with his seed. he watches with dark, hungry eyes as his cum drips from your swollen cunt, mesmerized as he pushes it back inside, determined to keep you full. “how will you get pregnant if it keeps slipping out, baby?” he groans, already fucking you again.
DUMBIFICATION⎯ the way you go blank for him — eyes glassy, mouth parted, words reduced to babbled nonsense — makes him smirk with pride. his cock turns you into a perfect, pliant mess, your mind too far gone to form thoughts. he murmurs depraved things, cooing softly as drool trickles from the corner of your mouth. “my sweet, dumb girl,” he praises, kissing you as you fall apart, fully lost in him.
MANHANDLING⎯ you’re too delicate to handle yourself — at least, that’s how jaemin sees it. shifting positions? not your job. that’s what he’s here for. he lifts, twists, and bends you exactly how he wants, effortlessly maneuvering your pliant body. you love it, and so does he. you’re his to move, to control, to mold — and he takes full advantage, whispering how weak and perfect you are as he fills you to the brim.
RECORDING⎯ a camera roll full of you, his greatest treasure. every arch of your back, every moan, every needy cry — he’s captured them all. each orgasm is immortalized, every sex tape carefully curated for his private viewing. he replays them when he’s away, hand gripping his cock, desperate to relive every moment. “smile for me, baby,” he grins, phone in hand, knowing exactly how pretty you look when you’re cumming just for him.
CORRUPTION KINK⎯ he’s the reason you know how to touch, how to kiss, how to suck — and he loves it. teaching you was the greatest thrill of his life, and the thought of corrupting you over and over again still makes his blood rush. “you don’t know how, do you?” he teases, eyes dark. “don’t worry, baby. i’ll teach you.”
﹙ぉ﹚chenle.
DADDY KINK⎯ the soft, breathy way you call him daddy wrecks him completely. the sweet innocence in your voice, the way you cling to him like he’s your last salvation — it feeds his ego and his darkest desires. he knows he’s the one ruining you, yet you say it like he’s your savior. and deep down, the idea of really being a father someday only makes it hotter.
BREEDING KINK⎯ chenle is determined to make you his — completely, irrevocably his. every time he fills you up, he dreams of the day you’ll carry his baby. he’s long since discarded the condoms, and you’ve caught him more than once browsing baby products online. when he’s fucking you, his mind is already decorating the nursery. “we’ll need another,” he murmurs, thrusting deeper. “one won’t be enough if they don’t look like you.”
DIRTY TALK⎯ the sound of your honeyed whispers — the filth you pour into his ear while your hands roam his body — it makes him dizzy. your need, your shameless craving for him, leaves him breathless. you cling to him, desperate and feral, telling him exactly what you want. his voice grows rough, words tumbling from his lips as he promises to ruin you, to give you everything.
DEGRADING⎯ you’re his princess — his perfect, precious girl. but sometimes, you push too far, teasing him until his control snaps. in those moments, you’re no longer his sweet love — you’re his slut. his to punish, to take, to wreck. “you’re mine,” he growls, voice sharp as his hand marks your skin.
EXHIBITIONISM⎯ possessiveness burns hot in his veins. your pretty moans are for his ears alone, your body belongs to his eyes only. but sometimes, proving that you’re his requires an audience. if someone watches, hears, knows exactly who owns you? he makes sure it’s unforgettable — pounding into you, marking you with every thrust, leaving no doubt in anyone’s mind.
﹙ぉ﹚jisung.
SIZE KINK⎯ he didn’t know how much it would turn him on until he saw the way his hands dwarf yours. you’re so small, so soft, and he’s so big. your tiny fingers barely wrap around his cock, your body stretches perfectly beneath him, and your mouth struggles to take him. it’s intoxicating — the contrast, the vulnerability, the way you whimper when he fills you to the hilt.
BELLY BULGE KINK⎯ “look at that,” he whispers, pride swelling as he presses his palm against the outline of his cock in your tummy. he pushes gently, relishing the way your body reacts, eyes rolling back as pressure intensifies the stretch. he drags it out, slow thrusts keeping you full as you beg for more, too wrecked to think of anything but how deeply he’s buried inside you.
ICE PLAY⎯ the moment ice touches your heated skin, your shiver sends a thrill straight to his core. you gasp, squirm, and cling to him, vulnerable and exposed, and he lives for it. the contrast between the cold and your warm body drives him wild — a game of sensation that leaves you trembling and begging for his touch.
DRY HUMPING⎯ he’s addicted to how desperate you get, grinding against him like you can’t help yourself. he watches, smirking, as you ride his thigh or rut against his lap, chasing pleasure even through layers of fabric. public places are his favorite — subtle thrusts, barely restrained moans, your panties damp as he whispers how pathetic and needy you are.
SEXTING⎯ the first time made him blush so hard he could barely breathe. now? he’s a master of it. teasing you through the phone, describing every filthy thing he wants to do, sending pictures that make you squirm. it’s become a game, a wicked build-up to the nights when you’re finally together, messy and breathless from all the waiting.
did you like the reading? why not like, reblog or leave a comment? this way i know i'm doing a good work and will keep up with it!
classical conditioning: a learning process where a neutral stimulus is associated with a stimulus that produces a natural response (think pavlov’s dog)
★ PAIRING: 00line+Mark x Reader
☆ WORD COUNT: 30k
★ GENRE(S): Smut, PWP, just vibes frfr
☆ SUMMARY: After spending Winter break with Jisung's family, you and Mark reignite a friendship that evolves into FWB. However, when the 00line discovers that you've been skipping out on time with them to be with Mark, they aren’t too pleased.
★ ☆ WARNINGS: Unprotected sex. creampie, riding, dry humping, cunnilingus, bdsm, leash, use of spreader bar, iceplay, orgasm denial, fingering, voyeurism, shower sex, blowjob, lip biting which causes minor injury, switch Haechan, guided masturbation, choking, slapping, rough/forceful sex, thigh riding, slight coercion, reader gets train ran on her, free use?, MDNI
☆★ NOTES: I’m trying something new where I link the sex position im talking about because i suck at describing them so i usually try to stay away from anything other than missionary and doggy but thats lame and i want to write interesting sex scenes so if your confused on what the hell I'm talking about during a scene just click the link for the photo lmaoooo. LCpt.1 Here ao3 Link (like here before you leave TT)
You pull the blanket tighter around you, trying to warm up. Your space heater is humming in the background hard at work, but it's still not enough to fully heat up the apartment. You've been complaining about the heating system for weeks, and now it seems to have finally broken down.
You scroll through your social media feed and see videos of your friends laughing with their families, enjoying the holiday season together. Honestly, it makes you smile. You're genuinely happy for them, even if it stirs a little longing in your heart. You had opted out of going home for the holidays, you didn’t have the best relationship with your family so you were more than content with staying home. You double-tap on each post when a notification pops up. It's Jisung, he was going home today and had been begging you to come over to help him pack.
You [2:31 pm]
Ji for the last time its too cold to go anywhere I finally got warm and Im not getting up again
Ji [2:32 pm]
come on!!!! I dont ask you for anything plus how many favors do you owe me??? >:(
With a sigh of frustration, you toss off the blankets. The cold air instantly bites at your skin. It was a lot chillier in your apartment than you realized.
You shiver as you layer up and put on your good boots, the thought of Jisung's warmer apartment lifting your spirits for the time being.
Outside, you have to be careful with your footing. You cautiously make your way to your car and drive to his dorm. When you arrive, you knock and as soon as he opens the door, you reach out and pinch his arm.
“Oww, oww, oww!” He yelps, rubbing at the spot you’d pinched.
“Do you know how cold it is out there?!” you exclaim pushing past him into the room.
You surveyed his dorm room, your gaze taking in the chaotic scene before you. There were mountains of discarded clothes scattered across the floor, seemingly the result of Jisungs carelessness as he rushed to pack. Carefully making your way through the haphazard landscape, you navigate your way toward his bed.
Jisung ignores your complaints, bustling around the room and shoving a few last-minute items into his suitcase. “Listen, I’m sorry! Can you just come sit on this for a sec?” he whines.
You huff but get up anyway. You plop down on his suitcase successfully compressing it while Jisung zips it closed. He fell back onto the floor with a satisfied sigh. You spend the next few minutes helping him straighten up before finally collapsing onto his warm bed. "So," you asked, settling back against the pillows, "is your family doing anything special for the holidays?"
“Yeah, my grandma rented a cabin for the family get-together,” he says, and suddenly looks at you in realization. “Wait, why are you still here? You’re not going home for the holidays?” He asks eyes wide in disbelief.
You shrug, the truth spilling out before you can stop it. “Nah, I don’t really get along with my parents.”
Jisung's expression shifts to concern. “Come home with me! You can’t stay by yourself over the holidays. It would be so much fun!”
You hesitate, considering his offer. You’ve always had a good relationship with Jisung’s family. They’ve welcomed you before, and his mom cooks like a dream. It feels tempting, but you worry about intruding.
“Are you sure it’s not too last minute?” you ask, biting your lip.
Jisung shakes his head vigorously, a determined look on his face. “My mom would kill me if she found out I let you spend the holidays alone. She always says her door is open for you, and I know she’d be so happy to see you. Plus, it’d make things way more fun!”
Maybe your winter break wouldn’t be so bad after all.
—
"You have reached the mailbox of…"
Ever since winter break, that’s all Haechan had been hearing. You’d been taking hours to respond to his texts, ignoring his and everyone's calls, and overall being pretty flaky. Whenever they pressed you an explanation, you just responded with half-hearted excuses.
I’m busy.
Sorry, can’t talk right now.
I’ll call you back later.
Finally after several failed attempts he managed to get you to come over under the pretext of a movie night with the guys. You were bundled up together under a heavy blanket, Haechan on one side and Jaemin on the other. The warmth of their bodies keeps away the night's chill. Haechan was working his hand up your thigh when your phone buzzed, casting a soft glow across your face. The smile that spread on your lips made his stomach twist with jealousy. You quickly typed something back and locked your phone before he could catch a glimpse of what had made you light up.
You let out a fake yawn, stretching your arms above your head. “Sorry, guys, I think I’ll have to call it a night.”
Before he could protest, you were already gathering your things. “You don’t want to stay for a little while longer. We’ve only got an hour left of the movie,” Jeno called from his spot on the couch, looking slightly disappointed.
“Sorry pup, I can’t,” you said, walking over to him and stealing a quick peck on his lips.
As you turned to leave, Haechan couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. When the door closes behind you he turns to his roommates. “She’s replacing us, isn’t she?” Haechan muttered.
“Dude, relax. It’s late she’s probably just tired,” Jeno replied, trying to be the logic that Haechan seemed to lack.
“Well, she could have slept over here! Nothing was stopping her before!” Haechan shot back.
“Would you two shut up? I’m trying to watch the movie!” Renjun snapped, glancing at them with irritation.
“And I’m trying to fuck, so I guess we’re both out of luck!” Haechan grumbled, throwing his head back against the couch.
Jaemin, who had been quietly huddled under the blanket, suddenly yanked it away from Haechan, seemingly unwilling to share any longer now that you were gone. “Jeno’s right, she’s probably just tired. Besides, how could she replace us?”
Haechan wanted to believe Jeno, to cling to the hope that you were telling the truth and were just too busy. But as the minutes passed and the movie flickered on, he couldn’t shake the gnawing feeling in his gut that something else was going on.
—
You were sitting at your vanity, doing your makeup when your phone buzzed with a notification. A smile crept onto your face as you read the message. Once you slipped on your heels by the door, you left your apartment and headed to join your friends waiting in the car.
“Where is he?” Mia asked curiously.
“He’s going to meet me there,” you replied, feeling your heart flutter in excitement at the thought of seeing him.
“I can’t believe you two are talking again!” Yuna cooed, her eyes wide with playful disbelief.
The car was filled with the sound of laughter and gossip as you caught up with your friends, sharing stories about what happened over winter break. You can't help but sing along to the music that plays in the car as your friends chatted excitedly about the night ahead. You belted out the lyrics to your favorite song, your voice a little off-key but you don’t care, you were tipsy and in a great mood. You felt a twinge of guilt for forcing the uber driver to listen to your terrible singing and the all-too-detailed gossip.
Once you arrive at the party, the bass of the music has your blood rushing with excitement. The living room was packed with people on the makeshift dance floor. You and the girls quickly made your way to the kitchen, where the clinking of glass and shouts of joy sound off into the night. You grabbed a couple of drinks and toasted to a night of fun.
It wasn’t long before your friends began to scatter, each one disappeared into the sea of bodies, eyes sparkling with trouble as they searched for their one-night stands. You didn’t mind, you hadn’t come to the party for them. Your heart was set on finding the one person you had been eagerly waiting to see all night. With a determined smile, you navigated through the crowded living room.
“Mark!” you called, spotting him talking with a few friends. As soon as he heard your voice, he looked up and broke into a smile. He quickly made his way over and engulfed you in a warm hug.
“You look so pretty, baby,” he said, eyes roaming over the dress you had picked out for the night.
You turn shy under his compliment. “Thank you,” you murmured, feeling a timid smile tugging at your lips.
Mark turned to his friends and excused himself, allowing you to drag him away. The house was dimly lit but you could still see how excruciatingly handsome he was under the flashing lights. You navigated through the mass of people until you reached the dance floor. His hands found your waist. He pulled you against him, your back pressed firmly against his chest before swaying your hips in time with the music.
His breath fanned against your neck as he leaned in. “Pretty girl…” he murmured, trailing hot kisses down your neck. “Want me to take you home?”
You catch his gaze as you look at him over your shoulder. His eyes are dark with desire and you can feel yourself growing wet already. You turned in his embrace until you were facing him, pressing your lips against his as you nodded eagerly. He grabbed your hand, leading you through the crowd, a wicked smile dancing on your face as you followed him.
Once outside, he pushed you up against his car, his lips claiming yours again. You hear the car beep as he fumbles with his keys to unlock it. Your hands tangled in his hair as he explored your body, fingers gliding up your thigh and pushing your dress dangerously high. You needed him now, you couldn’t wait. Glancing around to ensure the coast was clear, you pulled him into the backseat of the car, the tinted windows providing the perfect level of privacy.
Unbeknownst to you, another car had been watching you since they pulled up nearby. Renjun, Jeno, Haechan, and Jaemin were inside, their eyes locked onto the scene unfolding before them.
Renjun had given everyone a pep talk on the drive here about finding someone to hook up with to distract from thoughts of you. Renjun had put the car in park when he saw you stumbling across the street.
“Is that Jisung’s cousin?” Renjun asked, squinting at the sight before him.
“Where?” Haechan perked up, looking up from his phone.
“So that's where she’s been?” Jaemin questioned.
“No way, maybe they’re just friends,” Jeno said, but he quickly corrected himself. “Or not,” he muttered, watching as Mark pushed you against the car and kissed you passionately.
A humorless laugh escaped Haechan’s lips. “I fucking told you guys.” He says, eyes following the way your fingers tangle in Mark's hair.
They had intended to get out of the car, but now they found themselves watching in stunned silence as the vehicle rocked and the windows fogged up. They weren’t quite sure how long they sat there until you finally slid out of the backseat, pulling your dress down haphazardly. a stupid grin plastered itself on your face as you climbed into the passenger seat.
Jaemin knew that look. You were fucked out and it was driving him up a wall that he wasn’t the one who did it.
“Don’t let this discourage you,” Renjun chimed in, forcing the most upbeat tone he could manage. “We can still have fun, right guys?” But one glance around the car told him it wasn't the right moment for another pep talk.
They had finally realized why you had been acting strange and no one was in the mood to party.
Earlier, inside the car…
Mark was lost in a haze of desire, pushing your dress up past your hips. His warm hands setting your skin ablaze against the cool night air. You straddled his waist and grind against him, the rough fabric of his jeans provided a delicious friction that left you shuddering. His lips left bruises along your collarbone, and you tugged at his hair, bringing him closer for another heated kiss.
His lips were so soft, like plush clouds you could easily get lost in—they were absolutely perfect. You kissed him feverishly, your hands roaming over the skin beneath his shirt. Exploring the contours of his strong chest, your fingers trailed downward until they hovered at his waistband. You nipped at his bottom lip playfully before pulling away.
“Are you going to let me have it?” you asked sweetly, blinking up at him with pleading eyes.
“You deserve it, baby. Take it,” he breathed, his voice filled with urgency.
With a quick motion, you unzipped his pants and positioned yourself over him, tracing his tip through your folds, soaking him in your juices. Every brush against you sent shivers up your spine.
“That’s it, baby, just like that. It’s yours, go ahead,” he encouraged, his voice a low whisper.
You sank down onto him with a moan, feeling him fill you completely. He was deep and the sensation was everything you’d craved. You lost yourself in the rhythm, pulling him to kiss you again as you rode him. His hands grip your hips harshly as you take him. His breaths were choppy and his eyes fluttered, unable to stay open from the pleasure. You circle your hips fluidly, it was a trick that you knew drove haechan crazy, you wonder if it would work on mark?
HIs hips thrust up sharply and he groaned. He spread his thighs a little wider and tilted his head back. “Fuck,” he groaned, his breath hitching. “You feel so good.”
You were just getting started, you were going to drive him crazy. You slam your hips down hard, a sharp contrast of the precise movements a moment ago. You bounce on his cock roughly, grinding down hard when his hips meet yours. You leaned back on his knees for leverage and continued to ride him. His hands try to hold your hips still. He needed a moment, he didn't want to cum yet.
“Let go, baby, I got you,” you whispered, determined to push him to the brink.
He shook his head, desperation lacing his voice. “Not yet, I can’t.”
The next moment he's pulling you off of him. He was strong and despite your best efforts you couldn't stop him from switching your positions. He had pinned you down on your back, legs over his waist and lips pressed against yours. He needed a moment to catch his breath and he could tell from the look in your eyes you weren't going to give him one unless he took control.
“Be a good girl and do what I say,” he warned.
You nodded obediently. You would do whatever he wanted to get him back inside of you, you didn't care. “Keep those legs open,” he instructed, then finally pushed inside you.
You bite back a loud moan as he thrusts into you. His face was buried in your neck as he drove himself into you deeper and deeper. Your head was hitting the car door with each thrust but you were too far gone to care. You wrapped your legs tight around his waist and pulled him into you with each thrust. You were close and with a few more sharp thrusts you were spilling all over him and dripping down the leather seats of his car.
“Look at you, making such a mess,” Mark moaned, his grip tightening on your cheeks as he opened your mouth. “Dirty fucking girl,” he whispered before spitting into your mouth. His pointer and middle finger rest against your tongue as he makes sure you swallow it before hooking his fingers into your mouth. He fucks you like that, eyes glazed over as he watches you suck against his fingers
His hips grow erratic, the sight of you, saliva dripping down your face and pussy spasming around his cock in overstimulation pushed him over the edge. He came deep inside of you and watched the cum drip as he pulled out.
When you eventually slipped out of the car, a stupid smile plastered itself across your face. Clenching your legs tight, you tried to hold him inside as you settled into the passenger seat. Little did you know, four pairs of eyes were still watching from the distant shadows.
—
"So, where did you and Mark run off to last night?" Yuna asks, flanked by your other friends, Mia, Chenle, and Yang Yang, as you make your way to the library.
“A true lady never kisses and tells,” you respond, lifting your chin defiantly.
“Except you’re not a lady, you’re a whore,” Mia elbows you playfully. “Now spill! What’s going on with you and Mark? Last I checked, you ghosted him.”
“You guys are so nosy,” you roll your eyes.
“Stop acting like it’s not killing you to keep this a secret,” Chenle urges.
You huff, feigning annoyance. “Fine! Since you guys won’t stop hounding me…”
A chorus of cheers and laughter erupts from the group, and you can’t help but smile shyly.
“We started talking again over winter break, during Jisung’s family vacation.”
“Wait, he was there?” Chenle asks, surprised.
“Duh, idiot. It’s called a family vacation for a reason,” Yang Yang retorts, shoving Chenle lightly.
As the group grows increasingly chaotic, you near the library. “Alright, guys, I’ll tell you everything later, but for now, shoo! I’m meeting Mark at the library.”
A chorus of teasing “ooohs” rings out as you wave them away like pesky flies.
When you arrived with Jisung to spend the holidays with his family, you were completely surprised to see Mark roll in later that day. You hadn’t expected Mark to be there. You should have anticipated it, given that they’re cousins, but it totally slipped your mind. At first, it was awkward given the fact that you had ghosted him for seemingly no reason, and now here you were at his family vacation trying to make small talk.
You eventually hashed things out and grew closer. You spent the break catching up with Mark while hanging out with Jisung and his family. After the break, you had started hanging out alone more frequently. It felt like a spark reignited between you two.The tension in your hangouts grew, conversations became flirtatious, and lingering gazes turned heated, until one of those moments finally snapped. You and Mark tangled together, exploring each other desperately while he fucked you six ways to sunday. You had agreed to keep things casual, Mark had just gotten out of a relationship a few months ago and wasn’t ready to dive back in.
That’s what led you to your current situation.
It’s not that you wanted to flake on the guys; you just happened to be really into Mark right now. You used to be so down bad for him, and now that you finally had him in your clutches, you weren’t letting go anytime soon.
You're sitting at a table in the back of the library as you flip through the pages of your textbook. You burst into a fit of giggles at something Mark says. He was seated next to you, his own reading material disgarded as he leaned over your shoulder trying to help you study. The way he leans in, his warm breath grazing your ear as he explains the lesson, sends butterflies fluttering in your stomach.
Meanwhile, Haechan, sitting with Renjun at a nearby table, narrows his eyes as he spots you and Mark at the back of the library. “She can’t be serious,” Haechan mutters, incredulous.
Mark is unnecessarily close, his finger tracing a line in your textbook. You catch his eye and share a playful glance, and it makes your heart race. Haechan groans in annoyance at your obvious flirting. The way you're biting your lip and laughing at everything Mark says was aggravating. There's no way Mark was that funny!
“Shhh! Ms. Song already said if she has to kick us out again, we’re banned from the library,” Renjun interjects quietly, shooting Haechan a sharp look.
“Is she seriously ditching us for him? What’s so special about him, anyway?” Haechan grumbles, crossing his arms. Here he was, supposed to be studying, having begged Renjun to tutor him, only to be distracted by you.
“After what we saw last night, he’s probably some kind of sex god. I mean, did you see the look on her face when they got out of the car?!” Renjun says sarcastically. A smirk creeped onto his face, knowing the image he just painted is pushing all of Haechan’s buttons.
“I could do that! That should have been me!” Haechan waves his hands in mock frustration, his voice rising a little too high.
“Shhh!” Renjun hisses again, glancing around nervously to see if anyone is listening.
“Do you even care?” Haechan whispers furiously, his eyes wide with disbelief.
Renjun lets out a long, exasperated sigh, running a hand through his hair. “Yes, I care, but unlike you, I’m mature enough to let it go! Now please,” he says, placing a finger over his lips in a quieting gesture.
Haechan grumbles under his breath but sinks back into his chair, arms crossed stubbornly. However, his eyes remain glued to you and Mark. He’s acutely aware that the lines etched across his forehead are deepening, and he’s sure he’ll regret it later when wrinkles form, but right now, he can’t tear himself away from the sight of Mark’s hand dipping below the table slyly.
—
You stood on the porch, knocking on the door a little louder than necessary. The cold weather seeped into your bones, and you hoped someone would be home to let you in. You had called earlier, but no one had answered. Mark was sick, and your other friends were all busy with work or studies. Bored out of your mind, you were looking for some fun.
You knew they were likely angry with you, after all, you'd been ignoring them for most of the week. Despite that, you felt confident they'd relent and let you in once they got a look at what you had on. Under your coat you made sure to dress in the shortest silk shorts and a top that was all cleavage and no coverage. Although you were practically freezing outside, you figured it was worth it for the extra brownie points it might earn you.
As you knocked again, a messy-haired Jeno opened the door. His headphones hung from his neck, and a gaming controller was in his hand. He looked surprised to see you, and for a moment, he simply stared. You smiled sweetly and ushered yourself inside as he stood frozen, his eyes fixed on your outfit.
Once you were warm and out of the cold, you looked around the quiet house for everyone else. "Where is everyone?" you asked, trying to sound nonchalant.
Jeno shrugged, putting his controller down on the counter. "I don't know, they've been gone for a while." He raised an eyebrow, his gaze drifting to your cleavage again. "Who were you coming to see?"
You laughed and tilted your head, moving closer to him. "No one in particular. I was just bored and missed you guys."
"Missed us, but can't pick up the phone?" he joked, moving to sit on the couch.
You smiled and got comfortable on his lap,your legs caging him in as you straddled his waist. "Are you mad?" you asked him, your eyes meeting his.
Jeno shook his head softly, his gaze locked on your lips. "Could never be mad at you."
Your heart swelled at his words, and you felt your face heat up. Suddenly, you couldn't meet his gaze anymore.
Jeno leaned in, his voice teasing. "Why are you acting all shy, little bird?"
You bury your face in his neck. "You're making me nervous."
Jeno's hands moved to rest on the tops of your thighs, and he massaged the skin there. "Now you see how I feel. Come on, look at me."
You finally brought your gaze back to his, and Jeno's eyes locked onto yours. His expression was soft and adoring, and you felt a flutter in your chest. "We have some time before they get back," he said. "Let me have you to myself, hmm?"
You nod and his lips cover yours in a needy kiss, your tongues and teeth in a passionate battle. You hold on to his face, returning the kiss with just as much fever. You can feel his sharp jaw flex under your fingertips as his mouth opens wider and a low moan escapes him. His hands slide lower, resting on your ass before he sits up and effortlessly lifts you. Instinctively, you wrap your legs around his waist as he carries you to his bedroom, kicking the door closed behind him.
He drops you gently on the mattress, and you look up at him as he pulls his shirt off his body. The way he gazes down at you reveals the quiet longing in his eyes. He crawls onto the bed, looming over you with a teasing smile that makes your pulse quicken with excitement.
“Are you gonna be a big girl and take your clothes off, or do you need my help?”
You wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him down for another kiss. You feel playful as you brush your lips against his teasingly. “I think I can manage, but then again…” You give him a smirk. “If you’re offering your help, who am I to refuse?”
He closes the distance once more, smiling into the kiss as his hands deftly strip you of your clothes. Once he's got you naked he kicks off his jeans, the sound of fabric hitting the floor echoing in the quiet room. You reach for the waistband of his briefs, eager to take the next step, but he grabs your wrists, pinning them against the pillow.
“Let me take my time,” he warns.
He gropes your breasts, his hands warm as he teases your nipples, sending shivers of pleasure racing through your body. With a swift motion, he kicks your legs open, sliding a knee between them, and your hips automatically grind down against it, seeking the friction you desperately crave. Your body is restless and all you want is to put your hands on him, to feel every inch of his skin against yours.
In your fight to keep your hands still, they slip under the pillow, where your fingers graze something cool and leather. Curiosity piqued, you pulled it out, and your eyes widened at the sight before you.
“A leash?” you ask, your voice laced with surprise.
Jeno’s head pops up, his face turning beet red as he processes the leather leash and collar in your hands. He glances between the items and your face, his mouth open, fumbling with whatever sentence he's trying to form.
“Uh…I—” He stumbles over his words, clearly flustered, and you can’t help but chuckle at his reaction.
“Didn’t know you were this freaky,” you tease, arching an eyebrow as you lean in closer. “You like to leash your partners? Kinky.”
He looks down shyly, biting his lip in embarrassment. “No, that’s not it…”
An inquisitive “Hmm,” escapes your lips before the realization dawns on you. “No way! Our puppy likes to be leashed?” you say excitedly. “That’s so hot!”
In an instant, he snatches the items out of your hands, his cheeks still flushed. “You’re just teasing, it’s not funny,” he retorts, rolling his eyes.
“I’m serious,” you insist, grabbing his face to force him to meet your gaze. “I want to try.”
The look he gives you is one of pure puppy-dog innocence, those large, expressive eyes reflecting the desire that's swirling in his stomach. You can’t contain your excitement at the thought of slipping the collar around his neck. With careful hands, you tighten the collar and attach the leash, you smile at the dominance you now wield.
Giving an experimental tug, you pull him closer until he’s a breath away, his warm breath fanning across your skin. It’s like a light switch flips, suddenly he's looking down at you, gaze dark like a predator despite being the one leashed.
He lets you wrap your legs around his waist, your heels digging into his lower back as you urge his body closer. Jeno buries his face back into your chest, grinding against you, and you can feel the heat radiating from both of your bodies. You desperately cling to each other, hips moving with need, and you realize just how wet you are when the front of his briefs quickly become soaked by your arousal. Heaving breaths fill the room, mingling with your desperate moans that you can no longer hide. Each drag of his hips sends red hot pleasure through you, but you’re growing tired of his teasing. He knows what you want, all you can think about is feeling him inside you, but he seems determined to rile you up. You might be the one holding the leash, but somehow it feels like he’s still the one in control.
Frustrated, you tighten your grip, tugging him away from your chest. His forehead rests against yours giving you his full attention. Your hand trails down his body, skimming over his toned abs until you reach the waistband of his briefs. This time, he allows you to pull them down, and his eyes widen, round and innocent, as you grip him in your hand.
A low moan escapes him, reverberating through his body as he instinctively thrusts into your grasp. His eyes screw shut, and his head falls against your shoulder in sheer ecstasy. “That’s my good boy,” you whisper, a wicked smile curling your lips as pleasure overtakes him. His soft whimper in response makes you feel powerful.
But it's fleeting. He sits back, his leash glides between your fingertips as he pulls himself away from your grasp. He was still teasing and you were growing sick of it.
“Come on puppy, be good,” you coax. “I need you.”
A playful smile creeps across his lips. “You’ve got me,” he assures, finally relenting to the irresistible pull of your legs urging him inside of you.
In the next moment, he slips between your legs and slides into you. You’re so ready for him, slick and inviting, and you moan his name like a prayer. He has missed you—every delicious inch of you. He’s right where he needs to be.
Your grip on the leash tightens as he begins to fuck you with a steady rhythm. His hands grip your thighs roughly, pulling you against him with each thrust, making you feel every inch of him. When you slide up the bed, he yanks you back down and pins you in place to make you take it.
Suddenly, he manhandles you onto your side with ease, throwing one of your legs over his hip. His strokes turn deep and slow, hitting that spot inside you that makes your eyes roll back. You can’t help but squeeze him just right in this position, and he revels in it, those dark eyes locked onto yours with intensity.
His hands roam freely, groping and kneading your ass until he lands a harsh slap against the skin there, causing you to jolt in surprise. You glare at him playfully and in retaliation, you yank the leash roughly, asserting control. When his gaze meets yours, fire ignites behind those enticing eyes, and a wicked smirk dances across his lips.
He flips you over, twisting your body until you are on your hands and knees. He's on one knee behind you and the other is bent to keep your leg propped open. He drags his heavy cock through your wet folds, ready to take what’s his. He’s deep, you can barely catch your breath, each strong thrust knocking the air from your lungs. One of your legs is suspended over his and you're unable to do much but submit to the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you.
You can feel your arms growing weak from holding yourself up, threatening to cave under the bliss. When Jeno notices, he deliberately drops his leg, and you collapse into a classic doggy style. Instantly, he pushes your head into the sheets, grinding into you before his hips pick up their relentless pace.
You moan loud and unashamed, surrendering completely to him as he continues to wreck you, his every thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. When you look back over your shoulder, your breath hitches at the sight.
Jeno's chest heaves up and down, sweat glistening and trickling down to his happy trail. His hair, once lightly tousled, now spikes up in every direction, a testament to the way you'd run your fingers through it. The collar sits snug around his neck—a beautiful accessory that seems to belong there. The chain of the leash thrashes wildly against his chest with each powerful thrust, creating a rhythm that echoes through the room. His eyes are blown wide with lust, lips swollen from kisses shared, and he looks utterly delectable. In that moment, you can’t believe how you ever forgot just how much fun you had with him, or how stunning he was, and how he made you feel like the center of his universe.
What was a mark, anyway?
All you can think of is Jeno—crave him, worship him—as he fucks you into the sheets, your body begging for more. Each roll of his hips sends you spiraling closer to the edge, and you moan his name over and over in a chant of pure ecstasy.
You wrap your fist around his chain, tugging him down over your shoulder until your lips are just inches apart, and you kiss him as you cum. You don’t loosen your grip—you need him to look you in the eyes. You want to see every ounce of him when he fills you with his cum.
His brows furrow, and his mouth hangs open, breath coming in heavy gasps as he continues to pound into you. His eyelids flutter and he moans. “Harder,” he gasps out and you can’t help but clench around him. You tighten your hold on the leash, effectively choking him just as he reaches his peak.
He grunts loudly, head dropping between your shoulder blades as he spills into you. The sensation pushes you over the edge once more, and the two of you ride out your high together, clinging to each other as you breathe heavily. When he finally catches his breath, he spreads your ass cheeks, pulling out slowly, watching as he drips from your messy cunt.
“That’s it, that’s my girl,” he murmurs to himself.
