#jaemin reader insert | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

guanana · 2 years

Text

sniff ♡ njm x reader – request

pairing: jaemin x reader

genre: pw(minimal)p smut, f x m, slice of life/established relationship au

word count: 7k+

smut warnings: explicit sex scenes, lots of sniffing & other sensory stimulations, sweat kink, handjob, thigh fucking, cum eating

author's note: yeah, yeah x2, yes, uh-huh, & ok yea you get the point — anyways, it isn't august yet but let's get jaemin month started!! >:D thank you anonnie for this cool request and for waiting so patiently i had fun fucking around w/ this one 🤭💓

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It was like a premonition, a hunch– foresight almost.

Either way, your suspicions regarding your boyfriend and his affinity to a particular sensory stimulation was right on the money. And in hindsight? You really should have just trusted your gut the moment you felt that something was up.

Not that you had a problem with it, anyway.

“Good morning, sweets.” A groggy Jaemin comes up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and bringing your back flush against his chest.

“Mm, morning,” You sigh blissfully when he delivers a kiss into your hair, lingering there for a hair’s breadth too long before sneaking a hand under your shirt to rub circles into your tummy. “You’re not usually up this early. What’s up?”

He shifts his attention from giving you kisses to what you were doing at the moment. Sticking his lips out in a pucker to point out exactly what he was looking at without having to let you go. “Those woke me up.”

And when you look down at the freshly baked cinnamon rolls that are resting on top of the stove, it all clicks. The brush that rests in your dominant hand is drenched with the cream cheese glaze, ready to be applied on top of the sickeningly sweet treat that floods the room with its scent.

“Just had a craving for them, I guess.” You laugh lightly. “They just need to sit a little, but I’ll put them on a plate for us in a bit. Want coffee with it?”

“You spoil me too much.” He grins.

“I think I spoil you the right amount.” You reply, twisting yourself out of his clutches to prepare both of your meals. Bending down to the lower cupboards, you pull out a frying pan. “Go ahead and set up the table. I’ll have the rest out in about ten minutes.”

You’re met with an interesting sight when you straighten out. It seems that your instructions flew right over Jaemin’s head when you caught him bent over at the stove. His face is impossibly close to the cinnamon rolls, and if you weren’t so caught off guard by the obnoxious inhale that he takes, you’d scold him to be careful. The noise that emanates from his nose is way too ridiculous, however. A snort accompanying the strikingly different expression he’s donning.

“Having fun there?” You ask rhetorically, yet a little skeptical as well.

His eyes widen when he realizes that you’ve been watching him, immediately standing back up and rubbing his nose with the back of his hand. “Sorry about that,” He gives you a nervous smile. “They just smell really good.”

Jaemin has always been on the sillier side. He’s the kind of boyfriend to suck your whole cheek into his big mouth, or to bite on the sleeve of your shirt to pull you in a certain direction. There was even this one time that he barked at you in public, but you only nagged him a little for that. So when you catch his eyes rolling to the back of his head, it really isn’t out of the ordinary for you.

Shrugging off any questionable thoughts, you simply carry on the rest of your morning like normal. Preparing a nice breakfast for the two of you topped off with your delicious baking. The two of you enjoy each other’s company in a comfortable silence, chewing away happily and planning out the rest of your days off.

——

The second incident wasn’t much worse, but again, hindsight.

“Jaemin?” You call out to your boyfriend when you catch him in your room. Flicking the light switch on to see him on all fours on the bed, you see that he’s got a fistful of your sheets. When he looks back at you, he’s scrambling away to meet you at the door frame. He has that same nervous and out of character expression when he tries to saunter towards you coolly. “...What are you doing?”

It takes a few beats too long to think of an acceptable answer. “Well, I just wanted to see if I could guess what laundry detergent you use.”

“Huh.” You squint your eyes at him.

“Is it Dawn?”

“No, Tide. But Jaemin–” You shake your head to ground yourself. “Why are you doing that?”

“It’s a… project.” He says slowly, and you could see the gears in his head working in overdrive. “Yeah, a project. For stats. I’m collecting data on people’s preferences for detergent brands.”

“And you chose to sniff my sheets when you could’ve just asked me, why…?”

Even when you and Jaemin were harboring unspoken feelings for one another, there was never a time during his courtship where he was nervous. He was always meticulous and sure of himself. Exuding nothing but confidence when approaching you. That’s why you’re starting to grow a little suspicious when his eyes dart left and right, unsure of how to go about his next moves.

“You’ve been working way too hard. Who am I to bother you when you’re resting and watching TV?” He quickly deflects, planting his hands on your cheeks to reassure you.

“It was just a quick question, Jaem. You should never be afraid to ask me anything. Plus, I don’t think the scent would still even be there.” You look past him towards your bed where he originally was. “Don’t judge me– but, I haven’t changed sheets in like, a month. There’s no way you could’ve guessed that when it smells like y’know, me.”

Of course he knows that.

“You’re right.” Jaemin nods. “I’ll make sure to just ask next time. But hey, good to know it’s Tide.”

“Glad to know I could help.” You conclude with a small smile.

You guess you both have come to a consensus. Neither of you care for the topic at hand anymore when he wraps his arm around your neck, leading the two of you back to the living room to watch your show.

As you walk down the hall, Jaemin delivers another lingering kiss to the side of your head. Tilting his head in a dreamlike state to get as much of you in as he can. Pretty eyelashes flutter shut when he gets a good whiff of your refreshing shampoo and conditioner.

——

The third time, it becomes a little more apparent that something is up.

“Okay, try this one now.” Jaemin comes up to you with what you think is the fourth lotion he’s had you try since the two of you arrived at the local body shop. Lifting your hands up, he squeezes a generous drop of the smooth substance into your hand. Nodding at you intently to rub it into your skin.

Once you’ve distributed it evenly across your skin, you bring your hands to your face. It’s a nice scent– floral. “Lavender?” You ask, reconnecting eye contact with Jaemin to see that he’s looking at you just a little too eagerly.

“Mhm,” He hums. “You’ve got a good nose. Let me see now.” He doesn’t waste any time when he grabs both of your wrists with one hand easily. His nostrils connect with your palm to inhale deeply.

You blink a few times when he pushes your hands back a little, his eyebrows furrowing together irritably. He doesn’t let go when he takes a few seconds to think, but when a moment more passes, he shakes his head. “Nope, this won’t do.”

“Hm?”

“I hate it,” He sticks his tongue out. “It’s way too concentrated. Feels fake. Go wash your hands.” He gripes while he shoos you towards the sink.

“I thought it smelled pretty good.” You grumble while washing off the residue.

“Nah.” He looks at you with bored eyes and a slack jaw. “I’ll find a better one.”

“Another one?” You whine, scoffing when he bobs his head at you.

The thought displeases you, knowing that you’d have to spend even more time here. When you mentioned to Jaemin that you had run out of lotion and needed to buy a new one, you meant that you were just going to run to the drug store down the street and grab your generic unscented usual. It’s done nothing but right by you. So when Jaemin decided to literally carry you into the passenger seat of his car and drive to the mall— you were once again, extremely confused.

While you were starting to develop a headache from the sensory overload of all of the candles and perfumes, Jaemin looked like he was in a candy shop. Picking up every lotion that catches his eye and contemplating if he should have you try it. His reasoning was a bit vague, but nothing that wasn't on brand for him: “I just wanna spoil my baby today, is that so wrong? Gotta make sure she gets nothing but the best.”

After what seems like tens of minutes and an absurd amount of hand washing, Jaemin comes up with another bottle of lotion. You’ve lost count already, but it’s definitely already in the double digits, and by whatever’s good and holy out there— you hope it’s the last one.

“Cough ‘em up.” He instructs, and you follow in suit. Giving him your hands, he pumps yet another droplet. “I’ve got a good feeling about this one.”

You hope so, but when you take a whiff, you realize he’s right. It’s a tropical smell, light on the sinuses yet just the right amount of sensible. It reminds you of a summer day at the beach where the ocean waves crash onto the shore.

“This one's amazing.” You give him your hand, to which he accepts it gratefully.

And there it was again— that face. Lacing his fingers around the back of your hand, he brings your palm even closer to his nose. The pretty tip of it rubbing into the flesh of it with his chest heaving up the deeper he inhales. His mouth dropping open in an exaggerated ‘o’ when he exhales, a latent look of want in his eyes when they roll back.

“Yeah, this is the one.” He breathes out, and when the tip of his tongue flicks against your palm, you immediately twist away from his clutches.

“Jaem!” You scold him. “Not in public!”

Yet his eyes remain half lidded, taking a predatory step towards you to close the gap. The shop is bursting with people, so you feel your ears getting warm when Jaemin corners you into a shelf of products. Extending an arm to keep you from escaping, a dazed grin begins to form.

You catch a couple of high school girls looking at the two of you in the distance. One of them whispered to another while giggling, probably fawning over how handsome yet risque your boyfriend is. If only they knew that he was a bit… abstract.

You’re about to dodge any probable kisses when he brings his face close to yours, a cheeky smile stretching from ear to ear when he corners in, but just when you’re about to turn away– he shifts around you. His nose just barely grazes over the apple of your cheek and his line of vision shifting elsewhere. The arm that leaves you compromised retracts, and you find the full sized version of the summer breeze lotion in his hand.

“Oh,” You splutter, now feeling embarrassed at your assumption that he was going to kiss you breathless in public. Not that you’d necessarily mind, but you’d like to think you have some decorum.

And as always, Jaemin can read you like an open book. Ever so endeared by how cutely reserved you are, he pecks your cheek while you remain in your dumbfounded state. Turning behind him to lift an unamused eyebrow at the peeping girls. When they realize that they’ve been caught, the taller of the two yelps before scampering out with her friend.

“You’re really cute when you get shy.” He teases you, joining your hands together to pull you away from the shelf.

“And you’re really annoying when you make fun of me.” You pout. “Can we check out now?”

“Just a little longer, sweets. I wanna look at a few more things.” He answers, dragging you towards a display of candles. Now making it a point to check every single item, not caring to ask your opinion on if you like it or not.

The two of you remain in the little shop for another whopping twenty minutes, and you’re sure by the time Jaemin has swiped his card you’ve used up the last of your sanity. But when you two walk down the sidewalk, you can’t help the way your heart pulses at Jaemin’s pleased expression.

You sigh at the three bags of merchandise that rest on the arm that isn’t holding you. It confuses you, you had no idea he was into this stuff in the first place. You’re more than thankful that you aren’t dating a 3-in-1 shampoo type of guy, but you weren’t aware that he was so particular about scents.

Whatever, you think. It’s not like it’s something that you need to worry about. As long as he’s happy, you’ve got no reason to complain.

——

Until it starts to get a little weird– but you start to think you might be just as weird as him. Because whatever is going on right now, you like it.

You had just gotten back from your apartment complex’s complementary gym. Hitting an extra long session of cardio to boost your stamina, even if you weren’t particularly the fondest of it in the first place.

That being said, you were sweaty. Wiping the perspiration off of your forehead with the towel that was hanging off of your neck. Still panting to rehabilitate your breathing, you quickly shove your key in and twist to stumble inside.

It isn’t surprising when you find Jaemin has already made himself at home on your couch. You had given him your extra key ages ago, and you’re sure his own apartment was just a storage unit at this point. Looking up from his phone to catch you leaning on the door, he looks at you like you’re made up of all the stars in the galaxy.

Clearly not bothered by your frazzled state, he immediately swings his legs sideways to fly off the couch. Skipping towards you with his arms extended wide to encapsulate you in one of his signature bone crushing hugs.

And trust, if you weren’t drenched in sweat— you would’ve taken it with gratitude. But in fear of him pushing you away in disgust, you duck under and away from him when he tries to catch you. Gasping out loud when he crashes into the door cartoonishly.

“Jaemin!” You squeak at him, only to have him turn back to you with squinted eyes.

“Why’d you run away?!”

“I just worked out, you goof.” You immediately retort, stifling a laugh when he plants his hands on his hips sassily. Shaking his head at you petulantly, you’re not quick enough to evade his second attack when he grabs your wrist to pull you in. “Jaem—!”

“I don’t care,” He whines, his voice raised to a bratty cadence that would annoy most but makes you melt. Catching you by your hip with his free hand, he pulls you in to shower your cheeks in kisses. With how he bombards you with affection, you’re quick to succumb to his touches. Sloppy and moist pecks along with your giggles fill the room, and you’re both too caught up in your antics.

Until his kisses lead up the angle of your jaw, making a stop at your sideburn, and then letting his nose dig into the side of your head, nuzzling deeply into your hair. Suddenly he stops, and you push yourself away to catch that abrupt switch in his demeanor. There was that inexplicable glint in his eye again, terrifying in how unreadable it is.

You part your lips to question his motives, but any chances of a proper conversation is thrown out of the window when he bends down at level with the crook of your neck, the towel that hung loosely around it is now long forgotten when it falls to the floor. Trapping you with the flat of his hand against the center of your back, you’re arched at an angle that crushes your breasts into his chest.

You were impartial to some innocent touches when you had gotten home, knowing that Jaemin has always been on the needier side. But under the instance he was in the mood for something else? You really wanted to hit the showers first.

“Jaemin, come on–! Ah!” You squeal when rolls his tongue out to lick a up your throat, cleaning the thin layer of sweat and replacing it with his warm spit, tilting your chin up as the pink muscle reaches the tip. The hand at your back travels with haste towards your ass, gripping and kneading a handful of the flesh before bringing it down in a harsh smack. “What are you doing?!”

“Sorry sweets,” He apologizes with little sincerity before nibbling at your neck, inhaling deep yet quickly bated breaths like a dog whose owner has just come home from work. His thumbs hook into the hem of your leggings, snapping the waistband playfully to earn another gasp of surprise. “You just smell so good.” His voice drops an octave in the latter half of his words, falling down to a rough baritone that rumbles deeply in his chest. “You look even better, so pretty for me… Just wanna lick up every drop.”

His proclamation fills you with embarrassment, because you’re certain it’s the opposite right now. Yet he furthers his point when he traces his tongue along the lobe of your ear, letting it slither into the hole, allowing you to not only feel the sensations but hear the slimy appendage roll around. Everything from your hairline to the back of your thighs is drenched in sweat, you’re sure you smelled… salty.

As if he can read the worry on your face, he shakes his head. “Don’t be shy,” He says before scooping your breasts into his palms, squishing them together to lave along your cleavage. The droplets of perspiration meld together to form a small pool, to which he laps up with glee. “I mean it. I love how you smell, especially when you’re like this.” He moans, unrelenting when he pushes your fitted top over your head and disposes of it.

It feels like steam is coming out of your ears at how lewd his actions are, enjoying you as if you were actually a meal for him to eat. “Jaem, come on, please just let me clean up,” You manage to sputter out, your voice wavering with every caress. “I promise I’ll do whatever you want after.”

“No, I want you now.” He growls before sweeping you up and over his shoulder, latching his forearm around your knees to leave you just barely hanging off of him. Completely over exaggerated in his actions, he leads you to the couch that’s no more than a few steps away, pelting you onto the plush cushions with little regard to your landing. He’s even quicker to topple over you, hands immediately seeking purchase over your body in a heated frenzy.

“What's gotten into you?!”

Jaemin was never anything if not frivolous and open about his fantasies, but there’s an almost dark and gritty aura about him right now. The way he completely ignores any pleas or protests only serves to make the heat between your legs grow hotter. It’s as if any thread that’s held him together has snapped, and you’re left with a man starved. Only looking to satiate his selfish and innate desires.

“Didn’t really want you to find out, to be honest. Especially not like this.” Yet his words betray his body when he lifts your arm, holding your wrist firm in place, ogling that hollow that concaves in. When that Cheshire grin grows, your eyes widen when you’re hit with the horrible realization. “Can you blame me though? It’s your fault for making me like this.”

“Oh my god, don’t you fucking dare—” But you’re too late when he dives in, quickly bringing his lips to your underarm, licking a fat stripe upwards whilst reveling in your screech. The tips of his canines poke out in amusement, gauging your reaction as a satisfactory one. The slurp he makes is obnoxious, and the flesh feels sticky from the saliva he leaves behind.

Your flushed expression only spurs him on even further. Of course he knows his lover like the back of his hand. Though you pathetically squirm and struggle, those fucked out eyes and that bratty swivel of your hips tells him you’re enjoying this more than you’re letting on. Such a cute little brat, he chuckles inwardly before continuing.

“Everything about you is so good, ” He croons sweetly, kissing against the surface of your underarm. “Could eat you up just like this, and you wouldn't be able to do anything about it. ‘Cause you're my sweet girl, and you do what I want when I want. Right?”

A pathetic whimper of his name slips past your lip at his assertion, unable to deny the toe-curling pleasure the foreign action is giving you. Gnawing at your bottom lip, you can’t bring yourself to push him off of you when he flattens his tongue to cover itself in your taste. He treats it with the same vigor as when he eats you out, taking in every drop desperately until you’re covered in his saliva.

You’re mortified at how into this he is. When you catch a glimpse of the whites in his eyes, you know that he’s been holding himself back this whole time. It excites and scares you— how much filthier could his desires get? When he shifts from your underarms and reaches your collarbones, you realize that he’s too far gone.

Squirming under his hold only gets him harder as he ruts his prominent bulge in between the crevice where your thighs meet. He was already so hard, the outline in his pants sticking out and jutting against your core with greed. It’s almost humiliating how such an unstimulating act is capable of making you cry out, how each buck of his hips only coerces another gush of wetness from you. You’re sure the lack of restriction meant that he wasn’t wearing underwear right now, because you’re sure what you’re feeling is the head of his cock getting caught on your clit.

Traveling down your body, your leggings slip off with his hands, slipping off with ease when you lift your legs for him. He’s in disbelief at the sight before him, a stringy butterfly thong that’s being sucked in by your folds. There’s nothing left to the imagination aside from your holes that he yearns to devour, but this waiting game only makes his hunger grow. He can’t differentiate the layer of slick that covers the insides of your thighs, but he wants to lick it up all the same.

As if it couldn’t get better, you give him easier access by spreading your ankles as far apart from one another as you can. It makes him scoff, shaking his head with a pointed tick in his jaw. At your submission, you can’t see that he’s inwardly cheering at how well you accept this side of him. It fills his chest with a sort of warmth, one that he can only express in physical adoration.

You’ve always been so, so pretty. He loves how pretty your face is, how nicely you dress yourself up, how you taste– but one of the prettiest things about you is how you smell. The scent of your body wash, or the light perfume you spray on your neck, he enjoys all of it. Yet it all pales in comparison to that heady scent that you give off. It’s natural, poignant, and at its root– pure.

Just like you, his precious girl.

It’s all so good to him, and it’s served to him on a silver platter. He hopes that his gratitude is made clear when he crawls off of you, letting his knees drop onto the carpeted floor and delivering a teasing kiss against your already sopping panties.

You think you’ve lost any sense of direction at this point too. Because rather than being horrified at his incessant sniffing, you find yourself lazily smiling at how much he wants you. No longer embarrassed by any thoughts of him being grossed out by something as petty as some sweat, you give in by hooking your thumbs against the skimpy string of your panties. Making a show of closing your legs flush together to roll it off.

It fills you with confidence to see just how hypnotized Jaemin is by your visage, his eyes trailing along every inch of your legs from the back of your thighs to your ankles, the lace becoming a secondary thought when you finally fling them off. Now that you’re completely bare for him, he follows.

You find that you were right in thinking that he wasn’t sporting any underwear, because when he pushes the fabric down by the waistband his cock springs out freely. An obnoxious slap against his abs, the tip already coated in precum. No matter how many times you’ve fucked, there will never be a time that Jaemin’s body doesn’t have your pussy clenching in need.

His chest that has filled out quite nicely heaves up and down with every bated breath he takes. He watches you with an ardent need to ravish, yet a sort of apprehension indicates restraint. It’s as if he’s holding himself back from fucking you against the couch, so you have to urge him forward yourself. Hooking the front of your foot around his waist, you bring him in close.

Though he stumbles on top of you clumsily, he’s quick to get the hint. A smirk overtakes his features, impressed at your sudden forwardness. It makes you giggle when he traps you with one hand planted at either side of your head, giving your forehead a peck. “What? Not shy anymore?”

“How could I be when I know my Nana likes me like this?” You pout, that feigned innocence and that little pet name quickly driving him up a wall. Under his gaze, you thrust yourself upward in hopes of your wet core meeting his cock, a signal that you want him to take you already.

Even if Jaemin loves every side of you, at this moment, he thinks he wants to see you break for him. Shaking his head at you, he pins you down by the hips. Your legs that were spread just for him are quickly shut once again, the cusp of his hand beginning at the back of your knees before sliding upwards towards your ankles.

You wonder what he’s playing at while also growing frustrated at the lack of being fucked. Trying to break from his hold, you’re easily put back into place when he slaps your exposed ass. He wasn’t gentle at all as a stinging sensation jolts up your spine and makes you squeal. When you open your mouth to chastise him, he gives you a pointed look that instantly shuts you up.

It feels like eons before he moves, but just when you think his teasing couldn’t get any worse, he sheaths his cock right between the crevice where your thighs connect. A high pitched and mocking laugh leaves him when you gasp out for air, unrelenting as he grinds against you so intently that you can feel his balls grazing against your rim.

“Don’t even have to fuck your pussy,” His voice is gruff with want, using the pads of his thumbs to push your thighs back even further. The sweat and pussy juice mix into a nasty lubricant that lets him glide with ease, rutting back and forward to coat his cock. Letting his hardened cock slip between your folds, his leaking tip peeks through the other side. “Could just cum right in between these pretty things.”

“Mmh, Nana,” You whimper when he increases the speed of his thrusts, the tip meeting your clit in a sensual meeting each time. That feeling of uneasiness creeps in on you again. You don’t know how you’d fare if you were to cum off of not being filled. The idea fills you with humiliation, especially since you know more than well that Jaemin would hold it over your head forever. “Nana, come on. Fuck me! Please.”

You try to paw at his shoulders, but he’s unreachable from how proudly he kneels over you on the couch. The way you quickly lose any control over the situation brings him closer to an orgasm, that familiar tightness forming in his lower abdomen. It clenches deeply, his v-line becoming even more pronounced when he sucks in a breath, loving just how powerless and needy you are. That lovely string of ‘please, please, please,’ that echoes like a song from your lips only makes him drunk on lust.

“Love it when you beg for me,” Jaemin groans. His eyes are devoid of anything but want, locked right onto the folds that hug so nicely around him. Truthfully, he could cum just like this. What with how you’re moaning like a common slut just for him and how the raunchy scent of sex permeates the room, each of his senses teeter on the edge of overstimulation. “Such a bratty, cock-hungry slut, aren’t you?”

“Only for you,” You cry, making a show of your loyalty by taking the thumb of his free hand into your mouth, letting your tongue swirl around the pad and tasting the saltiness it has to offer. “Want your cock so bad,” Your muffled words earn an amused chuckle from Jaemin.

When you look like you’re on the verge of tears, he thinks you’ve suffered enough. Popping his coated thumb from your lips, he pats your cheek teasingly. “You did so well for me, my pretty girl. Always so, so good.” He says with that saccharine coated lilt.

Your chest still burns with pride at his praises, no matter how condescending they are. You’ve conquered what you thought to be an insurmountable feat, his torturous teasing seeming like it would go on forever. But he reassures you otherwise, because for the last time he pulls your legs apart. This time he pushes them past their limits, the one that dangles off the couch is inches away from the floor, building up an aggravating burn.

Too focused on the pain, you’re unprepared when Jaemin immediately lodges himself into your hold with one fell swoop. “Nana–!” You screech when his crotch meets yours, feeling the fine hairs growing at his groin. From the start he takes on a brutal pace. You failed to realize that the teasing was a punishment on himself too, not being buried in your tight and wet walls driving him beyond mad. He’s thoughtful in every thrust, hitting that certain spot that has you gasping for air. “Nana– Nana, slow down!”

That fire that was building burns even brighter when his nails dig into your calves, crescents forming into the flesh as he continues to mercilessly pound you. He pays your pleas no regard, and despite the way his cock spreads your walls almost painfully, you can’t deny that his lack of care for your well being and the feeling of being ruthlessly railed serves you by tenfold.

When you and Jaemin lock eyes, he flashes you this dazed, almost maniacal smile. Not that it matters, you’re sure you’re giving him that same exact look right now.

Sweat is now forming along his forehead and down his neck, and it gives him this almost ethereal glow that causes a dribble of spit to trail down the side of your slack jaw. It’s more than apparent that the deep breaths that he’s taking aren’t a sign of fatigue, but rather he’s etching the pungent scent of the room into the deepest pits of his mind. The further he loses himself, the more pronounced his thrusting gets, reaching deeper and deeper every time.

You think you like being nothing more than a hole to him.

Your eyes start to roll into the back of your head when he growls, pinching and forcing any part of your body that instinctively tries to adhere to his ministrations. Going so far as to slap at your side when he grows irritated at your uncontrollable protests. “Do I have to fucking tie you up? Stay still.” He threatens, but he might be enjoying this just a little too much when he pinches at your clit, as if coaxing you into taking the bait. “You like it, huh? Like getting fucked so rough like this?”

“Love it soo much,” You slur, completely lost in a daze when he begins to circle figure eights along your bud. The same thumb that had been in your mouth moments earlier coated in an absurd amount of spit presses against you, and the sensitivity of your body has your aching each and every way. “Nanaa,” You reach out for him, wanting to hold him close.

You’re too cute to deny. With that little tremble of your lip, he’s all yours. Wrapping his forearms around your back with practiced ease, he pulls you up so now you sit right on top of him. All while remaining connected, he plants his feet down before thrusting back up into you.

At this angle, he reaches even deeper. Grabbing the hair at the back of your head, he gives you a look of adoration that borders on obsession. He brings you in for a passionate kiss, immediately darting his tongue into your mouth, only to bite at the tip of yours. Not a second later he’s stretching it out of your mouth, sucking the appendage into his mouth with utter desperation.

Filling two of your most intimate holes, you’re both invigorated by the other’s presence. Stimulated beyond comprehension, Jaemin makes a mental note to have a toy ready for next time– wanting to see just how deep you can fall into the pits of his depravity.

It comes before you even realize, too focused on where your tongues are fighting for access to another’s mouth. In the long time the two of you have spent together, there was no fighting the fact that there was something different about today. It was raw, both of your desires laid bare at their most vulnerable form.

To accept and be accepted was a wonderful feeling. And when you clench around his cock for the umpteenth time, he can’t help the moans that fall from his mouth into yours. Practically shaking when shots after shots of his thick white liquid spurt into you, crying out your name in praise and thanks that he’s found a lover that’s so compliant to his filthiest fantasies.

You don’t take too long to follow behind him, because despite the overstimulation, Jaemin wholeheartedly believes that reaching your high is more important than his own. The strain of his cock borders on painful when your tight pussy milks him of every drop, yet he tightens up and pounds into you at his quickest and most earnest pace.

There’s white when your eyelids flutter shut, and that knot in your belly implodes on itself when his tip knocks against that spongy wall for the last time that afternoon. Throwing your head back in completion, the both of you are crying out at the sensation. You have to fall forward into his arms lest you fall backwards, your nails dig deep into those pronounced biceps to bring you back to earth, now beyond exhausted with his cum leaking out of you.

You’re gasping out for air, still too fucked out with aftershocks traveling from your core and up your spine. Jaemin brings you in closer, soothing the hair at the back of your head down while cooing you into relaxation, almost worried when you spasm against him.

“Shh, baby. I got you,” He kisses against your ear, apologizing quietly when his softening cock still twitches inside of you. “It’s okay… it’s okay. You did so good for me. Love you so much.”

“Mmh, love you too.” You say with teary eyes, wrapping your arms around him and nuzzling your head into his shoulder. With every clench of your pussy you feel him wince, and if you weren’t careful you’re sure he could go for another round. It scares you– but it also delights.

You do have something else in mind, however. Something much more important.

“Jaem?” You call out, letting your index finger trail down his spine.

“Yes, my sweets?”

“Can we take a shower?”

Truthfully, Jaemin wanted to say no. He wanted to remain inside of you for as long as time would allow him, and he even more so wanted to live with this poignant scent the two of you have created together. That sticky, sweaty, and cum mixed smell invigorates him beyond belief.

But when he sees how tired you are, having worked out only to be fucked right after, he gives in with a defeated sigh.

“Yeah, let’s go.”

––

“I’m sorry!”

“Sorry my fucking ass.”

You mock his high pitched whine, watching the two of you in the mirror with a bored stare. With one hand, you’re holding him by the shoulder. Pinning his chest down onto the sink while his ass is bent over and flush against your lower half. The other is wrapped around his once again swollen cock, a layer of your newly purchased lotion being used as a cool lubricant.

After a well-deserved shower, you and Jaemin had an important discussion regarding your unspoken kinks. The both of you came to the obvious conclusion that he had a thing for scents.

Though that wasn’t rocket science, you were quite surprised when he confessed that he fantasizes about you taking control. It was supposed to be a conversation with no malice, but it struck a chord in you. Which leads you to a small, albeit petty argument.

“I ride you all the time!”

“Yeah, but it usually just ends in me putting in the rest of the work. No offense, sweets, but–”

“But what.”

“You’re kind of a pillow princess.”

That being said, you decided to kill two birds with one stone by pushing him over and pumping your fist along his cock with that summer scent he loves oh so much. You know you’re doing right by him, because you feel each ridge and vein that tenses with every glide. A twitch of his head that spews out blanks every time you bite against his neck, bruising the dewy skin shades of pink and purple to stake your claim over him.

“Think you deserve to cum?” You lick up his neck, your thumb circling over his tip and teasing at the hole. The hand that had him pinned down now seeks purchase against his ass, giving him a prominent smack that has him crying out in surprise.

“Yes!” He begs, bucking into your hand when you slow your pace, watching the lotion mesh so nicely on his skin. You realize he had a point in all of this scent stuff, it smells so good. “Please let me cum. I’ll be good from now. I'm sorry─ I'm so sorry.”

“That’s a good little bitch.” You grin devilishly, licking at your lips when you tug at his shaft just the way he likes. A few more pumps and he’s whining like a slut, spasming beneath you when you drop your breasts against his back, covering his mouth to quiet him down. Reveling in his sweet moans even further when you feel his tongue knitting around your fingers. Soon enough ribbons of cum are escaping his cock, launching onto the sink’s cabinets and staining them white.

You love how pliant he is, and how he wheezes against your hand when you refuse to stop. In due time you’ve taken every drop he has to offer, and there's a gossamer thread of cum that connects your retreating hand and his cock. Taking an index finger and swabbing at his cum coated tip, you bring it to your lips, keeping locked eye contact with Jaemin’s fucked out expression and tasting the salty cum for good measure. Lapping at the dollop that remains at your palm, he almost feels jealous that you're paying more attention to yourself than him.