As he rolls off you, he takes a moment to regain his composure, and when he does, he goes to grab a towel, gently wiping you down. The soft cloth feels soothing against your skin, and then he dresses you in one of his shirts—a perfect fit, soft, and smelling of him. You help him take off his collar, kissing and massaging the skin of his neck.
Once you’re both settled, he pulls you into his chest, wrapping you in warmth. It was cold outside and you wouldn't want to be anywhere else.
You don’t remember dozing off, but the soft sounds of movement in the house awaken you later. the guys must have finally returned. You shake Jeno awake, and he stirs, blinking sleepily as he looks up at you.
“I'm leaving, babe. I had fun,” you say softly, laying a gentle kiss on Jeno's cheek. His eyes are still barely open, and he groans something incoherent that makes you giggle before you slip on your shorts and head out of his room still wearing one of his shirts that hangs loosely around you.
As you step into the living room, you catch sight of Renjun sprawled on the couch, intently watching a show he had been raving about. Jaemin is in the kitchen, visibly busy with something that smells heavenly. You stretch and yawn, drawing their attention.
Renjun glances at you with a playful smirk on his face. “Oh, look who came crawling back,” he jokes, raising an eyebrow.
“Oh hush,” you laugh, picking up a nearby pillow and tossing it at him as you pass.
You walk into the kitchen and greet Jaemin, who glances over his shoulder as you approach. “Hi, baby,” he says sweetly, his tone dripping with mock innocence.
You eyed him suspiciously. Of all the guys, Jaemin is the one you were still learning to read but you knew there was something sinister behind that sweet smile. You knew better than to let your guard down. Beneath his seemingly sweet demeanor, he was likely still mad at you for ignoring him. He was the type to smile and say everything was fine while he was plotting his revenge.
“I didn’t poison it, dummy. Try it,” he insists, smiling as he lets you sample the dish.
You hum appreciatively at the taste. “This is so good,” you moan, letting the flavors dance on your palate. Then you shoot him with your best pleading eyes. “Does this mean I’m off the hook?”
His smirk widens, and for just a moment, his mask slips, revealing a glimpse of the mischief underneath. “Not by a long shot. You've gotta get yours,” he threatens, playfully slapping your ass.
You shiver at the promise in his words but can’t help but smile at the teasing. Making your way back to Renjun, you wrap your arms around him in a warm hug.
“I missed you too, Junnie,” you coo, peppering his cheeks with kisses. He chuckles, enjoying the affectionate attention.
“Are you staying for dinner?” he asks.
You pretend to ponder, tapping your chin dramatically, before giving in. “Sure, I’ve been dying to see this show you keep telling me about anyway.” Truthfully, you missed spending time with them, and without an early class the next day, there was no reason not to.
Settling comfortably on the couch, you watch as Jaemin plates your food and Renjun glares when Jaemin casually tells him to fix his own plate. A few moments later, Jeno shuffles out of his room, clearly drawn by the scent of food. He plants a sweet kiss on your forehead before heading into the kitchen to fix a plate. You immerse yourself in Renjun’s show and it isn't until you've finished an entire episode that it hits you suddenly.
“Where’s Haechan?” you ask curiously.
“Probably working late on his project again,” Jaemin replies, shrugging. “His partner got sick last minute.”
“That sucks. I really wanted to see him,” you pout, disappointment washing over you.
“Yeah, he’s gonna be pissed when he finds out he missed you,” Renjun laughs.
After watching another episode and enduring about thirty minutes of Jeno and Renjun arguing over the show's plot twist, you finally decide to call it a night. You had contemplated waiting up for Haechan, but it was getting late and you were growing sleepy.
“Alright, guys, I’m heading out,” you say, waving goodbye. They were in the middle of cleaning up from dinner, chatting amiably amongst themselves before looking up at you.
“Drive safe, and get some sleep,” Jaemin calls out while the others wave goodbye.
As you get into your car and pull out of the parking lot, a familiar car rolls in just as you’re about to drive away. Your heart skips a beat when you lock eyes with Haechan in the driver seat. He’s looking at you in shock, not expecting to see you at the apartment. You looked just as shocked until you burst into laughter at the coincidence.
On the drive home all you can think about is how he is so going to kill you for leaving without saying goodbye. You can already envision the annoyance etched across his features when the others tell him about impromptu the hangout you had without him.
—
Mark was over at your apartment, his smile brighter than ever now that he had finally gotten better. You were glued to his side, huddled under a blanket against the winter night's chill. After making hot cocoa topped with marshmallows, you had settled in for a movie, completely engrossed in the plot.
Suddenly, your phone rang, causing you to jump slightly. Mark chuckled at your startled reaction before turning back to the screen, clearly unfazed. You glanced at the caller ID and noticed Jaemin's name flashing. Hesitating for just a moment, you hit the decline button and set the phone face down on the coffee table. A small pang of guilt washed over you, but you quickly brushed it aside, focusing instead on the warmth radiating from Mark beside you.
You turned back to the movie, snuggling deeper into Mark’s embrace. His warm hand rested high on your thigh, fingers absentmindedly toying with the hem of your shorts. A smile spread across your face, and you felt your heart warm at his touch. Leaning in, you pressed a soft kiss to his shoulder, prompting him to pull away slightly and meet your gaze with a smile. He then laid a gentle kiss on your forehead, trailing soft kisses down to your cheeks before finally capturing your lips in a tender kiss.
“Did you miss me?” he asked, voice teasing.
“Of course! I’m glad you’re feeling better,” you replied, a playful smirk tugging at your lips.
Mark chuckled. “I knew you couldn’t live without me.”
You rolled your eyes, laughing lightly. “Don’t let it get to your head. I was really just trying to keep myself entertained while you were out of commission.”
“Oh, really?” He raised an eyebrow, that teasing tone making your stomach do flips. “So, I’m just your favorite distraction?”
You laughed, leaning back a little. “I don’t know… this movie is pretty good. You’re not exactly doing a great job of distracting me.”
His laughter filled the room as he pulled you in for another kiss, making you forget all about the movie.
Suddenly, there was a rattling noise as your phone vibrated again on the table.
You ignored it as Mark pulled you into his lap, and the kiss began slowly — soft, and sweet. But as hands began to wander and your chests heaved, the kiss grew needier, more desperate. Finally, your phone stopped ringing, and you sighed in relief into his mouth.
The moment of joy was short-lived when your phone vibrated again. You groaned in frustration, and Mark pulled away, looking at you curiously.
“Don’t you want to answer that?”
You already knew who was blowing you up, and the last thing you wanted was to break the moment with a call from Jaemin. You had finally gotten to see Mark after weeks apart, and you would not let anyone come between you.
“I’m good,” you said absentmindedly, leaning in to steal his lips in another kiss.
“Are you sure?” Mark asked, his words muffled against your mouth as you pressed more kisses to his lips.
You huffed in frustration. He clearly wasn't going to drop it until you answered. “Fine.”
You swiped your phone from where it lay on the coffee table and headed into your room, trying to keep your expression neutral.
“What!” you whispered-yelled in irritation when you answered.
“Renjun wanted me to ask when you were coming over for game night.” Haechan’s voice came through in amusement.
“Renjun told you to ask when I was coming over for game night? at 11:30 pm?”
"Yes"
“We haven't had game night in 2 months…”
“Which is why I was trying to get that ball rolling again.”
You sign in frustration. “Did Renjun also tell Jaemin to call me or was that you?”
“You probably should have answered that. You know how he gets when you ignore his calls,” he said, and you could hear the smirk in his voice. “He hates that.”
You sighed. “Haechan, what do you want?”
“I miss you. I want to know why you’re ignoring me. You stopped by the other day and didn’t even say hello.”
“I’m sorry. I’m not ignoring you, I promise. I was waiting up, but I didn’t know how long you would be,” you replied, your voice softening as you tried to explain. “I have to go though, I’m doing something.”
“Something named Mark? We all saw you with him. You know, that night at the party when you thought no one was looking,” he laughed darkly. “I already don’t like sharing you. You’re my pretty girl, aren’t you?”
The realization hit you hard. Jaemin had seemed off, and now you understood you might be in deeper trouble than you thought.
“Right now, I’m about to be your worst nightmare if you don’t stop blowing me up, and what I did that night is none of your business.”
“You don’t have time for me because you’re with him. I think that is my business,” Haechan pressed.
“I— I don’t have time for this, Haechan! I have to go!” Without waiting for a reply, you hung up, your mind racing. You rubbed a hand down your face, feeling the anxiety clawing at your insides. You were so screwed.
Taking a deep breath, you headed back out to the living room where Mark was waiting.
“Everything good?” he asked, concern lacing his tone.
"Everything is perfect," you insisted, forcing a smile to mask your irritation. You couldn’t let the situation with Haechan ruin this moment. Not now.
Mark studied you for a moment, his brow furrowing ever so slightly as he picked up on the tension in your voice. You could see him searching your face, wanting to know what had just happened during your phone call.
“Are you sure?” he asks gently.
“Let’s just start another movie,” you suggested, getting up to grab the remote.
Mark’s hand found yours when you sat back down, squeezing gently. “Whatever you want, as long as I can hold you.”
—
Ever since that night, you and Haechan had been at odds with each other. If he hadn’t already hated Mark for leaving him with a project to complete alone, he definitely loathed him now for stealing you away.
“Don't let him get to you,” Yuna said, gliding gracefully in circles around you. She had practically dragged you out from under your blankets, ripping you away from the warmth of your heater to join her for some ice skating. Winter was her favorite time of year, but for you? The cold, the snow, and those bleak, gloomy skies felt more like a punishment than the jolliest season of the year.
You struggled to keep your balance on the ice, frowning at her as she effortlessly skated. “He’s being such an asshole right now. Acting like I’m going to just get rid of him or something!”
“Well, are you?” she teased, gliding up to you and grabbing your hands just in time to stop you from completely losing your balance.
There weren't many people at the rink tonight; the already chilly air grew frigid as the sun dipped behind the horizon.
“Of course not! I’m not getting rid of anyone. I just want to spend more time with Mark, that’s all. They’ve had their fun with me, it’s Mark’s turn,” you insisted, your voice wavering slightly as you shifted your weight.
“Our favorite little plaything,” she cooed, scratching under your chin like you were a cat.
“Stop, you’re so annoying!” you laughed, playfully shoving her away. You instantly regretted it as you lost your balance and fell.
Yuna burst into laughter, causing you to glare up at her. “I’m taking a break,” you pouted, waddling off the ice.
“Aw, come on! That was hilarious!” she called out, her voice trailing off in the distance as you moved to the safety of the bench just outside the rink.
You plopped down on the bench and let out a dramatic huff. Lifting your bag onto your lap, you dug through it in search of your phone, hoping that scrolling through some funny videos would lift your spirits. Instead, you found a text message from Haechan waiting for you.
Sunnyboy [8:00pm]
miss how you feel pretty girl :(
Haechan had been torturing you for the past week in retaliation for you not making time for him. He had been bombarding you with pictures, showing himself gripping what was hidden beneath his grey sweats, videos of him stroking himself, his tip red and glistening with precum, and the worst of all—voice memos. If there was one thing you adored about Haechan other than what he could do with his mouth, it was his voice. The way he moaned drove you wild, he had a talent for begging so sweetly it made you weak and he knew it. In every voice memo he sounded like a slut and it was pushing all the right buttons. You needed him badly but he had to give you a taste of your own medicine first.
Whenever you tried to confront him, he feigned ignorance, playing coy like he had no idea what you were talking about. Over the phone, he would call just to tempt you, making you listen to him jerk off. His mic would pick up everything, the slick sounds his fingers made as he pumped himself to the sinful moans that he doesn't bother to hold back all before hanging up, leaving you wanting more. But when he was face-to-face with you, he acted like a saint, full of restraint. You had forgotten that while horny Haechan was a menace, brat Haechan was even worse.
He wouldn’t be satisfied until you came crawling to him on your knees, begging for forgiveness, and that was
Never.
Going.
To.
Happen.
You left him on read, knowing he would ignore your reply anyway, and made your way back onto the ice, hoping to escape the thoughts of him.
Later, you walked around town with Yuna, enjoying your little girls' outing. You loved hanging out with your friends, but one-on-one time felt more intimate in a way you cherished. You listened as Yuna shared stories about her winter break and showed you pictures of her dogs back home. She was eager for you to meet Menchi, the dog she had rescued from behind a froyo shop.
“You should have told me you weren’t going home for the holidays. I would have taken you with me!” she pouted. “You know my mom loves you.”
“As do they all,” you shrugged confidently. “Watch out—I might just become your stepmom.”
“Gay,” Yuna shot back, tossing a marshmallow from her cup at you. You had found a cozy late-night café to warm up before heading home.
“I’m an opportunist,” you replied, mixing your drink before taking a sip. You had gotten some wine, and the longer you stayed there, the more you loved the atmosphere. At night, the café transformed into a social club, serving up alcoholic beverages. You needed something to get your blood pumping and you were tired of hot cocoa.
Your phone buzzed beside you, and you sigh as you see Haechan’s name on the screen again.
Sunnyboy [10:23]
Video attachment
"Who is it?" Yuna asked, sipping her coffee while trying to look at your screen. You quickly locked your phone before she could catch a glimpse. You didn’t need her seeing the outrageous things Haechan sends you.
"It's Haechan; I'm sorry. Give me a moment," you replied, excusing yourself to the bathroom.
Once you were safe behind a stall, you unlocked your phone and navigated back to his messages. The bathroom was empty, but you still turned the volume down, cautious as you played the video. At first, you weren't sure what you were seeing until the camera angle shifted, and you gasped.
You couldn't see much, just a girl with her head in Haechan's lap, her hair obscuring her face and most of her actions. You turn the volume up a little and from the sounds of the video, it became clear what was happening. Haechan's hand rested on the back of her head, pushing it down until she was gagging. He moaned, holding her there until he finally let her come up for air. The video is short and sweet but you're still annoyed by the end of it. You noticed a message you had missed earlier beneath it.
Sunnyboy [10:24]
I can have fun without you too
dont worry ur still my pretty grl
You shouldn’t be upset; you knew he wanted that reaction from you. If you showed your anger, it meant he had won, but damn, were you furious. You locked your phone and stormed out of the bathroom.
"What's wrong?" Yuna asked, concern etched on her face.
"Nothing. What were we talking about again?" you asked, trying to steer the conversation in a different direction.
Yuna wanted to pry but saw the look in your eyes and knew now was not the time.
—
One way or another, you were going to show Haechan that you weren't the one to play with. You wouldn't fault him for going around and sleeping with other girls, you couldn’t, considering you were intimate with almost his entire friend group. However, you knew he was doing it to get under your skin, to provoke a reaction from you. And that's what infuriated you the most.
You had reached out to Renjun to see who was home, and he sent a text back letting you know it was just Jaemin and Haechan. You cursed under your breath, disappointed that Renjun wasn't home. He was the most suitable person to help you get under Haechans skin. If not him, then even Jeno would do, but you really wanted to avoid Jaemin. His punishment was not something you were looking forward to, but you steeled yourself, knowing it was a necessary evil in your quest for revenge against Haechan.
You were determined to get revenge, no matter the cost. You would walk through fire to make Haechan pay, and that included facing the punishment Jaemin was going to give you. You could only avoid it for so long. It was time to rip the band-aid off and if you could inflict some well-deserved payback on Haechan in the process, all the better.
You [8:57]
my prince wru doing today?
Nana [9:00]
well arent u sweet Im at home why?
You [9:01]
can i come thru? I miss you
Nana [9:15]
Oh now you miss me
You [9:16]
Please jaem im sorry
Nana [9:45]
You know your in trouble when you get here right?
When you knock on the door, it swings open to reveal Haechan, casually dressed in an oversized white t-shirt and shorts, a devilish smirk plastered across his face. His eyes take in your figure, and it’s clear he thinks he’s already won this round. The cute pink set you wore just for Jaemin catches his attention, and a flicker of desire ignites behind his gaze. You can tell you’ve got him hooked, but you have other plans.
With a determined stride, you walk past Haechan, refusing to give him a glance, fully aware of the heat of his gaze boring into your back. You get a rush of satisfaction the moment you catch a glimpse of his expression shifting from smug confidence to disappointment when he realizes you aren’t there for him. You can’t help but smile to yourself, knowing that Jaemin's punishment is about to be so worth it. Before Haechan can react or try to get his hands on you, you slip into Jaemin’s room, shutting the door firmly behind you before locking it.
Jaemin is already perched on the edge of his bed, waiting for you. His relaxed posture exudes an air of dominance that sends a thrill down your spine. He's got an easy smile on his face that you know not to trust. He sports a fitted black tank top, clinging just right, and loose grey sweats that hang low on his hips as his legs spread wide. The room is dimly lit, the soft glow from a bedside lamp creating an intimate atmosphere.
You give him your sweetest smile, making sure to sway your hips as you close the distance. Standing between his legs, you let your hand come to rest on his jawline, your thumb grazing his cheek as he looks up at you. He’s so pretty—pretty eyes, pretty lips, and pretty lashes that frame his gaze perfectly. Behind that pretty exterior lies something dangerous but alluring.
“I love that color on you, princess. It’s my favorite,” he murmurs, his eyes roving over your figure.
You lean down, capturing his lips in a quick kiss. “Thank you, Jaem. I know” you reply.
Maybe he wasn’t as mad as you thought.
“Did I say you could touch me?” His voice drips sweetly, yet the underlying bite sends a shiver through you.
Or maybe he was
You can feel the weight of your impending punishment closing in on you. Instantly, you pout and drop to your knees, resting your head against one of his thighs as you look up at him, your hand soothing the other.
“Don’t be like that, Jaem. I said I was sorry,” you plead, giving him your most pitiful puppy dog eyes.
His hand comes up, cupping your cheek with surprising tenderness, and you close your eyes, relishing the sweet caress. But suddenly, his grip shifts to the back of your head, yanking your hair until you’re forced to meet his glare.
“I thought I asked you a question,” he states, eyes darkening. “I know you heard me, baby. Did I say you could touch me?”
“No, sir,” you whisper, a shiver of anticipation coursing through you.
“Hands behind your back,” he commands, releasing your hair.
You comply, settling back on your knees, heart racing as you await his next command.
“Don’t give me that look, baby. You know I hate being mean,” he says, standing up from the bed and moving to his closet. When he returns, it’s with a box of toys—the sight makes you clench your thighs involuntarily. “You know I treat you like a princess when you deserve it.”
“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to ignore you. I was just—”
“Busy with Mark?” He tilts his head in question as he rummages through the box, pulling out a few toys. “I’m not mad. Just tell me one thing, does he fuck you better than I can?”
You swallow hard, biting back a whine. “No, sir,” you finally manage, desperation creeping into your voice.
“Then why does he get your attention while I get ignored?” The question hangs heavy in the air, and you know you have no answer.
“Looks like I just need to remind you who you belong to. Get undressed.”
Once you’re completely bare before him, he nods to the bed, and you get on the mattress, kneeling near the edge, obediently waiting for his instructions.
“Do you trust me, baby?”
“Yes, sir,” you breathe.
“I’ve got a new toy. Can I try it with you?” He pulls out a bar with cuffs on either side and cuffs in the middle, designed to keep your legs open and your hands bound.
“What is that?” you ask, tilting your head in curiosity.
“It’s to keep you open for me,” he explains, voice smooth as silk. “Do you want to try?
Mind racing, you nod eagerly before catching yourself. “Yes, sir,” you correct, using your words. It had been awhile since you had been with Jaemin so you had to remember his rules
“Hands and knees then precious,” he commands.
As you position yourself, a mix of nervousness and excitement bubbles inside you. You had never been bound like this before. You could feel yourself dripping and you had almost forgotten this was all for your punishment. He secures the velcro cuffs around your ankles, and makes you thread your arms underneath your body, binding your wrists to the bar in the center. Face down, ass up, spread wide—completely at his mercy. A breathless gasp escapes you as you realize just how vulnerable you’ve become, the anticipation coursing through your veins like electricity. You can feel butterflies erupting in your stomach.
“Jaemin,” you whine.
"Are you okay, baby?" he asked. His brow furrowed, studying your reaction, waiting for any sign of discomfort.
You whined again, feeling like you were about to implode. "Do something," you pleaded, your voice barely above a whisper.
A soft chuckle escaped him, and he playfully slapped your ass before leaving a gentle kiss that made your breath hitch. The spreader bar dug into your skin, forcing your body to arch in a way that’s almost painfully perfect. There was something about the compromising position that left you feeling extra sensitive. You’ve never felt so open, so on display, and it’s making you melt.
He walks over to reach back into his box of toys and pulls out a blindfold. You look up at him, eyes shining in a silent beg that you hope makes him go easier on you but he just kisses your cheek and ties the blind fold, stealing your vision. The darkness is immediate, suffocating, and it only heightens every other sensation.
You let out a soft sigh as his warm hands glided down your back, kneading your ass. You tense up a little, bracing yourself for the sharp sting of a slap that never comes. Instead his hands leave your body completely, leaving you to wonder what he would do next. You were dripping and you wanted to rub your legs together. You needed to find some kind of friction to ease the ache that was building inside you but the spreader bar held you firm and it was killing you.
You heard the door open and close and you groaned in frustration. He was gone for a few moments and you're glad he came back when he did because you were about to start crying and maybe scream for Haechan to come finish you off.
You hear the faint clink of glass against wood, and then his hands are on you again, cold and wet. Ice. He must have taken a sip of water, letting it chill his lips before he pressed them to your skin.
You gasp as his cold kisses trail down your back. His lips are teasing, brushing over every inch of your skin except where you need him most. When his mouth reaches the back of your thighs, you whine, desperate and broken. He’s avoiding you, toying with you, and it’s driving you insane. You hated this, you would rather him spank you until your ass was raw and get it over with but Jaemin was hellbent on making you suffer, making you feel the longing he had to endure.
“You’re so wet,” he murmurs, his voice thick with awe. “Look at that.” His thumb finds your clit, circling it lightly, and you moan, pushing back against him, desperate for more. Anything. But he just chuckles, his hand leaving you again, and you feel the sharp sting of his palm against your ass. He pulls your cheeks apart and a silent “fuck” slips out as he observes you.
“I always have so much fun with you, precious,” he says, leaning over you. His body is warm against your back, his hardened length pressing into you as he whispers in your ear. “I want you to myself so bad. I really hate sharing you.”
Your breath hitches, and you push back against him, grinding your hips into his. “I’m yours, Nana,” you promise, your voice trembling. He doesn’t stop you, letting you rock against him, begging for relief. But just as you’re about to lose yourself in the friction, he pulls away, leaving you aching and empty.
You hear the clink of the glass again, and shiver as you feel him press a cold ice cube against your pussy lips. He holds it in between his lips as it melts and drips down your cunt making you yelp. “Nana, it's cold.”
He slaps the back of your thigh, his mouth too full to speak. The ice eventually melts and you feel his tongue, cold and wet, tracing through your folds, and you whimper. It’s maddening. He’s relentless, licking and teasing, never giving you the pressure you need. You’re drenched, your thighs shaking, and all you can do is take it. You’re his to play with.
You know this isn't even the beginning of what he had in store for you.
“So fucking greedy,” he says, pulling away for just a moment. “That’s why you needed Mark, huh? We weren’t enough for you?”
“It’s not like that,” you choke out, your voice cracking with the tears threatening to spill.
“It’s okay, baby. I like sluts. They always make the prettiest noises when I break them.”
His tongue pushes into you, deep and searching, and you scream, your face buried in the sheets. His hands grip your thighs, holding you against his face, his tongue curling and flicking until you’re seeing stars. He moves to your clit, sucking and teasing, and you’re so close. His fingers dip inside of you and you could feel the tears welling up in your eyes at the pleasure. His fingers thrust and curl up inside of you until your body is tensing up. You’re about to cum but then he pulls away and you sob.
“No! Don’t stop, please!” You hated orgasm denial and of course Jaemin found out about this little weakness of yours somehow.
“That’s too bad,” he says, his voice dripping with amusement. “Been spoiling this pussy too much, now it's become greedy.”
He watches as silent cries and hiccups make your body shake. His hands move gently, rubbing soothing circles against your lower back until your breathing begins to steady, letting you throw your tantrum.
You feel him loosen the blindfold, and you blink to bring your vision into focus. Tear-filled eyes meet his gaze, and he leans down to press a tender kiss to your forehead. "How’s my princess doing?" he asks, checking in on you again.
"I'm fine," you sniffle, but your voice falters as you add, "Please make me cum."
He chuckles softly, a teasing glint in his eyes. "Not yet, love," he replies.
You hear the sound of something being pulled from his box, and then you feel it—a vibration against your clit. It’s the rose toy, and the moment he turns it on, you lose all coherence. “F—oh my god!”
He holds it against you, the low setting sending a heady rush of pleasure through your body. You’re close again, your muscles tightening, but he pulls away just as you’re about to tip over the edge. “Be a good girl just a little longer, and you can have me,” he reminds you.
Your mind is swirling, pleasure clouding your thoughts. Your brain was practically mush in your head and when he leans back down to lick up your slickness, you completely lose it. Instantly, your legs quake, heat pooling in your lower belly, and you cry out, hips pushing back against his face for more. You were close again but it’s as if Jaemin has a sixth sense and he pulls away again.
"No, no, no, no, no!" you repeat urgently, your voice rising in frustration, but also laced with desperation
"It's ok, we're almost done," Jaemin's soothing voice tries to calm you down. “Take it one more time for me," he coaxes, "and I'll let you cum."
You’re a mess, tears streaking your face, your body trembling with need. He pulls off his shirt, then his sweats and briefs, and you hear the soft sound of him stroking himself. He groans as he watches you drip onto his sheets. The tip of his cock is angry red, and the way he grips himself tells you he’s close to breaking too.
He presses the tip of his cock against you, letting it slip through your folds before he’s pushing the tip in. Your throat had grown horse from how loud you had been moaning and screaming. Your back arches deeper as he fucks you with just the tip. He picks up the vibrator again, pressing it against your clit, and you’re so close. He bites his bottom lip as he watches the way you squirm. He was driving you insane. His free hand held firm on your hip to keep you still when you tried to press back into him. You were about to cum but he pulls out, switching the vibrator off, and you sob, your legs shaking as another orgasm is ripped away from you.
Jaemin’s hands move swiftly, the velcro cuffs releasing with a soft rip as he unbinds your ankles and wrists. The spreader bar is tossed carelessly to the side, landing somewhere on the bed with a muffled thud. Before you can even process the relief of being freed, his strong hands are
flipping you onto your back, and there’s no time to catch your breath before he’s positioning himself between your legs.
“Jaem, wait—it’s too much,” you gasp, your voice breaking as he pushes into you, the stretch almost overwhelming after so much teasing. Your body jolts, every nerve alight with sensitivity, and your nails instinctively rake down his back in a desperate attempt to ground yourself. He hisses, but his pace doesn’t falter, his thrusts deep and relentless.
He doesn’t hear you, only responding with a growl as his hands grip your thighs and shove them up against your chest as he continues to fuck you.
The angle is punishing. Your body arches, every muscle tensing as pleasure builds to a breaking point. You’re so close, teetering on the edge, and then—you’re there. Your body convulses as you cry out, your release soaking his thighs and the sheets beneath you. You’re squirting, the sensation utterly overwhelming, and you hear Jaemin’s voice, rough and guttural, as he watches the mess you’ve made.
“Fuckkk,” he moans, as he gazes down at you. “So fucking good. This pussy is so fucking good.” His words are a low growl, and you can see the way his eyes flutter, his own control slipping as he gets lost in the sight of you.
But he doesn’t stop. His hips snap forward again, driving into you intensely. His hands move to your throat, his fingers wrapping around it in a firm but not crushing grip. You gasp, your body still trembling from the aftershocks of your climax, and he leans down, his breath against your ear.
“You gonna answer me when I call you? Gonna text me back?” he demands, his voice low and commanding, his gaze intense as he searches your face for an answer.
“Yes, Nana!” you scream, your voice raw and ragged, your body thrumming with overstimulation. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes again.
“Are you going to make me punish you again?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper now, but it’s no less threatening. His hand tightens slightly around your throat, and you whimper, shaking your head frantically.
“No, Nana.”
“That’s my fucking princess, atta girl.” He says, his lips curling into a wicked grin, his eyes alight with pride. Sweat glistens on his forehead, his hair sticking to his skin, and you’re mesmerized by the way he looks in this moment—utterly wild. Your juices drip down his thighs, and your eyes flicker to the claw marks decorating his biceps, a testament to how badly you’ve wanted him, how much you’ve needed him.
He’s insane, and you love it.
His thrusts grow harder, more erratic, and you can feel him teetering on the edge. His hand leaves your throat, moving to grip your hip as he drives into you one last time. He groans, his body tensing as he spills into you, his release hot and filling. You can feel him pulsing inside you, and it’s enough to send a final, weak shiver of pleasure through your body.
When he pulls out, you collapse back onto the bed, utterly spent. Your muscles ache, your throat is sore, and you’re completely wrecked. Jaemin catches his breath above you, his chest rising and falling rapidly, and you swear it’s like watching a switch flip. The demon that had possessed him—the one that had pushed you to the brink over and over—it’s gone, replaced by the Jaemin you know. His eyes soften, and he brushes a strand of hair from your face, his touch gentle now, almost tender.
“Was that too much?”
“Never.”
After cleaning you up, changing the sheets, and tending to your bruises you decide to spend the night. You had no energy to get up and go home, you weren't sure you could even walk to do so. That morning you wake up in Jaemin's arms, snuggled up to his chest with your legs intertwined. You catch a glimpse of his sleeping face and can't help but smile.
You kiss his nose and untangle yourself from the sheets, careful not to disturb him. He's a deep sleeper, and all he does is roll over and go back to sleep. You quietly get out of bed and make your way to the kitchen to get some water.
You pour yourself a cup of water, savoring the silence of the morning. The gentle chirping of birds fills the air as you lean against the counter, relaxing with a content sigh and letting your mind wander to thoughts of nothing.
Your peaceful moment is abruptly interrupted by the sound of a door opening and closing, followed by footsteps approaching. You assume it's Jaemin coming to join you, but you freeze when Haechan rounds the corner.
In that instant, you remember the original reason you had come over—to rile him up. And boy, does he look pissed. He watches you with a fierce glare as you gulp down your cup of water, standing in front of the fridge while he remains across the kitchen, separated from you by the island.
"When you're ready to come home, I'll be right here," Haechan says.
“You're talking about what?" You inquire annoyed.
How our little Princess runs to everyone but me when she's needy." He rebuttals.
"You brought this on yourself," you shoot back. "You decided to send those photos to get a rise out of me, so forgive me if I felt inspired to do the same."
“Jaemin did a number on you, didn't he?" he says, his eyes drifting to your skin, where the bruises from Jaemin are visible.
Your face flushes as you remember the bruises that litter your skin and how loud you were with Jaemin. “Maybe he did. But that’s none of your business, Haechan.”
“Except it is. it's a little hard to ignore when you're parading around with marks from someone else."
"Maybe they could have been from you if you weren't so insufferable," you snap.
"I've wanted it to be me, but you're too busy with your new plaything," Haechan says, his jaw set in irritation.
"I wish you would stop worrying about Mark." You whisper-yell, trying to keep your voice down from waking the whole house. “What's your issue with him anyway?”
"Besides him fucking me over for my last project… let me think. Maybe it's the fact that you're throwing us to the side for him."
You feel a twinge of guilt at his words, but you try to deflect it. "You're ridiculous when you're jealous, you know that right?"
"Says the girl who just screwed my roommate to get back at me," Haechan says, his voice cold. He rounds the corner of the island and closes in on you.
"Only because you never learned how to wait your turn."
"Don't like sharing," Haechan says, his eyes locked on yours.
"Not my problem, maybe one of those girls can keep you company."
He pins you against the counter, his eyes boring down on you. "Stop acting like you don't want me, if you didn't want me, you wouldn't be here right now."
You glare back at him, trying to maintain your cool. "Well, you're in my way," you say, gesturing to your current position pinned against the counter.
"Admit you want me," Haechan challenges. "Then you can go."
You refuse to answer, keeping your mouth shut as he looms over you. You can practically feel his pent-up desire and frustration as he eye-fucks you a breath away.
His hands find their way to your waist, and with a subtle firmness, he pulls you away from the counter, pinning you to the cool surface of the island in the middle of the kitchen. You find yourself face down on the marble as Haechan stands behind you. His hips pressed into your ass as he reached around to the front of your panties. The soft pads of his fingers stroke you through your panties, sending a shiver down your spine.
“Soaked just like I thought,” he murmured, his voice teasing. You bit your lip, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a reaction.
“Fuck you, Donghyuck,” you spit.
He chuckled, his breath huffing against your neck. “That’s exactly what I’ve been trying to do.” His fingers slipped beneath the waistband of your panties, and you clenched your jaw, determined to stay quiet. But your body betrayed you, your legs parting almost instinctively.
“That’s right, princess. Keep that damn mouth closed and let your body talk,” he said. His fingers teased your clit, and you jolted when he pinched it sharply.
“You’re an asshole,” you hissed, glaring at him over your shoulder.