When he looks back at you like you're a divine blessing to this earth, the both of you come to the conclusion that no amount of time could ever make your sex grow dull. Unlocking new things every day, you can’t wait to see what heights your affairs can reach.

There's still more important matter to attend to, however.

Though he apologized, you still don’t think it’s enough. Coming in close behind him, you whisper a deceptively soft command into his ear. It causes his eyes to widen in surprise, never would he have thought you'd ask him to do something like that.

He looks over his shoulder and over at you with fear, but that cold stare only implants even more fear into him. Your word was now law, and he knows better than to disobey.

With a jagged breath, he drops down to his knees. He looks back at you one last time, as if what you asked was a figment of his imagination. It makes you tut in disappointment, so you take matters into your own hands by bringing a foot to the nape of his neck, exerting enough force to push him forward.

“I’m waiting.” You look down at him, pushing him even lower to where his neck cranes uncomfortably.

“Do you really want me to…?”

“I don’t think I stuttered, did I?” You tilt your head condescendingly, a grit to your words causing him to shiver, your cold attitude spurring a giddy feeling in his chest like a high school boy.

Succumbing to your wishes, he comes face to face with the white stained cabinet. His cum is still dribbling, slowly but surely. Tasked with cleaning up his mess, his tongue lolls out, planting his hands against the surface before licking back up. All it takes is one taste of himself and one look of approval from you, and he’s now urgently lapping up any remaining cum.

He realizes that he loves himself a lot too, because he tastes and smells so pretty too. The sight is enough to make you grin in satisfaction, crouching down to kiss the busy Jaemin against his cheek, letting your hands trail through the strands of his hair with adoration.

“Good boy.”

end

────── 〔✿〕──────

unedited

#na jaemin #jaemin smut #nct smut #nct dream smut #jaemin x reader #nct u smut #kpop #kpop smut #kpop reader insert #na jaemin smut #nct fanfic #jaemin fanfic #kpop fanfic #fanfic

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neonacity · 1 year

Text

ARCANE : INIZIO | CH.7 | NCT DREAM X READER

Summary: When human deviants granted with the abilities of the legendary Arcana cards find themselves racing against devious forces, they are left to make a choice that might change the fate of the world itself: be the victims of the game, or become the masters of it themselves.

But will this war end with a crowned hero?

Or will it just create another mad villain?

*****

Note: This is the second book of Arcane. The happenings in this story is a prequel to the first installment which you can check in my Masterlist. Since the lore is highly dependent on the first book, I highly suggest you check it out first—otherwise, new readers might have a hard time understanding what is happening here. Expect lots of time jumps and flashbacks throughout the chapters.

Pairings: Dream 00’ Line + Mark x Reader

Trigger Warnings/Themes: romance, violence, torture, trauma, poly dynamics, suggestive themes, language, psychological, mystery, sci-fi. The concept of the tarot or Arcana cards will be loosely used throughout the series. Note that I am not a trained doctor so there may be some slips here and there about medical things. Again, this is a work of fiction and I am not implying any likeness between the characterization here of the boys to their real life counterparts. I also reserve the rights to all my work—I do not post anywhere else other than tumblr. Minors DNI. Please do not repost. I only publish my works in Tumblr.

Chapter Song: Before the Dawn | Evanescence

Previously > CH. 1 | CH.2 | CH.3 | CH.4 | CH.5 | CH.6

The soft, soulful notes of the grand piano teased the edges of your consciousness like the whisper of a lover.

You have no idea what time it is when you managed to open your eyes, but the first thing that registered to you as you stirred from your sleep were the beams of moonlight that pierced the darkness of your room. It took you a couple of quiet seconds to prop yourself up from your bed, eyes drifting towards the direction of the music as you tried to gather your bearings. Beside you, the glowing handle of the clock on your desk struck 2AM.

The cold feel of the floor seeped into your skin when you pulled the blankets off of you and finally swung your legs over the side of the bed. The hymn floating in between the cracks of your door was beautiful, but there was something about the way the notes danced around each other that made the deepest parts of your chest throb dully. For some reason, it stirred great sadness in you, so you didn't give it a second thought to pull on your night robe and step out into the hallway to find its source. You know exactly where to go… And in a way, who you will find at the end of it.

His back was on you the moment you stepped into the room. It was dark, with only the light of the moon peeking from the high window providing illumination to the almost empty space. It was enough for you, however, to make out his strong back contrasted by the graceful features of his profile. His lean fingers continued dancing across the piano keys and you decided to stop just on the edge of the hallway to watch him from a distance.

"Aren't you cold?"

You weren't surprised at all when he addressed you, his low voice braiding through the notes of the hymn he was playing. He still hasn't looked at you, but you still gave a slight shake of your head in answer.

"That's a very beautiful piece you are playing."

"Did I wake you up?"

"You did. And I think you did it intentionally, too."

The way the corner of his lips slightly curved into a small smile made you tighten your fingers around yourself. You wanted to reach out to him, touch his face, and pull him over to you all at once. You might as well have screamed your thoughts out loud because Mark finally turned to look at you, his gaze gentle and open.

"Come here?"

Your first instinct was to keep your ground, but the side of you that wanted him close got the best of you in a heartbeat. Stepping away from the shadows, you went straight to him, his arms already opening for you before you even settled beside him. You melted into his embrace, fingers treading through his hair as he pressed his nose against the crook of your neck. You frowned and closed your eyes at the contact, the heavy feeling that you didn't even know you've been lugging around for the past couple of days leaving your chest like smoke.

"Don't do that to me again. I thought you left me," you half whispered to keep your voice steady. You felt him sigh against your skin.

"I'm sorry… I needed some time alone."

"Do you hate me?"

Mark shook his head before letting you go just enough so he could see your face. You didn't even realize the tears brimming in your eyes until he reached out to catch them before they fell with his rough fingers.

"I could never hate you."

"But I…"

His smile fell a little as he gave a slight laugh.

"I admit the rejection hurt. I needed time to compose myself again. I wasn't really at my best when we talked so I had to distance myself a little."

"Mark, I'm sorry…"

The way his gaze probed your face now made a twisting tightness bloom in your chest again. It was the same way he had always looked at you, but now with a shade of honesty that he never had before.

"You shouldn't. You made me realize something after all."

Your throat felt tight, but you managed to speak.

"What?"

"That you love me. And that the way you also love the others doesn’t change that."

Your heart squeezed in your chest. You wanted to answer him, give him confirmation, but the way he looked at you told you that he didn’t need any of that assurance anymore. Instead, you leaned your cheek against the hand he raised to cup your face, eyes never leaving his. When he smiled at you again, you knew right then and there that the two of you will no longer be able to go back from all the pretending that provided you safety before. This was a man who had stopped himself from holding back because for the first time, he was finally standing in the same spot you’ve always been at.

For once, none of you are afraid.

“Are you back for real this time? I asked the others and they said you were gone for days. Nobody knew where you went.”

A look of recall quickly crossed his features at your question. He almost seemed a bit guilty, but you knew there was more to it than he was letting on. You could feel dread at the back of your throat, but waited for him to take his time to answer.

“I didn’t really leave because of our conversation. There was something I was trying to figure out.”

“What?”

“Who the traitor is behind all of this.”

You paused. Mark's gaze never wavered from yours and you could see the clear frustration from the set of his brows.

“Did you find out anything?”

“Not much. I could have done it easier with the help of my father but I—” he stopped, a hard look flashing in his eyes momentarily. “I know he is supportive of the Headmaster’s decision for all of us to go into hiding. He wouldn’t help me even if I beg him to. I was able to get access to some reports of the investigation that our family have been doing though. Whoever is coming after us must come from an advanced technology corporation. They—”

“It’s Cypher Institute, isn’t it?”

Mark froze in his seat, his gaze one of surprise before it morphed into confusion.

“How did you know that?”

“Jaemin and I snooped around in my father’s office while he was gone and someone called him about it. It was a coincidence. Was it the same Institute that you were able to confirm from your father’s side?”

The way Mark’s expression changed in just a matter of seconds slowly made an uncomfortable feeling bloom in your gut. It was what he said next, however, that really threw you off.

“My father is not aware about Cypher Institute.”

You frowned.

“What do you mean?”

“He had leads but none of the files I cross-checked had any mention of Cypher. And I looked at everything, I am sure of it. Whoever gave that information to your father is not from our family.”

The silence that wrapped the two of you was brief but heavy with meaning. There were so many questions that came to mind but it was Mark who managed to voice out the most pressing thing you couldn’t bring yourself to say.

“Do you know any other family that your father could be working with?”

You shook your head slightly.

“He does work with everyone. The Kim’s are one when he asked Mijeong to watch over me while I was in university, and I’m sure he also had agreements with the families of the other Masters. I’ve always thought that he shares a lot of his plans to your father though… Especially anything related to this threat. It was the Lee's who saved him from the latest ambush after all. It wouldn’t make sense for him to ask another family to look into things over your father…”

It took a while for Mark to finally say something as he processed that. Your throat felt dry, and you could almost feel your hand locked with his slowly grow cold.

“It would make sense. If he doesn’t fully trust my father.”

His words hung thick in the air. You didn’t know what to say, especially with him saying what you couldn’t put into words. There was something about Junho Lee that has always bothered you, but he is also Mark’s family and for that, you still provided the man a level of respect even from a distance. Still, you knew that one of your father’s reasons for trusting him stands on shaky ground—you just didn’t expect for the distrust to run this deep.

“Do you think… He can do that?”

Mark’s jaw tightened at the question. You could see the fight going inside of him so clearly that you almost felt bad for asking.

“He's a very ambitious man. I was still very young when I lost my mom, but I remember enough to know that he was never really the same after what happened. Still, he is the only other family that I have and…”

“And it is absolutely alright if you want to believe in him,” you gently interjected by giving his hand a gentle squeeze. Mark pursed his lips and he shifted his gaze away from you, his expression torn and pained.

Just like you, Mark’s life was greatly affected by what happened in the past. Fate dealt him bad cards, and for that you can’t really blame him for wanting to stand up for things he wants to believe in. You would do the same if you were in his place; choose to stand by your father before anything and anyone else.

It took a moment before he finally seemed to break from his thoughts. Gaze following him, he reached out for something in his pocket before finally offering his open palm to you. It was dark so it took you a moment to realize what you were looking at, but your lips were soon enough parting wordlessly as he moved to open the small blue velvet box he was holding carefully.

Lying nestled in black satin, catching the light of the moon, was a deep blue diamond ring framed with smaller clear gems on its sides. It looked ornate but well-loved, like a star that had fallen in the middle of a dark night. Your eyes widened as you stared at it, Mark’s silence in contrast to the sudden loud beating of your heart.

“What…”

“It’s my mother’s wedding ring. My father gave it to me when he told me about his plan of us getting married.”

“Mark… I…”

Your voice sounded so full of guilt, but he gently cut you off by pressing the box against your palm.

“Relax, I am not proposing to you,” he said in a tone that made you pause. “I told you that I understand where you stand now. I am not going to force you to do anything that you’re not comfortable with.”

You swallowed, but let him continue.

“But we can’t deny how dangerous it is right now. There is a traitor in our family and it could be anyone, including my father. I won’t blame you if you can’t find it in you to trust us right now, but my family can give you protection, regardless of who is the person who betrayed us. Even if it was him, I think he will spare you if we make him believe that you’re engaged to me.”

“What makes you think he will make an exception for me, Mark? If it really was him, and he was willing to sell the rest of the Masters, then he can betray anyone.”

“No. Not you.”

“Why?”

“Because I love you.”

The way you paused gave Mark the chance to really look at you, his eyes roaming your face. You were at a loss for words, and he used that as his window to continue with a gentle voice that made your chest hurt.

“My father can be ambitious and cruel, I admit that, but he knows how to honor love when he sees it. He was hit hard when he lost my mom, but I don’t think he is going to punish you and me for what happened. He will also gain nothing if he hurts you over us being engaged and making our bloodline stronger.”

“I hate to say this, but it’s the reality we’re living in right now,” he continued. “I can protect you if you choose to continue your life as a Master. It’s that or you move away and cut off all connections with us. Follow what your father has always wanted for you and live like a normal human.”

You slowly shook your head as the weight of his words fully sunk in. You’ve always known this… Everything Mark is saying right now have always been the choices given to you. Not once have you accepted them though, especially with your only other option being to exile yourself from the Family and never see any of them for the rest of your life again.

“So are you saying that we should… tell everyone that we will get married?”

Mark’s gaze dropped before he gave a slight nod.

“Yes. At least while we haven’t figured out who the real traitor is. If they see that we’re both onboard, I don’t think they’ll rush us to it. We can buy ourselves some time.”

You were quiet. Your eyes found the ring again, a testament to a different promise made years ago. After a moment, Mark reached over and closed the box before guiding your fingers to close around it.

“You don’t need to give me an answer right now, but I want you to keep it. Even if we won’t get married, you’re the only woman who I want to have it.”

Your thumb ran over the soft plush of the velvet cover. A few seconds passed before you felt him gently hold your chin to guide you to look at him again.

“I’ll do anything and everything just so we could get to the bottom of this. Whatever happens though, I want you to know…”

“That I will never ever betray you. My life is yours.”

Time seemed to have stopped, the same way your heart did. He looked at you with nothing but bare honesty laid out and you received it, unafraid this time. A cloud shifted outside, and the next moment, you two met in the middle, lips soft against each other. It was a simple kiss, but one that you knew was long overdue. When you pulled away, you whispered softly against him, only loud enough for him to hear.

“I know. I believe you.”

******* “Come in.”

You have barely raised your hand to knock when your father’s clear voice sounded from the inside of his office. The antic would have been amusing if this were any normal day, but instead you found yourself slightly hesitating before finally pushing the door open. He wasn’t looking at you when you stepped into his room, his gaze set instead on reviewing a stack of documents laid out across his table.

“Are you busy?”

It was a rhetorical question at this point, but still, the man’s lips twitched into a small smile as he finally looked at you from over the rim of his wired glasses. He looked unhurt, but the dark shadows under his eyes betrayed how his last couple of days have been.

“Even if I am, I will always have time for you, Princess.”

You didn’t want to immediately soften after that, but you couldn’t help the way your eyes shifted sideways as a reaction. Your father, of course, noticed, and chuckled as a response.

“So? Is there anything wrong?”

Your shoulders slumped a little before you answered. To be honest, you didn’t really plan for anything when you decided to see him today. All you know is that you’re glad to see him again after he had been in and out of the Academy for the past few days, especially since you haven’t really talked after your argument. The way his eyes sparkled behind his glasses now made you think that he already has an idea why you’re here, but the man kept his silence to give you the room to open it up yourself.

“I wanted to apologize… For some of the things I have said last time.”

“Apology accepted. I want to do the same, since I have realized why my decision warranted that kind of reaction.”

Immediately, it felt like a part of the heaviness in your chest lifted. You remained standing in your spot though, your gaze open as you searched his face.

“Did you change your mind? About me and Mark?”

A pause.

“No, my dear. My stand remains the same. And you?”

You didn’t hesitate to answer.

“No… I am still against it.”

He nodded, but didn’t say anything else to counter you. Your father can be as headstrong as he is, but he also knows how to draw boundaries, at least temporarily. What you said next, however, is something he definitely did not expect.

“Mark and I talked though,” you added as you tried your best to work through the lump in your throat. Ever since that night with him, you’ve sat with your thoughts to consider every angle of the situation. You still don’t have a decision, but it would be unfair to lie to your father about what has happened since.

“We… still do not have an answer right now. But we are considering things.”

It was quite hard to gauge whether he was relieved about it or not, but he gave you a slight smile after his pause of silence.

“That’s enough for me. Thank you, darling. Now, do you want to sit? I know you came here to tell me more than just that. At least try to relax a little.”

You hesitated only for a little bit before finally giving in and settling on the chair across his desk. Now that you’re closer, you could better see the lines on his face, proof that the last few days haven’t been easy on him.

“I found out who was after us. I heard it from a call… While you were gone.”

“I know.”

You shot him a guilty look.

“Are you mad?”

The question made him laugh. “Honey, I would be even more surprised if you didn’t snoop around to find out things on your own. Let me guess, did Mark come with you?”

“No. Jaemin did.”

“Mm. As expected from Mr. Na. That young man's loyalty to you is fiercer than his strongest fear.”

“Why is Cypher after us, Papa?”

You didn't know if he was taken aback by your straightforwardness or not, but the moment you asked, a shadow of emotion you couldn’t quite understand flitted over his features. It was fast, but it was enough for you to understand that he knows something more than he is letting on. At first you thought he would avoid the question, but then the light in his eyes shifted again, almost as if he was looking inward to himself.

"It's human nature to crave power. Cypher, unfortunately, is one of those willing to meddle with it."

"Do you have any idea what it is that they want from us? Even with what they have, it is impossible for them to tap into the abilities of the Arcana. Manmade resources have no chance against us."

The pause from him was loaded. The man leaned on his desk now, shoulders slightly slouched as he took off his glasses and pressed the bridge of his nose. You almost wanted to reach out to him, but he seemed on the verge of breaking at the slightest touch. A flash of uninvited memory took over you, and it was then you realized that you've seen him like this before. Once, a long time ago when you were younger…

Back when your mother died.

"I wish I knew. It's hard to go against an enemy without understanding how they could possibly hurt you, but I am sure of one thing. They're dangerous. If there's something even more powerful than greed, it's hatred, and Cypher… has both towards us. Whatever happens, we can't let them get to us. To any of you."

His words slowly sank like dull blades into your skin. There was something lurking behind his statements, a confession hidden in plain sight. You hated how you're piecing things together slowly, how you're realizing that there is possibly more to this than just going against an enemy.

"What do you mean about them hating us?" You asked softly now, your eyes set on him. Your father's gaze hardened as he continued staring at a spot in front of him. His silence was enough of an answer that you need.

"You… know these people. You know why they are doing this," you continued slowly. Your words seemed to have struck something in him, a look of pain overtaking him for a solid second before he finally reached for your hand.

“When the time comes, you will understand.”

“No, I don’t think I will. Why won’t you tell me everything?! I can help. You don’t have to carry this on your own.”

“Darling, you don’t understand. They are not like anything we have faced before. I’m doing this to protect all of you.”

You were quiet as your mind ran a million different things at the same time. You could see the cracks in him, the dawning realization shaking your core in a silent, terrifying way. There are a lot of moments in your life when you don't agree with your father, but you love the man, and he has always been the epitome of someone you can rely on ever since you were young. It doesn't matter how big the problem is, he will always come swooping down to save the day. As you look at him now across from you, shadows and light bouncing off his tired face, you felt your heart break as you realized one thing. He is afraid just as you are. Unlike you though, there was an air of resignation in him, as if he already knew the fate waiting for him.

“Then why… does it feel like you are saying goodbye.”

The way that he looked at you made something in you break. You shook your head slowly, and he cupped your face with his hand to keep yourself from trembling.

“You will understand it soon. For now, all I wish is for you to trust me. I know it might be too much to ask, but I hope you can give me this.”

You were terrified. In that moment, you felt like a little girl again, afraid to lose the only family that you have.

“Only if you promise me one thing.”

“What is it?”

“You will not die.”

He paused for a bit before finally giving you a small smile.

“You have my word.”

You weren’t entirely convinced, but you took it, at least for now. Your father may not be perfect, but as much as he is flawed, he had always tried his best to never break his promises to you. You nodded now, your eyes falling to the piles of papers in his desk.

“What are we going to do now, Papa?”

His hand on your face lowered and your gaze landed on his ring as it caught light from the lamp on his desk. It was an ornate piece made with what looked like bronze, the simple band carved with intricate-looping patterns that are reminiscent of snowflakes. It was the only piece of jewelry that he had worn for as long as you could remember, on top of his wedding band that he never took off despite the death of your mother. For some reason, the ring looked different now as it shone against his skin. It looked regal in your father’s hand, yet at the same time... lonely.

When he spoke again, his voice was melancholy.

“When the time comes, you will know exactly what you have to do.”

******* “You know the view of the sunset looks best on the other side of the rooftop, right?”

Your head only slightly turned towards the sound of the voice that broke through your thoughts. Shrugging a little to yourself, you turned your gaze once more to the burning sky, eyes not really seeing the deepening colors there. You have no idea how long you’ve been sitting in the cold, but the freezing chill clinging to your skin gave you an idea of the hours you’ve lost track of.

“I know. I didn’t really come here for the view though.”

Soft footfalls started moving towards you in answer. The next thing you felt was the warmth of a cardigan going over your shoulders as your visitor dropped to the spot next to you.

“That makes one of us. I do like the view here. Can I join?”

You raised a brow but grabbed the edges of the jacket to wrap the material tighter around you. “You’re already here. Will you leave if I ask you to?”

“Nope~”

The way you could almost hear his smirk in his voice couldn’t stop you from smiling a little. You gave a light-hearted sigh before finally turning to look at him.

“Why are you here, Haechan? Shouldn’t you be resting in your dorm? You just finished training with the others, right?”

“When I can finally have some alone time with you? You do realize how hard it is for some of us to get your time, right? Either you’re sulking on your own or you’re being hogged by my cousins—”

He wasn’t able to finish what he wanted to say as you raised your hand and knocked your fist on top of his head. Haechan jokingly flinched and massaged the spot you just hit, a smirk on his face.

“Did you just come here to harass me?”

“Did I lie? All I’m saying noona is that I’m a Lee too. What does Mark and Jeno have that I don’t have?”

You looked at him dead-panned before giving an answer.

“Height.”

The way his face dropped made your lips twitch. It was taking you everything not to dissolve into laughter with how hard he scowled at you.

“Okay, Princess, listen here. Mark-hyung is literally a centimeter taller than me. Don’t be mean.”

That was the last that you could take. Unable to help it, you finally gave in, your laughter bursting as you curled in on yourself to keep yourself from snorting. You could almost feel his frown deepening without even looking at him, the awareness of it only making you wheeze harder.

"I do know what I can do that those two dorks can't though," you heard him say quietly after he let you have your moment. When you finally gathered yourself again—cheeks pink from the cold and the laughing fit—he was looking at you softly. The sunset was kissing his skin, making him look as if he was glowing. The corners of his lips lifted as he angled his face a little to the side to watch you.

"I'm the only one who can make you laugh like that."

The way your heart jumped made you immediately forget what you thought was funny just seconds ago. Your relationship with Haechan has always been different… Mark is loyal, Jeno is secretive, Renjun is subtle, and Jaemin is passionate. Haechan has always been straightforward with what he wants, but unlike the others, his intensity can sometimes be impulsive, like an open flame ready to spark into a larger fire at any moment. It was in his nature—The Magician, as the master of chaos, is the one force in the Arcana that constantly straddles logic and madness, next to The Fool itself. He is designed to want you in a different intensity from how others feel ever since the Arcana chose him as its Master.

It's because of this that you have always tried to hold back more when it comes to him. And so when he pushes, you pull back, not because you feel any less for him, but because the idea of you two meeting in the middle has always terrified you.

That, and you know that whatever feelings Haechan has for you at the moment might not be his own, but his Arcana craving for yours.

"You make me laugh just as hard as you can make me mad," you admitted finally, allowing your walls to break down just a little in front of him. Something flickered in his eyes though his smile remained.

"You always run away from me, noona. Why?"

"You already know the answer to that."

"What I know is that you like me just as much as you like the others."

"I do. But do you feel the same about me? Or is it your Arcana telling you that you want me?"

Your question made him stop. You watched as the smile slowly bled from his face, his well-kept mask slipping for a moment. Haechan is a good master of his own emotions, but this time you knew you hit a chord.

"I can do anything for you. Destroy worlds… and build new ones if you want me to,” he said, his voice serious.

"I know. But that is not answering my question."

"Then what—"

"Will you feel the same if I am not the IL Matto, Haechan? Will you still like me if I’m just a regular human?"

The way his eyes hardened a little at the very thought of you living a life as a normal mortal admittedly made your heart break a little. You've always known this, of course… but hearing his answer now in his silence did not make it easier. When it seemed like he didn't know what to say next, you took it upon yourself to take his hand gently. He immediately wove his fingers with yours, his hold tight that it felt like he was giving you his reply through it alone. This time, it was you who smiled at him to try and give him comfort.

“I know how much you like me, but I can’t accept those feelings if you’re not even sure yourself that they’re your own. It’s unfair for me to give you an answer and take your free will from you, Haechan... I can’t do that, at least while you still can’t answer that question.”

He looked so lost and in pain that for a moment, you could see the chubby-cheeked boy who had always ran after you when you were younger. It made you want to pull him in for comfort, but you settled on giving his hand a squeeze instead.

"Hey. Don’t feel bad about it, okay? It’s fine. I like having you around, just like this. If you want to do anything for me though, then just promise me one thing."

He still seemed torn, but he managed to give an answer anyway.

"What is it?"

"Never stop making me laugh. You're right. You’re the only one who can do it."

******* Kun kept his eyes steady on the flickering flame of the candlelight in front of him. The room was quiet, but there was a different tinge of melancholy that was lingering in the air as the Headmaster sifted quietly through the papers in front of him. The ticking sound of the grandfather's clock in the room was deafening to him, like a death call waiting for its final drop. It was a reprieve when the door finally creaked open, revealing Taeyong on the other side of it. Kun waited for him to join his side, giving the man the liberty to break the suffocating silence.

"We just finished the final round of trainings, Sir. We’re gathering all the data before giving them to you."

"How are the kids?"

"They have improved a lot. They’re not at their full potential yet, but they can definitely control their abilities better now. They will be able to hold a fight… should the need arise."

"They don't have to. They only need to defend themselves,” the man said evenly. “Have you heard word from Doyoung?"

Taeyong paused before giving an answer.

"Yes. He has confirmed that it is most likely Junho Lee who is working with Cypher."

The man's hand froze ever so slightly as he moved to pick up a paper from his desk. His face was calm, but there was something about the set of his lips that made Kun and Taeyong surreptitiously exchange glances.

"I appreciate you working with the Kim's, Taeyong. He's probably watching me very closely, so I needed you to do the job."

"Do you want us to get rid of him?" Kun's voice was quiet but steady when he asked the burning question. The Headmaster shook his head, his eyes hooded by the shadows from the flickering candle.

"No. Not yet."

Kun's jaw clenched ever so slightly at the answer. His morals tell him to take the man's word with no question—follow him with blind loyalty like he has always done—but he couldn't bring himself to do it now, not when everything seems to be crumbling around him. From the way that Taeyong was holding himself beside him, shoulders stiff and face set, he knows that the other Legacy shares the same stand.

"With all due respect, Sir. I would like to understand why," he finally decided to ask after gathering enough courage to speak again. The man peered at him from behind his glasses, curious, but not seemingly surprised by his question. He didn't know if it was just a trick of the light, but he thought he saw the shadow of a smile on the other's lips before he finally moved to cross his hands together.

"You and Taeyong always had the right to ask. The pair of you just do not give yourselves the full credit you are due."

For a second, Kun felt oddly like a child being gently reprimanded by a parent. Gathering himself again, he decided to press more to get answers.

"We do not understand why you're protecting Junho. He betrayed you. He betrayed all of us."

"I am not protecting him. I am protecting the Family… From him."

The look of silent confusion from him and Taeyong was not lost on the Headmaster. The man, on the other hand, seemed set and collected as always.

"Cypher is already a formidable enemy on their own. They will wage war on us soon, there is no doubt about it. Going after Junho now will only split the Family more—and we are currently at a disadvantage of not knowing who else within our network has decided to side with him. If he finds out that we know, we'll just be pushing ourselves in a corner. The Lee's have resources, and having those used against us is the last thing we need."

"So we will just let him do whatever, then?" Taeyong asked this time.

"No. When the time comes… And you will know when—you will have to take him down. Even his own son should he decide to betray my daughter."

The way the man said that so evenly without batting an eye made Kun and Taeyong's blood run cold. The Headmaster is a kind, rational man that oftentimes, people forget how cunning and ruthless he can be in his own ways.

"For now, I want to keep him alive. After all… He might still become useful in the future."

Both men stared at him, though none decided to speak up this time. Wordlessly, he picked up a thick brown envelope from his table and offered it to the two. Kun and Taeyong looked at each other before the former took it silently from his hands.

"When that time comes, my daughter will be the first person to know what best to do with him," the Headmaster continued as he leaned back on his chair. "Just the same as she will know what to do next once things start to unfold. When the moment calls for it, give her that envelope. It will help her."

Kun's fingers tightened on the edges of the bundle he was holding. There was a heavy feeling that had started to weigh on his stomach, similar to the one he had when the man talked to him first after his quick absence.

"Are you leaving, Sir?"

A shadow of something quickly glossed over the man's expression. It was so brief, but it was enough to give Taeyong and Kun the answer they hoped they wouldn't have to hear ever.

"There are things that only I can do in this fight. So yes… I would have to leave my daughter. For a while," he said, his eyes moving from one young man to the next. Maybe it was the darkness and the shadows dancing in the room, but in that moment, the Headmaster saw in the pair two other young men who stood shoulder to shoulder in this room once, many decades ago, promising their allegiance to the Arcana. The memory made his chest constrict with a mix of emotions—pain… longing… and sadness for what was and what will never be again.

He let the memories linger for a few more seconds before finally giving the two a small smile.

"I know I have already asked for too much from the both of you, but if I can have one last request… I hope you two can put her and the Family's best interests at heart while I am away."

"Consider it my last request as IL Giudizio."

******* Your footsteps echoed softly in the hallways as you made your way back to your room. Tucked loosely by your side are a couple of hardbounds, titles you decided to sneak out of the library in this unholy hour because you were already out of reading material. It's been weeks since most of the student body have been sent back to their homes, leaving Rosewood silent and vacant. Since then, you’ve tried to take comfort in the stillness surrounding you by keeping mostly to yourself and out of everyone's way.

You have already turned the last corner to your room when your phone suddenly vibrated in your jeans pocket. By the time you managed to pull it out and check your messages, you were already at your door, one hand wrapping around the knob while you tried to open the message notification. You have barely caught Mark's name on your screen when a gasp was suddenly torn from you as someone grabbed you by the arm, the motion causing the books you were holding to tumble to the floor. Your eyes grew wide as your back made contact against the wood, your elbow grazing the cold knob of your door as you were pushed against it. Your first thought was that you were being attacked, but a different kind of shock gripped you when you realized what exactly was happening.

You didn't really need to see him to know whose lips were pressed against you the next second. Even in your confusion, your hands automatically gripped the front of his shirt as he held you close to him. He was holding you so tightly that it took you a moment to guide his face back so you could see him better. Dark eyes met yours, hooded by his windswept, messy hair as you searched his face. The warmth of his breath fanned your lips and his fingers only dug deeper on your hip bones as if he was afraid that you will push him away.

"Jeno, what—"

"I need you. Now."

Four words. That was all it took for you to pause and for your heart to stop in your chest. You held his gaze for a second longer before grabbing his hand the same time he reached out to turn the knob behind you. Wordlessy, you pulled him in, leaving nothing but the sound of your door closing in the empty hallway.