His innocent expression didn’t fool you for a second. “Me? Never.” His fingers dipped deeper, stretching you open, and you couldn’t help but grind against his palm. His other hand slid up your shirt, his rough palm massaging your breast. You could feel his hardness pressing into you, and he rocked his hips forward, the friction maddening.
The sound of a door creaking open down the hall made you freeze. Your heart skipped a beat, your body heating up with embarrassment. It wasn’t like the guys hadn’t seen you in compromising positions before, but this—bent over the kitchen island at nine in the morning, legs spread open—felt different.
Jaemin emerged from the hall and paused in the doorway, his sleepy eyes taking in the scene for a moment before he shrugged. He yawned, reaching into the cupboard for a bowl, completely unfazed. He leaned against the counter opposite you, crunching on his cereal as if this were the most normal thing in the world. Haechan didn’t stop, and didn't even acknowledge Jaemin’s presence. His fingers continued to thrust into you, his pace relentless. He didn’t care about anything other than the way you were clenching down around his fingers as he scissored you open.
Haechan slipped a third finger into you, and your attention snapped back to him. “Focus on me, baby. Why can’t you ever focus on me?” he tutted, his fingers curling inside you. You whined, your body trembling as pleasure coiled tight in your stomach.
Jaemin’s eyes were on you, watching intently as Haechan worked you closer and closer to the edge. The combination of Haechan’s fingers, his palm teasing your breast, and Jaemin’s gaze was overwhelming.
“I’m gonna cum,” you warned, your voice breathy and desperate.
Haechan smirked, his fingers slowing just enough to keep you teetering on the edge. “I don’t think so, princess. You don’t deserve it.”
“Jaemin,” Maybe he’d take pity on you and finish you off if Haechan wouldn’t. You plead and turn your head to look at him.
“Calling for another man when I’m right here? You just don’t learn,” Haechan sneered, his hand leaving your breast to deliver a stinging slap to your thigh.
“Sorry, princess, I can’t save you,” Jaemin said with a teasing smile. He set his bowl in the sink, pausing to press a kiss to your temple before heading back to his room, leaving you at Haechan’s mercy.
Your thighs trembled, your body begging for release. “Please, Haechan. I’m sorry. Please don’t stop.”
You turned your body enough to pull him into a desperate kiss. You missed his lips, the way they felt against yours. It was him—only him—you wanted. He faltered for a moment, his breath stuttering before he regained his composure and pulled away. He had to stand on business.
“Uh-uh, baby. You were bad,” he said, his fingers slowing to an agonizing pace. You squirmed in his grasp, your orgasm slipping further away.
“No, no, please, no!” you begged, rocking against his hand pathetically. But he didn’t relent. His fingers stopped entirely, and he pulled away, leaving you empty and frustrated.
“Better go find Mark to finish you off,” he said with a bite, his tone sharp and cutting. He turned on his heel and left the kitchen, leaving you alone and seething.
You slumped against the island, your body still throbbing with need. That bastard. You wanted to scream, to chase after him and demand he finish what he started. But instead, you stayed put, your mind racing as you tried to figure out your next move.
Now more than ever you wanted to rip his head off.
—
You had been grumpy all week, and your friends were starting to notice.
Sitting around the fire pit, the crackling flames burn hot against the chilly winter night. The air was biting cold, each breath forming a small cloud of mist that vanished into the darkness. Snowflakes continued to fall gently, blanketing everything in a thick layer of white, while your friends settled in around the fire. Absent-mindedly, you burned your marshmallow to a crisp, imagining it was Haechan melting over the flames.
“You guys see that evil look in her eyes?” Jisung asked the group, bundling himself tighter in his parka and scooting a little closer to Yuna for safety.
“And no one believes me when I tell you she’s been signing me up for spam emails!” Yangyang chimed in, his hands tucked deep in his pockets, shaking his head dramatically.
“Because why would she do that?” Yuna defended you, shooting both of them a disapproving look.
You smirked at her loyalty. To be honest, you had signed him up for all those spam emails, but only after he pushed you into a lake two summers ago, right after you’d spent hours on your hair. Your favorite form of revenge came in the shape of minor inconveniences.
“She’s got you all brainwashed. I’m going to expose her. Just you wait!” Yangyang declared under his breath, plotting your demise.
You roasted another marshmallow, this one perfectly toasted, and handed it to Yuna. She smiled and took a bite, closing her eyes in bliss.
A few days had passed since Haechan left you hanging in the kitchen, and your frustration was starting to build up. Mark was suddenly too busy to reply, Renjun was buried under a mountain of books, Jaemin was working overtime, and Jeno… well, Jeno was back at the gym. He had invited you numerous times, but you had been hoping for a different kind of workout.
“There’s nothing wrong, guys. I’m just cold and picturing Chenle as a marshmallow for dragging us out here,” you lied smoothly.
Chenle rolled his eyes dramatically. “It’s called bonding, you ungratefuls. We haven’t had a chance to hang out in forever!”
“Yeah, maybe because it’s been negative two degrees outside,” Mia chimed in.
“I’m having a great time, Lele.” Jisung declared, flashing a warm smile despite the chill.
“Stop flirting,” Yangyang teased as he scooped up a handful of snow and crafted a perfect snowball. He hurled it over the fire pit, and it landed squarely in Jisung’s chest.
Jisung’s jaw dropped in disbelief. “Hey! I thought you were on my side!” he shot back, throwing his own snowball in retaliation.
Laughter filled the air as Jisung and Yangyang dashed through the snow-covered field in the woods behind the campus, their shouts echoing through the trees. A stray snowball from Yangyang hit you in the back of the head, and in an instant, you shot up, declaring war.
You charged at Yangyang, who was doubled over with laughter. The others joined in, hurling snowballs at each other, blissfully caught up in the chaos. You took the opportunity to sneak up on Yangyang, aiming to smother him in the snow when no one was looking.
“I told you she was crazy! Look!” he cried, but no one seemed to pay him any mind as they all ran, slipping and tumbling in the soft snow. The laughter, the playful shouts, and the thrill you got from strangling Yangyang made you forget everything else that had been troubling you. Chenle was right, hanging out with everyone was worth it. By the end of the night, you found yourself laughing easily and feeling relaxed.
—-
Renjun had a secret.
He was at your apartment today, just like he was every Tuesday, surrounded by a mess of textbooks and scattered notes. The coffee table was a chaotic mess of highlighters and crumpled paper, a testament to your hard work during the study session. Soft music played in the background and you hummed along quietly.
His secret?
While his roommates thought you were growing distant, Renjun didn’t feel any distance at all. The truth was, he had been tutoring you for months, regularly texting you and making sure to see you once a week since winter break. So when the guys complained about your lack of attention, he just played along. Unlike them, he wasn’t worried about Mark because he didn’t have to be. Mark wasn’t taking you from him, so he couldn’t care less about the “competition.” They had no idea about the tutoring sessions, and he was perfectly fine keeping it that way. He enjoyed having you all to himself, and he wasn’t about to let anyone ruin that so he kept his mouth shut.
Most of the time, you two really did focus on studying and making progress, but there were occasions when things got heated. By the look in your eyes, Renjun could tell that this would be one of those times.
“Why do you look like you’re about to pounce on me when you still haven’t tackled number 7?” he teased, raising an eyebrow with a smirk. He leaned back against the couch, closing his textbook.
“Because I can’t focus. I’m just… horny,” you groaned, throwing your head back in frustration. “Everyone’s been too busy to hook up, and this 8=D is starting to look way too much like a penis!”
Renjun picked up your paper and glanced at it, snorting with laughter. “Well, you literally just made that up, so let’s start there,” he chuckled, handing it back to you as you sat cross-legged on the carpet, trying to find some semblance of concentration.
“It was on the paper, I swear it was!” you protested, dramatically laying your head against the coffee table hoping the cold wood would cool you down.
“Need me to take care of you?” he asked sweetly.
“No, I can do this. I’m just being pathetic,” you insisted, sitting up straight and attempting to put on your best brave face, but it was getting harder by the second.
“Really? Are you sure? I’ll make it quick,” he replied, a hint of desperation in his eyes. Maybe he needed it just as much as you did.
You looked at him, and your resolve just crumbled. You were starting to feel a bit like a whore, but honestly, it was hard not to be when everyone was so irresistible. Each one of them had their own charm and quirks that you couldn’t help but love. They each drew you in making it impossible for you to replace any of them. You wished they would understand that and stop worrying about Mark.
Renjun was the one who kept the balance among the chaos, never demanding too much but always there when you needed him. That’s what you liked most about him: his easygoing attitude. He could adapt to every situation, cracking jokes at the right moments while always knowing when to be serious. He was sweet but firm, guiding you without pushing. With his playful charm and sass, he kept you on your toes, making every moment fun. Renjun was your anchor, the constant in your life that you could rely on. You could talk to him about anything, and he always knew how to make you feel better. He was your always.
You finally let out a deep sigh, and the tension in your shoulders eased just a little. “Okay, I could use a little help relaxing,” you said as the corners of your mouth twitched into a small smile.
He takes your hand and leads you to the bedroom, making you think he’s going to lay you down on the mattress but he guides you to the connected bathroom instead. He turns on the shower, checking the temperature and making sure it’s warm enough before both of you start to peel away your clothes. Once under the soothing cascade of water, you let out a sigh of relief.
He wraps his arms around you, holding you close for a moment, letting you rest and relax against him. Then, he gently pulls away and kisses you, his lips soft against yours. He presses you against the cold tile of the shower, and you shiver, but the warmth of the water quickly envelops you, warming your skin as the kiss deepens.
“Am I selfish for wanting to keep you all to myself?” he whispers, laying kisses under your ear.
“I wouldn't mind” you whisper back, meeting his gaze before bringing his lips back to you.
The water cascaded down your bodies, pooling at your feet before swirling down the drain. Renjun’s lips trailed along your jawline, his breath warm as the steam rises around you. His thigh pressed firmly between your legs, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through you as you instinctively rolled your hips against him. You couldn’t help but moan softly into his mouth.
“God, Renjun,” you gasped, your hands sliding up his slick chest to rest on his shoulders. His skin was so smooth under your fingertips and you dug your nails in lightly as he deepened the kiss. His tongue slid against yours, slow and deliberate, tasting every inch of your mouth as if he wanted to memorize it.
His hands slid down your sides to grip your hips. He lifted you slightly, shifting his thigh higher, and you gasped at the sudden pressure against your core. Your head fell back against the wall, your breaths coming in short, ragged bursts as he nipped at your neck, leaving little marks that made you squirm.
You tilted your hips forward, seeking more friction, more contact, more. Renjun chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your skin, and he reached down to grip the back of your thigh, lifting it to hook around his waist. The shift in position made you groan, the angle perfect as he pressed himself harder against you.
“Is this what you needed?” he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. His free hand moved between you, fingers teasing your clit, and you nodded frantically, unable to form words. All you could feel was him—his touch, his warmth, the way his body fit so perfectly against yours.
Renjun’s fingers dipped lower, brushing against your slick folds, and you whimpered, arching into his touch. “So wet already,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “You really were desperate, weren’t you?”
You didn’t even try to deny it, too far gone to care about anything except the way his fingers circled your clit, sending jolts of pleasure racing through you. Your nails dug into his shoulders as you rocked against his hand, chasing the sensation, and he let out a soft groan, his own need evident in the way his hips pressed insistently against your leg.
“Fuck, Renjun,” you moaned, your voice breaking as his fingers slipped inside you, curling just right to make your vision blur. “Don’t stop… please…” If he stopped you would just die. You couldn’t take any more teasing.
“I won’t,” he promised, his lips capturing yours again in a searing kiss as his fingers worked you expertly, plunging in and out while his thumb rubbed tight, insistent circles against your clit. The combination was overwhelming, and you clung to him, your legs trembling as the tension coiled tighter and tighter inside you.
“Look at me,” he commanded, pulling back just enough to meet your gaze. His eyes were dark with lust, but there was something softer there too, something tender that made your heart stutter. You obeyed, locking eyes with him as he increased the pace of his fingers, driving you closer and closer to the edge.
“That’s it,” he urged, his voice rough with need. “Come on baby. Cum for me.”
The command broke something inside you, and you came with a cry, your body shuddering in pleasure. Renjun held you through it, his arms strong and steady as you rode out the aftershocks, your breathing ragged and uneven.
When you finally opened your eyes, he was watching you with a smug grin, his hair plastered to his forehead and his lips swollen from kissing. “Feel better now?” he asked, his tone light but his expression still hungry.
“Much,” you admitted, wrapping your arms around his neck. “But we're not done.”
He laughed, a sound that made your heart skip a beat. “Oh, I know.” With that, he turned you around, pressing your front against the tiled wall. Anticipation coursing through you as he stepped closer, his chest flush against your back.
“Ready for another?” he murmured, his hands sliding down your sides to grip your hips. Your breath hitched as he nipped at your shoulder.
“Always,” you breathed, reaching back to thread your fingers through his hair.
He chuckled before kicking your legs open further and guiding himself to your entrance, the tip teasing at your slick folds. “Tell me what you want,” he demanded.
You bit your lip, your whole body quivering with need. “You,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the sound of the shower. “Just you.”
“Good girl,” he praised, and then he was pushing into you, filling you completely in one hard stroke. You cried out, the stretch and fullness stealing your breath as he began to move, his pace steady and relentless.
“Fuck, you feel amazing,” he groaned, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he thrust into you.
“Harder,” you begged, nails digging into the tiles as he obliged, his hips snapping against yours with increasing force. The pleasure built rapidly, coiling tight in your belly, and you knew you wouldn’t last much longer.
“Cum with me,” he growled, his voice strained as he reached around to rub your clit, the added stimulation pushing you over the edge. You shatter, crying out his name as he follows after you, his release spilling deep inside you.
For a moment, you both stayed like that, panting and tangled together, the water washing away the evidence of your passion. Finally, Renjun shifted, pulling you back against his chest as he nuzzled into your neck.
“Let me stay tonight,” he murmured, his voice thick with sleepiness and contentment. “No more studying, no more stress. Just us.”
You pressed a soft kiss to his temple and nodded, holding him tight. “Anything for you, always.”
When you step out he dries you off and helps you slip on a robe and some slippers. He’s got a towel draped around his hips, and another sits on his head as he towel-dries his damp hair. You glance at him, feeling a lazy wave wash over you; the thought of getting dressed seems pointless when you know your hands might wander again throughout the night.
—
Ringing
Ringing
Ringing
This mailbox is currently full please try—
Mark’s phone rings and rings, but he doesn’t pick up. After a few moments, you hang up with a frustrated groan. You’ve been trying to reach him all day, and it was unusual for him not to respond at all. You had spoken to him a little over the past week but it was always a quick text here or there. He’s always made time for you, so the silence feels deafening. You try to shrug it off, but something gnaws in the back of your mind.
You make your way to Jisung's door and knock. Chenle answers it, looking like he’s about to head out.
“Where’s Jisung?” you ask.
“In his room, playing video games. What’s up?” Chenle says, adjusting his shades.
“Mark’s acting weird, he hasn’t replied to my messages,” you explain.
“Ha ha! Someone's getting a taste of their own medicine!” Chenle teases, grinning. He and the others know the details of your drama with Mark and the guys, but you still haven't told Jisung everything. You didn't know how to bring up your arrangement with Mark without making it awkward. He knows the two of you talk, but you’ve kept the specifics to yourself.
“Very funny,” you roll your eyes. “Where are you going, anyway?”
“Jisung’s being loud with the game, and I need silence. I’m going to go bother Yangyang and Kun.”
“Just don't go over there stressing Kun. He’s my backup husband and I don't need you raising his blood pressure.”
“Lol whatever,” Chenle laughs, closing the door behind him.
When you enter Jisungs room, you see Jisung seated at his desk, yelling into his mic while playing an online game. Big chunky headphones sit atop his head, and the RGB lights of his keyboard and mouse illuminate his dark room.
You tap his shoulder, causing him to jump and yell into the mic. You hear muffled voices coming from his headset. From Jisung's "Sorry, guys," you can assume his teammates are scolding him for almost bursting their eardrums.
“Hold on, guys, I’ve gotta go AFK real quick,” he says, muting his mic and taking off one headphone.
“You scared me! Did Lele let you in?” he asks, confused.
“Yeah, sorry,” you instantly regret barging in to ask him a dumb question now that you see he’s busy. “I was just wondering if you’ve seen Mark lately? He hasn’t been picking up.” Your cheeks heat up when you realize how needy and stupid you sound. Maybe you can’t fault Haechan for the way he acted because here you are sounding the same way.
“Mark? Yeah, one sec,” he replies, pulling up Discord on his second screen. “Looks like he’s playing League with Haechan. They’ve been grinding for days. I swear, he’s addicted.”
“Mark games?” you ask, surprised. He’d never mentioned it before.
“Yeah, he joined our Discord server like a week ago. Haechan got him hooked on Overwatch and League now.”
Your mouth drops open as everything starts to click into place in your mind. That bastard.
You reach for Jisung's mouse and start scrolling through his chat. Sure enough, there are messages back and forth between Mark, Haechan, Jisung, Jeno, and Jaemin. It makes sense that they’d be gaming together. Before Jisung can stop you, you begin typing in the chat.
thefamousandy [9:33]
Haechan you’re dead
—
Lately it's like Mark is never alone, Haechan is always right there with him. It feels like everywhere you turn, there’s Haechan.You spot them on campus, and it’s hard to miss Haechan casually hanging off Mark’s shoulder, that signature cocky smirk plastered on his face as he catches your eye for a split second. If you text Mark to hang out, his response is always “Can’t, out with Haechan already.”
Finally, you’re hanging out alone with Mark at his place, but instead of the quiet, intimate time you were hoping for, you're subjected to a marathon of Mark's League of Legends ramblings. Every sentence starts with the name "Haechan."
Haechan showed me how to…
Me and Haechan played until…
Haechan is really good at…
Haechan
Haechan
Haechan
You were starting to feel like you're stuck in some kind of bizarre, Haechan-centric vortex. You think you might just kill Haechan.
Mark mentions the others, too, but it's like they're mere background noise. All you can hear is Haechan's name echoing in your mind.
"…and then Haechan told me about this one champion, Ezreal, and how you can use his Mystic Shot to last-hit minions from a safe distance. I'm glad Jisung introduced us I’ve been wanting to get into league for forever” he says and you zone back in
"Wait, wait, Jisung introduced you to Haechan?" you ask.
“Yeah, he said they needed another person on their team,” Mark replies.
Right after Haechan, you think you might just kill Jisung too.
“You really like this game, huh? I want to see if you’re any good,” you tease, already cooking up a plan in your head to shut him up.
Mark blushes a little. “Nah, I’m not that good, really. Haechan carries the team.”
You feel a twitch in your jaw at the sound of that name.
“Well, I want to watch you play. it sounds fun! Maybe I can get good and join too,” you say, determined to keep him focused on you.
Mark beams at you, and you trail behind him to his room as he powers up his computer. Without hesitation, you settle into his lap, and he reaches around you to log in. You can’t help but think he looks adorable in his little gamer headphones.
As he dives into the game, he starts explaining the mechanics and the characters but it all sounds like blah blah blah proper name place name backstory stuff. Your eyes drift away from the screen and back to Mark's face, where you get lost in the sparkle in his eyes.
“Are you even listening?” Mark chuckles, his smile widening as he glances at you. You realize you’ve been staring at him for the past three minutes.
“Sorry, it’s just… you’re such a nerd, and it’s kinda hot,” you admit.
His cheeks flush a bright red, and he shakes his head, turning back to the screen to hide his embarrassment. You can’t help but smile as you watch him grow shy under your gaze. He playfully scolds you, “Pay attention!”
A notification pops up on his screen. thyluvhae is online.
You watch as Mark types out a response to Haechan’s request to play Overwatch. “Wanna watch me play a quick match?” he asks.
“Of course!” you smile.
Mark turns on his mic and greets the guys, while you settle back into his lap, content to watch for a little while. He finishes a round, glancing over to check if it’s okay to boot up another.
About halfway through his second round, you shift in his lap and push yourself off, kneeling between his legs. Mark’s eyes flicked down to you, wide with surprise, but before he could say anything, someone on his team started shouting instructions, pulling his attention back to the game.
His hands stayed glued to the mouse and keyboard, but you could see the tension in his body as you began to glide your hands up and down his thighs. Your touch was light, almost teasing, but it was enough to make his breath hitch. He stuttered a little on his sentences when he responded to something that was said, his voice trembling slightly.
You decided to escalate, pulling him from his sweats. His sharp intake of breath was barely audible, but you heard it. He covered it with a cough, his cheeks flushing as he tried to maintain his composure. You spit on his tip, the wetness glistening in the dim light, and began to stroke him with slow, deliberate movements. You take him into your mouth and swirl your tongue deviously around his tip before you trail teasing kisses down the side of his cock,
Mark’s hand shot up to mute his mic, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps. He looked torn between wanting to tangle his hands in your hair and needing to keep playing the game. The team was too close to victory, and they had been trying all day to secure a win. His moans were quiet and breathy, still afraid someone might hear him.
You paused for a moment, looking up at him deviously. “Let me hear you, baby. Don’t be shy,” you whispered. With that you took him back into your mouth and down your throat.
Mark’s moans picked up in volume, his legs spreading wider as he tried to keep himself from thrusting into your mouth. The sound of his keyboard clacking and his mouse clicking filled the room, but you could tell he was struggling to focus. It wasn’t long before his fingers suddenly stopped moving, and he froze. A long, shaky inhale escaped his lips, and his hips twitched upward involuntarily.
You knew you were doing a good job when he let out a low groan, and his fingers flexed on the keyboard. He jolted as someone on his team snapped him out of his trance, bringing him back to the game. Quickly, he unmuted himself. “I’m here, I’m here. I—my eyes are just tired. I’m sorry,” he lied, his voice strained as he tried to cover up his gasps.
You continued to stroke what you couldn’t fit in your mouth, and Mark leaned forward, his face contorted in a mix of pleasure and agony. “Fuck,” he groaned into the mic, his voice trembling. “F-fuck, I almost died,” he said quickly, trying to cover up his moans.
The match dragged on, and you could feel Mark’s frustration building. His body taut with tension as you continued to work him. Finally, the match ended, and Mark let out a sigh of relief. He leaned back in his chair, his chest rising and falling as he watched you.
Without a word, he reached down and gathered your hair into a ponytail, using it as a makeshift handle to control you. “That’s right, open that throat up,” he whispered, his voice rough with need. He pushed your head down, forcing you to take him into the back of your throat. The sensation was overwhelming, and you could feel him throbbing against your tongue.
Mark’s head leaned back against the headrest of his gaming chair, a deep, guttural moan escaping his lips. He held you there for a moment, savoring the feeling before pulling you off of him. He shivers with a groan. “Just like that.”
You stare up at him with doe eyes as your lips shine with a mixture of his precum and your saliva. You pump him faster wanting nothing more than to have him paint your face.
Mark bites his lip before pushing you back down on him. You bob your head up and down sloppily just like he liked it until he was releasing down your throat. “Shit,” he groaned, his voice trembling as he moaned your name. You pull away continuing to pump him and the last of his release lands on your face.
He released your hair, and you pulled away, making a show of licking your lips and swallowing. Mark’s eyes were dark with desire, and he reached down to pull you into a kiss. You moaned at the prospect of him tasting himself on your lips, but before the kiss could deepen, he turned off the game and powered down his computer. With a swift motion, he picked you up and threw you into his sheets, his body covering yours, prepared to return the favor.
When you get home, you decide to FaceTime Jisung. He picks up and props his phone up, grabbing a bowl of food. Dressed comfortably in a hoodie with the hood pulled over his head, he sits at his desk and slurps his dinner.
“What’s up?” he mumbles around a mouthful.
“You were the one who introduced Mark to Haechan!?” you exclaim.
“Yeah, he asked me to! We needed another teammate, so I told them about Mark. How was I supposed to know you were… together?”
“Together? Together in what way?” You roll over onto your stomach in bed, your expression turning serious. Did he mean together together or together together.
“He forgot to mute his mic, and I heard a little too much,” Jisung admits, his face turning red as he looks away from the camera.
You cringe at the thought of what Jisung could have heard. “Are you mad?” you ask, genuinely concerned, your voice softening as you try to gauge his reaction.
“Ew, no! You’re like my sister,” he replies, dismissively.
"I meant about me fucking your cousin, asshat. I said mad, not jealous, genius," you retorted, raising an eyebrow at the screen.
“Why would I be?” he says, taking another bite of his food.
“I don’t know, some people have those boundaries about their family. I just wanted to make sure I didn’t cross any lines,” you explain.
“It’s a little weird, yeah, but that’s probably because I had to listen to him moan in my ear,” Jisung says, shivering slightly at the memory.
“Sorry!” you reply, trying to stifle a laugh. If Jisung had heard that meant Haechan probably had too and you were a little happy to exact a little revenge on him even if you couldn’t see his reaction.
—
As you walk into Mark's house, you're greeted by the sight of Haechan already lounging on the couch, looking like he's made himself right at home. Your face falls, and you shoot Mark a disgruntled glare.
"Seriously?!" you whisper-yell, trying to keep your voice down.
Mark looks apologetic, whispering back, "I'm sorry! He just showed up. I didn't want to be rude."
Haechan, sensing the tension, looks up from his phone with a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "Hey there! Ready for some fun?"
You force a smile, trying to play it cool, and sit down next to him on the couch. "Can't wait."
Haechan leans back, still grinning, clearly enjoying the fact that he's inserted himself into your plans.
Mark tries to diffuse the situation, saying, "Yeah, we were just about to load up some Mario Kart, actually." He starts rummaging for extra controllers near the TV and turns it on.
“I'm down” You say. It did sound fun but you weren't over here for Mario you were here for Mark and you were trying to play with his other joystick. Mark plops down on the other side of Haechan and passes over the remotes.
As the game starts, you quickly take the lead, using your knowledge of the shortcuts and boosts to secure first place. Mark is second, and Haechan is fourth.
As you speed ahead, Haechan tries to take you down with a banana peel, but you dodge it effortlessly. "Too slow," you tease.
The race is heating up, and the three of you are getting increasingly competitive. Mark’s laughter drowns out the sound of the game, and for a moment, you almost forget about Haechan's ever-looming presence. But as the race comes down to the wire, Haechan and Mark make a alliance against you.
“Just let her have it, Mark. I’ll take care of her next round!” Haechan goads.
“Hey! No teaming up!” you yell, half-amused.
Mark just shrugs, a grin plastered to his face as you get blasted with a blue shell that causes you to cross the finish line in second, Haechan gleefully taking first place.
“Cheater” you mumble under your breath.
As the night winds down, Mark puts on a movie and you go grab some blankets while Haechan makes popcorn.
“Wanna share a blanket” You say, trying to snuggle up close to Mark on the couch.
But before Mark can respond, Haechan is back with popcorn and plops down right between you again, acting like a natural cockblock. “Share some with me too.” He hands off the bowl to Mark and throws the cover over all three of you
For whatever reason, Haechan picked a three-hour-long movie, and you're bored out of your mind. You grab your phone and excuse yourself to the bathroom.
You [9:45]
Come get your roommate hes being a nuisance
You text out an sos to Renjun.
RJ [10:20]
Lol which one
You [10:21]
The annoying one
RJ [10:23]
Jaemin?
You [10:23]
annoyingerrrrr
RJ [10:24]
Haechan lmaooo
What did he do
You [10:25]
Cockblockingggggg hes everywhere he wont leave me alone
RJ [10:28]
Just fuck him already
Before you can even think of a reply, the bathroom door creaks open, and you jump in surprise. Haechan pokes his head in.
"What the…?" you whisper-yell, trying to keep your voice down. “What are you doing?”
Haechan shuts the door behind him and locks it, a sly grin spreading across his face. "You were taking too long to come back," he whispers.
"What about Mark?" you ask, trying to keep your cool.
“He fell asleep.”
You can't help but raise an eyebrow. "So?"
Haechan chuckles and takes a step closer, his face inches from yours. "So I'm bored and I knew you'd be in here, trying to escape."
You poke a finger into his chest, trying to assert your dominance. "You know what you're doing," you hissed.
Haechan's smirk only grows wider. "Oh? And what's that, princess?"
"You’re cockblocking. Stop getting in my way."
“Or what?” he teases.
Anger boils up in your chest, and you grab Haechan by the front of his shirt, yanking him closer until you're face-to-face, your grip unrelenting. The harsh words you intended to unleash fade away, caught in your throat. Instead, you slam your lips against his, biting down hard on his bottom lip. Haechan hisses in pain, but rather than pulling away, he leans into the kiss. He's been wanting this for too long, and now that it's finally happening, he's not about to let go.
He tries to push you up against the bathroom counter but with a swift move, you flip your positions around, pinning Haechan up against the counter instead.
Your eyes blaze with fury as you pull away from the kiss. "You think you're clever, stealing Mark away from me like that?" you hiss.
"Someones jealous," he says. His lip is slightly bleeding from the harsh bite, but he's not bothered, instead, he licks at it cockily.
Your anger only grows, and you reach forward, hands tangling in the back of his head, tugging hard enough to make Haechan whine. "You want me?" you say, your breath hot against his lips, your knee pressing up between his legs, making him shudder.
You've taken a few pages from Jaemin's playbook, it seems, learning how to put someone in their place, how to make them feel submission and powerlessness. And from the look on Haechan's face, it's working. He doesn't look so cocky anymore, instead, he looks…vulnerable. Helpless.
Haechan's head nods as best as he can in your grip, the defiance in his earlier demeanor fading.
"When have you ever been afraid to run that mouth?" you say. “Speak up.”
The way he’s pressed up against your knee, you can see a change in his gaze. He’s Hard against your thigh and his body is pressed impossibly close to yours, like you were his only lifeline.
"I want you. I need you so bad," he admits, his voice small.
You can't help but pat his cheek, a smirk forming on your lips. "Good boy."
He whines, reaching out to pull you close, eager to reconnect your lips, but you simply pull away entirely, enjoying the way he falls, eyes swirling with confusion and longing.
"You didn't think it was going to be that easy, did you? Hands behind your back," you instruct. "You have to earn it if you want to touch me."
He complies without hesitation, his eyes innocent and docile, and something wicked stirs within you; you want to ruin him, to break him. You think you will.
Pressing yourself back against him, you slot your leg between his thighs again, "Go ahead, grind against me. Show me how pathetic you are, and maybe I’ll take pity on you."
“Please,” he breathes out, fingers gripping tightly against the cool marble counter of Mark's bathroom. "I’m sorry, I’ll be good."
“Don't make me tell you again.”
Haechan swallows hard, his breath hitching at your authority. You can see the conflict in his eyes—part of him wants to push back and be a brat, but the other part, the one craving you, is ready to surrender completely.
Haechan whines softly as he grinds against your thigh, his gaze locked onto yours. Your fingers grip the back of his neck, pulling him into a kiss. He groans into your mouth, frustration evident as he aches to reach out and grab you, to pull you closer, but he holds himself back, wanting to please you, to be good for you.
As your hands sneak under his shirt, you feel the warmth of his skin. You rake your nails down his stomach, teasingly, before pinching his nipples. The sound that escapes him is a soft moan, and you swallow his noises pressing your lips together until they are sure to bruise.
Your hands continue their exploration, sliding down to the waistband of his sweats. You tug at the fabric, freeing him from its confines, your grip finding the base of him. You hold him firmly, feeling the way he twitches under your touch, and you look at him with a smile.
“Spit on it,” you instruct him sweetly.
Haechan gazes at you with a hazy expression and rosy cheeks as he collects his saliva in his mouth. The spit drips down onto the head of his cock, and he sighs at the way it trickles down.
His breath hitches as you tighten your grip just slightly.
“You listen so well, why can't you be like this all the time?” you say in a whisper.
You stroke him slowly, ensuring to twist your wrist around the head as you move up. Your movements are deliberate, slow, and drawn out to drive him crazy.
His hips buck up into your grasp.. You make a ring around the head of his cock with your fist and watch as he fucks into it. His breath is choppy, and his noises are high-pitched as he throws his head back.
“You make me feel so fucking good, I can't take this,” he cries. “I need you.”
“Shut up before you wake up Mark,” you say cruelly. Your hand stops at the base of his cock and squeezes punishingly causing him to curse and shudder.
Your hand starts moving again, and you attach your lips to his neck, sucking a pretty bruise into the skin there. You nip at the skin meanly before pulling away. You release him and the noise he makes is devastating. You laugh in his face and mock him.
“Grip it, you think I'm going to do all the work for you?”
Both hands lift off the counter, but you stop him. “Keep one hand on the counter and don't move it.”
He follows your instructions, gripping himself firmly. He doesn't move, just looks at you waiting for your next command.
“Look at you catching on fast,” you commend him. “Show me how you like it.”
A broken whine leaves his lips as he starts fisting his cock in front of you. His cheeks are red, and he's clearly embarrassed, but he doesn't stop.
His pace is fast and rough, and he bites his lip to silence his moans. “Slow down,” you instruct.
He shakes his head stubbornly. “Can’t, so close.” He says, words coming out broken.
“You want to finish like that? Be my guest, but you’re not fucking me.”
He whines, but finally stops, his chest heaving as he fights back his orgasm.
“You’re hard headed, so don’t think you’ll be rewarded.” You lean over the counter, pulling your bottoms down but leaving your underwear on. “Fuck my thighs, that's all you get.”
Haechan is behind you in seconds, pushing into the tight space between your thighs. He leans over you, his hips slapping noisily against your ass as he chases his high. His fingers dip into your underwear, playing with your slickness before plunging deep inside you. His fingers match the rhythm of his thrusts, and he imagines it’s his cock filling you.
“Wanna fuck this pussy so bad. You’re so fucking selfish.” He moans in your ear, slowly transforming back into the brat you know and love.
“You’re always doing me dirty, but I still worship this pussy.” His free hand grips your hip, his fingernails biting into your skin. “I’d fill you up, stretch you out like you need, but you won’t let me.”
You moan at his words, grinding back against him as his fingers plunge deeper. “I should fucking break you. I’m too nice to you.”
You’re not sure when the tables turned, but you’re soaking his fingers. He curls his digits deep inside you, and suddenly you’re cumming. He pulls his fingers out and slides your panties to the side, lining up at your entrance. He splits you open and moans at how wet you feel. Wet squelching fills the bathroom as he begins to fuck you. You want to protest but he feels so good you can’t. You hadn’t felt him in so long you would be insane to stop him now.
He had needed this for so long but he's frustrated beyond belief because he's already so close. This was not how he’d envisioned having you after so long. But it was alright, there would always be a next time, and next time, you would be his good girl.
He grips your hair roughly pulling you back to meet his lips and after a few more deep thrusts he's cumming inside you, groaning in frustration. He pulls out, and your panties slip back into place, trapping his cum inside of you. You both clean up and fix your appearances. Honestly, you had forgotten whose house you were at, and you cringe at the thought of how loud you must have been.
You both try to make your way back to the living room as inconspicuous as possible. When you enter the room, Mark is sprawled out on the couch, deep in sleep. You sigh in relief; he’s always been a heavy sleeper, and you thank the lord for that.
“Wanna go fuck on his bed?” Haechan jokes.
You punch him in the shoulder. “Shut up”
—
Jeno had finally convinced you to come with him to the gym. The cold air nipped at your skin as you approached the entrance, and it was late, making you question how he managed to get you here. Maybe it was the fact that you had been missing him more than you cared to admit.
“One more rep, you got this!” he motivates from behind you, his chest pressed warmly against your back, closer than what was probably necessary. The 10-pound dumbbells in your hands were starting to feel like they weighed a ton, and you could feel the burn in your muscles as you struggled through the sets of butterflies. “Come on, don’t stop. Almost there!”
His hands ghost beneath your arms, providing just the right amount of support to help you finish your last rep. You exhale a heavy sigh when you’re finally done, sweat slick against your forehead and trickling down the sides of your face.
“Good girl,” he coos, a playful glint in his eye as he hands you your water bottle.
“I’m never coming back here,” you declare, plopping down on a nearby bench, your legs feeling like jelly.
The gym had already long closed for the night, leaving the two of you alone. Jeno had started working part-time at the gym and had gained free access to the equipment during off hours. You spent the first hour there helping him tidy up, wiping down machines and stacking weights, before he finally dragged you onto the floor for a workout. Once he noticed how bad your form was, he stepped right in, transforming into your personal trainer.
“Don’t be like that, it’s not so bad! Besides, who else is going to keep me company?” he pouts cutely.
“I don’t know… how about you bring the other musclehead?” you say.
“It’s easier to work out when I’m looking at something pretty,” he replies.
“Since when isn’t Jaemin pretty?” you challenge, raising an eyebrow.
“You know what I mean,” he counters, sitting down beside you on the bench. You can’t help but notice the way his broad shoulders fill out his tank top. He hands you his sports water bottle, and you shoot a mouthful of water down your throat.
“Have you had enough fun torturing me yet? Can we leave now?” You yawn, stretching your arms above your head and feeling the pleasant release in your muscles.
He takes the water bottle back and drinks from it before he stands to find his bag. “Yeah, want to shower first?”
You try to follow him into the men’s locker room but he stops you abruptly, a serious look crossing his face. You quirk an eyebrow, and he gives you a stern look in return. “Cameras, dummy,” he reminds you, then dramatically gestures toward the women’s bathroom, his playful tone returning. With a chuckle, you head in the opposite direction, hoping anyone monitoring the footage later would see you as merely lost.
After you freshen up, you meet him in the office, where he’s already sitting at his desk. “I just need to finish up a few more things, and then we can go,” he says.
You take a seat on the edge of the desk, watching him as he focuses intently on the screen. He logs something on the computer, brows furrowed as he concentrates on the screen in front of him. He looks so good, especially with his hair still slightly damp from the shower, beads of water clinging to the ends.
Reaching over, you grab the towel draped around his neck and gently use it to dry his hair a little further. When you pull away, he instinctively reaches out without looking and kisses the back of your hand in thanks, his lips brushing against your skin softly. The warmth of his gesture sends a flutter through you.
You need him bad.
Your eyes dart around the room, scanning every high corner and every hidden nook, but you don’t see anything out of the ordinary. “Hey, Jen, are there any cameras in here?” you ask.
“No,” he responds absentmindedly, his eyes glued to the computer screen, focused on the task at hand.
“Can I sit in your lap?”
“Anything you want, sweet girl, just shut the door,” he replies. You shut the office door, the soft click of the latch resonating in the otherwise quiet space, effectively sealing the two of you inside.
Jeno scoots back in his chair, giving you ample room to settle down on his lap. You straddle his waist, positioning yourself so that you’re facing him. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, you can feel the warmth of his body radiating against yours as he resumes his work.
After a few moments, he hits the last key of the keyboard with a sound of finality, and then the soft whirring of the computer comes to a stop as he shuts it down. You pull back slightly to look at him
“I’m done, baby. You ready?” he asks
You shake your head no, your eyes glazing over and you lean in, closing the space between you, and press your lips against his in a kiss.
For a moment, he doesn’t move, caught off guard by the sudden shift. But then his body responds instinctively; his hands slide up your thighs to grip your waist, pulling you closer against him. The kiss deepens as all the air in the room seems to disappear, his tongue brushing against yours in a slow waltz.
You break away from the kiss just enough to whisper, “There’s one more workout I want to try before we leave.”
Jeno snorts a laugh, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “Corny,” he teases.
You give his shoulder a playful slap, pouting slightly. “Stop! I’m trying to be sexy!”
He just shakes his head at you in amusement before bringing your lips back together.He shifts in the chair, his hands guiding you to adjust your position. You can feel the heat of him through the thin fabric of your gym clothes, his body pressed against yours, hard and throbbing.
His hands slide down to your hips, gripping firmly as he lifts you slightly, guiding you to grind against him. The friction is everything, sending a jolt of pleasure through you that makes you gasp into his mouth. He chuckles, the sound vibrates against your lips. “You like that?”
You nod, unable to form words as his hands move to the hem of your shirt, pulling it up and over your head in one swift motion. His eyes rake over your body, and you feel a flush of heat as his gaze lingers on the swell of your breasts, the curve of your waist. “so fucking beautiful,” he says, his voice thick with desire.
Your hands fumble with the tie of his sweats, eager to feel him. He helps you, shoving his bottoms down just enough to free himself, and you can’t help but let out a small moan at the sight of him.
You shift back slightly, lining yourself up with him, and then you’re sinking down, taking him inch by inch until he’s fully seated inside you. The sensation is overwhelming, it's a fullness that makes your head spin. You let out a shaky breath and your hands grip his shoulders for support as you adjust to the feeling.
“Fuck, you feel amazing,” Jeno groans, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he helps you move. You start slow, rocking against him, testing the rhythm, but it’s not enough. You need more.
You lift yourself up slightly before sinking back down, harder this time, and the moan that escapes Jeno’s lips is enough to spur you on. You set a steady pace, riding him with a growing urgency. He matches your fire as his hips snap up to meet you halfway. His hands roam over your body,the pads of his fingers touching and teasing to drive you wild.
“You’re doing so good, baby,” he murmurs in praise. “Just like that.”
His words fuel you, and you move faster, the sound of skin against skin filling the room. His hands grip your hips, guiding you, helping you find the perfect angle. Every thrust sends a wave of pleasure crashing through you, building and building until you’re teetering on the edge.
“Jeno,” you whimper, your voice breaking as you cling to him. “I’m so close.”
He tightens his grip on your hips, his thrusts becoming more erratic, more desperate. “Come for me sweetie, ” he growls, his voice rough with need. “Let me feel you.”
His words push you over the edge, and you shatter, your body convulsing around him as wave after wave of pleasure washes over you. He follows you with a low groan, his hips jerking up as he spills himself inside you, his grip on you tightening as he rides out his own climax.
For a moment, the only sound in the room is your ragged breathing, the two of you clinging to each other as you come down from the high. Jeno’s hands move up your back, pulling you close, and you rest your forehead against his, your breaths mingling.
“I’m ready now,” you say with a breathy laugh.
As you drive back, Jeno’s hands are interlocked with yours, his thumb stroking the back of your palm lovingly. His eyes are focused on the road ahead, a soft smile on his lips as he hums along to the melody playing on the radio.
In moments like this, you feel a flicker of guilt. He’s so loving, so affectionate, and you absolutely cherish it, but a nagging thought lingers in the back of your mind. You know he likes you, and your heart aches every time you consider it because you’re not sure you’re ready for a relationship. The last thing you want to do is break his heart.
You can’t keep putting it off forever.
“Jeno, can I ask you a question?” you say.
He hums in response, granting you permission to go on, his attention still largely on the road.
“How do you feel about me?” you ask shakily.
A look of surprise crosses his face, and he stutters for a moment, clearly searching for the right words. Taking a deep breath, he finally says, “Honestly, at first, I had a crush on you. I kind of still do, but I know casual is your thing, and I don’t want to ruin what we have now,” he confesses.
“Jeno, I don’t want to hurt you, ever. If you want, we can stop. I don’t want to keep trampling on your heart like this.” You knew friends with benefits could become a dangerous game once feelings got involved. You wish you could return his feelings fully, envisioning a future together, but the timing isn’t right for you.
Jeno shakes his head, a reassuring smile on his face as he squeezes your hand tighter. “No, really, it’s not like that. It’s not some undying love, and I’m not heartbroken that you don’t feel the same way. I’m a grown-up, I can handle it,” he laughs lightly, dispelling some of the heaviness in the air.
You sigh a little in relief and you can see in his eyes that he means it. You could kind of feel the shift as well. Before he was more like a love sick puppy but now he's more….content? Mature? It feels like you’re connecting on a different level, almost like best friends, similar to how you feel with Renjun.
Your heart blooms at the thought. Maybe when you’re ready, Jeno will be the first place you look.
—
Sunnyboy [9:00]
jun forgot to pay for the wifi can i come over and use yours? library closed and have a paper due at 12
You read the message, a small smirk playing on your lips as you consider the true intention behind it. Honestly, it’s hard not to imagine he’s just making up an excuse to end up at your place, but you can’t deny how much you enjoy his company. When he arrives, though, it becomes clear he wasn’t lying.
Haechan sits on your couch, furiously typing away at his laptop, his face stone serious as he races against the clock. Classic him—procrastinating until the last possible minute to whip up something to submit for an assignment he had weeks to complete.
You quietly make him some tea, settling down by the window with a book you had been eagerly waiting to dive into. The storm outside intensifies, rain pounding against the glass, setting the perfect atmosphere for a cozy read while Haechan works alongside you. After about an hour of reading the thunder was becoming too distracting, striking down hard and scaring you away from the window and onto the couch next to haechan.
“Scaredy cat,” Haechan teases without taking his eyes off the screen.
You roll your eyes playfully, closing your book and propping your head on his shoulder, stealing a moment to watch him focus. It’s five minutes to twelve, and he’s typing furiously, powering through the conclusion. Just as he finishes and hits the submit button, the storm roars louder, and suddenly the power cuts out, plunging the room into darkness.
“Shit!… YES!” he cries in triumph as he realizes the submission page went through just in time.
You laugh beside him. “Your luck scares me sometimes.”
He turns to you, a triumphant grin lighting up his face, and he leans over to kiss you in celebration. “Thank you so much. you’re a lifesaver,” he says.
“Anytime.”
Finally catching sight of the storm outside, his eyebrows shoot up. “Damn, when did it get that bad? I don’t think I can drive in that,” he worries.
“Did you think I was going to make you? You’re staying over.”
He wiggles his eyebrows at you. “Me and you all alone in the dark? Does that mean I finally got you all to myself?”
With a teasing smile, you stand up from the couch and make your way to the bedroom. “How will we possibly pass the time?” you ask, throwing a glance over your shoulder.
He closes his laptop, the hunger in his eyes unmistakable as he follows. “I have a couple ideas.”
Once you cross the threshold of your bedroom door you turn to face him, a playful grin dancing on your lips. With deliberate slowness, you begin to strip, giving him a show as you remove each piece of clothing, throwing them at him tauntingly.
“I’m sorry for making you wait so long,” you tease as you toss your shirt in his direction and he catches it before it can land on his head. His eyes roam up and down your body hungrily, and you could sense the dominant headspace he was slipping into. You realize it wouldn’t be like last time, you wouldn’t be in control.
“You will be,” he states firmly, gripping the fabric of his shirt and pulling it above his head as he strides towards you.
"I'm so scared," you taunt, letting out a soft, mocking laugh as you saunter backward towards the bed, your hips swaying with every step. You watch as his jaw tightens, his eyes darkening with a hunger that sends a thrill of anticipation through you.
“You’re really asking for it tonight, aren’t you?” He says finally standing in front of you.
You smirk, as your knees hit the edge of the bed. “Maybe I am. What are you gonna do about it?”
“Let’s see if you can keep that attitude.” In an instant he's pushing you down and climbing on top of you. His lips crash against yours and his tongue seeks entrance eagerly. You moan into his mouth, your fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. But he swiftly grabs your wrists, pinning them above your head with one hand while the other trails down your body, leaving a trail of fire in its wake.
He spreads your legs open roughly, forcing his way between them and grinding his hips down sharply against you.
“Feel me, baby? That’s what you do to me,” he moans against your skin.
“Please,” you whisper, your voice trembling. “Please, I need you.”
“Begging already?” he teases, his fingers slipping between your bodies and dipping inside you. “I haven’t even started yet.”
He collects your juices on his fingers before he pulls them out, savoring the taste of you on his tongue when he licks them clean. “Sweet.” He groans before connecting your lips again. You chase the taste, but he pulls back, sitting up to strip off the rest of his clothes. Breathless, you watch as he reveals himself, his hard cock standing at attention.
He slips off the bed, positioning you how he wants. You find yourself lying on your back with your head hanging off the edge of the mattress.
“Tap if you need air,” is the only warning you get before he slips his cock past your lips.
One hand grips the back of your neck while the other trails down your body, teasing your nipples before he’s leaning down to kiss your navel.
You relax your throat, taking him deeper with every thrust. There’s little for you to do other than lay there and be his toy. His movements are gentle at first, but then he picks up the pace, thrusting harder as he watches the way he bulges in your throat.
Suddenly, he spreads your legs wide and delivers a stinging slap to your cunt, making you jump. He circles your clit expertly before opening you up again with his fingers. You moan around his cock, and he shivers at the vibrations the sound makes.
His pace quickens, thrusts becoming more forceful as he fucks your mouth. You choke, and he moans, pushing himself down your throat and holding himself there despite your struggles for breath. You hold on until tears prick your eyes and he finally pulls back to allow you to gasp for air.
“So good,” he whispers as you catch your breath, focusing now on fucking you with his fingers.
You clench around his fingers and he pulls out delivering a wet slap to the inside of your thigh. “Not yet”
Using the juices that coat his fingers, he strokes his cock, covering himself in you before he thrusts back down your throat. The wet, gargled sounds echo in the room, and his balls slap against your forehead as he pushes into your mouth.
With a light grip around your throat, he wanted to feel the way he moved inside of you, his thrusts quickening. You can sense he’s close, but after a few long, slow strokes, he pulls out, not wanting to finish yet. He helps you sit up, and you know your throat will be sore tomorrow.
You crawl further up the bed and get on your hands and knees, but as he joins you, he delivers a slap to your ass, shaking his head. “No, I want to see you. Turn over.”
You follow his command, spreading your legs wide for him, a desperate need coursing through you.
He lines himself up at your entrance, teasingly gliding his tip through your folds. “Tell me you want me,” he says, his free hand gripping your throat tightly.
“I want you so bad,” you say struggling to breathe.
He slips inside, just barely giving you the tip, teasing you as he pushes in and out. “Tell me you missed me.”
You nod pathetically. “I missed you, bear.”
A low moan escapes his lips at the nickname, and he responds by giving you another inch. “Now apologize to me.”
“I’m sorry for ignoring you. I’ll think twice before I do it again,” you reply slyly.
He smiles. “You think you’re funny, don’t you?”
“I get it from you,” you tease, rolling your hips up daringly with a soft moan.
Without a word, he tightens his grip on your throat, thrusting into you hard. His hips slap against yours loudly, your back arching at the intensity. He doesn’t hold back or let you ease into it, he starts fucking you into the mattress.
“Not so funny now, is it?” he breathes, his movements relentless.
Your legs wrap tightly around his waist, your ankles locked together to keep him close. “Fuck!” you moan, overwhelmed with pleasure.
He leans down, connecting his lips with yours, moaning into your mouth as he lets go of your throat. His hand moves down to grip your hips instead, leaning until your chests touch. Buried in your neck, his hands squeeze your ass cheeks as he lifts your hips to meet each of his powerful thrusts. He fills you completely, stretching you in all the ways you love, and the sounds he makes in your ear has you clenching tight around him.
Suddenly, he pulls out, manhandling you into a new position. He grips your ankles, yanking your legs from around his waist and pushing them above your head. Your hamstrings stretch to the limit, but he pins you down, making sure you take every bit of him. He pounds into you from above, and you claw at his skin, all you could think about was how he feels inside you.
“Look at you,” he says, his eyes locked on where he’s plunging deep inside you. “Spread open like this, pussy swallowing me so easily. We trained you well, huh? You’re a fucking pro.”
One of his hands releases your ankle, dropping down to rub your clit with urgency. His fingers move in a blur, pushing you to the edge as he strikes that perfect depth. You squirm in his grasp, overwhelmed by the intensity of the pleasure building inside you. It’s almost too much, and every thrust makes it harder to hold on.
“Come on, baby, you know what I want. Don’t fight it,” he whispers, leaning down to kiss your chest.
Your body tenses and you're practically showering him with how hard you squirt. Your walls force him out and he just sits back and watches you convulse and make a mess.
He smiles wickedly at you “look at the mess you made.” Your juices drip down his chest and stomach.
Your cheeks heat up, and you watch, frozen, as he takes in the sight of you. “Don't get shy now,” he teases, before plunging back into you.
You're drenched, so wet that he slips in and out of you with ease. He loses all sense of control, the grip of his hands is bruising as his hips grind down hard. His moans are loud and primal, and he gets rougher the closer he gets to the edge. He slaps your thigh harshly, trying to keep you still and open for him as you squirm, trying to close your legs from the overstimulation.
“I know you can take it big girl come on,” he coos.
“I can’t… it’s too much,” you plead.
He slaps your cheek, the shock of the pain sending a jolt through your body. Then, he grips your face, his eyes boring into yours as he chants, “Take it. Take it. Take it,” with each thrust.
“Yes! Haechan!” You moan.
He uses extra strength to keep your hips pinned down as he uses you. His eyes flutter and his brows furrow and he finally cums deep inside of you. “Fuuck” he moans drawn out. His hips continue to move, fucking you through his high. He didn't want to stop, his thrusts turning pathetic as he finally succumbs to his overstimulation and locks up, unable to move.
When he finally pulls away, everything is sticky and wet, and you're left lying, exhausted, on the bed. The wet sheets stick to your body as you peel yourself off.
“Ew, who made this mess?” Haechan teases, as he changes the sheets, and you throw a pillow at him, leaving to take a shower.
Once he's finished cleaning up, he joins you in the shower for round two.
—
Chenle had rented a cozy cabin for the weekend, and you and your friends sat in front of the fireplace, laughing and sharing stories as the night wore on. Some movie flickered on the screen behind you, mostly forgotten as you all munched on snacks, wrapped up in blankets scattered across the floor.
Jisung was the only one still watching the movie, completely engrossed given the fact he picked it. It was some old alien abduction movie that the internet told him had “real alien footage” in it.
Meanwhile, Yangyang was sprawled on the couch, completely passed out, a half-spilled bag of Cheeto puffs resting on his chest.
You, Mia, Yuna, and Chenle were deep into your usual gossip session.
“Guys, I can’t hear anything! It’s getting good!” Jisung complained, shooting you an exasperated look.
“That’s what captions are for!” Yuna shot back.
“Spoiler, the aliens are fake,” you added.
“Shut up bro. You don’t know what you’re talking about!” Jisung hissed back in annoyance
“Can you all ignore him like I do and focus?” Chenle scolded, trying to redirect the conversation. “I’m trying to find out what happened next!”
The group pressed you for the juicy details of your sex life, eager to hear what had happened since you last caught them up. You had spent the day playing drinking games, chatting, and even sledding outside. But now, with the moon high in the sky, it was the perfect time for some dirty gossip.
“Basically, he had my legs up like this,” you said, using Mia as a demonstration dummy. Your friends were nosy, they wanted explicit details and you were more than happy to share with the table.
Mia started moaning dramatically, adding to the theatrics, and you playfully smacked her butt before pushing off.
“Omggggg, where do you find these guys?” Yuna squealed, barely able to contain her excitement.
Mia sits up and grabs her snack, throwing some trail mix in her mouth. “Literally, it’s not fair! You’re hogging all the good dick!”
“Sorry, guys, find your own.” you retorted.
“So, what are you going to do next?” Chenle asked, his tone turning more serious.
“What do you mean?” you asked, trying to gauge where he was going with this.
“In the long run—are you going to pick one or…?” he left the question hanging.
“Yeah, whoever you don’t pick, I call dibs,” Mia chimed in jokingly.
You felt a weight settle in your chest as reality hit you. You hadn’t truly confronted the question. The thought of the "what ifs" and "whens" sent a shiver of fear through you and whenever your mind would wander to those questions you ran away.
“I really don’t know,” you sighed, looking down at your hands. “I guess I’m just scared. I don’t think I can handle being thrown away again. I’m not ready to open my heart up yet,” you admitted quietly.
“That’s understandable,” Yuna replied gently. “But what about them? Are you sure they haven’t caught feelings?”
“I talked to Jeno about his feelings, and we came to an understanding,” you shared. “But for the others, as far as I know, it’s been strictly casual.”
“Just have five boyfriends,” Chenle suggested with a shrug. “That way, if one dumps you, you have a backup.”
“That’s the kind of greed they warn about in the Bible,” you laughed. “You know your ideas are always terrible, right?”
“I say don’t worry about it. Just have fun and enjoy yourself.” Mia advised with a wink.
“Be young and turnt!” Yuna added, throwing her hands up in a playful cheer.
You laugh and the talk lifts a weight off your shoulders. They were right. You should just enjoy what life threw your way and accept things for what they were.
“Glad we had this chat. Now can we watch the movie? The aliens are about to have an orgy!” Jisung exclaimed.
All heads whip towards the screen.
“Got your dumb ass now, watch the movie,” he scolded, a triumphant grin on his face.
—
Mark invited you over for game night with the guys, and you were a bundle of nerves. The last time all of you were together, things got a bit… wild. Mark had really bonded with the others outside of gaming, and they all hung out often now. You never knew who you'd run into when you arrived - sometimes it was Haechan, but other times you'd catch Jaemin just as he was slipping out the door, sending you a sly wink as he left. On occasion, you'd find Jeno sprawled out on the couch, engrossed in animal crossing on Mark's Switch while you and Mark would sneak off to his room for a quickie. Essentially, Mark’s house had become the new hangout spot.
When you got there, the kickback was already in full swing. The guys were all over the house. You could smell food, and you were already feeling better about being there. Jaemin and Jeno were locked in a Mario Kart battle, while Mark and Haechan were in the kitchen watching Renjun carefully arrange the food as they rambled about some MMORPG. Your stomach growled at the sight of the spread. Ducking past the TV, you slipped into the kitchen, offering greetings as you passed.
You walk up behind Renjun, swiping a nacho while he adjusts a bowl of salsa, tilting it ever so slightly for the perfect angle, everything had to be perfect for maximum snacking efficiency. It's the second time he's done so since you walked up. A furrow appears between his brows as he considers the placement. "I wasn't done yet," he grumbles, not looking up, his focus solely on the geometric harmony of the snack arrangement. You kiss his cheek with a laugh and turn to Mark and Haechan.
"What are you geeks talking about?" you tease.
"Don't listen to her babe, she just doesn't get us," Haechan jokingly reassures Mark.
Mark laughs, nudging him in the arm. "Dude, shut up."
Renjun straightens, pleased with his organization of the snacks. "We were waiting for you to get here so we could actually eat before the game," he says, gesturing towards Haechan. "He's been trying to sneak chips since we got here."
"Not sorry," Haechan shrugs, already reaching for the salsa.
"Okay, I'm starving," you say.
Everyone piles into the kitchen, assembling their own plates before heading back out into the living room. Conversation flows easily as you all eat, enjoying the food Renjun brought for everyone.
Once the food is gone and the cleanup is finished, you collapse onto the couch. "So, what game are we thinking?" you ask innocently.
You hadn't yet realized you had walked into a wolf den.
"Well, before you got here, we were having a nice little chat with Mark," Jaemin says, his tone giving away exactly what that chat entailed. He's sitting to your left on the couch, too close for comfort. “We thought of the perfect game.”
"Oh," you laugh nervously. "…Really? And what's that?"
"Mark here thinks he's the best you've ever had, but clearly he hasn't met me," Haechan chimes in from his spot on the floor, leaning forward with a mischievous grin.
"This was their idea," Renjun says, gesturing to Haechan and Jaemin. He's standing near the TV, having just returned from throwing something away in the kitchen.
"Hear them out, though. It will be fun I promise," Jeno adds from beside Haechan.
Your head whips back and forth, searching for someone, anyone, who'll give you a straight answer. What the hell was going on.
"I thought I was special, baby. You should have told me you were fucking around," Mark says, his voice laced with a teasing possessiveness. "I don't mind, though, as long as they know I fuck you the best." He's on your right, effectively boxing you in.
Your face heats up instantly, and your eyes widen in disbelief.
"W-what are you guys talking about?" you stammer.
Finally, Renjun takes pity on you. "They want to see who can make you cum the fastest."
You knew nothing good would come of having them all together in one room. "And what does the winner get?" you ask, swallowing hard.
"The winner gets you all to themselves for a week," Haechan says, his smile predatory. Definitely his idea.
Jaemin pulls something from his pocket and hands it to you. "We're gonna roll this die, and that will decide how we try to make you cum" he says.
It was a sexy die. Of course, Jaemin’s freaky ass had a sexy die. Written on its sides were “Fingers,” “Thigh,” “Dick,” “Dry Hump,” “Tongue,” and a Free Space.
"Some of these aren't very advantageous," you point out.
Mark shrugs, a confident smirk on his face. "That's the fun of it."
They were the players, and you were their board.
"You down? We don’t have to if you don’t want to, of course," Mark adds.
You take a deep breath. "I’m down." If you were honest with yourself, you were more than down. "How are we doing this?"
"You'll be the timekeeper to make sure it’s fair, and we'll start oldest to youngest," Renjun informs you, inching closer to the couch as the game is about to begin.
You nod, your heart racing as you contemplate what’s coming. You can already feel yourself growing wet despite them not having done anything yet.
"I’m first," Mark says, his voice a low rumble beside you. He pulls you to straddle him, his eyelids heavy as he takes in how pretty you look perched up on his lap. He leans back lazily on the couch and he reaches up to grab the back of your neck, gently pulling you closer for a kiss. His hands are busy stripping you while your lips move against each other. his touch drags teasingly over your body as he removes your clothes. His fingers brush against your nipples, making you gasp, and his hips grind into you from below as he helps you adjust your position after removing your panties.
"He's cheating lowkey," Renjun complains.
"Literally," Jaemin rolls his eyes.
“Yea! you're getting a head start, hands off.” Haechan chimes in.
“I'm just helping her undress to make it easier," he smirks, raising his hands in defeat.
He takes the die from your hands, his fingers lingering against your palm, sending a shiver down your spine. He tosses it onto the coffee table in front of you, the sound echoing in the suddenly quiet room. All eyes turn towards it, anticipation thick in the air, to see what it lands on.
THIGH
Mark groans at the fate that's been dealt to him, while the others snicker.
"That's what you get," Haechan teases.
Renjun quickly hands over his phone, the timer already pulled up.
"You ready?" you ask Mark, a sly smirk on your face, finding amusement in the choice he got.
His hands gripping your waist firmly as he positions you over his jean-clad thigh. His face showed nothing but determination. "I'm ready, baby."
You start the timer and Mark doesn't waste any time. His mouth descends upon your breasts, nipping and licking at the sensitive skin as he bounces you on his thigh, the friction creates a delicious sensation, making your breath hitch in your throat.
You're already wet, and the way he's handling you, dragging you over his thigh wasn’t helping the wet patch forming on his jeans. He slaps your ass before gripping it roughly, "just like that, baby, give it to me," he breathes against your skin, words muffled against the nipple in his mouth.
Butterflies erupt in your stomach. You love when he talks dirty, the sound of his voice doing something primal to you. You grind down roughly against his thigh, chasing your orgasm, wanting to be good for him. His hand finds your breast, joining the insistent tug of his lips as he expertly works you up. You tremble, a live wire under his ministrations. You were surprised at yourself. You didn't think you could come from a little thigh riding, but the rough pads of Mark's fingers, the way they pinch and tug at your nipples as you grind against him… it's only a matter of time now.
A hand reaches out for your face. You expect it to be Mark's, but his hands are fully occupied. It's Jaemin's face that greets you, his eyes locking onto yours as he pulls you into a searing kiss. Your surprise breaks way to pleasure as you let him take control.
His kiss melts you, and a whimper tumbles from your lips. You kiss him back feverishly and he matches your passion as his tongue slides into your mouth. Mark's hands tighten on your waist, his movements becoming rougher, pressing you down harder against his thigh. Mark's mouth, his hands, and his thigh, along with Jaemin's hot wet tongue, drives you over the edge.
You cum against Mark's thigh with a shuddering gasp, the phone almost slipping from your grasp before you realize you have to stop the timer.
8 minutes 19 seconds
Haechan groans dramatically when you show everyone the time. “You fucking helped him, dumbass! He could’ve gotten to 10 minutes,” Haechan complains, throwing his hands up in exasperation.
Jaemin shrugs, a nonchalant smile playing on his lips, "I don't care."
"I'm next," Renjun pipes up from his spot on the floor, a gleam in his eye. Despite the fact that there was plenty of room on the couch, Haechan, Renjun, and Jeno all sat crowded at your feet on the floor ensuring they had the best view of the show.
You climb off Mark's lap, and Renjun takes his place on the couch, settling in comfortably. "You're literally last, trade places with me," Haechan tells Jaemin.
Jaemin just rolls his eyes and scoots down on the couch, allowing Haechan to take his place and sit on the other side of you. Mark situates himself on the floor beside your leg.
Once everyone is settled and comfortable, Renjun rolls the die. Everyone holds their breath as it rolls to a stop.
DICK
"Fuck yes!" he shouts in triumph.
Everyone else groans in unison, but you can't help but smile. You didn't care who did it; you were just happy that you're finally getting filled up.
"It's rigged," Jeno huffs.
"Shut up, dog boy," Renjun smiles, unbuckling his pants.
Renjun pulls himself from his confines and strokes himself a few times before helping you over his lap. "Take all the time you need, baby, I don't mind," he winks.
He didn't care about winning, not when he still had his Tuesdays with you. Also why would he rush you, if you were riding his dick he was winning either way. He helps you sink down on his cock, and you start the timer, biting your lip at the stretch.
You could feel their eyes burning into you as you ride Renjun, other moans accompanying yours as you bounce on his hips. You look over and see Haechan already pulled himself free, stroking himself lazily while watching you intently. One of his hands reaches out to grab your wrist, resting your hand in his lap,and you grip him. Jeno is a little more conscious, only palming himself through his sweats, while Mark does the same. Jaemin sits beside Haechan, leaning back cockily, waiting for his turn.
You're so turned on it's driving you crazy; Renjun's hips kick up, fucking up into you roughly. "God damn," he moans, his eyes locked on yours.
You bounce on him with everything you have while trying to stimulate Haechan. Renjun feels amazing and with everyone watching, you feel twice as sensitive. You press your lips against his, and you kiss him desperately. "I'm close," you moan.