*******

A/N: This took a while because I simply could not put my thoughts into words properly. Enjoy!

Taglist:

@effulgentfireflies, @kasperneo, @lostlovesoul11, @byunniebaekhyunnie, @smolpeyy, , @dearj43, @bettyschwallocksyee, @babyksworld, @yongboksfreckles, @user103843, @lovehowdream, @glitching-wren, @jhornytrash, @coconuttiez8d, @negincho, @stopeatread, @ellatizw, @huangberryyy, @wonyofanclub,

Untaggable for some reason: @renjunsflower, @coconuttiez8d

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vkooksupremacy · 9 months

Text

Never Say Goodbye

NCT Dream x Male Reader Platonic

NCT Dream were absolutely crushed when their maknae, Y/N, decided he was leaving due to his mother's death. Yet one day, they hoped for his return.

Almost all the members of NCT Dream had graduated. Only Jisung was left, and new members who were Jisung's age and joined after Y/N's exit.

It was time for the other members of Dream to graduate. Except the original seven Dream members had a surprise. So did one more person.

After Dreams graduation concert, a video began to play. "Graduation" also began to play, the audience tearing up when they saw all the original Dream members show up on screen.

"Hey, NCTzen." Mark started, waving to the camera. "Before Dream graduates, we wanted to give you a surprise."

"As you know, we graduated in 2018 and 2019." Renjun continued. "We have truly enjoyed watching Jisung and the rest of Dream grow."

"However, we have something to say." Jeno added. "Remember 7Dream?"

The crowd burst into cheers as Haechan appeared on screen.

"We're coming back."

"We will be a fixed unit now, NCT Dream." Jaemin said.

"There's an even bigger surprise." Chenle was unable to keep in his giggles.

"As most of you guys know, our maknae left sometime on 2019." Jisung said, making the audience cheer even louder. "Y/N was one of our most popular members. We loved him wholeheartedly, and still do."

"Hey guys." The audience quietened down. Y/N's face appeared. He'd grown up. His face had matured, but he still had that child like demeanor. "I'm back. Permanently, returning to 8Dream."

The audience went ballistic, chanting Y/N's name as eight blocks rose from below the stage to greet the original Dream members.

"We're coming back with our new album, Hello Future, this May." Mark announced. "The return of NCT Dream."

#kpop x male reader #nct x male reader #jisung x male reader #nct dream x male reader #nct x reader #na jaemin #park jisung x male reader #jaemin #nct dream #nct 127 #male reader insert

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panjakes · 2 years

Text

Blood stains(PRT.1)

Parings:JaeminxBlackreader

Summary:Jaemin keeps seeing this woman in his dreams, then he finally sees her in person

Warnings⚠️: mentioning of blood, violence, and bad language

Jaemin woke up in a cold sweat yet again. This had to be the third time this months. He was having these dreams with the same woman in it. Not that he was complaining, he just wanted to know who it was.

He looked over at the digital clock on the wall.

7:26

He had class in two hours. He sighed getting out the bed going to the bathroom. He showers and gets dressed for class and leaves in a hurry.

Once he reaches his class he frowns at a new figure sitting across the room. He takes his seat next to his friends Haechan and Jeno.

“Who’s that?” He whispers

“Transfer student” Jeno says shrugging

“She’s HOT! And super smart!” Haechan says making the two boys groan

“You think every girl is hot I don’t trust your judgement” Jeno says shaking his head

The professor stood up from his desk clearing his throat gaining the classes attention.

“If anyone cared,we have a transfer student. Introduce yourself sweetheart” he says sitting down

Jaemin watched as the dark skin girl stood up from the seat she was in and waved to the classroom

“Hi my name is Yn obviously I recently transferred here” she says with a slight giggle

The professor nods proceeding to let the girl sit down

“Where’d she transfer from?” Jaemin asked to what he thought, to himself

As if the girl could hear him(which she did) she turned around locking eyes with Jaemin.

He lowly gasp at the sight of her eyes. The went from brown to a very enticing glowing purple

She looked familiar

Jaemin felt like he knew her.

It was like he couldn’t look away.

He didn’t want to look away.

It was like…he was in a trance.

“Dude stop staring at her” haechan says knocking the blond out of his trance

He shook his head looking back in her direction to only see the back of her head cause she was copying the notes from the screen.

“I-I wasn’t looking at her” Jaemin says

“Yeah, sure and Jeno and Renjun aren’t dating” haechan says chuckling

“We’re not!” Jeno whispers

“Whatever. I’m onto you two” haechan says

Jaemin sighs before turning his attention back to the girl.

What was her deal?

What did he just see?

He shook it off and decided he was seeing things because he didn’t get enough sleep.

Jaemin’s thoughts were interrupted by the professor dismissing class.

“I’ll see you guys later” haechan says

“Where are you going?” Jaemin asks

“To talk to new girl” haechan says smirking

“That girl has a name” Jeno says

“I know” haechan smirks before walking off towards Yn

Jaemins feet planted in the spot he stood watching the interaction between the two.

They spoke for a while before turning around to walk away.

Just as Jaemin was about to walk away too, Yn turned around locking eyes with him for the second time today.

Just like before,Jaemin did not want to look away from her now turning purple orbs.

She sent a quick smirk and a wink before turning back around, giving haechan all her attention.

He shakes his head with a sigh

“Caffeine…yeah I need a nap and caffeine” he mumbles to himself and with that he was off to the starbucks by his apartment complex.

After getting his salted caramel cream cold brew with a breakfast sandwich and a cake pop, he went home to his comfy coach.

He watched his favorite show while doing home work and occasionally sipping from his coffee and taking bites from his sandwich.

Eventually he decided he’d take a break and laid down slowly drifting off on his show.

*JAEMIN’S DREAM*

“Jaemin”

A sweet and soft but sultry voice called out. Jaemin opened his eyes seeing a figure leaning over his laying form.

The figure was Yn?

Jaemin looked around noticing they were in his apartment. Yn sat straddling his hips with nothing on left to imagine.

She was beautiful. Breath taking…but why was she here?

“Yn?” He says

“Jaeminnie why were you being mean?” She asks with a pout

“Mean? What?” He asks confusedly

“You don’t love me anymore?” She whines

Jaemin shakes his head

“I don’t even know you Yn”

“Yes you do! She took you away from me!”

“She? Who is she?” Jaemin asks

Yn closes her eyes before snapping them open. Once again they were purple. She leans in closer to Jaemin, lips ghosting over his.

“Say you love me” she says

“What!?” Jaemin asks

Yn leans closer to his ear before whispering her request

“Say. You love me. Jaemin” she says before leaning down to his neck. Her lips ghost over his neck before she sinks her teeth into his neck. He lets out a low groan, eyes rolling to the back of his head.

She pulls away from his neck, going back to her sitting position

Jaemin looked into her beautiful purple orbs and just like that he was under her spell. His eyes soon turned purple and he felt relaxed

“I love you Yn”

She smirks raking her long acrylic nails down his chest

“I knew you did my love, now do me a favor” she says caressing his chin

He leaned into her touch looking up at her lovingly

“Wake up”

“Huh?” With that the purple disappeared from his eyes and so did Yn.

“Jaemin wake your stupid ass up! Harmony is going to fucking kill you!”

Jaemin jumped up from the couch looking around confused.

“Dude you okay?” Jeno asked

“Yeah just…a weird dream” Jaemin admits

“Wanna tell us what it was about?” Renjun says sitting next to him on the couch

“Yeah it was about…” Jaemin freezes. He didn’t remember.

“About…what?” Haechan says

“I-I don’t remember” Jaemin says

His gears were turning. Why couldn’t he remember the dream he just had two minute ago?

“It’s okay bro I never remember dreams either” Jeno says shrugging

“I literally only remember bits and pieces” Haechan says shrugging

As Jaemin raked his brain trying to remember his dream the three boys talked about how weird dreams can be.

“Wait you said harmony is going to kill me?” Jaemin asks Haechan

“Oh yeah! She said she came by and you didn’t answer” Haechan says

“Yeah she called me in a panic saying she wasnt getting a response from you” Renjun says

Harmony was jaemins girlfriend of two years.

Jaemin sighs picking up his phone seeing 5 missed calls and 13 text messages from her.

“She’s gonna kill me” Jaemin whispers

“I said that” Haechan says with a sarcastic smirk

“She’s definitely going to kill you when she see that” Jeno says pointing to his neck

“What?” Jaemin asks touching his neck. His fingers felt over the bite mark. He pulls his hand back looking at it seeing fresh blood on his finger tips

“The hell? What does it look like?” He asks

Renjun takes a quick picture showing him. It looked like a hickie and a bite mark seeing as it was bleeding.

“I see you like them freaky!” Haechan says smirking

“I-I don’t know how that got there” Jaemin said analyzing the picture. He also noticed the small blood stain on his white shirt

“Yeahhh sure you don’t” haechan says smirking

“I’m serious guys. I’ve been here alone this whole time” Jaemin says

“Guys he looks serious” Renjun says

“Maybe something bit you” Jeno says

“Please. As if harmony’s crazy ass will believe that” haechan says rolling his eyes

“Put a band-aid on it” Jeno says

With that Jaemin rushes to his medicine cabinet grabbing a band-aid. Before placing the bandaid Jaemin cleans the mark putting ointment on it.

He winced at the pain as he put the band-aid on his neck. He figured he’d tell harmony it was a misquote bite.

But little did he know. That was Yn remarking her territory.

#ambw #ambw fic #black girls are beautiful #black reader #black reader insert #kpop #kpop poc #x black reader #x black!reader #kpop imagines #nct x black reader #nct angst #nct jaemin

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raibebe · 1 year

Text

Once again, I am asking myself why people go so bonkers over size difference.

#like???#I don’t understand.#it wasn’t even in a y/n way. I gave up on understanding that #but like.#why are people obsessed with size?#okay. context #what prompted this was seeing a tweet that said something like:#omg Johnny is towering over mark. going insane etc.#and then my timeline was full of: omg jaemin is so much bigger than jeno #the other day #just. why?#I mean yeah. Jeno’s waist is tiny and slutty #but that’s it for me #that’s where it starts and ends #but people seem to really obsess over sizes and especially size difference #like size kink in reader insert fics isn’t new #the reader is almost always short and petite #(and the size kink is untagged lmao)#I don’t even know where I’m going with this anymore #lmao #I simply don’t get it #someone explain it to me #I feel like it’s an internet/celebrity crush thing #like you wouldn’t start dripping in the cereal isle just because a tall/buff dude walks by #okay very dramatic but point still stands #also probably the heteronormative ideal of a couple being a tall guy and a short woman #:]#fuck beauty standards #wow this went off topic lmao #congrats if you read until here

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ihavethedreamies · 28 days

Text

Banana | Jeno

Lee Jeno - NCT Dream

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~1.9k

Pairing: Jeno x AFAB!Reader

Genre: Reader-Insert, Smut, Established Relationship, Porn without Plot

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Swearing, Kissing, Oral (M! Receiving), Deep Throating/Face-Fucking, Daddy Kink (oopsie), Soft Dom! Jeno, Big Dick! Jeno, Sex on the Coffee Table, Sex on the Floor, Unprotected Sex (Don’t!!)

Summary: Bananas are already sexually viewed, let alone when you add some chocolate syrup…

Author's Note: This series was supposed to be of drabbles, but as you can see this is way too long to be considered that.

This is only vaguely based off of Smoothie…I say this because I got the idea for a fruit theme, but past that its unrelated.

🍉 Mark 🍉

🍇 Renjun 🍇

🍒 Haechan 🍒

🍑 Jaemin 🍑

🍓 Chenle 🍓

🍍 Jisung 🍍

I am cross-posting this on Archive. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other site. Happy reading!

You almost never ate a banana. Even if you did, you preferred it cut up with some other fruits and berries. Eating a banana in a…normal way, often led to giggles and dirty thoughts. Mostly because all of your friends were men in their early-twenties but still acted like middle schoolers. So, in the privacy of your own home, you finally allowed yourself to eat the yellow fruit. When Jeno came over to spend the weekend, your boyfriend noticed the bundle on your kitchen counter. They were still a little green on the ends which meant you had gotten them recently. He sniggered a bit immediately, imagining you eating one. He laughed more because he could see your stern glare, aimed at him to warn him not to say anything. It was incredibly unlikely you would eat one like a "normal" person, which was good for him for two reasons. One, he wouldn't have to worry about making fun of your snack choice, and two he wouldn't have to deal with the consequence of your beating him up for said teasing.

"Princess?" He called out to you, you were probably in your room. Normally when he came over you would be waiting in the living room, but you were nowhere in sight.

"I'm in the bathroom!" He heard your reply in the distance, so he went down the hall, the door to said room open. When he peaked around the doorframe, you were sitting on the edge of the tub. There was a shallow pool of water filling the basin, both of your feet resting inside.

"You okay?" He sat next to you, just facing the other way. Jeno touched the water with his finger and cringed at the cold.

"I spilled my coffee…" You huffed sheepishly, your boyfriend cooed at you in pity.

"Oh, princess." He turned more toward you, so he was able to rest the side of his jaw on your shoulder. His soft black hair tickled your cheek as you rested it on the crown of his head.

"I think they soaked long enough. I don't think they're burned." You moved to pull your feet out and he stood so he could help you. Even the soles hurt since the hot liquid had puddled and you stepped in it while trying to recoil. When Jeno saw you wince he sneered at your feet, how dare they hurt you. You let out a soft yelp as his arms easily lifted you like the princess, he treated you as and he carried you to the living room. Gently letting you down on the couch he asked if you wanted a snack.

"I got some bananas, could you get me one and the bottle of chocolate syrup?" You motioned toward the kitchen, and he eagerly left to get it, trying to hide his expression. If he was too obvious about forcing himself not to watch you eat, you would notice, but at the same time, if he did watch, you would also notice. He was in a pickle…which then made him thinking about eating a pickle and his brain was unraveling in his skull. As he looked at the bundle of bananas to find the best looking one, he snickered to himself as he picked the biggest one out and then got the bottle of chocolate sauce out of the fridge. He came back with your requested snack as well as your box of Rice Krispie Treats. You had already put on some drama you had been casually rewatching and he tried to occupy himself with eating his snack. You peeled the yellow fruit about halfway, the peel flopping over your hand. Jeno watched out of the corner of his eye as you popped the lid of the bottle open and drizzled the syrup onto the fruit. He was insanely glad that at least the liquid was the color it was, it would be all over but the crying if it was white. A scene caught your attention, so you just held it in your hand, the chocolate dripping down over the pale yellow and your boyfriend's head started to swim. Were you planning this? Maybe not, because when you finally took a bite, it was aggressive, and it made him cringe. That helped at least. You made it worse again though because you halted your next bite midway through, just having your lips wrapped around it, enamored with the scene. He did not care, nor did he remember what was playing, his eyes too focused on your mouth. The chocolate had mixed some with your saliva and thinned to the point it dripped, missing the peel and landing on your hand. You grunted in realization, pulling the fruit out, light teeth marks left, and licked the chocolate off your hand. You must have felt his gaze because your eyes flicked up to meet his and he chuckled, trying to mask his smoldering gaze with humor.