He grips your waist, stilling your movements, before grinding you down against him. He spreads his legs a little wider, then jackhammers up into you, jostling you around in his lap. You grip his phone with one hand and release Haechan from your other. All you could focus on at the moment was Renjun.
"Hold it, baby, there's no rush," he says, his voice a husky murmur against your skin. You throw your head back, and a loud moan escapes your throat.
You take it, savoring every second as he fucks you. You feel yourself tightening down around him, close to cumming, but he slows almost to a stop.
"Didn't think I'd ever say this, but hurry up!" Jeno groans, his impatience growing.
Renjun throws his head back, his hands gripping your waist tight as he guides you up and down his cock. He makes you ride him slow, enjoying every moment of being inside of you as he drags out his time.
"You feel so fucking good," he groans out. You could tell by the lazy look in his eyes he was enjoying this. He looked like he was floating on a cloud, high off the feeling he got when he was 6 inches deep in your warm cunt.
His hips pick up their pace, and you can tell he's close. He pulls you down into a kiss, smacking your ass as you ride him. You can feel your orgasm building back up quickly, and with one well-placed deep thrust, he's cumming deep inside you. You shiver as he fills you up and spill over the edge with him, clamping down hard as you cum together.
10 minutes 22 seconds
The others look at the two of you, unsure if they should be happy or mad that Renjun just lost, because from the blissed out look on his face did he really?
Renjun helps you off his lap and you sit down on the couch, your legs still gently shaking. You can feel your wetness dripping onto Mark’s couch, and you cringe a little at the thought.
Renjun stands up and zips his pants again while Jeno takes his spot. Die already in hand, he rolls it on the coffee table eagerly.
FREE
The gods must have been looking down on Jeno, because he rolled a free space, and he was about to use the hell out of it. Jeno was in it to win it.
His eyes lock onto Haechan and Jaemin. "Get off the couch," he commands.
Haechan groaned, his hand still wrapped around his hardness, but he obeyed, sliding off the couch with a reluctant sigh. Jaemin, however, didn’t move. Not an inch. Jeno’s glare sharpened, but Jaemin simply raised a cocky brow, his expression daring Jeno to make him. Jeno rolls his eyes but doesn't push any further. He had other priorities.
Jeno tugged his shirt over his head, revealing his toned chest. His muscles flexed as he tossed the fabric aside. “Lay down,” he ordered. You obeyed instantly and sank into the couch cushions.
Jaemin shifted slightly, settling your head into his lap with a handsome smile. His fingers brushed against your cheek as he caressed your face. You couldn’t help but glance up at him, he always looked good from above you.
Jeno noticed, his jaw tightened and a flicker of irritation crossing his features. Without a word, he shucked his pants down, leaving him in nothing but his boxers. He freed himself, thick and heavy, and positioned himself between your legs. His hand gripped your chin, forcing your gaze back to him. “Pay attention, baby,” he reprimands you. “Start the timer.”
Your fingers trembled as you fumbled with the phone, your breath hitching as Jeno’s free hand caressed your thighs. The moment the timer started, Jeno didn’t waste a second. He throws one of your legs over his shoulders and bottoms out instantly. The sudden stretch made you gasp, your back arching slightly off the couch. Jeno’s thrusts were sharp, precise, and calculated, each one driving deeper, harder, you could feel him all the way to the tips of your toes.
You moaned embarrassingly loud, your free hand gripping the couch cushions for support. Jeno’s rhythm was relentless, his hips slamming into you with a rhythm that left you breathless. The room was filled with the sound of skin meeting skin, punctuated by your desperate whimpers and the occasional grunt from Jeno.
From his new spot on the coffee table, Haechan moaned, “Shit,” his hand moving faster now as he watched you get fucked. His face was twisted in pleasure, his eyes locked on where Jeno was buried deep inside you. Mark had grown a little bolder. His hand now down his pants, his strokes slow but deliberate, his breaths quickening as he watched. Renjun, still sprawled on the floor, was too spent to join in, but his eyes watched as your chest bounced with each thrust.
Jaemin pets your hair as he looks down at you, stealing your attention away from Jeno again.
“Look how well our pretty girl takes it.” He coos.
Jeno brows furrowed in frustration once he realizes you had taken your eyes off of him again. His hips grew rougher, his thrusts harder, until the springs of the couch groaned in protest. His hand moved to your clit, fingers pinching it meanly before rubbing soothing circles. Your eyes were on him again and he was going to keep it that way. He leans down, crashes his lips to yours and swallows your moans, keeping them all to himself.
The phone slipped from your grasp but you didn’t care. You couldn’t think about anything except the orgasm building in your lower belly. Jeno’s rhythm was unrelenting, each movement driving you closer to insanity. A particularly deep thrust that hits your g-spot just right sends you over and you shattered.
Your thighs trembled as you came, your mouth wide open in a silent scream. The pleasure was overwhelming, all-consuming, and Jeno didn’t stop. He kept fucking you, forcing both your thighs to your chest as he chased his own release. His breaths were ragged, his muscles taut as he pushed himself over the edge. With a low groan, he came deep inside you, his hips stuttering as he filled you.
“7 Minutes 43 seconds” Jaemin calls out showing everyone the time posted. Somewhere in all the chaos he found Renjun's phone.
Jeno didn’t pull out immediately, his forehead pressed against yours as he caught his breath. “Good girl,” he murmured loud enough for only you to hear.
Jeno finally pulled out with a grumble, tucking himself back into his briefs. “Someone didn’t stop the clock in time,” he muttered, shooting a pointed look at Jaemin, who only shrugged. You were too spent to sit up, laying still on the couch as your chest rose and fell with your labored breaths. Jaemin leaned down, stroking your cheek gently. “Good?” he asked, voice tender as he checked in on you.
You nodded weakly, your mind hazy and body still buzzing. Haechan took Jeno’s place and rolled the dice.
MOUTH
The others laughed at his luck but he only smiled wickedly. A shiver ran down your spine. They didn’t know the things Haechan could do with his mouth when he wasn’t running it.
Jaemin handed you back the timer and Haechan laid down between your legs on the couch, his face inches away from your used cunt. He blew air on your core teasingly causing your breath to hitch, you were still so sensitive. Haechan chuckles darkly, eyes boring into yours. “You ready baby?”
“Yes,” you whispered, starting the timer.
Haechan isn’t shy and he's not afraid of being a messy eater. Combine that with his competitive nature and you're in for it. He shoved his tongue deep inside you, curling it upward and tasting you with a satisfied hum. He didn’t care that he was eating his roommate’s cum from your pussy—if anything, it seemed to spur him on. He slurped away at the mix of your fluids like a whore. He was so nasty, so unapologetically filthy, and it was turning you on more than you cared to admit. You were already close and you couldn’t help the way you rocked your hips shamelessly against his face, clit bumping up against his nose deliciously. It was becoming too much and your thighs clamp down instinctively, trying to escape the growing overstimulation.
His arms pryed your thighs apart and pinned you down quickly. “None of that.” he tsked.
His fingers replaced his tongue, sliding deep inside you as he sucked harshly against your clit. He flicked his tongue expertly, scissoring you open with his fingers. The look in his eye was deadly. You couldn’t stop your hand from tangling in his hair, pulling him closer as you rode his fingers. Your hips trembled, your body tensing up as he devoured you.
“Fuck, Haechan, don’t stop—I’m so close,” you begged, your voice breaking.
His lips found your clit again, humming against it before pulling off with a loud pop. His fingers rubbed at your clit messily, gliding back and forward easily through your slick. His tongue dived back in to lick you clean. It was all that you needed. You came hard, your body convulsing as pleasure ripped through you. He didn’t stop, rubbing your clit through your orgasm as you came on his tongue. He didn’t stop until your hips thrashed wildly, your moans filling the room.
“Time,” he reminded you and you scrambled to cut the timer.
3 minutes 35 seconds
You dropped the phone with a huff, your body sinking into the cushions as you tried to catch your breath. Haechan sat up with a triumphant smile, face soaked and glistening as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
You waited for him to move, but he didn’t. Instead, he leaned down, his face inches from yours.
“I’m not done. Everyone else got to have their fun with you, baby. It’s my turn,” he said, voice dangerous.
He had been rock hard for a while and he slipped into you, not bothering to take off any of his clothes. His cock stretched you, filling you completely, and you gasped at the sensation. He buried his face into your breasts, licking and sucking at your nipples as he fucked you. His hips moved erratically, selfishly, as if he couldn’t get enough of you.
“Haechan,” you gasped his name, your hands gripping his shoulders as he buried himself into you again and again. He was so deep, so relentless, and you could feel him in your stomach with every thrust. He pulled out suddenly, stroking himself over your stomach. He had already been close due to him humping the cushions earlier. He wanted to make a mess of you. His cum splattered across your chest and stomach, hot and thick, and he groaned as he finished, his eyes locked on yours. It felt so disrespectful and degrading to do it but he loved it. You were his own little cum dumpster.
Haechan gave you a parting kiss when he finally moved off the couch. Before you could catch your breath Mark suddenly took his spot between your legs. You looked up at him in confusion, your mind still hazy from the intensity of Haechan’s attention.
“I’m sorry, baby girl. I need you,” he moaned, sinking into you without hesitation.
Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he fucked you, his hips slamming into your brutally. He regretted going first so badly, it was torture watching everyone else have their way with you. He was so fucking horny, he felt like he was going to die. He lifted your hips up off the couch and the new position hit deep. Your toes curled from the pleasure and you screamed. He knew you were probably still sensitive from Haechan, but he couldn’t find it in him to care. He couldn’t slow down, not when you felt this good.
“I’m sorry,” he apologized again, his voice strained as he drove into you harder, deeper. Your hands pushed at his waist, it was too good. He shook his head, his grip tightening as he forced you to meet his thrusts. “Be my good girl. Come on,” he grunted, his breathing ragged.
You shook your head, your body tensing as another orgasm ripped through you. He bit his lip, his hips stuttering as he came inside you. He dropped you back down on the couch like a rag doll, your body limp and spent.
Jaemin tapped your cheek, bringing your hazy vision back into focus. “Our princess is doing such a good job,” he praised you, his voice soft and sweet. “I’m so proud of you.”
You gave him a dopey smile, your mind foggy and body completely wrecked. You were out of it—fucked stupid by this point.
“Can our big girl take one more for me?” he asked, his touch caressing your shoulder soothingly.
You pouted, your bottom lip trembling. You were so tired, but you didn’t want to let him down.
“Come on, princess. You can take one more. I know you can,” he coaxed, his voice gentle but firm.
You gave him a nod, and he smiled, his pearly white teeth gleaming. “That’s my good girl,” he cooed.
He sat you up, taking the die that Haechan handed him and rolling…
FREE
Maybe the dice really was rigged
Jaemin looks over at you with a questioning gaze. "You sure you're up for it?" he asks again.
"Yes, sir," you reply, already slipping into your role.
He gives you a wicked grin. "In that case, stand up for me, pretty girl," he says, helping you to your feet.
You stand on shaky legs, and he grabs Renjun’s phone, still pulled up on the timer. "Don't drop it this time, princess," he warns, handing you the device, his eyes glinting with amusement.
He bends down, his hands cupping the back of your knees, signaling for you to jump. He lifts you up, and you instinctively wrap your legs around his waist. The others look at the both of you curiously as Jaemin walks you over to the nearest wall and pins you up against it. He shoves his sweats and briefs down his thighs before lining himself up at your entrance.
“Start the time,” he said and once he hears the chime of the phone indicating that the time has started he slams into you.
You’re suspended in mid air pinned up against the wall, he uses you like you were nothing more than a sex doll. You were unable to move, your mouth made an o shape when you moaned and you stayed spread wide open for him. Maybe you were a sex doll.
You can feel the tears that stream down your face in overstimulation as he pounds into you. His lips steal your breath as he kisses you and his arms bulge as he keeps you lifted and steady for him.
"Touch yourself, princess," he instructs you, his voice muffled against your lips. Your free hand comes up, and shakily starts circling your clit. You moan, throwing your head back against the wall and your fingers falter, causing Jaemin to scold you, "Nuh-uh, baby, stay with me."
His hips don't slow, and he's fucking you so hard that the picture frames on the wall start to shake and threaten to fall. Jaemin's hips pick up an impossible pace, and you can feel yourself growing close to the edge. Your fingers play with yourself faster, trying to reach the climax.
“Thats right baby, almost there i can feel it” he moans “dirty pussy gripping me so fucking tight”
You moan at his words, and cum against him, pleasure washing over you. You stop the timer immediately, finally allowed to drop it from your grasp. You hear it clatter against the floor, followed by curses from Renjun. You slump against the wall behind you, and Jaemin helps you to your feet.
Jaemin picks you up and carries you back to the couch, and you all but welcome the soft cushions that support your body. You are dead tired. Renjun collects his forgotten phone and looks at the time stamped on the screen before showing it to the others. "4 minutes 19 seconds," he announces.
As you catch your breath, Haechan lets out a joyful whoop, while Jeno and Mark groan in response. Jaemin tends to you on the couch, checking in on you with a concerned expression. Mark gets up, announcing that he's going to run a bath for you, and the others begin to dress themselves or adjust their clothing. Jaemin helps you to the bathroom, where he and Mark carefully help you wash up, the warmth of the water soothing your tired muscles. The sounds of the others cleaning the living room filter through the closed door.
Later, you lay in Mark's bed, feeling exhausted but content. The others shuffle into the room, Renjun speaks first, "We're going to head back now, if that's okay. Do you need anything?" You shake your head sleepily and get cozy under the sheets.
“Rest up, ok?” Jaemin leans down to kiss your forehead before following Jeno and Renjun out of the room after they say their own goodbyes. Haechan lingers, a mischievous glint in his eye, and says to Mark, "Enjoy your time with her while you can, because starting tomorrow, she's all mine." He winks before leaving the room.
Mark jokingly rolls his eyes and gets up to lock the front door behind the others. When he returns to the room, he crawls under the sheets next to you and pulls you tight against his chest.
"Mark, I'm sorry," you say, your voice barely above a whisper. "I should have told you that I had something going on with the others."
Mark shrugs, his expression relaxed. "I was a little shocked when they told me, honestly. You just look so… innocent." He chuckles.
"Do you see me differently now?" you ask, a frown growing on your face.
Mark kisses your frown away, his lips gentle. "You're still my baby girl. I don't care what you do, nothing will ever change that."
He showers your face with kisses, making you giggle, and you playfully push him away. Then, you climb on top of him, straddling his hips.
"You're not tired?" he asks in amusement.
You grin, feeling a surge of confidence. "I've got pretty good stamina," you say, leaning down to kiss him. "Plus, it’s like Haechan said, tomorrow I'm his, but tonight…" You trail off, your lips brushing against Mark's skin as you snake down his body.
Mark's eyes darken, and he whispered, "You're mine."
A/N: THE ENDDDDDDDDDDDD!!!!!!!!!!!!! Maybe ill do the HC spin off maybe i wont, you'll just have to see. Lets see how well this does and ill think about it.
a/n: all choices during the dice game were randomly selected except haechan, he originally got thigh but mouth was literally made for him so I changed it
✧*:.。. turns out the glamorous world of idols is not so glamorous at all.。.:*✧
✧synopsis: becoming a kpop idol– that has always been your dream. so when you find out you are set to debut in nct's youngest unit, nct dream, you are over the moon. but you soon find out the idol life is not as dazzling as it seems. told over the years of your life, this is the story of your navigating friendship, heartbreak, and the harsh reality of an industry that demands perfection. the most detrimental challenge, though? being hopelessly, pathetically in love with your teammate and best friend, mark lee.
✧pairing: idol!mark x idol!reader
✧genres: drama, angst, slow-burn, romance
✧warnings part Ⅰ: (cyber-)bullying, profanities, major angst, pining, i put the slow in slow-burn, graduation-system trauma (i‘m so sorry), talks of weight
✧wordcount part Ⅰ: 19k
✧author's note: believe it or not, this story was originally supposed to be a short story lmao. be prepared to bawl. like seriously, i cried so many times while writing this story. also, i want to mention that i have taken certain artistic liberties while writing this story, so certain events that happened like the covid pandemic don’t exist and or have been changed to better fit into the plot🖤
masterpost | ONE | TWO | THREE | FOUR | FIVE | SIX | SEVEN | EPILOGUE
2014
Hair, you’ve always thought, is like time– it grows and changes without asking permission. Except when it doesn’t. Except when the viciousness of cheap appliances, a moment of carelessness, and a tangle of bad luck steal it away from you. Life, much like time, is unpredictable in the cruelest of ways, and this morning is the first time you realize just how quickly everything can change.
It won’t be the last.
You used to love how your hair looked in the sunlight– long, cascading waves that your friends envied, that your mother used to brush and braid lovingly when you were younger. It was your safety blanket, your favorite part about yourself. So when, at twelve years old, you find yourself sprinting through the hallways of SM Entertainment, your hair, messy, damp, and most devastatingly, short, you have a hard time swallowing your tears.
It’s ironic how this feels like the biggest hardship you’ll ever have to face, especially in the face of everything that is to come. But, of course, your younger self doesn’t know the journey life has mapped out for you, doesn’t know that today doesn’t begin to compare to the hardships you have yet to face.
But you’re getting ahead of yourself.
You wipe the sleeve of your shirt over your damp eyes, lifting your chin. Practice. You have a dance practice to get to. One that starts in– five minutes ago. Oh, god.
You’re not the type to be late. You’re punctual. You pride yourself on it, being a disciplined trainee. But amidst the chaos of this morning, you must’ve lost track of time.
The sound of your hurried footsteps and harried pants echoes off the walls of the corridors as you run for your life, your heart skipping in a frantic dance of its own. The girl’s practice room is just a floor away, but you’re already imagining the look on your instructor’s face when you burst in, breathless and disheveled. And the looks on the girls’ faces, some sympathetic, sure, but others satisfied to see you slack off. You’re just teenagers, really. But teenaged girls can be vicious, especially when put into competition.
The elevator takes too long, so with a groan, you bolt for the stairs instead. Finally, you reach the right floor. But just as you’re sprinting out of the elevator, the one next to it opens.
“Agh!” The person you collide with is way bigger and taller than you, and running into them feels like crashing into a rock. You spin as you fly through the air and hit the ground harshly.
“Jesus, you okay there, buddy?” You can only groan as the man pulls you to your feet.
So this is going to be one of those days, huh?
“Dance class,” you wheeze, holding your hip.
“Right! I’m running late, too. C’mon little man.”
Confusion quickly morphs into alarm as you recognize the man. “Oh, I’m not–”
“Relax. I was late, too, so I won’t write you up. Just make sure you’re on time next time.”
“But–”
“No buts. Come on now.” He pulls you along undeterred.
“Sir, I’m not a–”
But it’s futile, you’re already getting pulled into the dance practice room– the wrong dance practice room, which becomes painfully apparent when a whole class of exclusively male trainees looks back at you in confusion. You're a deer caught in the headlights, standing frozen by the door.
“Everyone in position!” The instructor calls, oblivious to the quandary he’s caused for you.
“Y/n?” One of the older trainees, Taeyong, musters you, confused. You don’t know each other well but he always greets you warmly in the hallways, and he’s said to be very friendly to everyone around him. “What are you– what happened to your hair?”
But there’s no time to explain.
“He thinks I’m a boy,” you whine helplessly.
Just what a little girl likes to hear, by the way.
Most boys throw questioning glances your way that you’re too flustered to return. Taeyong raises his hand, presumably trying to get you out of this situation.
“Stop!” you hiss, pulling it back down. “I’ll get in trouble for lying!”
He looks somewhere between amused and exasperated. “Why did you?”
“He wouldn’t hear me out!”
The teacher begins his class and you see no way out of this predicament, so, not knowing what else to do, you start following his moves. Maybe the best way to go about this is to just keep your head down and get through this class and then hope he doesn’t question your absence in the next one. So, with a panicked, caged bird for a heart, you begin to follow the dance.
The routine is to a TVXQ song– sharp, precise, and worlds apart from the feminine, delicate moves of girl group dances you’re used to. Your movements are awkward and clumsy at first, each step feeling foreign. But after some time, you begin to find your rhythm. The powerful beats energize you, and soon, you’re hitting the moves with surprising confidence.
It’s different. But it’s exhilarating.
Your execution is by no means perfect, but for your first time in this class, you find you’re not doing too badly. Unfortunately for you though, your teacher seems to agree.
“You’re doing quite well, kid. Why don’t I remember your name? Are you new?”
So much for keeping your head down.
Your stomach churns. “Uhm . . . About that . . .”
So, finally, the words tumble out, a flurry of explanations and apologies, and by the time you’re finished, your face is red, your eyes stinging with unshed tears. The boys in the room are wide-eyed, some amused, others embarrassed for you.
“Well,” the instructor says after a beat. “That’s certainly a first.”
Well, it was nice being a trainee. At least, you can say you didn’t just get kicked out of any trainee program. You got kicked out of SM’s trainee program.
Your eyes are glued to the floor as you brace yourself for the inevitable scolding.
But instead, he chuckles, the sound so unexpected it makes you flinch. “You’ve got guts, kid. Now get out of my class. And next time, speak up sooner.”
It takes you a second to process his words, but when you do, relief floods through you. You nod quickly, bowing repeatedly before you practically flee out of the practice room.
You don’t know it yet, but this day– this ridiculous, chaotic, utterly embarrassing day– is the one that changes everything.
⋆·˚ ༘ *
You do get in trouble. You get yelled at and have to dance the choreography the female trainees were practicing in your absence in front of everyone, over and over, until you execute it perfectly. By the end of it, your legs hurt, your lungs burn, and tears prick your eyes, but you refuse to let them fall. You’re determined to prove that your missing class was a rare slip up, not a symbol for your lacking determination.
Worse than that though, is getting called to the trainee coordinator’s office.
“Park Y/n, you’ve gotten yourself into quite a situation.”
You tremble in your seat, not daring to meet his eyes. His office is plain and cold. White walls, black file cabinets, and stacks of trainee files on his desk. Yours lays open between you, like it’s your criminal records and he’s a detective trying to force a confession out of you.
“Female trainees aren’t even allowed to get their hair cut,” he finally says, his voice sharp enough to make you flinch. “Did you do it to sneak in with the boys?”
“No! No, sir!” you exclaim, your voice rising in panic. “I had to cut it off!”
“You had to cut it off?”
“Yes!”
He cocks a brow at you. “And why, pray tell, is that?”
You open your mouth, but no words come out. Heat floods your cheeks as you glance away, embarrassed. “I, uh . . . I was blow-drying my hair this morning, and it kind of . . . got sucked in.”
You dare to sneak a glance at his face. His brows furrow. “I tried to pull it free, but it wouldn’t come out! The hairdresser said she had no choice but to cut it.”
For a moment, he just stares at you, rubbing his temples as if he’s battling a migraine.
“I swear I’m telling the truth!” you plead, the words tripping over each other. “Do you think I want to look like this? I look hideous!”
The image of your reflection in the salon mirror is still burned into your eyes. Your chin trembling as you’d whined: this is going to take forever to grow out!
You’re about to burst into more frantic apologies when you notice something. The tiniest tug at the corner of his lips. It’s only for a moment, but you cling to it like a lifeline.
“I’m truly sorry, sir. It won’t happen again, I swear.”
He doesn’t say anything for a long torturous moment. “Did you enjoy the class?”
“What?”
The question catches you off guard. You thought he would start rattling off a list of your punishments or, worse, tell you to pack your bags all together. But did you enjoy the class? You expected anything but that.
Does he want you to say no? That you’re much better suited for the girl’s trainee program and that you appreciate its components? Or does he want you to say yes, proving that you’re passionate about dancing no matter what?
“You can be honest, kid,” he assures you not unkindly.
“I, uhm . . .”
You think back on the explosions of excitement that erupted in your belly when you started to get the hang of the choreography. Dancing to TVXQ, it felt foreign, for sure. Utterly different from what you're used to. But . . .
“I . . . I loved it,” you admit quietly, playing with the hem of your shirt.
The coordinator nods slowly, his expression unreadable. “Mr. Lim, the boys’ instructor, said he was impressed with your dancing.”
Your eyes widen. “He– he said that?”
“I also reviewed your past evaluations,” he continues, his gaze sharp again. “Your voice is deeper than the other girls’. You struggle with higher keys, and now, with your hair like this–”
You flinch, cutting him off. “I’m working on it! I’m trying to expand my range And my hai–”
He holds up a hand, silencing you. “The company isn’t planning to debut a solo artist anytime soon. And frankly, you’re difficult to place in a girl group lineup. It wouldn’t make for a harmonious look.”
Your shoulders sink. So this is that talk.
But then, his eyes glint with something you can’t quite place.
“Have you ever thought about debuting in a boy group?
2015
You notice him first in your dance classes. He’s a good dancer, but that’s not what gains your attention. It’s the fact that he stays behind after class; while the sea of trainees filters out of the practice room, their chatter lively and carefree, he remains. Eyes determinately locked on his reflection, he goes over the routine again. And again. And again.
It amazes you how, after such draining sessions, he somehow still finds the energy to keep going. His determination is magnetic– it makes you want to work harder, too.
Having only trained with the male trainees for a couple of months now, you’re too shy to ask him to share the space with you. You’ve only ever exchanged polite, curt greetings whenever you ran into each other, and you find you lack the courage to approach him. So you resort to going out and practicing in the hallways, instead. But even there, you can’t escape him.
Mark Lee is everywhere.
You hear him practice raps under his breath as he walks between classes, see him scribbling lyrics in his notebook during lunch, and sometimes, if you linger in the hallways late enough, you catch him singing softly when he thinks no one’s listening.
He’s not trying to impress anyone. That’s what gets to you. He just works hard– steadily, tirelessly, without complaint. And somehow, he makes you want to work harder, too.
You auditioned at ten years old, singing Garden In The Air by Boa. Singing has always come naturally to you. You never felt the need to practice excessively before. Your vocal evaluations always went well enough. Sure, your range was limited but you were stable– solid.
Stagnation is the enemy of success, one of your instructors always tells you. You never understood the words until now, you think. Never learned to fear their truth until you saw Mark improve rapidly within a month while you still struggled with the same high notes you’d faltered on weeks ago.
So you start staying later, too. An extra hour or two each day practicing the songs for your monthly evaluations until they feel as natural as breathing.
You also start to practice rapping by yourself. You’re meant to focus on singing but if what is supposed to be your strength is slowly turning into your weakness, you should be prepared to shine with other skills. You’re not meant to take lessons for it, so you ask your senior Taeyong, who’s become a dear friend, to explain the basics to you and send him recordings of yourself, asking him for feedback.
Stagnation is the enemy of success.
You repeat the mantra in your head every time you rehearse, every time you push through the stiffness in your moves or get frustrated with the lack of definition in your popping. Jisung, a dance genius in your program, has a natural gift for dancing that makes it all seem effortless. You don’t. So you keep practicing.
Stagnation is the enemy of success.
So you make sure never to stop moving. Just like him.
Johnny, one of the older trainees, tells you Mark auditioned to be a vocalist, and it shows. His voice is beautiful– smooth, emotive, and effortless, the kind that shows that singing is his passion. He raps really well, too, even though he never intended to be a rapper, and you can see why the company wants him to pursue it. It seems to come naturally to him. Then there’s his dancing. Mark has developed a style entirely his own. He has this rare ability to make every choreography feel distinctly personal without losing its essence, that, no matter how many hours you spend practicing, trying to capture that same charisma, still eludes you.
If stagnation is the enemy of success Mark Lee is the enemy of failure.
“–ether?”
It’s on one of those days where you’re practicing a choreography in a lonely corner of one of the corridors of the SM building that he suddenly stands in front of you.
“Sorry?” You’re wide-eyed, your heart startling in your chest.
You pull out your earphones, and Brand New by Shinhwa quietly plays in the silence between you. Mark smiles, rubbing the back of his neck, eyes not quite meeting yours.
"I, uh, I asked if you . . . wanted to go over the moves . . . together. I saw you practising and I . . . thought we could, you know . . . help each other. There are some parts I’m struggling with, and maybe there’s stuff I can help you with too. Not that I’m saying you need my help! I just mean we could, like, practice together. Give each other pointers, you know? Not that I think you need–”
You surprise both of you with your snort. Mark Lee, the infamous trainee who dominates every monthly evaluation, fidgeting and stumbling over his words? His face flushes, and he smiles sheepishly.
“I’d like that,” you say. “Thanks, Mark.”
The boy brightens. “Great.”
⋆·˚ ༘ *
From that moment on, you’re virtually inseparable. Bound by your shared ambition, you spend every spare moment practicing together, bouncing lyrics off each other, or collapsing onto the nearest couch whenever exhaustion finally catches up to you.
Mark makes you want to work harder. It’s the extra hours you spend reviewing vocal lessons together that help you hit high notes you once thought impossible. It’s the relentless repetition of a particularly tricky choreography you push each other to do, that lands you both just below Jisung in the following dance evaluation. And it’s Mark’s continuous, gentle encouragement that gives you the courage to show off your self-taught rapping-skills at a monthly evaluation, earning you the green light to start taking rapping lessons officially.
You’re not just pushing yourselves– you’re pushing each other, caught in an endless cycle of growth that feeds your shared dream.
Maybe it’s precisely that drive that earns both of you a coveted spot in a producing class. When you get the news, it feels like a door has been unlocked, one you hadn’t even dared dream of ever walking through. Producing your own music. Being self-made. How amazing would that be?
The meeting-room-turned-classroom is surprisingly small. A handful of chairs surround a sleek conference table, their number a stark reminder of how selective this opportunity is, that it truly means something to be here.
You’re the first to arrive, your heart jumping excitedly in your chest as you take a seat near the front. When Mark walks in a few minutes later, that same excitement brightens his features.
“We’re early,” he says, though his wide grin tells you he doesn’t mind.
“Aren’t we always?”
“True,” he agrees, dropping into the chair beside you.
“Say, you following me around, Lee?” you tease.
He snorts, and ruffles your short hair. Your pixie cut, mandated by the company to make you ‘fit in better’ with the boys, has been a constant source of teasing. Johnny playfully calls you ‘little dude’ with affection, but not all of the guys are so lenient with their comments. Point is, as far as your hair is concerned, you’ve heard it all, and you’ve grown somewhat resigned to the teasing by now. You still hate it. But somehow, you hate it a little less whenever Mark musses it up.
“Where you go, I go, I guess,” he says with a grin.
Where you go, I go. You like that. You like the promise in those words, like the security they offer.
Though your smile falters once you see the strain in his, and the pink flush that climbs from under his collar up to his cheeks. Mark startles as you place your hand on his forehead.
“W-what are you doing?”
It’s surprisingly cute, the way his eyes dance nervously around your frame. If you weren’t concerned, it would make you smile. “Do you feel well? You’re looking a little feverish . . . but you’re not too warm.”
His brows draw together in confusion before his eyes widen in realization. He covers his face with his hands, groaning. “Ugh, Lee Donghyuck!”
You blink. “Donghyuck?”
You know him, of course. He’s one of the boys that you’re training to debut with, but the two of you don’t exactly see eye to eye. Where Mark is calm and encouraging, Donghyuck seems to thrive on chaos, always finding new ways to push your buttons. He loves to tease you about your short hair, and seems to take endless delight in your exasperation. More infuriating than that, though, is that as soon as he found out you hate people touching your neck, he’s been exploiting it at every opportunity. He’ll sneak up on you, scream ‘Neck attack!’, and then dart in, grabbing your neck just firmly enough to make you tense up and screech in discomfort, all while he cackles at your reaction.
By now, Mark’s face has taken on a deep shade of red. “One of these days, I swear I’m gonna–” He cuts himself off with a scoff, shaking his head. “You know what he did? He’s crazy!”
His flustered state intrigues you. “What did he do this time?”
Mark throws his hands up, leaning back in his chair. “Alright, so I’m lying down, right? Just resting my eyes a little before class. Trying to clear my head, you know? And this fu– this crazy dude, sneaks up on me and– and kisses me!”
“Wait, what?”
“Exactly!” Mark gestures wildly, his expression torn between disbelief and indignation. “I mean, can you believe that? He just leans over, kisses me–”
“Wait, on the lips?!”
Mark slaps a hand over his eyes, groaning in agony. “Yeah! And then he runs off laughing like a maniac! Who does that?!”
You burst out laughing, the mental image too ridiculous not to. Mark glares at you, though the corners of his mouth twitch upward despite his best efforts.
“It’s not funny!” he insists, though his indignant tone only makes you laugh harder.
“It’s a little funny,” you manage between giggles. “Wait– was that your first kiss?”
“Shut up!”
“Oh my god. Donghyuck was your first kiss?!”
Mark groans, shaking his head. “Stop talking! I’m begging you!”
“I’m just saying, that’s quite the feat.” You raise your hands in mock surrender, grinning. “I mean, how many people can say that about themselves? That’s– Yeah, that is– Nope, sorry, man, that’s hilarious!”
Mark narrows his eyes at you, a sly grin creeping onto his face. “At least I’ve had my first kiss.”
Your laughter dies instantly. “Yeah, with Donghyuck,” you shoot back, but the heat rushing to your face betrays you.
Mark smirks, shrugging. “Still counts.”
“It so doesn’t!”
“Oh, it totally does. So . . . when’s yours gonna happen, Park? ‘Cause I don’t exactly see people lining up to kiss you.”
“Oh, shut up!” You shove him playfully, but your flustered tone only makes his grin widen.
Two other trainees finally walk into the room, cutting Mark off before he can tease you further. How’d he manage to win this one?!
The producing class begins, and as the instructor explains the basics of building a track from scratch, your mind settles into focus. But even as you jot down notes and listen intently, you can’t help but glance at Mark out of the corner of your eye.
He’s leaning forward, completely engrossed, his fingers twitching slightly as if itching to put the lesson into practice already. The determination on his face is unmistakable, and once again, you find yourself drawn to it.
But as you regard him, his words from earlier ring in your head.
It’s not like you’ve never thought about it before– the whole first kiss thing. You’ve imagined it in fleeting, daydreamy ways, but it was always in the distant future, something that would just happen when the time was right.
I don’t exactly see people lining up to kiss you.
You know, he didn’t mean it in a malicious way. But he’s also not wrong. You’d laughed it off earlier, brushing it aside with your usual banter, but now it’s gnawing at you in a way you can’t ignore.
You know, it’s stupid. You’re not here to date. You’re here to debut.
And yet . . .
You touch your short hair again, fingers skimming the edges. It’s grown out a little since the company made you chop it off, but it’s still boyish, still a far cry from the long, flowing waves you used to have.
You glance at Mark again. Would he look at you differently if you hadn’t lost your luscious hair in that stupid accident? If you were in the female trainee program, would he have noticed you? Would he have thought you pretty?
He catches you staring.
“What?” he whispers, leaning slightly toward you, his brow raised.
“Nothing,” you say quickly, looking back at your notebook.
You shake the thought away. If that were the case, if you weren’t in the boys’ trainee program, he probably never would have approached you. You wouldn’t even be friends. And that would be worse. Way worse.
Still, the thought doesn’t quite leave you alone, always in the back of your mind like a shadow trailing you as you listen to the teacher, take notes, and try your best to understand the intricacies of producing. Still, no matter how hard you try to ignore it, your mind keeps circling back to that same, stupid thought: What if no one ever wants to kiss you?
⋆·˚ ༘ *
Later that day, the thought still won’t leave you alone.
It nags at you as you practice in the empty practice room with Mark after hours. The routine for your next dance evaluation is demanding, and there’s only days left for you to perfect it, but still your focus is scattered. Instead of perfecting your spins or hitting the beats, your brain insists on replaying the same mocking words that have turned into a hellish tune in your head: No one will ever kiss you. No one will ever kiss you. No one will–
“Okay, let’s take five,” Mark says. He’s breathing heavily, sweat dotting his forehead.
“Fine,” you mutter weakly.
He stretches his arms above his head, glancing down at you.
“You okay?” His tone is casual, but there’s a flicker of concern in his gaze.
You open your mouth to reply, to say yes, sure, but the words don’t come. Instead, you blurt out something else entirely.
“Do you think . . . I mean, did you mean that earlier, about guys not wanting to, you know . . . kiss me?”
Mark freezes mid-stretch, his arms lowering as he looks at you. “What? No! I just– Jesus, Y/n, of course not. I just said that because I was embarrassed about Hyuck, you know . . .”
“Making out with your face?” you tease weakly.
Mark groans, rubbing his face with one hand. “Don’t say it like that!” He sighs, dropping his hand. “Anyways, look, I didn’t mean it like that. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. You– You’re– you’re fine.”
You arch an eyebrow. “Gee, thanks, Mark. Really.”
“No! I mean you’re– That’s not– You’re . . . pretty, okay!” He looks away, ears taking on a pink tinge. “You’ve got nothing to worry about, alright?”
You nervously fumble with the ends of your hair, cheeks heating. Pretty. Even with your hair like this . . . he finds you pretty?
Mark shifts on his feet, shoving his hands into his pockets. “You really think no one’s ever going to kiss you?” he asks, quieter this time.
You don’t answer, your fingers fidgeting with the hem of your shirt.
He sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. “Alright, this is going to sound really weird, but . . .” He hesitates, the tips of his ears turning crimson. “If it bothers you that much, I could, uh, I mean, we could fix that. Like, right now.”
Your head snaps up, heart stuttering. “What?”
Mark scratches his cheek, looking at anything but you. “I mean, it’s just a kiss, right? Nothing crazy. And, we– we’re friends. So, if it really bothers you this much . . .”
You gape at him, completely thrown. “You’d . . . kiss me?”
He finally meets your eyes, but only for a second. “Only if you want me to. I mean, it’s up to you. But . . . yeah. I’d do it. If it’d make you feel better.”
Your heart pounds, the air between you suddenly charged. Before you can overthink it, before you can talk yourself out of it, you nod.
Mark blinks. “Wait, seriously?”
“You offered, didn’t you?” you say, your voice an octave higher.
“Right. Yeah. I did.” He swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Okay. Uh, come here?”
You take a hesitant step closer, and Mark mirrors your moves, his hands still jammed in his pockets. His gaze flickers between your eyes and your lips, and you swear he looks more nervous than you feel. Actually, no, you don’t think that’s possible.
“Alright,” he says softly, almost to himself. “I’m just gonna . . . yeah, okay.”
He leans in, and you close your eyes, your breath catching as you feel his lips press softly against yours. The kiss is gentle, tentative, a little clumsy.
When you open your eyes, Mark’s face is a deep shade of red, his expression a mix of awkwardness and something you can’t quite place. He clears his throat, stepping back.
“There you go,” he says, his voice a little too high. “Now you’ve been kissed. And I can, uh, tell people my first kiss wasn’t with Hyuck.”
You blink, trying to process what just happened. “But it was with Hyuck.”
Mark shrugs, his lips twitching into a sheepish smile. “Yeah, but it’s the same day, so basically not even that much of a lie. We’re talking about a difference of a few hours here.”
You can’t help it– you laugh, shaking your head. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Yeah, well.” He rubs the back of his neck again, looking everywhere but at you. “Glad I could help. Or, you know, whatever.”
The awkward silence stretches for a beat before he gestures toward the mirror. “We should, uh, get back to practicing.”
“Y-yeah. Right.”
As Mark turns to restart the music, you touch your lips lightly, the ghost of his kiss still lingering.
Mark Lee. Your first kiss.
2016
Your debut is ever approaching. You don’t have a debut song yet, and there are still uncertainties about your concept, but the line-up for NCT Dream, the group you’re going to debut in, has started to solidify. Jisung, Donghyuck, Mark, and you were confirmed earlier in the year. Then Jaemin and Jeno, both familiar faces from training. Renjun, a Chinese trainee who arrived last year, follows. And finally, there’s Chenle, the latest addition, who only joined the company this year.
You don’t know how to feel about debuting in a group of boys. You’ve known this would happen for a while now, of course, but seeing it actually come together feels different. Real.
It’s kind of exciting. Kind of scary.
“Out of breath, Park? Maybe you’re not man– ah, sorry, I mean woman enough to keep up with us.”
And right now? Pretty annoying.
“Shut up, Donghyuck,” you snap, more irritated than usual. Any other day, you might have been able to ignore his jabs, but the pain killers you took this morning are starting to wear off, and vicious cramps are crawling up your belly and down your thighs.
“Ohhh, I’m Y/n. I look like a dude but am actually just a weak little girl,” he mocks, smirking.
Jaemin elbows him sharply. “Come on, man.”
“What? I’m just saying– she always gets praised for her dancing, but when it’s just us, suddenly we’re not worth the effort?”
“I’m on my period, you jerk!” You say, pushing him back. “You try dropping to the floor over and over again when it feels like someone’s clawing out your insides!”
The boy, to your satisfaction, looks startled at your bluntness. “Uh, I, uh–”
“Uh,” you mock, flicking his forehead. “Just go get me some painkillers,” you bark, making sure to shoulder-check him on your way to grab your water bottle.
The older female trainee you asked when you got your period for the first time two months ago said it wouldn’t be so bad the first few times, but you quickly found that you were apparently not as lucky as her in that department. You’ve been struggling with the discomfort all morning, but now that your painkillers are starting to wear off it’s becoming even worse.
“Uh, let’s take five, everyone,” Mark says carefully.
The door slams shut behind Donghyuck with a loud echo, leaving a tense silence in the practice room. Tentatively, you spy glances at the others. They sip their waters quietly, not meeting your eyes. Jisung, the only one on your team who’s younger than you, even if just by a few months, downright looks like you just confessed to a murder.
“Look, I’m not loving this either, alright? But this is going to happen from time to time, so you’re going to have to deal with it,” you say firmly, even if your cheeks are flushed with embarrassment.
Jaemin recovers first, offering you a sheepish smile. “You’re right. We’re sorry. Please don’t feel embarrassed.”
Chenle rummages through his bag and approaches you, holding out a chocolate bar. “This is supposed to help, right?”
You snort, accepting the candy. “I don’t know, but there are worse things to try.”
Mark steps closer, resting a hand on your shoulder. “It’ll be fine. I’ll talk to him.”
You exhale, your frustration giving way to uncertainty. “What if he can’t work with me? If it comes down to one of us, it’s clear who they’ll choose. I was already the odd one out with the girls . . .”
“Hey,” Mark says firmly. “I’m not going to let that happen. Where you go, I go, remember?”
It takes Donghyuck longer to cool off than you expect, and after some time you’re sure he’s not actually going to the pharmacy. He’s probably off somewhere plotting his revenge for you.
A part of you feels guilty for sending him on a quest to fetch you medicine anyway, especially because you did so knowing perfectly well that you still have a bottle of painkillers in your backpack. But then you remember how rudely he’d spoken to you, and suddenly you don’t feel so guilty at all anymore.
If he has a problem with you being in this group, then that’s his problem.
You keep practicing the choreography you’ve been learning. Now that it’s more or less set that you’re going to debut together, you have a lot of monthly evaluations as a group, to show your teamwork and chemistry. Donghyuck finally comes back after two more run-throughs, carrying a paper bag.
“Where the hell were you?” Mark asks.
Donghyuck ignores him, striding over to you. Without a word, he grabs your wrist and pulls you out into the hallway.
“If I’m not back in five, assume he’s killed me!” you half-joke over your shoulder. What, is he going to beat you up for ordering him around?
Outside, you pull out of his grip. “What the hell is your deal?”
Donghyuck conspicuously looks over his shoulder, a slight blush on his cheeks that at least suggest he’s not out for blood. You think.
“Here.” He presses the paper back into your hands, looking down at his feet. “I got the painkillers that the lady at the pharmacy recommended. And, uh, my sister said these might help too.”
You peek inside the bag. A bottle of painkillers and . . . heat bandages. “You called your sister?”
His blush deepens. “I felt bad knowing you were in pain. I’m sorry for teasing you. I didn’t mean to cross the line or hurt your feelings. I don’t know when enough is enough sometimes . . .”
You shake your head, a reluctant smile tugging at your lips. “You’re a piece of work, Lee Donghyuck.”
He snorts softly. “Yeah, I get that a lot. Shall we go back in?”
You nod. “Oh, and Hyuck?”
“Yeah?”
You hesitate, biting your lip. “I, uh . . . I might’ve had painkillers in my bag all along. I just sent you out because I needed you gone for a bit. But since we just made up, let’s not dwell on that, okay?”
Before he can react, you dart back into the practice room, calling over your shoulder, “Alright, who’s ready to practice?”
His furious yelling echoes down the hall.
⋆·˚ ༘ *
A couple of weeks later, you make your way to your dorm room after a long day of practices and meetings. Your debut is now right around the corner, so your days are longer than they ever have been. Your body is exhausted but your excitement gives you strength, at least it usually does. After what you learned today, you don’t know what to feel.
Inside, the girls are seated on the floor, passing around bowls of ramen and giggling as they listen to soft music playing from one of their phones. The smell of spicy broth wafts over to you, making your stomach growl despite your exhaustion.
“How’d you manage to sneak those in?” you ask, leaning against the doorframe.
Jimin shushes you with a finger to her lips, though a mischievous smile betrays her.
“Minjeong hid them under her hoodie,” Ning Yizhuo or Ning, as you’ve grown accustomed to calling her, says, laughing.
“I was sweating so much!” Minjeong admits, cheeks flushed. “One almost fell out in the elevator! And guess who was there? Mr. Hajeon. I thought I was dead!”
Ning clutches her stomach, practically howling. “She was shaking so bad, you should’ve seen her!”
You shake your head, smiling weakly. Ballsy, these new trainees. Back when you started training you didn’t dare to even dream of sneaking in fast food.
Ever since you transferred to the boy’s trainee program, you’ve been having a hard time finding friends amongst the female trainees. Before this became your dorm assignment, you used to room with girls that treated you like a stranger, which, granted, in some ways, you were. You wouldn’t really see each other throughout the day because of your different training schedules, and then, when you’d come home to your dorm at the end of the day, the atmosphere would be awkward at best and downright hostile at worst.
So, yeah, to say you hadn’t been much of a fan of your living arrangements would be an understatement.
You don’t want to say you were delighted to find out the two girls you’d been rooming with had gotten sacked but . . . you also weren’t not.
When you were assigned the girls as your new roommates, you didn’t expect much. Your plan was simple: keep your head down and avoid any conflict. But the girls surprised you with their warmth. Despite training in different programs, they went out of their way to include you, greeting you warmly whenever you ran into each other or inviting you to sit with them whenever you crossed paths in the cafeteria. Even on nights when everyone returned to the dorm room drained from long, grueling days, they always greeted you with smiles that were as kind as they were tired, that, for the first time, made the trainee dorm feel a little more like home.
Jimin pats the empty spot beside her. “Come on, sit.”
Gratefully, you collapse into the offered space. She presses chopsticks into your hand and studies your face. “Long day?”
“Same old,” you mumble, twirling noodles onto your chopsticks. “They finally told us their grand plan for NCT Dream.”
All three perk up, eyes wide with curiosity.
“Spill!” Ning demands, leaning in closer.
You hesitate, the weight of the day’s revelation pressing down on your chest. “We’ll only be in Dream until we turn twenty. After that, the guys will join other subunits. But me . . .” You shake your head, still trying to process it. “They want me to lead a female NCT unit once I’ve graduated.”
The room erupts into cheers.
“That’s amazing!”
“You’d be so good as a leader!”
“Maybe we’ll be in NCT with you one day!”
You try to imagine it, being in a group with the girls, and the thought brings a small smile to your lips. You find, a part of you yearns for it, the feminine concepts, the pretty makeup, long hair.
Still, the faint pressure in your chest persists.
“It’s . . .” A mountain of responsibility. You’re supposed to be what Taeyong is to 127? What Mark is to be to Dream? “A lot.”
Jimin wraps her arms around you, her chin softly pressing into your shoulder. “It’ll be alright. If the bigger picture is too overwhelming right now then just take it one day at a time, mhm?”
Gratefully, you pat her arm. “Thanks, Jimin.”
“Yeah, and honestly,” Ning says. “you’d be a great leader. I mean, look how much you’ve been helping us since we got here. We’d have been totally lost without you our first weeks here.”
You exhale, the tension easing just a little as you take a bite of noodles. Maybe they’re right. Maybe you can do this. Either way, you’re only fourteen years old. It’ll take forever for you to turn twenty.
“Actually,” Minjeong pipes up, “speaking of you being a great senior and all, I’ve got a question about this song I have to dance to during my next evaluation.”
You snort. “Sure, shoot, kiddo.”
She scowls. “Don’t call me that! I’m literally older than you!”
You stick out your tongue at her. “But I’m your senior!”
The girls dissolve into laughter, and your earlier worries are momentarily forgotten as you feel yourself being drawn into their carefreeness. For a while, everything feels light as you eat your ramen in secret, and stay up talking when you should really rest. For a while, everything feels like it might actually be okay.
But deep down, a small voice whispers otherwise.
Because nothing is ever that simple.
August 24, 2016
What must it feel like, standing on stage for the first time? Performing in front of so many people?
The air is heavy and thick with summer heat, clinging to your skin as you stand on the rooftop of the dorm building. You look down at the glowing streets of Seoul, the skyscrapers digging high into the sky, the cars weaving their way through traffic– the city is alit and alive even at this late hour.
Tomorrow is your debut.
The thought feels surreal, even though you’re mere hours away from it becoming reality.
Moving out of the trainee dorms had been bittersweet. You were happy to leave behind the cramped, dimly lit halls where you couldn’t take a single step without bumping into another trainee, instructor, or staff member. Sleeping, eating, training, practicing– all within the same few walls– had left you forgetting what fresh air felt like on some days, like all there was to life was being a trainee. It felt good, getting some distance between you and the SM building.
But leaving the girls . . . that part had been hard.
Living with them had been like having sisters. The day’s tension would fall off of you when they’d put bright clips in your hair, accompanied by stories about their days, and you’d laugh the kind of laughter that made your belly ache. You already miss that warmth, even though it hasn’t been that long.
But this is where you’re supposed to be now– your new home with Jaemin, Jeno, Jisung, Renjun, and the 127 members just next door.
Mark stands beside you, looking out into the night, the corner of his lips softly tugged up as he admires the sky. The quiet between you is comfortable, familiar. Ever since you moved in with the guys, the two of you have been coming up here every once in a while, especially at night. You’re not supposed to, of course, but the door to the roof is never locked, and you’re yet to get caught.
“Debuting,” you muse quietly, breaking the silence. “Does it feel magical? Exciting? Thrilling?”
“Terrifying.”
“Great, that’s encouraging. Thanks, man.”
Mark chuckles, his smile soft. “When we performed The 7th Sense for the first time, I thought I was going to pass out. I almost threw up, like, right before we went on stage. But then . . .”
He pauses, his eyes lit with a memory only he can see. “As soon as you’re up there, it’s like the world shifts. You forget the nerves, the fear– it’s just you and the music.”
“And a room full of people,” you mutter.
He pats your shoulder. “If you don’t focus too much on it, you can almost blend out the crowd but I don’t think you’ll want to. I think you’ll love it.”
“But what if they don’t care? What if no one cares? Or what if something goes wrong and someone– what if I fall off my hoverboard?”
Mark snorts, the sound warm and familiar. “First of all, nobody’s falling off anything. Second of all, even if something goes wrong, you’ll have us there. I’ll be there.”
That’s the first time it happens– that stutter of your heart. You glance away, caught off guard by the feeling, but not before he steps closer, gently taking your hands in his. Mark’s palms are warm, steadying.
“You know why?” he asks, his voice teasing.
You roll your eyes, smiling weakly. “Because where I go, you go.”
“Exactly.” He grins, squeezing your hands before letting go. “So let’s get some sleep so we’re well rested for tomorrow, yeah?”
You nod, guilt creeping in as you realize how late it is, and how important tomorrow is for both of you. But you’d been lying in bed for hours, sleep evading you as your thoughts spiraled. Tossing and turning, you didn’t want to disturb your fellow teammates, so you opened KakaoTalk, hoping to find one of your seniors– maybe Taeyong or Doyoung– awake. Someone who could give you advice, help you calm your nerves.
You hadn’t planned on bothering him, not tonight. But somehow, it was like he could sense you needed him. He’d called you, asking to meet him on the rooftop, to talk in person. You hadn’t told him, but somehow he just knew you’d worry about tomorrow.
When you reach the door to the Dream dorm, his voice stops you.
“Y/n?”
You glance back, meeting his warm, steady gaze.
“Congrats on debuting,” he says softly, the corners of his mouth lifting into a smile.
Your breath catches in your throat, “Thanks, Mark.”
There it is again, that stutter.
2017
“Who used my toothpaste again?!”
“Why did no one wake me? I literally just woke up!” Jisung whines.
“If I see anyone else in my purple boxers– my brand-new boxers, you disgusting animals– I’ll rip them off you, I swear to god!” Jeno barks.
Amid the chaos, you trip over the sleeve of your jacket while brushing your teeth with toothpaste that is totally not Renjun’s. Locking eyes with Jeno, you raise an eyebrow. “Don’t look at me. What the hell am I gonna do with your boxers?”
Before he can retort, the front door opens with a sharp creak.
Everyone freezes, mid-motion, as your manager, Lee Hyunseok, steps into the dorm. Silence. A drop of toothpaste plops onto the floor between your feet.
“Well, what are you waiting for?!” he yells. “Come on, the others are already in the car!”
Everyone scrambles. You spit the toothpaste in the kitchen sink, jam your feet into your sneakers, and bolt out the door.
Donghyuck, or Haechan as you’re still trying to get used to calling him, scoffs in mock annoyance as you all pile into the van.
“I mean, come on, guys. Is it that hard to make it out the door on time?”
“Says the guy I had to wake up three times before he got out of bed,” Mark quips, side-eyeing him.
Chenle grins at Jisung, who’s still furiously trying to flatten his bed hair. “Dorm life, huh?”
Jisung glares, swatting at his arm. “Easy for you to say.”
The car rumbles to life, and soon the hum of the engine lulls the first members back to sleep, while others scroll through their phones or slip into quiet conversations.
“I talked to Jaemin last night,” Jeno says, after a while, breaking the silence. “He says hi and not to worry too much about him. His back will be fine eventually, he says.”
“He must be in a lot of pain,” Jisung murmurs worriedly. Your brows furrow. He’s right. You should make sure to give him a call later.
Jeno nods, looking out the window. “Yeah. But he’ll be okay.”
The drive drags on, and you pull out your phone, opening SNS to check how people are reacting to your comeback. You’ve been promoting My First and Last for about two weeks now and you just can’t help yourself when it comes to checking online comments.
The top comments read:
“These kids are seriously so cute ㅠㅠ”
“Haechan’s voice is so bright and clear ㄷㅂ. He’s surely going to grow up to be a great singer!”
“Jisung is so adorable ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ”
And then:
“The little girl is cute but I just don’t understand why she’s there. No matter how I look at it, sooner or later this is going to cause trouble. Poor thing.”
Your stomach twists.
“Everything alright?”
Renjun’s voice startles you. You smile weakly. “Fine, just tired.”
He nods slowly, not quite convinced, but also not suspicious enough to prod further. “Want to have dinner together tonight? All of us, I mean. Chenle’s coming too.”
He turns to Mark and Donghyuck. “You guys could come over, too.”
“Sure,” the latter says, while Mark shrugs in agreement.
“Can’t,” you say. “Jimin and the others have their day pff today, and we’re getting food.”
Renjun sighs in exaggerated disappointment. “Fine. Ditch us for your trainee friends, then.”
“Jimin?” Jeno asks, his cheeks taking on a red tint.
“Yeah,” Donghyuck says, his grin pure mischief. “The pretty one you can never stop staring at in the hallways.”
“I don’t–”
“You so do! Every single time. Honestly, a blind person could see–”
Jeno lunges at Donghyuck, pinching his thigh while poor Jisung, caught in the middle, startles awake, his nap ruined.
“Agh! No! Stop! I didn’t mean– help!”
Shaking your head, you smirk at the chaos, but the moment is broken by a strange sensation. Someone’s watching you. You turn to find Mark looking back at you. He leans forward, his gaze warm but focused and before you can process it, his finger tilts your chin up, and he gently swipes his thumb across the corner of your mouth.
“You had toothpaste there,” he says, smiling the way he does whenever Renjun is behaving adorably.
You turn away, and pull out your phone, scrolling through the Naver homepage, but your eyes don’t read a single word.
⋆·˚ ༘ *
By the time you enter the SBS building, the sky outside is still shrouded in the quiet darkness of early morning. You shuffle to your green room, a sluggish group of sleepy children.
You stifle a yawn as you sink into the makeup chair, resigning yourself to the fact that, unfortunately, you landed at the top of the call sheet, meaning you're the first to get your hair and makeup done. This has got to be the third time in a row, now. How’d you manage to get so unlucky? Longingly, you look at the guys who, one by one, fall back asleep in your waiting room while you struggle to keep your head up in your chair.
Your stylist hums softly as she works, her fingers deftly curling your short hair into curls that are just a little more defined than your natural waves. The result is undeniably cute, but it’s not quite you. Still, you offer her a warm smile in thank you when she finishes.
You nudge Chenle’s shoulder gently. “It’s your turn.”
He stirs, groggy, rubbing at the corner of his mouth before dragging himself toward the makeup chair. You watch in mild amusement as he slumps into it, half-asleep, while the stylists chuckle and get to work.
Scanning the room, your gaze lands on the others. Jeno, sleeping with his head awkwardly resting on his shoulder; Jisung sleeping seated, Renjun resting his head on the other’s lap like a makeshift pillow; Mark curled up in the farthest corner of the couch, arms crossed, clearly intent on staking out his personal space. And then there’s Hyuck, one hand draped lazily over the other's knee, mouth slightly parted as he breathes.
The sight is too good to pass up. You snap a quick picture and send it to Mark, already anticipating his complaints about the other’s touchiness later.
You stretch, yawning. “I’m going to the restroom,” you murmur to your manager before slipping out of the waiting room.
The hallway is silent, save for the distant hum of staff preparing for the broadcast. You finish up quickly, eager to steal a few moments of rest before pre-recording starts. But just as you’re about to leave, the restroom door swings open.
And just like that, you know you’re not getting any extra sleep today.
“There you are!”
No bow. No polite greeting. No formality at all.
Lim Jiyeon, lead dancer and visual of Lunara, strides toward you with a little too much enthusiasm, her grip firm as she latches onto your arm.
She’s stunning, and she knows it. Of course, she does. She has the kind of beauty that turns heads in an instant, the kind that eliminates insecurity. Her tight blue dress accentuates her curves, her long, fiery red hair cascades in meticulously styled waves, and her makeup, kept in similar shades to the one of her hair, enhances her sharp features perfectly.
At just nineteen years old, Lim Jiyeon looks like a goddess.
And you hate her for it.
You pull out of her grasp, suppressing the urge to roll your eyes. This has been happening more and more lately. And not just with Jiyeon, but with other female idols, too.
“Please stop following me around. I told you, if you want to ask Mark out, you’re going to have to do it yourself.”
The boys are getting older. Where Jisung and you are still only fifteen, the rest of them are in the middle of their growth spurts, their voices deepening, their limbs stretching out.You feel like they grow another centimeter every week, and you have to strain more and more just to meet their eyes. Mark is seventeen now, his eighteenth birthday only half a year away.
Point is, ever since the year started, this has been going on. A love letter here, a phone number there. Whiney pleas of just this once and more aggressive demands of what else are you good for?
You can already tell it’s only going to get worse. Especially if she has anything to do with it.
Jiyeon’s saccharine smile falters, slipping just enough for you to catch the irritation underneath. This time her grip around your arm is harder. Harsher.
“You know I can’t just do that,” she says “And my staff won’t help me either, because my shitty company won’t let us date.”
“Well, we aren’t allowed to date, either. So either figure it out yourself or give up. Either way, leave me out of it.”
She scoffs, tilting her head. “Who do you think you’re talking to in that tone? I’m way older than you.”
You snort, unable to stop yourself. “Yeah, than Mark, too, by the way.”
She rolls her eyes, but a slight blush paints her neck red where it isn't covered in foundation. “By one year.”
Well, one year and three months, actually. But who’s counting?
She clicks her tongue, stepping closer. “Oh, come on, Y/n. Don’t be so uptight. Or is there some other reason why you don’t want to give me his number?”
You pull out of her grasp as if burned by her words. But you catch yourself quickly, your voice sharp. “You should really watch your mouth, Jiyeon. It would look pretty bad for you if rumors of an unambitious boy-crazy rookie who has a habit of disrespecting her seniors got out.”
Jiyeon’s nostrils flare but a spark of fear shines in her eyes, and you don’t quite like what it does to you, seeing her vicious facade crack, having the upper hand.
Though with her next words, you’re not so sure you’re winning at all, anymore.
“At least I don’t stand out like a sore thumb in my group,” she says, voice venomous. “You can cut your hair short, wear your little boyish outfits, sing in a lower key– but you’ll never really fit in. You’ll never truly be one of them.”
The words hit harder than you expect. Still, you swallow down whatever emotion threatens to rise, keeping your face blank.
Jiyeon smirks, satisfied, and with a sharp bump to your shoulder, she walks away. The door slams shut behind her, leaving you alone in the restroom. Your fingers curl into fists at your sides, her words a taunting echo on your head.
⋆·˚ ༘ *
“I’m going to get us some tteokbokki and fish cakes. Anyone want anything else?”
The air is crisp with the lingering chill of early evening, the sky painted in a soft gradient of deep blue and orange. Neon signs flicker to life along the street, casting a warm glow over the small crowd gathered around the vendors. The smell of sizzling oil, sweet soy sauce, and spicy gochujang drifts through the air, wrapping around you like a familiar embrace.
“Woah, look at you being all senior-y and feeding us,” Minjeong teases, flashing you a grin before adding, without hesitation, “One corn dog, please.”
“And some sundae,” Jimin chimes in.
“Ooh! And some dakgangjeong,” Ning says, practically bouncing on her toes.
You sigh dramatically, turning toward the street vendor, an older woman with kind eyes and a face lined with years of cooking in the open air. Her hands move deftly over the sizzling griddle, turning skewers of fish cakes and ladling bright red sauce over seottoek.
“Please tell me you got all that,” you say, only half-jokingly.
The woman chuckles, her warm eyes crinkling. “Don’t worry, dear. I got it. Still have to pay for it, though, I’m afraid.”
You click your tongue as fish your wallet out of your pocket, muttering to yourself. “That’s what you get for being the senior.”
As the vendor prepares your order, you glance at the three girls huddled together beneath the glow of a streetlamp. Their faces are illuminated by the shifting hues of nearby shop signs, reds, greens, and blues flickering over their features as they chatter amongst themselves.
It still amazes you how easy it is to be with them. You’d worried when you debuted that things would change, that distance and busy schedules would pull you apart. But your fears had been unwarranted. The girls contacted you regularly, excitedly asking about idol life and wanting to meet up whenever either of your schedules allowed. So these days you spend time together whenever you can, going out to eat cheap street food, to karaoke bars, or arcades.
The woman hands you your order, and soon enough, the four of you are walking toward Han River, hands laden with food.
“Gee, this is a feast,” you say.
“Damn right it is. Thanks for the food, senior,” Ning says and the other two echo her words.
For a while, you eat in comfortable silence, the only sounds the gentle lapping of the river and the occasional rustling of wrappers. Trainee or idol, the grind is the same, grueling and exhausting. Moments like this, where you can simply sit, eat, and breathe, are rare.
“That was so good,” Minjeong sighs, patting her stomach. “Once we debut and start making money, we’ll buy you so many meals, Y/n. I swear.”
You snort. “I’ll hold you to that. So make sure you get really successful.”
She salutes. “Aye aye, captain.”
You chuckle. “So, how are things going?”
“They don’t have debut plans for us yet,” Jimin says, her voice light, but there’s a shadow of frustration beneath it.
You frown. “You will debut. You guys are way too talented not to. I mean, come on, have you heard yourselves sing? There’s no doubt about it. You’re going to make it big. There’s no way around it.”
Jimin laughs. “You’re making it sound like it’s some inevitable, impending doom.”
You grin, pulling your mask back up after eating and your cap a little further down. Being outside without your manager, you’ve been warned to be as incognito as you can. NCT is not so popular yet that you get recognized often, but it’s better to be safe than sorry.
You spend some time catching up; Minjeong shyly reports about having placed first in the vocal evaluations three months in a row now, adding that some trainees can barely look at her now without their faces turning purple with envy. Ning talks about her parents visiting from China, how she cried when she saw them again after so long. The mention makes something in your chest tighten. It’s been a while since you last visited your parents down in Busan.
You shake your head, willing the thought away. Tonight is a happy one. You’re determined to keep it that way. When Jimin starts talking about a certain trainee she has a crush on, you almost, almost tell her about Jeno’s crush on her. But no, that wouldn’t be right. It’s not really any of your business.
“Is it hard?” Minjeong asks suddenly. She leans against you, resting her head on your shoulder. “Being an idol?”
You hum, thinking. “It’s exhausting. When your schedule’s too full, when you’re prepping a comeback while still promoting the last one, when you barely sleep because one day ends too late and the next starts too early.”
You shake your head, smiling. “But it’s worth it. Every second of it is worth it when you’re on stage.”
“What’s it like?” Ning asks, her voice almost reverent. “Performing?”
You smile, remembering how you asked Mark the same question the night before your debut.
“It feels like…” You close your eyes, trying to find the right words.
You see yourself on stage, feel the heat of the spotlight on your skin, the thrum of the bass shaking your body. The whisper of your in-ear in your ear, the choreography flowing through you. And the crowd, a blur of faces. Some singing, some smiling, some even crying.
“It’s electrifying,” you murmur. “Like all that matters is this moment, like life doesn’t exist beyond the stage. Time stands still and you’re one with the music. And if you’re performing in a group?”
They’re hanging on your every word now, yearning to maybe, just maybe, one day feel what it is like. You lean in slightly, voice softer.
“It’s the most fun you’ll ever have. Nothing binds you together quite like sharing a stage. When your eyes meet, even for just a second . . .”