"You're going to make a mess." He playfully scolded and you were fooled by his ruse. You sneered back in jest and made an annoyed noise as the syrup began to flow down the banana more. Jeno had to bite his tongue not to groan when your tongue left your mouth to lick up the banana, catching the chocolate so it didn't drip any further. You were going to kill him if you kept going. The final straw was when you put nearly half of the rest of the banana in your mouth, trying to eat it faster to prevent more mess. Before you could actually take the bite though, it was yanked from your grasp, landing on the coffee table with a splat. You shouted in despair at the loss, but your boyfriend's tongue soon replaced the banana. Your upset whine turned to a moan, falling back eagerly when Jeno climbed over you, pressing you into the couch. Worked perfectly. You thought to yourself. Jeno's tongue licked over every inch of your mouth, tasting your fruity snack. As he pulled back from the kiss, he sucked on your tongue, then propped himself up to loom over you.

"Floor." He ordered, his tone instantly going hard, making your cunt clench. You scrambled to follow the command, kneeling obediently at his feet as he stood at the end of the coffee table. You watched with great interest as he unbuttoned his jeans and pulled the zipper down, revealing his hard cock to you. You licked your lips, and he huffed as you eagerly opened your mouth wide, tongue out.

"You planned this, didn't you?" Your boyfriend groaned softly as he let the head of his cock rest on your tongue. You hummed in agreement as he slowly entered your mouth, your lips and tongue expertly stroking his cock. When the head met the back of your mouth, he waited to hear you suck in air through your nose, then continued. You sat like a good girl, just letting Jeno fuck your mouth, whining slightly when your nose finally touched the skin of his pelvis. You swallowed, fighting back gags, holding your breath as best you good. Your eyes flicked to his and he smirked, beginning to move his hips. Your purposefully let a great deal of drool pool in your mouth, strands of saliva coating his cock and dripping to the floor. He loved when you were messy. His gaze flicked to the discarded banana on the table and he much preferred seeing his dick in your mouth than the fruit. You took his thrusts like a champ, practice made perfect. You loved when he did that just as much as he did, the power and dominance he had over you through the act made your head swim as well as the lack of air. Jeno could hear your breathing getting ragged, trying desperately to suck in air whenever his cock was far enough out of your throat, but your eyes were watering, face getting red. Luckily, he was close. Your eyes met his again and he waited till you inhaled as much as possible, then buried his cock completely and came down your throat. You swallowed aggressively to get his load down but not gag at the same time. When he finally pulled back and out, your lungs wept in relief as you panted. Your throat was raw, spasming to compensate for the abuse it just took. So, you didn't have to get up, Jeno met you on the floor, helping you kneel differently so you could bend over and rest on the coffee table. Your breaths were still heavy as he pulled your shorts down just enough, the fat head of his still hard cock meeting your soaked cunt. You nearly came when he had, he could tell by the way your core was clenching around nothing.

"Fuck, princess~" Jeno groaned as he sunk inside of you, as hot, tight, and wet as always. He loved watching your little pussy take his big cock as your little body shook under his big one. Your finger nails tried to dig into the glass of the coffee table to no avail. As soon as he bottomed out, you came, he could feel the characteristic squeeze. Your boyfriend started as your orgasm faded, your hips knocking into the lip of the table, and it would have hurt a lot more if it wasn't rounded. The glass under you began to fog at the heat of your body and from your panting breaths. Your eyes lazily fixed on the discarded banana from earlier, a fallen soldier who performed it's job so well.

"Fuck!" You gasped when Jeno's hands pulled you back, even so much as to make you slide back on the floor and off the table. Your hands and cheek softly fell onto the rug, the new angle letting his cock hit you even deeper. Your fingers finally had something to grip as he railed you, sweat beading down his brow, his tongue stuck out of the side of his mouth in concentration. He knew he looked like a rutting dog fucking a bitch in heat, which is what you looked and sounded like too. He loved that you couldn't control yourself when he was balls deep in you. Jeno huffed when he saw your face, cock-drunk and red, eyes glazed over, mouth open.

"You're so good for me, pumpkin." He smirked when your shoulder's twitched, the word triggering your submissive mode.

"s'good daddy~" You whined and he full on laughed, head tilted back, his hard swallow bobbing his adam's apple. You could see most of him from the corner on your eye and you hadn't even realized he had taken his hoodie and shirt off, his delicious body on display. He was a sex deity or something, you were convinced. With the way he looked, the size of his cock and the way he moved his hips, either that or he was a sex-robot that got loose. His thrusts started to stutter, getting shallower but no less hard.

"Want daddy to cum inside, pumpkin?"

"Yessss~" You nearly cried and with three more pumps, your insides flooded with heat, and you fell over the edge too. Even awhile after your orgasms had faded, you both kneeled on the floor. Jeno panted, wondering if he should keep going for your sake, even though he knew he could get hard again. He wasn't even sure you were awake. Chuckling lightly, he looked up to the banana on the table.

"Thanks, little buddy."

🍉 Mark 🍉

🍇 Renjun 🍇

🍒 Haechan 🍒

🍑 Jaemin 🍑

🍓 Chenle 🍓

🍍 Jisung 🍍

Masterlist

285 notes · View notes

domjaehyun · 1 year

Text

PL4YG1RL IS LIVE…

“are you lonely? are you stressed out? you deserve some fun. get your headphones, lock up the bedroom door, log on.” — PL4YG1RL, LOLO ZOUAÏ

PAIRING(S). na jaemin x fem!reader GENRE(S). thriller/suspense, yandere, smut, angst WORD COUNT. 20.6k WARNINGS. noncon, stalking, kidnapping, violence, mentions of blood, explicit smut (protected sex, unprotected sex, forced breeding, oral (receiving), nipple play (receiving), masturbation (male & female), defiling of a stuffed animal, fingering, i think that’s it) SUMMARY. you’re an up-and-coming camgirl, and na jaemin is a loyal supporter of your work–that is, until jaemin decides to take things to the next level. PLAYLIST. PL4YG1RL - Lolo Zouaï, ALL MINE - Brent Faiyaz, ALL UP IN YOUR MIND - Beyoncé, Can I - Kehlani, Menace - Dounia

NOTES. hello… don’t crucify me. this is for halloween :) *insert obligatory “i don’t think these people are actually like this” statement that will protect me from anon hate* *insert compulsory “read the warnings and don’t come for me about content i warned you about” statement that will also protect me from anon hate*

if you read this fic, you assume full responsibility for consuming the content below, whether you read the warnings or not.

Saturday night, and Jaemin has nothing to do.

He sends a text to his group chat to see what they're up to before remembering it’s well past midnight. Rubbing a hand over his face, Jaemin pulls his laptop toward his body and onto his stomach. His fingers move of their own accord, typing in his favorite adult entertainment website and waiting as it loads.

Index and middle fingers lazily scrolling through the copious amounts of explicit videos, Jaemin sighs heavily before an ad for a cam girl website catches his eye. A moment of hesitation, then a click takes him to the webpage, the background a lovely shade of pink as all the elements of the page load.

Jaemin is met with thumbnails of pretty girls in various states of undress, but no one is scratching the itch he has which is building up inside of him. A banner drops down from the top of the screen, attracting Jaemin’s attention.

PrettyKitty345 is now live.

Out of curiosity, he clicks, and the screen buffers for a moment before loading up a pretty girl with dark brown hair gazing seductively into the camera. Jaemin lingers for a moment until she speaks, her voice a perfect match for the sultry look she’s giving the viewers.

Jaemin’s not into that, really. He likes them a little less deliberate, more effortlessly pretty. He clicks away and another banner comes down as if enticing Jaemin to stay on the website just a bit longer.

FunBunny is now live.

Another curious click brings Jaemin to the live feed of another pretty girl with white bunny ears on, whose voice is high and soft, a blatant contrast to PrettyKitty345 from earlier. Her performance is a bit too…childlike for Jaemin’s taste, discomfort swirling in his belly as he clicks away.

PL4YG1RL is now live.

Jaemin sighs. He clicks—out of boredom, he tells himself—to enter the live feed. The second the screen finishes loading, Jaemin freezes in surprise.

You are quite literally the most beautiful person he’s ever seen.

Sitting up slowly, Jaemin moves the laptop to rest between his legs as he studies your setup carefully.

“Hello, pretty girl,” Jaemin whispers, his throat suddenly feeling dry. “Where did you come from?”

You’re sitting on your heels on your bed, wearing a lacy pink slip dress and a sweet, kind expression. Jaemin can practically feel the warmth radiating from your gaze, and he wets his lips as he sits forward, waiting for you to speak.

“Hi, everyone,” you say, and Jaemin’s eyes squeeze shut as he groans in ecstasy.

You’re perfect. Your voice is every bit as lovely as you look, and there’s something so genuine about the way you carry yourself on camera that has Jaemin falling rapidly.

“How is everyone doing? Have you all had a good day today?” you ask, and Jaemin scrambles to reply, a window popping up that blocks the chat.

“‘You will need an account to participate in the live chat’—oh, fuck.” Jaemin mumbles, opening a new window and quickly signing up with the website. It asks for a payment option so you can send tips, so Jaemin brings his laptop with him to his coat pocket in the foyer of his house, fumbling single handedly with taking out his wallet and pulling out a card.

Meanwhile, you’re reading through the responses coming in from the chat. “You’ve had a bad day, NiceGuy19? I’m sorry to hear that,” you frown and Jaemin’s heart clenches at how cute you are. He finishes inputting his credit card information and the window preventing him from typing in the chat box disappears.

NaJaem13: had a good day

NaJaem13: was feeling kinda bored though

He makes his way back to his bedroom, climbing onto his bed and setting the laptop back down.

“NaJaem13, you’re bored? I’m kinda bored, too.” you hum, and Jaemin feels a fluttering in his chest. “Maybe we could entertain each other,” you propose, a playful smile curling your lips, and Jaemin decides in that exact moment that he’s sticking around in this stream until it’s over.

NaJaem13: sounds good :)

Jaemin watches, content, as you make conversation with other patrons, and when you start playing soft R&B music in the background and swaying to the music with a pleasant smile, tips start to come in.

First it’s 20 tokens, which, Jaemin quickly searches up, is barely anything. Your eyes light up, however, and you thank the tipper gratefully.

Next comes 50 tokens, and it’s almost as if it’s a competition between the bidders, Jaemin watching in silent awe as the numbers increase to 75, 100, 150, 200– You can barely thank the donors quickly enough, a delighted laugh tumbling off your tongue that has Jaemin’s heart soaring.

Jaemin thanks his lucky stars that he just got paid this Thursday, and with a few clicks of his trackpad, he tips you 350 tokens.

“Thank you so much, NaJaem13!” You smile widely, bouncing slightly in place with excitement. Jaemin’s heart clenches; he’d do anything for that smile.

NiceGuy19: how much to take your dress off?

Jaemin can’t help but bristle at how forward “NiceGuy” is. Your brows raise in intrigue as you read through the chat, replying as best as you can to the messages coming in.

“NiceGuy19, if you’d like me to start taking clothes off, I have my goals for tonight on the display next to my feed,” you say politely.

Sure enough, Jaemin looks at the text to the left of your feed and sees that there are options to have you remove your dress, underwear, bra, dance around, play with a vibrator, dildo, or other sex toys, and Jaemin’s brain honestly fizzles out at the options asking you to do more. His mind is reeling thinking about his hands on your hips, moving you from position to position—

Jaemin’s hand finds his length before he even knows it, fingers gripping the thick base of his shaft and pumping his fist up and down.

Tips start escalating in value, the counter of tips received going up and nearing the numbers listed in your goals, and Jaemin hisses in delight when you run your hand up from your lap and over your breast to fix your hair casually. When you move to sit cross-legged on the bed, Jaemin catches a flash of your light pink underwear before you press your dress down between your legs and smile demurely.

Jaemin’s hand speeds up, pumping his length in his fist rapidly as he daydreams about stripping you of your dress, running his hand over the lace of your underwear and toying with you until a pretty little damp spot appears in the seat of them. Then he’d pull them down your legs slowly, revealing your bare core, and tuck himself under your thighs, bringing his face level to your glistening—

Jaemin’s cumming before he even knows it, his release spurting out and landing on his shirt before the last drops dribble down his fist; he keeps going, however—fucking his hand slowly until he can’t bear it anymore and releasing himself with a shudder and a tensing of his abdomen that borders on painful.

Catching his breath, Jaemin watches you in a daze, eyes heavy-lidded as they drink in the sight of you. He studies your face, admiring your lips—

How he wishes to see those pretty lips wrapped around his fingers or his cock. How he’d love to watch them moan his name as he pleases you.

He watches your eyes—

So sweet and unsuspecting; he wants to watch those pretty eyes glaze over when he turns you into a pretty, drooling mess. He’d love to see your eyes all glossy with tears when he breaks you into the perfect little fuckdoll for him.

Your neck—

His hands itch to wrap around your neck, squeeze until you’re gasping for air, and release you not a moment too soon, lips littering kisses all over the heated skin as you desperately suck in fresh gulps of air.

He wants to fucking ruin you—destroy you, break you, make you his and utterly his alone. The desire is building, and it’s building rapidly—Jaemin has never felt this way before.

His gaze drops to your legs, lifts to your breasts, runs over your body eagerly—

His tongue gliding over the swell of your breasts, fingers digging into your thighs greedily, hot and hungry—ripping off your clothes and revealing you to him, raw, bare, vulnerable; he wants you utterly exposed so he can take you for himself. Ruin any other man for you, have his name on the tip of your tongue every time you climax, memories of his touch ghosting over your most sensitive places at any given moment—

The rest of your live is short—technical difficulties cause you to have to end the stream earlier than expected with a precious frown and sweet, sincere apology—but you promise to see everyone again at the same time on Tuesday night, and Jaemin already knows he’ll be there because he’s sure of one thing, and one thing only.

Jaemin wants you—and he wants you bad.

You check your reflection in the camera one last time before sitting back and clicking the live button. Casually scrolling through your phone, you wait for viewers to come in, adjusting the light pink slip you’re wearing.

NiceGuy19: hi playgirl

“Hi, NiceGuy19,” you say with a smile, looking into the camera as you speak next. “Are you doing alright tonight?”

NiceGuy19: doing so well now that you’re live

“Oh, thank you,” you chuckle bashfully.

A few more comments start to roll in as your live picks up traction, and you do your best to answer each one, giving everyone the attention they’re requesting.

A familiar handle pops up and you can’t help but smile.

“Hi, NaJaem13,” you smile just a bit wider, wanting to really cater to the user who gives the most generous tips. “It’s nice to see you again.”

NaJaem13: couldn’t stay away from you

“You’re so smooth,” you laugh, amused by his boldness. “You must have broken a lot of hearts, huh?”

NaJaem13: maybe a few

“I missed you last week,” you pout at the camera, and several tips come in. “You left me.”

NaJaem13: won’t happen again

NaJaem13: i promise

He can promise anything he wants as long as the tips keep coming in. You smile at his response and proceed to give your other tippers attention—they paid for a show and you’ll give them one.

You’re still playing it up for the camera, answering a few more questions and thanking the tippers, when a hefty tip and a comment by NaJaem13 catch your eye.

NaJaem13: wish i could have you to myself

You can’t help but raise a brow in intrigue, silently hoping he’s as attractive as he seems.

“NaJaem13, you can always book me for a private show,” you offer, pointing to the left of your screen at the drop down list of booking options.

NaJaem13: my name is Jaemin btw

“Nice to meet you, Jaemin,” you coo, giving a small wave to the camera.

A banner notification drops down on your screen and you read the words curiously.

NiceGuy19 has requested a private show.

You mask your disappointment—that wasn’t exactly who you were aiming for, but it’s still a good thing—and click ‘Accept,’ the time of the show taking you by surprise.

You’re not sure if NiceGuy19 and NaJaem13—Jaemin, you think; his name is Jaemin—are in some sort of competition, but it doesn’t seem like a coincidence that he booked you for a show for the duration of the time you would be on live…right after you offered a private show to Jaemin.