You see Mark in front of your inner eye. That one moment during My First and Last, right before your part. You’re both crouched on the ground, hidden behind the others for only a second before it is your turn. He always smiles at you, the smallest tug of the corner of his lips, really, but it says everything you need to hear. I’m here. I see you. I believe in you.
“Anyone particular you have in mind?” Ning teases.
“What, no!”
The other lifts her hands in surrender, but she’s still smiling. “Alright, whatever you say.”
Silence stretches for a little moment but Jimin quickly fills it. “Oh, right! I almost forgot! I was wondering about your opinion on this rap that I’m practicing.” She pulls out her phone, and puts on a video she filmed of herself, and you gratefully take it, glad for the change in topic that you know is not entirely coincidental.
The night deepens, the city hums around you, and the river reflects the glow of streetlights like scattered stars on its surface. Laughter lingers in the air, warm and easy, wrapping around you like the soft comfort of an old song. You huddle together around Jimin’s phone, sharing earbuds to listen to her rap, laughing and just enjoying this precious time together.
2018
The faint light of dawn creeps through the window, bathing your dorm room in a soft glow. You shift under the blankets, lost somewhere in the blissful state between sleep and waking, cocooned in the warmth of your bed. The peaceful quiet is only broken by the faint hum of the AC, the calm before a day filled with hectic schedules.
Until the door bursts open.
“Happy birthday to you!”
You shoot upright, gasping as voices fill your room. Your first blurry sight is Jisung, grinning sheepishly, holding a cake that looks like it was decorated in the dark. Frosting is smeared unevenly across the top and a single, a little crooked, candle flickers precariously in the middle.
Donghyuck barges in behind him, singing louder than anyone else and gesturing dramatically like he’s an opera singer. Mark and Renjun are close on his heels, their laughter breaking through the song. Jeno stumbles in last, setting off a confetti cannon that makes you flinch.
“What is happening?” you ask, your voice still groggy with sleep.
“It’s your birthday!” Hyuck announces, as if you could’ve possibly forgotten. “Did you really think we wouldn’t do something?”
“I didn’t really think anything, given the fact that I was, you know, sleeping,” you deadpan, rubbing your eyes.
“That’s what you get for being in this dorm,” Jeno teases, plopping down on the edge of your bed and throwing an arm around your shoulders. “No peace allowed.”
As your vision clears, you realize they aren’t alone. Behind them, Taeyong, Johnny, and Doyoung stand, smiling adoringly at you.
“She looks so confused,” Johnny observes with a chuckle.
Taeyong steps forward, wrapping your sleepy figure into a hug. “We wanted to surprise you. Happy sweet sixteenth.”
Jisung carefully sets the cake down on your desk, and you can’t help but smile at the effort. “Did you guys make this?”
“Nope, bakery,” Mark confesses, but Jeno quickly cuts in, “But we decorated it ourselves! Don’t you think it’s artistic?”
“It’s . . . something,” you say diplomatically, hiding your grin.
“Come on, blow out the candle,” Mark urges, holding his phone up to record. “Make a wish.”
You lean forward, closing your eyes for a brief moment as you think of a wish, before blowing out the candle. A round of cheers erupts from the group, Jeno tossing confetti that lands squarely in your hair.
“Thanks, Jeno,” you mutter, plucking a piece of glittery paper from your bangs.
“Anytime,” he replies with a wink.
“Are we eating cake for breakfast?” Jisung asks hopefully, already reaching for the knife.
Your manager opens his mouth, but Johnny is faster. “Of course! You have to eat cake on your birthday.”
Someone brings spoons and chopsticks from the kitchen, and you all sit splayed across your room, eating from the cake. The room is filled with the sound of laughter and teasing. Jeno complains loudly when Hyuck smears some of the frosting on his nose, but then Johnny holds the other down who screams loudly as Johnny lets Jeno take his revenge on him.
“Hey,” Mark says softly, nudging your arm. “Happy birthday, seriously. I hope it’s a good one.”
“Thanks, Mark,” you reply, touched by the sincerity in his tone.
Before you can say more, Jeno’s voice cuts through the moment. “Let’s play a game to decide who cleans up after this!”
“Absolutely not,” Mark snorts. “You made the mess, you clean it up.”
“Seriously?” Jeno groans, looking over at you pleadingly.
You merely shrug your shoulders. “Don’t look at me. I’m the birthday girl.”
As the boys continue to tease and joke around, you can’t help but feel a warmth settle in your chest. They did this. For you.
That’s why your wish was to spend every birthday like this. With them.
⋆·˚ ༘ *
The months pass by in a blur of promotions and releases, and before you know it autumn is knocking on your door as you’re preparing for We Go Up promotions.
It’s late. Your room is quiet, save for the rhythmic ticking of the clock and the muffled noise of the city outside. Everyone else is asleep. Of course they are. Not everyone is as abandoned by sleep as you are.
How can your body be so tired but your mind wide awake? You’ve been tossing and turning for hours, yet sleep has been evading you.
Your comeback is right around the corner, and it haunts you. The unfinished details, the imperfections, the tiny flaws that only you seem to obsess over. The footwork of that one part of the choreo that still feels unnatural. The rap you struggled with during the recording. You’re a vocalist, and though you worked hard on your rap skills back in your trainee days, this is the first song that you’ve got a rap part on. You want to show people that you’re capable. You don’t want to sound like someone who’s not used to rapping.
You really just want this comeback to go well. Especially since it’s going to be the last one of its kind. Because it’s special. It just has to be perfect.
Abandoning the idea of sleeping, you pull out your phone. You open the chat almost subconsciously, your fingers hovering over the keyboard, hesitant. You really shouldn't bother him with this. It would be selfish, really. Yet . . .
You: You still up?
He doesn’t come online. Of course, he doesn’t. He must be asleep. After all, it’s 3:47 a.m.. The rest of the guys are long asleep by now; the dorm is too quiet for anything else.
It’s a bad habit, you know it is. But you go online anyway, scrolling through articles, clicking where you shouldn’t. Soon, you find an article referencing the We’re So Young teaser that was released earlier this year. The heading reads:
‘The Dreamies show a bold new image. Is this the new era of NCT Dream?’
You scan over the article. A more mature concept, daring undertones, rebellion of adolescence– this is not the part you care about. The comments, that’s what you’re here for.
“Woah, Lee Haechan is like the rebellious trouble maker in your grade that you can’t help but fall for.” 87 likes
You wrinkle your nose.
“How did we get from Chewing Gum to this?? ㅠㅠ Our babies are really growing up.” 500 likes
You chuckle.
“Is this what a mom watching her child become a teenager feels like? Wait, why do I feel like a mom?? I’m 18 years old! ㅋㅋㅋㅋ” 200 likes
“I still don’t understand why SM had to put one girl in a group of boys that would’ve done perfectly fine without her. The more often I see her, the more annoyed I get.”
307 likes.
Here we go.
You shouldn’t. You know you shouldn’t. But this comment has more interaction than any of the other ones and the See Reply button is right there, staring back at you, challenging you.
Go on. I dare you to.
Oh, whatever. You click on the button.
↳top reply: “That scene where she leans against Renjun conveys the wrong type of narrative. They look too fucking suggestive. It’s annoying.” 186 likes
↳reply: “i bet she’s dating one of them. there’s no way these hormone-filled teenagers are not developing feelings for each other…” 102 likes
↳reply: “Like what message are they trying to convey by having seven boys and one girl party while singing about how wild and freaky they are. What the hell. Just say you get freaky with each other atp” 75 likes
↳reply: “ㅋㅋㅋㅋ like we all know they’re somehow entangled behind the scenes. kids at that age are horny as hell. they can cut that bitch’s hair as short as they want, no one thinks she’s one of the boys. like what do you take us for??” 45 likes
↳reply: “seriously no one wants this bitch to be in dream. i wish she would just fucking die– ”
You almost drop your phone as your ringtone goes off, Mark’s caller ID appearing on your screen. Your hand trembles as you pick up the phone.
“H-hello?” You clear your throat, and this time your voice comes out more stable. “Mark?”
“Are you okay?”
You swallow. The words are still there, burning in your chest, tightening your throat. How could someone write–
“What? Yeah! No, yeah.” You wipe the back of your hand over your eyes. “I just . . . can’t sleep.”
It’s silent on the other line for a moment, then. “Can you sneak out?”
“Oh, you don’t– I mean I shouldn’t even have texted you. You should sleep–”
“Y/n.” His voice is firm. “Can you sneak out?”
Your manager sleeps in the room next to yours. But he’s a heavy sleeper. Besides, it wouldn’t be the first time . . .
“Meet you in five?”
You hear a soft scoff. “You got it.”
You slip out of bed, grab a cardigan, and tiptoe to the door. It creaks treacherously as you open it. You freeze, holding your breath. Please, don’t let your manager wake up. Anyone but your manager . . .
Nothing.
You exhale and step out, slipping into your slippers before easing the front door open. The night air is cool against your skin.
“I was starting to think you’d fallen back asleep.”
You spin around, gasping loudly. A warm hand clamps over your mouth instantly. Mark. His palm is warm and firm against your skin, his fingers curving gently along your cheek. Your wide eyes meet his, and you freeze, suddenly hyper aware of how close you’re standing.
“Quiet,” he whispers, his voice low and urgent. “Do you want us to get caught?”
You both glance at the dorm door. It stays shut.
Slowly, he removes his hand, but the heat of his touch lingers on your lips. You exhale shakily.
“You scared the shit out of me!”
He grins. “How was I supposed to know you were going to shout the house down? Jesus, this is the four a.m. incident all over again.”
You swat at him, but he dodges, laughing softly. “Maybe ‘cause you snuck up on me like a ghost!”
You flail your arms around, gesticulating wildly before you snort, too. “Come on, let’s go before we get caught.”
You make your way up the stairs, passing the 127 dorm on your way. By the time you push through the door to the rooftop, the night air is a refreshing reprieve from the exhaustion of climbing– there’s no elevator in your building. Mark seems to think similarly, closing his eyes as he tilts his head back, letting the cool air wash over his skin.
“Climbing up here never gets easier, does it?”
“Nope,” you bring out between pants.
Light from a nearby streetlamp casts shadows of his lashes on his cheeks, dense and dark, framing the sharp angles of his face. Over the last few months, his cheekbones have grown more pronounced, his cheeks slimmer, his jaw sharper.
Mark Lee has really grown up.
“Wait– what are you doing?”
Mark shrugs before climbing onto the higher part of the roof where the railing is bolted, standing just before it. The sight makes your hands twitch with the urge to pull him back down.
“Might as well properly enjoy the view, don’t you think?” he asks.
“There’s a fine line between enjoying the view and becoming the view, you know?”
You still come up here a lot, especially on nights when you can’t sleep. You and Mark are alike in that way– where small worries morph into giants under the cover of darkness, where thoughts spiral, heavy and unrelenting, until your whole body is alight with restless energy that only the open air can extinguish.
Mark smirks at you over his shoulder. “Scared?”
To anyone else, he might look carefree, but you know better. You see the tightness in his jaw, the way his shoulders hold tension. Looks like you’re not the only one struggling to find sleep tonight, after all.
“You should really come down,” you say,
He snorts, but there’s a breathlessness to his voice. “How about you come up instead? Come on, give me your hand.”
You hesitate, one breath, two, then relent with a begrudging huff. “I swear to god, Mark. If we make headlines as the first two idols in the history of K-pop dumb enough to fall off a roof, I’ll haunt you in the afterlife for all of eternity.”
This time, his laugh is real, and the sound of it eases your own anxiety a little. You reach up, fingers tangling as he pulls you onto the ledge.
The momentum brings you closer than expected, your face mere inches from his as you steady yourself with a breathless laugh. Heat climbs up your neck and you turn away, thankful for the dim light. As you shift, your shoulders brush but he doesn’t make to move away so you don’t either, the warmth of his arm against yours steadying. Welcome. And suddenly the night almost doesn’t feel so bleak anymore.
“So, this is it. My last comeback with you guys.”
Almost.
Somewhere in the distance, a car honks loudly, the sound ringing shrilly in the silence between you. And suddenly it hits you that tonight may be the last time you stand up here together, as groupmates.
“What am I going to do without you?” You mean to say it in a joking way, but your voice wavers.
Mark’s eyes widen as he catches the shine in yours. You look away, sniffling.
“Hey,” he says softly. “You’ll be fine.” He tugs at your sleeve, coaxing you to meet his gaze. “It’ll be fine Y/n.”
You make yourself nod. “Yeah, yeah, I know. I just, I– We’ll miss you.”
He ruffles your hair, just like he used to when you were younger, and you groan, swatting at his arm. The sudden movement makes you both sway dangerously on the narrow ledge, and Mark’s arms shoot out, swiftly wrapping around you to steady you. Your breath catches as he pulls you closer, his lips parted in surprise that mirrors your own. He swallows, eyes darting around your features.
His voice comes out a little hoarse. “I, uh, I’ll miss you, too, kid.”
Kid. Right.
“I, uh, I should . . . go. Get back to bed.” You pull away from him, and jump down from the ledge.
“Uh, ye– yeah, right, yeah. Okay.”
You move quickly, and you’re almost at the door when he calls your name, making you stop.
You don’t quite know what to make of the expression on his face. “Whether I’m in Dream or not, I’ll always be there for you. Where you go, I go, remember?”
Your lips curve upward, just slightly, as if the motion might coax the feeling to follow. “Where you go, I go, Mark Lee.”
It’s the first time the words don’t feel true anymore.
It won’t be the last.
⋆·˚ ༘ *
You know something is wrong the second you open your eyes. Granted, it would be weirder if nothing was wrong, considering the fact that you’re waking up to your manager shaking you like a ragdoll and speaking at a volume that should be illegal at this hour.
You groan, swatting weakly at his hands. “If this isn’t life or death, I swear–”
“It might as well be,” he hisses, shoving his phone in your face. “Explain.”
You squint through sleep-swollen eyes at the screen, brain still lagging behind reality. Then suddenly, you’re very awake.
“What the hell?!”
“What were you thinking?! Was this yesterday?” You stare from the phone screen to your Hyunseok, back to the phone, back to your manager.
“I– we, I mean, we– we had no idea we were being watched! There was someone there?!”
The phone trembles in your grip as you scroll through the images, your heart flapping wildly in your chest. It’s a post on twitter, made by an account with no face. Pictures. So many pictures. Of Mark and you on the rooftop, last night.
Him helping you up the railing. You standing shoulder to shoulder. Mark with his arm around your waist. You looking at each other.
This looks like a fucking Dispatch article, only that it isn’t, which makes it even worse.
Seeing your alarm, your manager’s features soften a little. He runs a hand over his face, sighing. “We’ve already informed the police of the sasaeng. They’ll do their best, but the profile looks like a throwaway account . . .”
Which means nothing will come of it.
You stare at the blurry, grainy silhouettes, barely distinguishable against the dim streetlamp glow. It’s hard to make out details, but to anyone who knows the two of you, it’s obvious.
And all this with your comeback right around the corner.
“I’m so sorry,” you whisper. “I didn’t mean for this to happen.”
Your manager sighs but his voice is not unkind. “Did something actually happen? Because this is already causing a huge stir onl–”
“No!” you blurt out, too fast. Then, calmer, “No. We were just talking, I swear. These were just taken at the worst possible moment.”
He studies you for a beat, then nods, slapping his thighs as he stands. “Alright. I’ll go call the company so they can put out a statement. Go get dressed, we have to get you guys to your dance practice.”
The man opens your door and–
In stumble Renjun, Jaemin, Jisung, and Jeno, mischief and barely contained curiosity sparkling in their eyes. Your manager looks from them to you, sighs and shakes his head. “You talk this out amongst yourselves, I’m out.”
You think you hear him mutter something along the lines of I don’t get paid enough for this as he walks away, leaving you alone in what is now a makeshift interrogation room.
You groan, dragging a hand down your face. “Stop looking at me like that. It’s not what it looks like.”
“Shame,” Jeno drawls, flopping onto your bed. “You being with him might’ve given Mark a break from Hyuck’s constant affection.”
You scoff. “Yeah, right.”
Renjun and Jaemin settle beside you, and you scoot against the wall to make room. “So we don’t get to tease you two relentlessly?” Renjun asks, but there’s warmth beneath the teasing.
You sigh, resting your head on his shoulder. “Afraid not. Sorry, dude.”
“I’ll give it a few weeks.”
“Shut up.” You swat at his arm a little too harshly, making him wince.
Jaemin’s teasing smile fades, replaced with quiet concern. “You really didn’t see who took the pictures?”
You shake your head, jaw tightening. “We didn’t even know anyone was there.”
Jisung exhales sharply. “Mark mentioned sasaengs following some of the older members, but I didn’t think they’d care about us.”
“Assholes,” Jaemin mutters.
You hum in agreement, curling further into Renjun’s side as he pats your head comfortingly. You know you should get ready for practice but you can’t help but relish the moment. You sit with them until your pulse steadies, the weight of their presence grounding you.
Outside, the world is already catching fire. But for now, in the sleepy calm of morning, you let yourself breathe.
⋆·˚ ༘ *
The car ride to the SM building is thick with an underlying tension that even Jaemin and Chenle’s valiant attempts at conversation can’t quite dispel. Your manager is tied up in phone calls the whole way through, likely with whoever has the misfortune of handling this mess, while you and Mark haven’t exchanged a single word beyond quietly uttered greetings.
Every few moments, your eyes meet, and your lips part to speak, words on the tip of your tongue. There’s so much to say, so much to talk about, but this is neither the time nor the place.
When you arrive, your manager drops you off at the practice room before disappearing into a meeting that’s been called regarding your situation. You’re glad you haven’t been called in yourself but you can’t help but feel bad for your Hyunseok. Will he get in trouble for letting you sneak out? The mere thought makes your chest constrict.
Donghyuck’s voice harshly pulls you out of your thoughts. “Come on. We’re here to practice.”
You blink at him, thrown off by his unusually serious tone, and scramble to take off your jacket. Mark approaches you in the corner where you’re warming up, and you feel the others’ eyes lingering.
Great. Because this isn’t awkward enough already.
“Hey.” Mark bends down, stretching his back beside you.
“Hi.”
The silence is painful. You both stretch, looking anywhere but at each other, but then your eyes meet in the floor-length mirror, and you snort at the ridiculousness of it all. Mark exhales a half-warm, half-exhausted laugh of his own, and finally the ice is broken.
“Fun times, huh?” you deadpan.
“Fuckin’ fantastic.”
You sit down, stretching your hamstrings and he follows suit.
“Did you get in trouble for sneaking out?” he asks.
“Nah, I think they’re too busy dealing with the pictures to care.” You shrug. At least something good has to come out of all this, you suppose.
“Yeah, works for me, honestly,” he agrees.
You let out a quiet huff, but it feels forced. You sigh. “Look, I’m really sorry. This all happened because I asked you to meet up.”
He shakes his head. “Don’t be. I was up worrying, too. I almost called you myself before you sent me that text.”
“Yeah?”
Of course, he was. You were so caught up in your own dread that you hadn’t stopped to think about how he might feel. He was the one comforting you when it should’ve been the other way around!
Mark shrugs, but it’s stiff, too deliberate. “I was glad to get out of the dorms. Out of my head. I needed that just as much as you did. I don’t regret it, so don’t feel bad. This isn’t on you.”
You smile sadly. “I– ”
“Can we start practicing already, or are you two too busy getting into your next dating scandal?”
Mark frowns, looking towards Donghyuck, echoing your thoughts. “Dude, what the hell?”
“Everyone in position!” the other calls, ignoring the looks he’s getting.
“What the hell is his deal?” you whisper.
“He’s been acting weird all morning . . .” Mark mutters, his voice tinged with confusion and irritation. He shakes his head. “Whatever. Let’s just get in position before he starts shooting laser beams out of his eyes.”
Apart from the unnerving lack of Donghyuck’s usual playfulness, practice goes smoothly. You already have the choreo for We Go Up down, now it’s just a matter of perfecting the details, again and again and again.
But you can’t stop thinking about those damn pictures.
To think that someone was watching you the whole time . . . The mere idea sends a shiver down your spine. How could you not notice them? And why did they have to take those damn pictures exactly at that moment?! Just when Mark was holding you, his arm warm around your waist, his breath hitting your skin–
“Can’t you focus?!”
Startled, you snap back to reality, just in time to realize you’ve stepped into the wrong position and crashed straight into Donghyuck.
“I . . .” Words fail you. You’ve never seen your friend like this.
“Dude, calm down. It was a simple mistake,” Renjun interjects.
“Yeah, don’t talk to her like that, man,” Mark says.
Donghyuck glares at the latter, then scoffs. He doesn’t ask, he just grabs your wrist and drags you out of the practice room.
Your confusion slowly gives way to anger. “Look, I don’t know what your problem is, but you’re not gonna talk to me like that–”
“Do you have feelings for him?”
Your words die on your tongue. “What?”
Donghyuck’s face is unreadable. “You heard me. Do you have feelings for Mark?”
“I– Wha . . .”
“Come on, Y/n. I’ve seen the pictures. I’ve seen the way you were looking at him.”
“You didn’t see shit!” you snap. “The resolution is terrible. And those pictures were just taken in an inconvenient moment.”
He crosses his arms. “So you’re telling me there’s nothing going on between you two? You swear?”
There’s a deep crease between his brows. He looks . . . almost distressed. Why does the thought of you and Mark seem like his worst nightmare?
“Of course not,” you bring out quietly. “I swear.”
Donghyuck sighs, his posture loosening. “Good. Phew. That’s a relief.”
You narrow your eyes. “Certainly looks like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders,” you mutter.
“It just would’ve been a disaster. I mean, can you imagine? It would mess everything up. Our work dynamic, our friend group.” He laughs a relieved laugh and you smile a strenuous smile. “I mean, people are already tearing you apart onli– ”
He stops himself. Too late.
Your stomach drops. He knows. They know.
Hyuck’s eyes widen. “Shit. I didn’t mean . . .”
You scoff, eyes glued to the floor. “It’s not like you’re wrong.”
His hand lands on your shoulder. “Hey. Don’t listen to these people. They’re just idiots with no lives.”
You suppress a sigh. “I know. I know. It’s fine. I’m fine.”
He smiles weakly, pulling you into a side hug. “Sorry for being a dick.”
“Eh. I’m used to it.”
“Hey!” He grabs you by the nape of your neck, knowing exactly how sensitive you’re there.
You screech and freeze, uselessly clawing at his arm. “I was just kidding– Please! No! You know I hate this! I swear to god, I’m gonna punch you again, and this time I’m gonna break that stupid nose of yours.”
“Okay, okay, gee,” he relents, smirking. “Wait, what’s wrong with my nose?”
“Everything.” You stick out your tongue at him.
“Oh, shut up. I’ve got a great nose.”
He slings an arm over your shoulder, leaning on you as you walk back to the practice room. “Now that I think about it, I don’t know what I was so worried for. I mean, can you imagine? You with him?”
Through the glass door of the practice room, you spot Mark. He’s goofing off with Jeno, laughing in a way that takes over his whole face, that is so distinctly him.
“Yeah . . .” you murmur.
“Besides,” Donghyuck adds, “we basically grew up together. You’re like a little sister to us. That’d be weird as hell.”
“Right.”
Right.
2019
For years, you imagined what it would feel like, holding a concert for the first time. It’s every artist’s dream– to stand in front of so many people who love your music, who are moved by it, to become one with the music together.
You never thought you would feel so empty.
“Good work everyone, get some rest,” Chenle says as he slips out of the van. He’s the first to get home, seeing as he lives with his parents while the rest of you stay at your dorms.
“Mhm, goodnight,” Donghyuck drawls sleepily while the rest of you hum your goodbyes.
You went out to dinner after the concert– it was the finale after two nights of performing, after all, but you could barely get down any food. Overall, the atmosphere wasn’t very festive.
How could it be, without him?
You’d watched your friends cry on stage, feeling strangely hollow. You thought you would cry too. Expected to. Maybe even wanted to. But the tears didn’t come.
Instead, you just felt this gaping, aching hole in your chest. Like someone had taken a hot iron to your ribs and burned something essential out of you. The first two nights weren’t so bad, but tonight . . .
Performing, standing on stage used to feel magical. Tonight . . . Tonight it had felt like work. Your body moved the way you had trained it to, your voice sang the way it was supposed to, your mouth spoke the words you had memorized. But your heart, your mind, were far, far away.
The only time you got close to feeling anything at all was when you saw a sign in the front row:
You removed the wrong member! Bring back Mark! #dreamIS7
You froze. Just for a second. But long enough. The girl holding the sign met your eyes, unflinching, her expression merciless. You don’t dare to look up concert footage online. You don’t want to know if anyone caught that moment.
The five of you quietly say goodbye to Donghyuck before heading to your dorms with your manager.
“You want to shower first?” Jeno asks.
The question takes a second to register. One bathroom for five teenagers and one adult– it’s a warzone. You’ve lost track of how many times you’ve gotten into fights about who gets to shower first, especially after days of long schedules. Jeno hates feeling dirty and likes to shower as soon as he comes home. He never offers to let someone else go first.
So your misery is that obvious, huh?
You should say no. But you’re too tired to argue, and maybe a hot shower will help chase away the cold wrapped around your chest. You shrug. “Fine.”
You take off your makeup mechanically, not even bothering to check your reflection before stepping under the scorching water. The heat should be comforting. It should thaw out the numbness, ease the tension in your shoulders.
It doesn’t.
You removed the wrong member! Dream is seven!
You squeeze your eyes shut, as if that could block out the memory. But the girl’s hateful glare haunts you.
Fucking bitch. What did you ever do to her?
You quickly finish up in the bathroom, rubbing your wet waves with a towel. The only good thing about this god-awful haircut is how low maintenance it is.
Out of the bathroom, you tell the others you’re done, and enjoy the chaos that ensues after. Jisung yelps as Jeno yanks his leg, sending him crashing to the floor while Jeno sprints into the bathroom and locks the door behind him.
“Nice try, Ji,” you say drily.
Used to Jeno’s determination to get in a hot shower, Renjun and Jaemin didn’t even bother trying to beat him to it. They’re seated on the couch in the living room, phones in hand.
Renjun glances up. “Wanna watch a movie?”
You shake your head, avoiding his eyes. “Nah, I’m wiped. Night, guys.”
Jaemin regards you. “You su–”
“Yup. Night.”
You’ve turned around before either of them can question you. The door clicks shut behind you and you lean against it, sighing. Your mom. You need to call your mom. Then you can sleep, and this day can finally be over.
You grab your phone. It shuts off in your hand.
Dead.
Of course. Of fucking course.
You reach for your charger. It’s not on your nightstand. Not in your bag.
Agitation flares in your chest.
Maybe under the blanket? No. Beneath the bed? No. Desk? No.
You yank open your nightstand drawers, rummaging through them with jerky, uncoordinated movements. Where the hell is it?
Behind you, the door creaks open. “Are you okay?”
You don’t turn. “Fine. Just can’t find my fucking charger.”
Your hands tremble as you move to your desk drawers, breath coming in quick gasps. First one– nothing. Second– nothing.
The third– empty.
The fourth–
“Where the fuck is it?!”
The frustration slams into you all at once, violent and suffocating. You shove the final drawer shut– right into your thumb.
“Fuck!” Pain spikes up your arm, sharp and immediate, and suddenly, your vision blurs. Your breath hitches. A single sob rips out of your throat before you can stop it.
And then another. And another.
Jaemin kneels beside you, his hands warm on your shoulders, steadying. You don’t fight him when he pulls you in. You couldn’t if you wanted to. You just curl into him, pressing your face into his chest as the tears finally fall.
“Hey, it’s okay. I’ve got you.”
“I just– I just really need to charge my phone,” you sob. “My mom said to call her, but I can’t–”
He holds you tighter, his voice steady and calm. “I know. I know.”
The sobs keep coming, too big for your chest, too heavy for your ribs.
“It’s not fair,” you sob. “Nothing about this is fair.”
“I know.”
Jaemin’s warmth and steady presence pull you back, piece by piece, until the storm inside you quiets. He holds you until your breath stabilizes and the tears stop falling.
“I miss him, Jae,” you whisper.
A pause. Then, softly.
“I know. Me too.”
⋆·˚ ༘ *
You still remember the rush of excitement you felt just before going on stage in your rookie days– it felt like the climb to the peak of a rollercoaster, your heart pounding with electric anticipation, ready to soar the moment the drop came.
These days, performing feels like being on that same rollercoaster– except it’s rickety, the safety bar doesn’t quite latch, and instead of a thrilling drop, the rails just vanish halfway through, leaving you plummeting into the void.
You used to love pre-recordings. Breaks between takes always used to be fun because you got to interact with fans. You’d ask each other questions, like ‘have you eaten’ and ‘do you have work tomorrow’. You’d joke around with the members, basking in the joy of performing, knowing that for those few moments, you were the reason for the smiles in the crowd.
People still cheer loudly whenever you guys step on stage these days, but it’s obvious that you’re not exactly their favorite.
The other guys get bombarded with questions, their jokes met with raucous laughter. When you try to interact with the fans, people barely react. When the guys sing, the fans scream. When it’s your turn, the crowd quiets, waiting for the moment to pass.
Not that you have many lines to begin with.
In your early days, producers had no qualms giving you parts. Your voice, huskier and deeper than most girls’ your age, blended well with the guys’ boyish tones. But as they’re getting older, their voices are gradually shifting from high and youthful to smooth and more mature, while yours has stayed distinctly female. And now, apparently, that’s a problem.
Idiots. What did they expect? That they’d just cut off your hair and you’d magically turn into a boy?
Still, you do your best. You make sure your lines, limited as they are, carry impact. You give every dance move your all, make every expression count. But no matter how much effort you pour into it, it doesn’t feel the same.
Performing has simply lost its magic.
So you try to treat it as a job. A job that you know, deep down, you’re capable of loving again. Even if, right now, that job entails being judged and criticized for every little mistake, and if there are none to be found, some are simply made up.
You remember a comment you saw while scrolling on your phone on a movie night you had with the others the other day.
“She is such an attention-seeker, honestly! Look at her overdancing!” 81 likes
That’s how it always starts. One small comment. Rude, and ridiculous, sure, but not yet crossing the line.
You felt bad, half-distracted while everyone else was actually enjoying themselves. Especially since it was the first time in a while that all eight of you, Mark and Hyuck included, managed to get together outside of work. But no matter how much you tried to focus on the screen, your fingers kept itching to scroll, to check just one more comment under your most recent Inkigayo performance.
“Her voice doesn’t suit Boom. It ruins the vibe.” 102 likes
“At least she’s ugly ㅋㅋㅋ” 67 likes
↳”true. none of the guys could ever be interested in her right????” 52 likes
↳”She’s gained weight too. She looks so fat now.” 34 likes
You frowned. Had you gained weight?
A joke from the movie made Jisung burst out laughing, and you smiled faintly, but you barely noticed what was happening on screen. You were curled up in the corner of the couch, phone in your lap, scrolling, scrolling, scrolling.
“why is she even still in dream? just to fuck the guys I bet ㅋㅋㅋㅋ” 88 likes
“The bitch should just kill herself!” 45 likes
“What the hell?”
You barely had time to react before Chenle snatched the phone from your grip and tossed it to the other side of the couch. Your hands reached for it instinctively, but he tugged you back down before you could stand.
Your fingers ached. Only then did you realize how tightly you’d been clutching the device.
“Hey!” you wiper-shouted, trying to shake him off.
“Don’t read shit like that,” he said, firm. “I mean it, Y/n. These people would never say that stuff to your face. They’re pathetic cowards, that’s all.”
His words should have helped. They didn’t.
Because you weren’t stupid. Of course they wouldn’t say it to your face. But they thought it. And that was bad enough.
It’s all because of the damn shipping.
You didn’t think much of it at first, just thought people were excited about the choreography for Boom. But then one particular part where Jeno and you stand back to back, leaning against each other became fuel for something else.
Suddenly, every glance, every interaction, every accidental moment was overanalyzed, twisted into some kind of proof. People made entire threads and video compilations of you interacting, spinning ridiculous tales about you two.
It got bad enough that you decided to alter the choreography, to avoid the move entirely. But that, ironically, only made it worse because people took it as some kind of admission of guilt.
At first, you’d laughed the whole situation off. Ridiculous rumours about you and the guys have always existed, but this time around, it’s on a whole new level.
The tweets. The edits. The explicit posts detailing exactly what people think is happening in the NCT Dream dorms.
So yeah, it didn’t take long for your laughter to die, for irritation to fester, for disgust to settle in.
Meetings even had to be held. Official discussions about your behavior, how you needed to be careful, how you shouldn’t act too close to the guys in public to avoid feeding into these types of narratives.
Do you know how humiliating it is to sit in a meeting with the people you think of as family, having to hear which one of them you get shipped with the most and being told to act more distant to them?
Like this is your fault.
Like you have control over what people chose to project onto you.
Jeno had been the first to speak up. “It’s not our fault people are being ridiculous! Seriously! She’s like my sister!”
But it didn’t matter.
None of it mattered.
Because people would believe what they wanted to believe, no matter what.
At least when there were rumors about you and Mark last year after your pictures got taken, you knew with his impending graduation from Dream, the whole thing would inevitably blow over.
But this?
This is so much worse.
Because at the end of the day it’s you the fans punish for their own twisted minds. With their silences, with their stern faces, with their comments.
But you’re not going to drag your team down because of it.
You get through your pre-recordings, then run through interview practice. So what, if they don’t want to see you on stage? At the end of the day, it’s you living their dream. It’s you who’s successful. You’re winning.
Are you, though?
2020
This day will brand itself into your memory. You don’t know it yet but you will spend minutes, hours, days at a time agonizing over it while you stare down the bottom of empty soju bottles, wondering just where the hell it all went wrong.
But we’re not there yet.
“I can’t believe this is happening!” Chenle says, skipping excitedly out of the elevator into a corridor of the SM building.
“We don’t even know if anything is happening,” Mark counters, measured and cautious.
You get it. You want to be excited too, but it’s easier to brace for disappointment. This could be nothing. There might not be a particular reason why all eight of you are asked to come in for a meeting. This could be nothing.
Or maybe, just maybe . . .
“Nope,” Donghyuck declares, grin wide. “Chenle’s right. I just know it. We’re getting you back!”
The corner of your mouth tugs up but your mind is a storm of questions.
If Mark comes back to Dream, does that mean no one else will graduate? You’ll all stay in Dream? The thought settles warmly in your chest. Maybe that means that female NCT unit you were told about all those years ago isn’t going to happen. Or maybe it is still happening, and they’ll have you be in both units simultaneously the way Hyuck is in Dream and 127. The thought of being in a girl group was always exciting to you but working with the guys is all you want, really.
It hasn’t been easy these past months– the hate you’ve been receiving hasn’t stopped. If anything, it’s gotten worse. Sometimes you’d get so sucked in, hours would pass of you just scrolling through comments at the dorms, until your chest would tighten and you’d start gasping for breath. You managed to hide how much it was all getting to you for a while but one evening Jisung found you on the bathroom floor, crying as you sat with your knees pulled to your chest. The guys made you delete all social media after that.
But even then, people still made their disdain for you known with signs aggressively waved at you, and curses screamed at you. Of course, not all of them are like this. Just yesterday, a girl screamed ‘I love you, Y/n! Don’t listen to these idiots!’ as you were leaving an event. Not everyone hates you, you keep telling yourself. But it’s not that easy to focus on the people who support you warmly when the ones who hate you seem to scream loudest.
You fall back a step, watching them, taking the moment in. Donghyuck clings to Mark, who tries in vain to pry him off. Chenle and Jaemin bicker. Jeno and Jisung talk quietly, heads bent together. It’s an ordinary scene, one you’ve seen many times. But somehow, today, it feels different. Special.
You find yourself smiling weakly. As long as you’re with the guys, you’ll be fine. As long as you have them you’ll be just fine.
The conference room is bright, white, clinical. The overhead lights hum faintly, casting shadows under your manager’s eyes as he sits, stiff-backed and silent, at the opposite side of the table. The others don’t notice, too caught up in their excitement, but your stomach twists.
Something is wrong.
You flinch as a hand finds yours under the table. Mark, his grip tense, his jaw tight. So he’s feeling it, too.
“What is this?”
The words leave your mouth before you can stop them. Your manager doesn’t meet your eyes. That’s when you know.
The air immediately feels heavier. That’s when you notice the other three figures across from you: a creative director, his assistant, and a representative you know to be from the NCT management team. You recognize her as the one who first told you, years ago, that you were to be a part of Dream.
Your fingers find the silver ring on your hand, one with a small blue stone embedded in the middle– cheap, from a flea market you’d wandered through with Renjun. You turn it around and around, the metal warm from your skin.
The woman smiles, polished and practiced. “We are gathered here today to go over some changes regarding NCT Dream.”
Chenle practically bounces in his seat. Jisung grins.
“We are planning to turn NCT Dream into a fixed unit. The age-graduation system, as you know it, will be abolished.”
The room stills. You feel your lips par in anticipation, feel yourself lean forward.
“We are pleased to announce that Mark will return–”
She doesn’t get much further. The boys erupt into cheers. Donghyuck jumps up and presses a dramatic kiss to Mark’s cheek, before the other shoves him away with so much force that Hyuck almost falls out of his chair. Chenle and Jaemin are half out of their seats themselves, Jisung and Jeno grinning wide. The air is electric, charged with laughter, cheers–
Mark squeezes your hand.
You make to pull away, but he doesn’t let go. He’s not smiling. You see it then, the tension in his shoulders, the weight behind his gaze. He knows, too.
You hear, distantly, the woman talking through the logistics of Mark’s return, how he won’t join the upcoming album promotions, since you already prepared it without him. She goes on but her words don’t register because your blood is roaring in your ears and your heart is trying to drill its way out of your chest.
“Lastly,” she says, eyes finding yours that are somehow already filling with an ocean, “there is one more thing we need to discuss.”
There it is.
She hesitates. “I think it’s best we discuss this privately–”
“Just say it.”
Your voice is sharp, slicing through the room. She has the decency to look a little uncomfortable with your tone. Good. If she’s going to shoot you she should at least get a little blood on her hands.
The laughter dies. The others glance between you, confused.
She hesitates, draws in a breath. And then she says it.
For a second, there’s only silence, like the moment after a gun goes off, when the world is still catching up to what’s just happened. Then the pain sets in, sharp and searing, spreading through you in waves. You try to steady yourself, but it’s already too late. The damage is done. The others are speaking, one over the next, but their voices are warped, distant, as if you’re under water. You press a hand to your chest, half-expecting to feel the wound, the blood, something, anything, to prove this is real. But there’s nothing. Just emptiness where something vital used to be.
2021
The cramped apartment smells faintly of instant noodles and stale smoke– a lingering present from the last tenants, no doubt. You’ve tried to air it out, but the single window of your bedroom-kitchen-entryway is rusted shut, and the AC only wheezes out the same lukewarm air no matter how much you fiddle with the dial.
The walls are bare except where the eggshell paint has chipped away, exposing uneven patches of concrete beneath. You haven’t bothered decorating. The only splash of color comes from your makeshift workstation– a cheap wooden desk crammed into the corner, wires spilling haphazardly from your second hand laptop into your interface and microphone.
The screen blinks to life, and you stare at it. One minute. Two. It’s today. You knew this day was coming. How could you not? It’s been haunting you ever since they announced the date.
May 10, 2021.
You watch as your fingers type the password to unlock the screen, feeling strangely distant from them as you click on the link attached to the Youtube notification.
Now streaming: NCT Dream ‘맛 Hot Sauce’ comeback live
The seven of them sit beneath the stage lights, grinning and vibrant, talking to the host about their first album. Album. They’re releasing a full album.
Without you.
Renjun’s two-toned hair looks beautiful, and Haechan speaks animatedly, the audience hanging onto his every word, impatient for the premiere of the comeback song. Their energy is palpable, even through the grainy resolution of your laptop screen, and your chest tightens.
You remember what that felt like, sitting on that stage, feeling the crowd, proudly presenting your work to the world for the first time. You can taste it, that electric feeling, but it quickly turns bitter on your tongue.
They look happy.
You pick at your cuticles, relief and longing twisting in your chest, tangled so tightly you can’t tell where one ends and the other begins. It’s good to see them like this. Comforting, in a way. A little agonizing, too, like the warmth of a blanket you lost a long time ago. Renjun, Jeno, Haechan, Jaemin, Chenle, Jisung . . . and Mark.
Mark, his voice steady, his smile wide and effortless. He radiates a feeling that has become a distant relative to you. Joy.
You wonder if he ever thinks of that night. If the memory steals away all warmth he ever felt for you.
Your eyes flick toward your phone, bearer of guilt and regret. Hundreds of messages in there, some unopened, most unanswered.
One year. You haven’t spoken to them in almost a year. Not since . . .
The memory is too painful to bear.
How the fuck did you get here?
The question is a cruel assault to your sanity, it steals the breath from your lungs, and tightens your throat. You catch your reflection in the darkened window, your face twisted with something you can’t name. Resentment? No. If only it were that simple.
Your hands curl into fists, nails pressing into sore, picked-apart skin. The urge to close the laptop, to shut it all out, is overwhelming. Instead, you push away from the desk and head to the kitchen. The stream plays on behind you, their voices filling the silence like ghosts of a past life.
The tiny kitchen barely fits a fridge and stove, but at least you aren’t stuck in the trainee dorms anymore. Those fluorescent-lit hallways, the shared rooms that reeked of sweat and failure. No, this place is better. You lean against the counter, staring into your mug of cold coffee. Well, better is relative, though.
Sniffling, you shuffle back to your desk, but your reflection in the microwave makes you halt. At least your hair is longer now, falling just past your shoulders in soft, messy waves. That’s . . . something.
You scoff grimly. How ironic. For years, all you wanted was to grow out your hair, but now that it has you find you don’t care at all.
Because what the fuck does it matter now?
Back at the desk, you close the stream. You can’t watch anymore. Not because you’re not happy for them– you are, you truly are– but because it all just hurts. It hurts to see them happy, to see them thriving, while you’re stuck in this shitty apartment, watching from a distance.
You should be there with them. You should be standing on that stage, but instead . . .
Instead, you plug in your headphones and open your DAW. The demo file stares back at you, half-finished lyrics scattered across the desk and floor around you. Making music is the only thing that keeps you from falling apart these days. The only thing you seem to know how to do.
It isn’t much– a USB of raw vocals, half-realized beats, scribbled verses. But it’s yours. It’s you. Your pain, and anger, and hope, and grief. And maybe, just maybe, it could mean something, someday.
For now, it’s all you have.
For now, it’s how you survive.
masterpost | ONE | TWO | THREE | FOUR | FIVE | SIX | SEVEN | EPILOGUE
| pairing: Poly!7Dream x sub!Jisung x Dom!gn!Reader
| warnings: 18+ MDNI. NSFW link. Orgy activities. MLM behavior. Corruption kink. Bondage. Nipple play. Forced orgasms. Overstimulation. Two instances of tickling (I’m personally not into tickling, but it was applicable here…… This won’t be a common thing in my fics tho).
| words: 3.6k
| aurora's note: squad, this was supposed to be about 500 words max......... idk what happened........... for my followers, this goes into the sooah au... for those who are new, welcome lmao <3
"You can hold my hand, baby, it's okay."
Jisung could be frustrating from time to time. His dedication to his job made it difficult to find free time where all seven boys and yourself were available to hang out and spend quality time together. The boys were always so busy... Mark and Haechan were out of the country more often than not, and with 127 schedules going on the back burner, the Dreamies were so busy that they were hardly home with you anymore, and that sucked-- It hurt, and they all knew that. When they were home, they tried to make the most of it, showering you with love and attention so that you had enough love in your heart and good memories to last until the next time they'd be able to hang out with you. But Jisung... He was pressuring himself too much again, constantly practicing around the house, going to the office on free days for extra help from his vocal coach or his choreographer, and he was at the office before the boys' schedules then stayed late past their schedules. You hated that. It felt like he was choosing to work instead of being with you and the boys, because he was going out of his way to work and rehearse instead of taking a break to relax in your arms or playing video games with Haechan.
“He’s been at it for two hours,” Jeno complained, wiping his palms over his face as he sighs. “How’s he not exhausted yet?”
The boys had practice starting in the morning, so of course Jisung headed out early, and they finished practice around 6PM, but Jisung stayed until 8PM when his choreographer finally sent him home… At which point Jisung continued practicing in the free room at the end of the hall. That had been his schedule for the past three days straight. The boys were sick of it. You were sick of it. While the seven of you were watching movies and tv shows together in the living room, Jisung was always upstairs, playing the same chorus over and over and over again—
“I’m going insane! Can we just tie him down or something so he finally fucking rests?” Haechan said, annoyed.
Even though he had been joking, it wasn’t a bad idea. Jeno perked up first because he was the one who was most eager to get Jisung to stop, and once he started looking around silently for back up, Mark and Haechan moved too, then Jaemin was at Jeno’s side. Chenle groaned as he stretched and mumbled, “Finally,” before pushing himself to his feet. The last two to give in were you and Renjun. The other boys’ reassurance to you were smiles they tossed in your direction as Chenle swung his arm over Renjun’s shoulder and started dragging him along upstairs while they conversed quietly in Chinese.
“I got the ropes,” Jaemin said.
“Grab the gag too,” Haechan commented quickly, just before Jaemin dove into his bedroom. “I’m sick of hearing him yap all night ‘cause he’s still wired with energy when we’re all exhausted…”
On your way to the extra room that had turned into a temporary practice room for Jisung, Jaemin gathered the materials needed for the night. Mark pocketed his phone as you all gathered outside of the door. He told the boys that he pulled a few strings so their practice the following day was delayed until after lunch, meaning they could have their fun and sleep in without worrying about any consequences.
“And this is why we love you, hyung,” Haechan teased. He wrapped his arms around Mark’s neck then started hanging off him. “What’s the plan?”
“I can distract him,” you offered.
“I can grab him,” Jaemin said, passing the ropes to Jeno.
As Jeno accepted the ropes, he contributed with, “I’ll tie him up.”
“And then what?” Renjun questioned.
“We tire him out,” Chenle replied with a grin.
With a series of nods from everyone standing in the hallway, you pushed the practice room door open to reveal the loud music Jisung was dancing to-- From downstairs, all you could hear was the obnoxious bass and the thumping of his footsteps, but the second you were in the room with him, the full force of how loud he was actually blasting the music suddenly hit you like a slap in the face. Once Jisung noticed you, however, immediately rushed to pause the music. His face was flushed from overworking himself all day. Sweat dripped from his dark hair, his glasses were all fogged up, and he was panting through his plump, swollen lips.
"Sorry, was I too loud?" he asked.
Well, the answer was yes, but that didn't matter so much with the boys anxiously waiting outside for their moment to jump him. So you shook your head and approached him. His blue hoodie was soaked in sweat, and his black gym shorts were barely clinging to his hips; you figured the safest place to touch him was his bare waist which wasn't too sweaty.
You shook your head. "No... I just missed you today... Wanted to hang out with you for a bit." When your cold hands made contact with his warm skin, Jisung hissed under his breath before gulping down his reactions. "Did you miss me?"
He nodded.
"You sure?"
He pouted and nodded some more. "I'm just really busy right now, I don't really have time to stop and--"
"And hang out with your partners?"
Jisung fell silent.
"It's okay," you cheered him up with a smile.
Jisung's eyes met yours again, giving you the perfect opportunity to kiss him passionately, your hands still glued to his hips so that he couldn't escape. He teased you by biting your lip. In return, you chuckled and started unzipping his sweaty hoodie to remove it from his body, which he surprisingly didn't protest to even though he was very adamant that he had no time to waste. In the midst of Jisung's habit of closing his eyes while kissing, the boys snuck into the room quietly, and you turned Jisung slightly so that his back was to the door, leaving all of his focus on you. Just as Jisung leaned further into your body and moaned into your mouth, Jaemin grabbed his hands that were headed for your hips.
"Wha--" Jisung pulled back. He looked around, confused, startled. "Hyung, what--" Despite Jisung's attemps to wiggle out of Jaemin's tight grip, his hyung was far stronger than him, making it impossible to escape. He looked at you for help with those big eyes of his.
Haechan approached and started kissing Jisung's exposed collarbone from behind until Jaemin rolled his eyes and pushed Haechan out of the way because he was in the way of their plan, which included Jeno stepping forward to help manhandle Jisung onto the floor so that all the boys could work together to hold him still while Jeno tied Jisung's wrists to his calves so that he was forced to sit down with his legs spread. Jisung whined and continued to thrash around. He asked silly questions and look around for help, but he was outnumbered. All of you were on the same page that he needed to let loose and that you were desperate to spend time with him, even if that meant restraining him to make it happen. To keep him quiet, Haechan took the gag he'd requested and he stuffed it into Jisung's mouth then secured it with the straps that wrapped around his head.
“Hyung, there’s duct tape in my desk drawer,” Jaemin said in Mark’s direction, prompting the eldest to hurry to his feet and scurry to Jaemin’s desk drawer. He dug around for a few seconds before returning with a roll of duct tape. Mark eyed Jaemin suspiciously. “It’s for wire management.” Jaemin took the roll and pulled the end up with his teeth before he began wrapping the sticky side around Jisung’s feet to keep him for kicking anymore. “And for tying Jeno up—“ Jaemin chuckled as Jeno reached over to smack Jae upside the back of the head. “Hey! It came in handy! Look!”
Jaemin patted his work then leaned back. All eight bodies in the room stilled as seven of you stared at the sight in front of you. Wow, Jisung really was handsome. Of course you knew that perfectly well already, but it was times like these where you were specifically reminded of it because there was a lull in excitement and all of the focus was put into every detail of who Park Jisung was. From his fogged up glasses, to his shirtless torso that showed off his hard work via his toned abs that he kept hidden from the public because he only ever wanted you guys to see all of him— He really was just a mini-me of Mark sometimes; to his erection growing in his gym pants, to the ropes tied expertly around his arms and legs… He was perfect. He was amazing. You needed him. Every inch of him. Always.
Haechan laughed as he tickled the bottom of Jisung’s feet to get the reaction he wanted where Jisung jolted, his body tensing, his eyes shooting wide, and desperate, muffled pleas were panted behind his gag. When Haechan did it again, Jisung’s feet fought against the tape, but he had nowhere to go. His struggle was in vain. That right there was the best part— Watching the moment he tried his best to free himself but couldn’t… Watching as all of his defined muscles worked in tandem to find a solution that would never appear.
Jisung pouted and slumped. His breathing was heavy thanks to Haechan who had riled him up, but also because he was anxiously watching all of you, waiting to see what you had in store for him.
“Do you remember what you said to me this morning before you left for work?” Jeno finally began the interrogation.
Jisung looked up through his lashes and vaguely shook his head. He was being extra cautious, you noticed. Perhaps he did remember but didn’t want to confess because it would only land him in more trouble— Or maybe he really didn’t remember and that was why he was so confused to have ended up in the position he was tied up in.
“I told you that you needed to say goodbye to everyone… That you needed to find a way to spend more time with us.”
Jisung gulped. So he did remember.
“And you said, ‘What does it matter?’”
The fear in Jisung’s face was nothing in comparison to the anger washing over half of the people standing in the room. He had said what?!
“Let me at him, hyung… I asked him to play basketball with me two days ago and he ghosted me,” Chenle said.
“You’re ghosting us now?” Mark questioned.
Jisung shook his head adamantly, his eyes pouting and his eyebrows raising like he was trying to tell you something, but it went unsaid.
“He talked back to me, so I get dibs,” Jeno said, which forced Chenle to back down. “But you can help.” Now that brought a smile to Chenle’s face.
Jisung squirmed some more as the audience closed in on him. Renjun went to his side first to ask something about safe words and if Jisung remembered how to put a stop to this even with the gag in his mouth. Jisung nodded. That seemed to ease both Mark and Renjun who were a bit uneasy about ambushing Jisung in the first place. Renjun shifted slightly so that he was at your side instead, leaving plenty of room for Jaemin to take his spot because his job was to try to keep Jisung still while Jeno took the lead and Chenle followed by sitting opposite Jaemin.
"Are these sensitive yet?" Chenle flicked his finger over one of Jisung's nipples. Jisung moaned and rolled his head back against the wall. "They are..." And he did it again.
Jeno ran his palm over Jisung's erection in tandem with Chenle's teasing, and when Jisung jolted upright and pulled against his restraints, Jaemin jumped into action by pressing his hand on Jisung's bare chest before pushing him against the wall. By the time you could bring yourself to pry your attention away from Jisung, Haechan was already kissing Mark who had his hands on Hyuck's hips to keep both of them steady so that they didn't fall back onto the floor. Hyuck was a bit aggressive. He was trying to sit on Mark's lap, but Mark fought by using his grip to roll over on top of Haechan who moaned when their crotches touched over their pajama pants.
Renjun whined beside you. He was looking for attention too but three of the boys were busy with Jisung, Mark and Haechan were busy with each other, and Renjun was getting hard watching everything happen around him. You pulled Renjun onto your lap and slid your hand under the waistband of his pants. He shifted slightly to accommodate your touch. You moaned into his ear once you got a hold on his cock, his pre-cum already leaking onto your hand; and he moaned in return when you used your free hand to hold his chin to make him watch what was happening in front of you where Jeno had fished Jisung’s dick out of his shorts and slowly started jerking him off. Jisung moaned happily.
Though he seemed to dislike being ganged up on and tied up, the fact that Jisung was finally being touched after you’d worked him up in the first place came as a relief to him. You matched Jeno's pace. Whenever he jerked Jisung off fast, you went at the same speed on Renjun-- Both of them wiggled their hips, Renjun struggling adorably in your lap-- and when Jeno slowed down, you teased Renjun's tip until he was begging you for more. Chenle contributed to Jisung by pinching his nipples over and over again as an added measure of stimulation to get Jisung off. Poor thing had incredibly sensitive nipples. All of you liked to take advantage of that because he made the cutest noises when his nipples were teased; but Chenle was doing it with the sole purpose of getting Jisung closer to the edge.
"Jebal--" Jisung moaned behind his gag.
Jeno pulled his hand away from Jisung's cock. While Renjun anticipated you to follow suit and was prepared to beg you to continue, you actually didn't stop touching him. He wasn't being punished like Jisung was. There was no point in edging him and torturing him, which came as a relief to Renjun who continued to moan your name and thrust his hips up into your fist. Beside you, Haechan and Mark were finally going at it like they were in their own world as they rubbed up against each other and Haechan was adjusting to ride Mark's thick thigh.
When Jeno restarted his motions, everyone else continued too. Jaemin and Chenle played with Jisung's nipples, you jerked Renjun off faster, and Haechan was biting Mark's bottom lip to pry more moans out of his hyung. Jaemin did something mean where he kissed Jisung's cheek to keep him distracted momentarily before he pressed his index finger over Jisung's sensitive tip to gather up some of his dropping pre-cum before smearing it over the gag Jisung was wearing.
"Jebal, jebal, jebal--" Jisung moaned as he came.
Renjun's body toppled forward, his hands on your knees, fingernails digging into your skin. "C-Can I--"
"Cum for me, sweet boy."
Jisung's body was still shaking through his orgasm when Renjun hit his peak too. As Renjun's cum leaked down your hand, Jisung's cum painted his stomach and hit Chenle and Jaemin's hands, and both boys were watching each other as content to really make their highs hit harder, as if they were watching porn or something. When there was nothing left to milk out of Renjun, you slowed down before wiping your hand on his thigh then pulling away entirely. He slumped against your chest. For a moment, he caught his breath while watching Jeno who didn't slow down or stop playing with Jisung. The poor guy realized what was happening just as his orgasm faded and the overstimulation began.
"Hold still, Jisung-ah," Jaemin cooed tauntingly with a tigher grip on their maknae.
"Some help would be nice," Chenle called over to you and the three other onlookers.
You inched forward with Renjun still resting on your lap so that you could corner Jisung even more to make it really noticeable that there was no escaping the nipple stimulation or the fact that his cock was still being played with after he'd made a mess. Jisung whined pathetically. He looked around for a savior, but the only two who could have been any help-- Mark and Haechan-- were still preoccupied with each other. You looked down to see Jisung's cum frothing between his straining cock and Jeno's pumping fist-- And much to your surprise, Jisung wasn't softening. He was still hard, and he was leaking cum bit by bit by bit.
Haechan finally sat upright. His brown hair was a mess, his cheeks were flush, and his cum left a wet spot in his pants, and there was another wet spot on his thigh where Mark had cum too. Both of them panted as they looked around to catch their bearings.
"You guys aren't helping," Chenle scolded.
"Sorry," Mark apologized, completely dazed.
Haechan and Mark crawled over to find empty spaces for them to squeeze into. Haechan, to have fun, tickled Jisung's feet again, which set him off with another serious of muffled moans before he opened his eyes long enough to glare at Haechan. That earned him a pinch to each of his nipples.
Jisung started squirming harder and whining louder the closer he got, almost like it was a warning to everyone in the room with him that he was about to tip over the edge if you kept messing with him. The only problem for him was… the seven of you knew exactly what you were doing. You wanted him to cum. Again. And then maybe again for good measure— And fuck it, another time after that. You wanted to pry as many orgasms out of him that his body could provide, and even then you were sure that you could get a dry orgasm or two in there for your entertainment.
Shaking his head, he mumbled behind the gag, "I can't."
You ran your fingers through his hair comfortingly as you cooed, “Shhh, shhh, shhh… You can hold my hand, baby, it’s okay.”
Jisung did just that. His hand grasped yours desperately— Well, he tried to find your hand but kept slipping to your wrist which he held with an iron-tight grip as his hips squirmed some more in an attempt to get away from Jeno.
“I’ve got you,” you said.
A loud moan echoed through the room as another orgasm was forced out of him. His cum leaked onto his chest in a pathetic stream which Haechan caught with his fingers so that he could have Mark clean it up. Both Jeno and Chenle worked Jisung through his second orgasm, Jaemin tried his best to hold him still, and Mark and Hyuck were back to kissing each other. To everyone's surprise, Renjun leaned forward on his knees to roll his palm over Jisung's sensitive tip.
"Hyung!" Jisung cried out behind his gag.
Jaemin put more pressure on Jisung's chest to hold him still for the last minute or so that they continued to bully him with overstimulation.
"Okay, okay," Mark said, pushing Haechan off him in order to catch his breath. He licked his lips. "We should get cleaned up."
"He has one more in him, hyung," Chenle complained, his fingers still playing with Jisung's nipples.
Mark observed Jisung for a moment. His body was slumped with exhaustion, his head braced against the wall, his eyes squeezed shut as he tried to bear the way Renjun was torturing his tip. He looked exhausted. After working long hours and practicing so much, you'd already milked the rest of his energy out of his body-- For lack of a better word. You pulled Renjun's hand away. When Jeno noticed, he brought his movements to a halt and shot Jaemin a look which told him to release Jisung who panted the second he was shown an ounce of mercy. Chenle, despite what he wanted, obeyed Mark's orders and your silent lead.
"Let's get him out of these," Hyuck said.
Everyone moved to undo the restraints. Jeno's knots were tight, but the ropes were loose around Jisung's limbs, making it easy to wedge the knots loose before untying them altogether. Meanwhile, you moved your weight onto your knees so that you could reach over the boys and take Jisung's gag out of his mouth. He gulped through a heavy breath.
"You okay?" you asked.
Jisung nodded tiredly. "Ne."
A wadded up ball of duct tape made its way into the trash in the corner, thanks to Renjun, and when he returned he had Jisung's water bottle in hand so that once Jisung was free he was able to take slow sips that Mark monitored closely.
"You did good," Mark complimented.
Jisung blushed. "Thanks, hyung..." He turned to face away from everyone.
"I'm going to get him in the shower. You smell disgusting," Jeno said.
"That's what rehearing for thirteen hours a day will do to you," Jaemin added.
Jisung set his water bottle down on the floor. "Okay, I get it, I need to relax with you guys more. I get it. I'm sorry." He hooked his arm over Jeno's shoulder, then on the count of three, he was lifted to his feet. He put all of his weight against Jeno because his legs were shaking and his body was exhausted from the overstimulaton.
You stood to kiss Jisung gently. "Sleep in my bed tonight?"
CONTENT — wc • 1.3k fem!reader. lowercased intended. established relationship, boyfriend nct dream 𐔌͡ㅤׅㅤㅤ✿ written with love by autum!
秋のメモ… ︵ ︵ ིྀ i did this for enhypen and i wanted to do one for the dreamies!!, likes and reblogs are always appreciated!, hope you enjoy!!
ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི 、MARK
˖ ་. SUPPORTIVE : mark would be the type of boyfriend who’s always there for you, whenever it’s cheering you on at a big event or giving you advice when you need it “ you’ve got this baby i know you do, and even if you don’t im always right here for you, okay?”
˖ ་. SONG WRITING : mark would casually write songs about you whenever, sometimes he wouldn’t ever realize it. “the melody kinda reminds me of you baby, soft , but it’s got this energy, you know dude?” he’d shyly play it for you later
˖ ་. PLAYFUL : he’d would love making you laugh with his jokes and silly antics which you loved about him. “baby, what’s cooler then me?, trick question… nothing!” he joked, breaking into his iconic laugh when you rolled your eyes, but deep down you really did love his silly jokes
ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི 、RENJUN
˖ ་. GENTLE AND UNDERSTANDING : renjun would always listen to you, offering thoughtful advice or simply being a comforting presence to you when you need it. “it’s okay to cry pretty girl, just let it out .. im here .. your still going to be my pretty girl even who you cry”
˖ ་. ART DATES : he’d take you to art gallery’s or painting classes, sharing his passion with you, and you had no problem with it because you always wanted to learn more about him. “look at this one pretty, it’s so beautiful. it reminds me of how you see the world”
˖ ་. SWEET SURPRISES : renjun would leave little notes for you to find around the house when he was away. “have a great day! you’re amazing pretty girl, and i love you” tucked into your bag
ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི 、JENO
˖ ་. PROTECTER : jeno would always make you feel secure. wherever it’s walking you home at night or carrying your bag when it’s heavy, he’d always put your well being first before anything. “you don’t have to do everything alone baby, let me help you” he’d say, giving you reassuring smile that instantly melted your worries away.
˖ ་. FITNESS BUDDIES : jeno would love including you in his workout, turning the exercise into a fun bonding activity for the both of you, “okay we’re going to do partner sit ups, don’t laugh when we mess up, please baby” he’d joke, laughing along with you as you both struggled to stay coordinated. afterwards he would reward you with kisses and hugs.
˖ ་. AFFECTION : jeno isn’t overly showy, but he’d express his love in small but meaningful ways, he’d drape his jacket over your shoulders without saying a word or he would hold your hand tightly when you felt nervous. “im right here with you baby” he’d whisper, making sure you had no doubts
ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི 、HAECHAN
˖ ་. FLITRY : haechan would be the boyfriend who keeps you on your toes, he’d constantly tease you in the most endearing way, loving how easily he could make you blush “you mad at me sunshine?, that’s cute but i know you love me” he’d say, smirking as he pulled you into a hug.
˖ ་. ENDLESS FUN : being with haechan would mean never ending outings with the two of you. from late night karaoke sessions to random road trips , he’d always find ways to keep things exciting “life’s to short to be boring sunshine.. let’s go make some new memories” he’d say, grabbing your hand and leading you on yet another date
˖ ་. TENDER MOMENTS : despite haechan’s playful nature, haechan has a deeply caring side. during quite moments he’d hold you close to his chest and whisper “you know i only tease you because i love you, right sunshine?, your my favorite person in the world”
ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི 、JAEMIN
˖ ་. ROMANTIC : jaemin would treat you like a princess, royalty, always putting your happiness first. he’d constantly would check up on you, asking “how was your day princess?, did you eat yet?, what can i do to make you smile princess?” his warmth and attentiveness would make you feel incredibly loved.
˖ ་. DATES : jaemin would always and loved planning creative and fun dates, like trips to amusement parks or surprising picnic. on a roller coaster, he’d laugh when you scream and say “princess.. i didn’t know you were that scared!, don’t worry, i’ve got you” he’d hold your hand the entire time to reassure you.
˖ ་. PHYSICAL AFFECTION : jaemin would love any chance to get to cuddle with you. whenever it’s holding your hand, resting his head on your lap, or hugging you from behind, he’d always be close to you or finds ways too. “you’re so comfy, can we just stay like this, just for a few more minutes princess” he’d say, nuzzling into you with a contented sigh.
ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི 、CHENLE
˖ ་. GENEROUS : chenle would spoil you endlessly, surprising you with gifts or taking you to fancy dinners. “ what’s the point of having money if i can’t spend it on you baby?” he’d say with a cheeky grin when you tried to protest
˖ ་. MUSIC : he’d love playing piano for you, creating improvised melodies and instrumentals that reflect his mood. “this one is for you baby” he’d say, smiling as he played a soft, romantic tune. the way he looks at you while playing would make your heart melt
˖ ་. TEASING : chenle teasing would always be in for a good fun. “wow you’re so lucky to have me baby, just admit it” he’d joke, laughing when you playfully hit his arm. he’d make sure every moment with him was filled with laughter and joy, and you always did live the playful side of him.
ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི 、JISUNG
˖ ་. SHY BUT SWEET : jisung might be a bit reserved at first, but once he’s comfortable, he’d open up and he would show you his caring nature. “i was nervous about saying this, but.., you’re really special to me baby” he’d confess, his cheeks turning pink
˖ ་. FUN : jisung would love trying new things to you, wanting to spend more time with you, whether it’s just laying in bed just the two of you or cooking new recipes with you. “okay, let’s not burn the kitchen down now baby” he’d say laughing as you both tried to figure out a recipe together.
˖ ་. COMPLIMENTS : though jisung is shy, he would always find ways to express his feelings and how much he loves you. “you make me feel really lucky, you know that baby?” he’d say, looking at you with pure adoration.