You actually don’t fully care if they’re beefing or whatever—the money in your pocket is taking no sides—so you just flash a regretful smile at the camera, fixing your hair.

“I’m sorry, everyone, but I have a private show scheduled for right now; I have to cut the live short.” you frown apologetically, and several responses, ranging from sad to annoyed to understanding, flood the chat. “I know, guys, I’m sorry, truly. I’ll be here next week for sure, okay?”

NiceGuy19: see you in a minute ;)

NaJaem13: have fun NiceGuy

NaJaem13: have a good night playgirl :)

“You too, Jaemin,” you hum kindly, giving one last wave before turning off the camera.

Things escalate the following week when Jaemin decides he isn’t about to let NiceGuy19 swoop in and steal you away again.

After a couple of moments of futzing around on the website page, Jaemin finds the link to book you for a private session and fumbles through the process with excited fingers. He books you for tonight, right after your public show, and sits back in excitement as he waits for his time alone with you.

PL4YG1RL has accepted your request for a private show.

His phone lights up, likely a confirmation from his banking app that the transaction went through, and Jaemin can’t help but wince at the steep deduction his account’s going to be hit with.

It’s worth it, though, because he gets you.

After what feels like ages, your show finally ends and the display goes black. A buffering symbol appears on the screen, only heightening his anticipation for you.

After a couple of minutes, your screen loads and Jaemin is practically blown away by your beauty.

Yes, he just saw you, but he’ll never get tired of watching you.

“Hi, NaJaem,” you hum, smiling. “My favorite viewer—how are you tonight?”

Jaemin’s mouth goes dry as he sits forward to type out a reply.

NaJaem13: i’m better now that you’re here

NaJaem13: how’s my favorite girl doing?

“Your favorite girl? Stop, you’ll make me shy,” you laugh, and Jaemin smiles widely even though you can’t see him.

NaJaem13: i like you shy

NaJaem13: it’s cute

“You’re such a charmer,” you giggle. “Is there something you’d like me to do for you tonight?”

Jaemin thinks for a minute; he didn’t fully have a plan—he just wanted you all to himself for a night.

You’re patient while he thinks, humming a soft tune to yourself, and Jaemin marvels at just how lovely you are.

His eyes land on something almost out of frame, and he smiles.

NaJaem13: is that a stuffed animal?

Your head cocks to the side in confusion and Jaemin coos affectionately, finding you adorable. You look around you, your eyes lighting up in recognition as you pull a large teddy bear onto the screen from out of frame.

“Yes, it is!” you chirp, and Jaemin wets his lips with his tongue before typing out another message.

NaJaem13: i want you to ride that teddy bear until you cum

NaJaem13: can you do that for me?

Your eyes widen as you look from the screen to the stuffed animal in your hands and back to the screen. Nibbling your lower lip pensively, you nod, and Jaemin could just burst with excitement. You bring your setup to your bed before lying the bear down and straddling it. You start to rock your hips against the tan plushie, your brows furrowing in concentration, and Jaemin watches you with hungry eyes, his hand moving to palm himself through his sweats.

NaJaem13: just like that, angel

NaJaem13: doing so good

You whimper as your eyes flick to the screen, and he groans in delight, squeezing himself harder and starting to stroke himself.

NaJaem13: how does it feel?

“So good,” you exhale shakily, and he grunts, pushing into his boxers and gripping his length, hot and heavy, at the base.

NaJaem13: you look so pretty right now

NaJaem13: can you say my name, angel?

“Jaemin,” you moan, rocking onto the stuffie more eagerly. Your hands move from the bed to graze up your legs and torso until they’re cupping your breasts, squeezing them and shuddering with pleasure. “Jaemin, I think I’m close.” Your words come out as breathy pants that have Jaemin’s hand eagerly speeding up as he pumps his fist up and down his cock.

NaJaem13: good

NaJaem13: keep going baby. just like that

“Jaemin, can I cum?” you ask, desperation all over your face, and Jaemin nods vigorously, feeling his own climax approach, before realizing that you can’t see him.

NaJaem13: you can cum, angel

NaJaem13: cum for nana

“Nana,” you plead in a broken whine, and Jaemin watches in awe as your rocking speeds up—he tries to match the pace with his hand—and your head tips back as your climax hits. Whimpers fall from your lips freely until you bite your lip to stifle the sounds—an action, Jaemin notes, that he wishes you hadn’t done.

You are, without a doubt, the most mesmerizing sight he’s laid his eyes on in ages, and Jaemin’s climax comes rushing in without a moment’s hesitation.

Jaemin’s cock throbs in his hand and his eyes shut tightly as he thrusts up into his hand, cum spilling from the slit and dribbling down his fist, warm and wet and white.

“God, fuck,” he groans in delight, eagerly sitting forward to study you closely. You’re still straddling the stuffed animal, and your eyes are visibly glazed over even through the computer screen. There’s a beautiful lazy, content smile on your lips, and Jaemin wishes he could take you in his arms and kiss your smile over and over again.

NaJaem13: you are so beautiful

NaJaem13: you did such a good job

“Jaemin, please, all this praise is getting to my head,” you joke, grinning bashfully, and he can’t help but chuckle fondly.

NaJaem13: good

NaJaem13: you deserve it

NaJaem13: wish i could see that pretty smile in person

You look away shyly, smiling and there’s a moment that passes in which Jaemin realizes you’re debating on whether or not to say something.

NaJaem13: what’s wrong?

“Nothing, actually,” you say sincerely, and Jaemin hums in intrigue. “I just wanted to let you know that I have some in-person slots—”

Holy shit.

NaJaem13: i’ll be sure to book one with you

“Oh—awesome,” you reply, smiling sweetly. Jaemin’s heart could burst right now and he’d die a happy man. “The link is that way,” you explain, pointing to the left of the screen, and sure enough, there’s a series of links, one titled “Book a Session.”

NaJaem13: found it

You shoot him a thumbs up before looking off-screen for a moment, whatever you lay eyes on making you frown cutely. “I’m sorry, but we only have about three more minutes together tonight.”

NaJaem13: don’t worry about it

NaJaem13: get some sleep

Jaemin sends you a generous tip, your eyes widening in surprise when it shows up on your screen.

“Thank you, Jaemin,” you say gratefully, a shocked but pleased smile on your pretty lips. “Hopefully I see you again soon.”

NaJaem13: you will

You wave for a moment, then the screen goes black and a message shows up on the screen.

Your session with PL4YG1RL has ended.

Jaemin doesn’t want to let you book with anyone else; not after having you all to himself. He clicks the link you pointed to a moment ago, impatiently drumming his fingers on the keyboard as it loads, and the new page shows a calendar with appointment slots highlighted. Jaemin books the earliest available appointment for Tuesday at 4:00pm and sits back excitedly as the confirmation page loads.

Your appointment has been booked. Please check your email for your confirmation and further instructions.

Jaemin navigates to his email and reads over the list of stipulations. They seem standard and easy enough—like submitting a clean and recent STI test update—and a set of rules during the session—like always wearing a condom—and Jaemin scrolls and scrolls and scrolls some more until he sees the address you’re supposed to meet up at, and he smiles widely, saving it to his notes.

Three days until Jaemin meets the object of his affections. Jaemin feels like a child on Christmas Eve—well, the eve of Christmas Eve’s eve. He can hardly wait.

Jaemin sits in the hotel lobby, knee bouncing nervously as he waits for you. He scans the faces of everyone who enters the lobby curiously, his heart falling in disappointment when none of them are you.

You’re not late, Jaemin’s just early—and eager.

As a matter of fact, you walk in right on time, more beautiful than ever in a cute blouse and skirt combination. He doesn’t think he’s ever been so excited in his life.

He stands up and walks over to you, smiling when you two lock eyes.

“Jaemin?” you say curiously, and he nods, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

He is beyond handsome, you think. You got lucky.

“Hey,” he replies, stepping a bit closer to you.

“Hi,” you parrot, admittedly taken aback by how attractive he is. “Are you, um, ready to go up?”

“I was actually thinking we could…hang out, kind of.” Jaemin says carefully, scanning your face for any sort of negative reaction.

“Oh?” you ask. “Like a date?”

“Yeah!” he confirms. “Like a date.”

“Okay,” you agree, smiling at the prospect of a date with him.

“We can go out to a café or restaurant, maybe? Only if you want. It’d be my treat.” he proposes, and your smile widens. He’s cute when he’s nervous.

“Sounds good to me.”

He grins and offers you his arm, your brows raising in an impressed surprise at his manners as you take it, the two of you heading towards the front door.

“So tell me about yourself, Jaemin,” you say, raising an eyebrow curiously. You two sit in a café over drinks and pastries, Jaemin eager to get to know you.

“Oh, uh…I don’t know,” he answers with a chuckle. “I’m in college…I have a brother…”

“Ooh, college?” you ask. “What are you studying?”

“Photography,” he answers, and you let out an impressed hum.

“Very cool,” you say encouragingly. “And you mentioned a brother? Older or younger?”

“Older,” Jaemin replies. “He’s a cop, actually.”

“Oh, wow.” you murmur, intrigued.

“Can I hear more about you?” Jaemin asks, sitting forward. “What do you like? What do you like to do?”

“Hm,” you muse, looking up in thought. “I like deer,” you finally answer, “and bunnies.”

Jaemin thinks that’s fitting for you.

“I like my job,” you continue. “Meeting all these different people is interesting.”

“Can I ask you a question?” Jaemin’s thoughts won’t stay quiet, urging him to get them off of his chest.

“Shoot.”

“Do you ever fake it?”

“Fake…?” Your head tilts to the side in confusion.

Jaemin already regrets asking. “Um, I mean, like, when you’re with other clients, and you—”

“I know what you mean, Jaemin,” you laugh. “I’m just teasing.”

“Oh, thank God.”

“Off the record? All the time.”

“No way.” Jaemin can’t hide his shock.

“I probably fake it more times than I don’t.” You shrug, and he sits back in surprise.

“And that doesn’t get exhausting for you?”

“I can’t lie, it’s kind of fun to play it up every time.” you murmur conspiratorially, and Jaemin laughs.

You’re playful. You’re letting him know things you don’t tell other people.

There’s definitely something here.

“How do you know they don’t know you’re faking it?” he asks curiously, and you raise an eyebrow at him.

“Jaemin.”

“Hm?”

“You really think they care if I finish or not?”

“Oh,” Jaemin mutters. He hadn’t thought about that. “I would care.”

“Oh, yeah?” you hum playfully, nudging his foot with yours under the table. “Well, thank you. I’ll keep that in mind for next time.”

Jaemin’s heart could give out right now. You’re flirting with him.

“Next time?” he says hopefully. “So I can see you again?”

You give him a small but flirtatious smile. “That’s up to you.”

The first session ends as well as Jaemin could have hoped. You got a little beneath surface level with him, flirted with him, laughed with him—Jaemin thinks you might even be starting to like him.

He saw the way you eyed him when you first met; you’re definitely attracted to him.

So he books you again.

And again.

And…again.

Jaemin can barely keep his eyes off of you. All you’re doing is ordering a drink at the counter, but you’re a vision of beauty in a soft yellow flowing dress, your hair tastefully styled away from your face, and his mind is racing with everything he wants to do to you.

It’s your fourth time together, and Jaemin still hasn’t made a move. He wants you so badly but wants you to want him too, so he’s been trying to get closer to you. He thinks it’s working, actually, because you seem to brighten whenever you catch sight of him.

And all of that is well and good, but it doesn’t solve the problem he’s having right now. The very sight of you has his cock stirring in his pants.

“Are you okay, Jaemin?” you ask curiously, snapping him out of his thoughts. You’re looking at him with furrowed brows of concern, and Jaemin almost feels bad for worrying you.

“I’m alright,” he assures you, leaning forward to pay for your drink, and your face relaxes, the two of you walking over to the other side of the counter to wait for your drink. He stands just behind you, scanning your frame with desiring eyes. When you shift your weight from one foot to the other, a waft of your delicate perfume drifts into his face, and he has to control himself to restrain the groan that builds in his throat.

He decides to make his move—this isn’t how he planned for things to go today, but fuck it—and place his hands on your hips, squeezing you and pulling you closer to him.

“Hi,” you laugh, craning your neck to look back at him.

“Mm,” Jaemin nuzzles into your hair and breathes in the sweet scent of your shampoo. “Hi. You smell so good.”

“Thank you,” you chuckle, leaning back against him.

“And you look even better.” His voice is lower now, more seductive, and you hesitate, his tone piquing your curiosity and stirring up arousal in your stomach.

“T-Thank you,” you mumble, feeling shy now, and it’s Jaemin’s turn to chuckle, nosing past your hair to trail his lips along the shell of your ear. You take in a sharp breath at the somewhat ticklish sensation, your head tilting of its own accord to allow him more access to your neck.

His soft exhale sends warmth fanning over the sensitive area of skin, and you squirm slightly, arousal building as his lips press wet, slow, purposeful kisses down your ear to the spot just behind it.

“Jaemin,” you warn softly, your voice whinier and huskier than you expected it to be. “We can’t do this here.”

He peppers light kisses down your neck until he’s at the juncture of your neck and shoulder, where he gently bites the skin there, relishing the whine you let out.

“I have an iced chai latte with almond milk!” the barista calls, and you move forward to pick it up, only to find yourself restrained by Jaemin’s strong arm anchoring you against him.

“Jaemin,” you whisper, “I have to get the drink.” You can’t help but laugh when he shuffles forwards with you to pick up the cup before you turn around—not without difficulty—in his embrace to face him, your eyes drifting from his darkened, lust-filled ones to his lips and back up. “What’s gotten into you?”

“Do you have any idea how good you look?” he groans, and you blink twice, stunned by the wave of arousal that has overcome him. “That little dress is just tempting me.”

You cock an eyebrow curiously. “Tempting you to do what?”

Jaemin leans in so your lips are barely apart from each other and wets his lips, his gaze dropping to your mouth. “Rip it off of you.” He doesn’t give you a chance to respond, instead closing the distance between you two in a kiss—your first one together—that leaves you reeling. You suck in a breath of air when your lips part, Jaemin immediately pulling you back to him with a deeper kiss, his tongue playing almost lazily with yours. He sucks on your bottom lip and releases you from the liplock when you tap his chest repeatedly to get his attention.

“The hotel down the block,” you murmur against his mouth as he strokes your cheek with his thumb, “the one we met at. I have a room.”

“Let’s go,” he says immediately, linking his fingers with yours and tugging you after him.

You two manage to make it back to the hotel quickly, hustling into the elevator where Jaemin all but pounces on you, pressing you up against the wall as the doors slide shut. The rail behind you digs uncomfortably into your back, but Jaemin’s lips on your neck distract you enough to the point where you no longer care.

“Wanted to do this for so long,” he grunts, sucking at the base of your neck and dragging his teeth along the patch of skin, making you gasp. “You’re so fucking tempting.”

“Jaemin,” you moan, your fingers sliding up his back to curl in his hair at the nape of his neck and tug. “That feels so good.” Desire blooms between your legs, warmth radiating out from your core to the rest of your body as you feel arousal start to leak from you.

“Yeah?” he hums, moving back up to kiss your lips. “Gonna make you feel even better.”

As if on cue, the elevator dings and the doors open on your floor, the two of you quickly making your way down the hall to your hotel room. Jaemin chuckles as you fumble around in your purse for the room key card, finally managing to catch it between your fingers and pull it out victoriously.

You swipe the two of you in, and Jaemin barely lets the door shut before he’s pressing you up against the wall, his thigh slotting between your legs with ease. He threads his fingers in your hair, thumb caressing your jaw, and tilts your head towards him for easier access. His free hand slides around your waist, resting on the small of your back and pulling you closer to him.

“Jaemin,” you pant, pushing at his jacket to get it off of his shoulders and finally discarding it on the floor, “the bed.”

“Can’t I play with you a little bit right here?” he hums teasingly, his hand dropping from your back to hike up the hem of your dress. He strokes up the smooth flesh of your inner thigh and you hiss in pleasure, parting your legs wider for him.

“Yeah,” you exhale, and he grins.

“Mm, yeah?”

“Yes, Jaemin, please?” You sound impatient, and Jaemin smiles at the thought of you as desperate as him.

“Okay, angel,” he acquiesces, slipping his hand up higher until they’re stroking the lace of your underwear. His fingers push the garment aside until he’s taunting you by stroking at your folds which are now slick with arousal, and the whine that spills from your lips is well worth the wait.

“More,” you whisper, and his fingers dip into your wetness immediately, eager to give you everything you want and then some.

“How’s that?” he muses, a playful smile on his lips as two of his fingers push into you, and you cry out in pleasure, gripping his shoulder with one hand to brace yourself as he curls his fingers and starts pumping them inside of you.

“S’good,” you whine, your head tipping back against the wall, and Jaemin presses his lips against yours firmly, startling you.

“I don’t want you faking it,” he urges, and your eyes widen as you nod, having forgotten you told him about that.

“I won’t,” you promise breathlessly, and he smiles, his fingers speeding up inside of you. “Just like that, oh, God—”

“You’re so wet,” he hums, the tip of his tongue flicking at your bottom lip teasingly. “You must really like me.” When your only reply is a plaintive moan, he grins proudly and kisses down to your collarbone, biting it gently as his fingers continue to thrust into you. It’s not too long before his fingers fuck directly into your g-spot and your hips start unconsciously grinding down to get more of him inside of you.

“Jaemin—”

“Nana,” he corrects, suddenly overcome with the need to hear you call him by his nickname.

“Nana—” you moan, “I’m close, I’m so close—”

“Yeah? Are you gonna cum all over my fingers, angel?” he’s practically taunting you, and the anticipation builds in your chest just as your pleasure builds in your lower abdomen.

“Yes,” you whimper. “Yes, yes, please?”

“Cum for me, baby.” Jaemin watches in fascination as you ride his fingers to your climax, your chest pushing into his as your back arches, and he doesn’t think he’s ever seen a prettier sight in his life.

When your climax finally subsides, you look at him with pretty, glazed over eyes and a shy yet beguiling smile that has Jaemin wanting to pin you down and make you cum over and over again.

But first, Jaemin has something else on his mind.

“Angel?” Jaemin asks carefully, and you cock your head curiously, waiting for his next words. “Can I feel your mouth around me?”

You don’t say anything, but your smile widens and you sink to your knees, opening his pants teasingly slowly, eyes locked on his until your hand wraps around the thick base of his length.

“You’re so big,” you hum in delight, and Jaemin smiles fondly, the expression dropping off his face abruptly when you exhale warm air over the head of his length, a small laugh falling from your lips when he shudders and he twitches in your hand.

You lay your tongue out flat, blinking up at him before dragging your tongue up his length slowly, swirling it around the tip before wrapping your lips around him and starting to bob your head up and down, your hands stroking at what you can’t yet fit in your mouth.

“God, fuck,” Jaemin grunts, his brows knitting together as you suck him off. You pull off of him and look him directly in the eyes as you let saliva drip off your tongue and onto his length. The wet warmth sliding down his cock only makes Jaemin hiss in pleasure when you resume your actions of sucking and stroking, using the spit as lubricant.

“So good,” he croaks, thrusting forward unconsciously. His cock hits the back of your throat and your throat constricts as you gag slightly, the sensation feeling like bliss to Jaemin. “Shit, sorry,” he apologizes, and you shake your head, pulling off of him.

“Do it again,” you urge, and his brows raise up so high they practically disappear into his hairline.

“You want it, yeah?” He’s breathless, his hand wrapping over yours and aiding you in stroking him. “Angel wants Nana’s cock in her pretty little mouth?”

“Yes,” you say, pouting, and Jaemin feels like his heart could just explode. “Please, Nana?”

“Holy fuck,” he mumbles, awestruck and in heaven. “Anything for you, angel. Open up.” He taps his cock against your lips, grinning when you part them and let your tongue loll out of your mouth. He rubs the head of his length against your tongue for a moment before slowly pushing into your mouth and starting to thrust. The faint wet gagging noises only add to the ambience, Jaemin’s grunts and pants helping to create a lustful soundscape.

“You like when I fuck your pretty little mouth?” he asks, and you nod, whining around him and sending vibrations all down his length. “You are so perfect,” he murmurs, infatuated with the sight of you on your knees for him.

His thrusts speed up until he’s fucking into your mouth with sharp pumps, low groans leaving his lips freely.

You’re taking it like a champ, Jaemin thinks, watching in fascination as your eyes go glassy, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes before they start spilling down your cheeks. You are the prettiest thing he has ever seen, and the realization and wave of adoration he feels has him pulling out of your mouth abruptly.

“On the bed,” he urges, and you oblige, moving to sit at the edge of the bed. He hovers over you, encroaching on your space until you’re on your back, a playful smile on your lips as you look up at him. “Let’s get these off,” he murmurs, hiking up your dress to hook his fingers in your underwear and pull them off your legs. When your glistening core is exposed to him, he groans, pumping his cock in his fist slowly as he adjusts you further up the bed.

Jaemin fishes out the condom he brought from his pants pocket on the floor, ripping the package open and rolling it on impatiently, before he presses his cock against your core, the head nestling between your folds to rest just before your entrance.

He pushes into you slowly, a whoosh of relief leaving his lungs, and you clench around him, mewling at the sensation of him filling you up.

“So big,” you moan, and he leans over you again to capture your lips with his, kissing you sweetly to distract you from the discomfort as it ebbs away.

“You’re so good,” Jaemin mumbles in a daze, silently praying you adjust soon so he can fuck you. “Doing so well.”

“You can move,” you urge him in a soft voice, and he presses another kiss to your lips before straightening his back, draping one of your legs over his shoulder and pulling out to the tip before burying himself in your walls once more.

He quickly builds up a pace that has broken moans falling from your lips and grunts from his, the sounds of skin slapping against skin resonating through the hotel room.

“Feels so good, angel,” Jaemin practically babbles, losing his sensibility the longer he fucks you. “So tight and wet, shit—”

You respond with a flex of your walls around his length that draws an uncharacteristic whimper from him, and he can feel the beginnings of his climax stirring just behind his navel. He brings two fingers to his mouth and withdraws the now spit-slicked digits to bring them to your clit, massaging circles into the sensitive bud.

You’re in bliss as Jaemin stimulates your clit with skillful strokes. He thrusts into you at a different angle than before and your nails dig into the bedspread as his tip kisses your g-spot.

“Oh, my God, right there!” You cry, and he grins smugly, complying and thrusting into the sensitive patch of nerves over and over again as your climax approaches rapidly. “Jaemin—” you plead, rocking back against him desperately.

“Are you gonna cum again, angel?” he coos sweetly, and his grin only widens at your eager nod. “Good; cum for me, baby. Cum all over Nana’s cock.”

Pleasure washes over you in waves as your orgasm rushes through your body, and all you can do is whimper Jaemin’s name over and over as you ride out your high.

“Hang in there, baby, I’m close,” he groans, his thrusts speeding up as he focuses on getting himself to finish. He cums not long after you do, releasing into the condom with a shudder rippling down his spine. He hangs his head as he catches his breath and slowly pulls out of you, tying off the condom and heading to the garbage bin by the side of the bed. “Are you okay?” he asks, and you smile blissfully, nodding.

“I’m great,” you assure him, and he sighs in relief.

“Good,” he replies. “Hold on one second,” he murmurs, disappearing into the bathroom for a moment and returning with a damp washcloth and you giggle as he cleans you up and then himself.

“You’re such a gentleman,” you say, smiling, and he shrugs bashfully. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” he answers softly, lying down on the bed beside you after he’s pulled his boxers back up. “Was that good?” His voice sounds more worried than he planned to let on, but there’s no taking it back now.

“It was amazing, Jaemin,” you reassure him, and he nods, smiling shyly.

Jaemin really thinks this could be something special. He’s sure of one thing—he’s definitely booking you at every available opportunity.

“Girl, where are you headed today?” Yuna laughs incredulously as you start packing up your things.

“I have an appointment.” You smile secretively, and Ryujin sits up from her spot on the couch, a skeptical furrow between her brows.

“With that same guy from earlier this week?” She asks, and you nod. “You do realize that he’s booked you literally every day this week, right?”

“Of course I realize that,” you snort in amusement. “More importantly, my bank account realizes that.”

“You see that guy more times in a week than you do us,” Yuna huffs with a pout, and you mirror her expression sympathetically.

“You’re being dramatic; there’s no way I’ve seen him more than you guys,” you reply, and Yuna rolls her eyes, Ryujin sighing in mild frustration.

“It’s the principle of the thing!” Ryujin exclaims, and you shoot her a look.

“Be for real,” you say flatly. “Think of it like…I work in a diner, and I’m picking up extra shifts.”

“Things must be getting real heated in that diner if he keeps coming back.” Ryujin teases, and you throw the nearest item—a pillow from Yuna’s couch—at her, laughing when it hits its mark.

“You know, he’s actually really good in bed. It’s kind of crazy that he’s single,” you muse thoughtfully. “Besides, sometimes we don’t even have sex.”

“Really?” Ryujin raises her eyebrows in surprise.

“Does he ask you to do kinky fetish stuff, like walk on his back in stilettos?” Yuna asks curiously, and you and Ryujin look at her, bewildered.

“Wh—Where did that even come from?” Ryujin laughs.

“You know, I have actually done that before…but, no, not for him.” You wave off Ryujin’s and Yuna’s intrigued spluttering and continue on with, “I mean, sometimes we just…go get coffee, hang out, watch movies.”

“These just sound like paid dates.” Yuna points out, and you shrug.

“I mean, if he’s paying, he can ask me to do damn near anything, really,” you laugh, and Ryujin snickers.

“Well, we won’t hold you up, okay? Go get that bag!” she chirps, and you blink at her slowly.

“…Stop picking up lingo from TikTok,” you say as your final words before you bid them goodbye with a wave and head out of Yuna’s apartment to go meet up with Jaemin.

“Whose pretty pussy is this?” Jaemin coos at you as he fucks into you, your legs over his shoulders as he presses you into the mattress.

“Yours, Jaemin,” you gasp loudly, and he shoots you that winning smile of his, turning his head to kiss your calf.

“No one fucks you like I do,” Jaemin grunts, cupping your chin with one hand and making eye contact with you. There’s an almost crazed look in his eyes, a wild energy that thrills you to your core. “No one could ever treat this pussy as good as I do.”

“No one,” you whimper in agreement, your mind slipping away as he thrusts into you. “Only you, Jaemin.”

“Love this pussy so much,” he mutters almost to himself, biting down on his bottom lip so hard you can see the pink skin of his lips surrounding his bite turning white. “Wanna keep you for myself—you’re all fucking mine.”

“‘M yours,” you mumble, slurring slightly as the pleasure clouds your brain. “Jaemin, I’m gonna—”

“Come for me, angel,” he urges, and you fall apart around him without waiting another moment, crying his name out loudly as your nails scratch uselessly at the bedsheets. “God, you’re so beautiful,” he groans, his head tipping back in ecstasy before his thrusts grow more erratic and finally come to a stop as he releases into the condom, ragged breaths leaving him.

Jaemin looks down at your figure, bare skin glistening with sweat, your hair all mussed up, and a fucked-out look on your face, and thinks to himself that this must be heaven on Earth, the male never having felt luckier than he does right now.

He pulls out of you carefully, quickly discarding the condom in the bedside trash can, and collapses beside you on the bed, a silence falling over you two as you catch your breath and get your bearings.

As you’re lying there, Ryujin’s and Yuna’s words from earlier come back to you, and a question begins to itch at your throat, begging to be asked. After moments of debating, you bite the bullet and ask.

“Hey, Jaemin?”

“Yeah?”

“How are you affording all these sessions? Aren’t you, like, a college student?” you ask curiously, and the silence that meets your question has you backtracking immediately. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked. It’s not my business—”

“I don’t mind answering,” Jaemin speaks up, and you turn your head to see that he’s already done the same, brown eyes studying your face. “I have money stashed away in my savings, pretty good credit, and my job doesn’t pay too badly.” he answers, and you nod slowly in understanding.

“I hope you’re not blowing your savings on me,” you chuckle, feeling a bit uncomfortable with the notion of him spending his savings on you.

“Don’t worry about me, angel,” he hums. “Besides,” he continues, nudging you gently with his elbow, “I think you’re worth more than every cent.”

Your face warms up at the compliment and you mumble a bashful thank you. “I just don’t want you to land yourself in hot water because of me.”

“Trust me, angel,” Jaemin assures you, “I’m doing perfectly fine.”

So, Jaemin may have lied a bit.

A lot, actually.

Since meeting you, he’s fully blown through his savings—all $5,000 of it—royally fucked up his credit by maxing out his credit cards, borrowed far too much money from his older brother, and has now resorted to…is this embezzlement? Can you even embezzle a mom-and-pop shop?

Jaemin has to admit that he feels a bit guilty, Mrs. Kim’s kind face flashing in his mind as he pockets several bills from the cash register.

But it’s you, with those eyes, and that smile, and that laugh, and it’s you, with that sweet voice and the way you say his name, and—

It’s you.

And Jaemin would do anything for you. Even if it means making some fiscally irresponsible choices and committing a few reprehensible actions, he thinks as he navigates your booking website expertly and schedules another meeting with you for tomorrow afternoon.

Maybe, Jaemin thinks, he’ll take you shopping. He saw you eying a pretty silver bracelet in the window of a jewelry shop when you were walking around together the other day. Maybe he’ll get it for you as a gift.

The first time was an accident. Or at least that’s what Jaemin’s going with.

When he left the hotel room he’d rented for you two, he didn’t expect to see you still in the lobby, the picture of perfection as you look down at your phone, tapping at the screen.

Jaemin conceals himself behind a passing bellhop and his cart when you lift your head up to look around, and it’s almost like a magnet pulls him after you when you exit the building. He makes sure to keep you at a distance, not wanting you to catch him watching you.

Jaemin watches as you walk down the street, slowly following after you. You’re so sweet, so innocent…so unaware.

Someone could just snatch you up and have you at their mercy in a second.

So he’s protecting you. Or, at least, that’s what he’s going with.

Jaemin “protects” you on your walk, not even sure where you’re headed, but when he watches you fish out a set of keys and enter an apartment building, his body lights up with a thrill.

You’re heading home.

Jaemin very tentatively follows you into the large building and practically collapses with relief when you go to the mailboxes and take your mail out. He doesn’t find a way to justify following you up to your apartment, so he just…waits until the doors close on the elevator and walks over to your mailbox, looking at the unit number.

“Found you,” He sighs dreamily. If he inhales deeply enough, he can still smell your light fragrance in the air.

Now, the first time was an accident. The second time was a coincidence.

The third, fourth, and fifth times were anything but.

Jaemin follows you home after every single meeting you two have, evading detection every time. He swears up and down he’s protecting you, making sure no harm befalls you as you travel back to your place.

Sometimes, however, he catches himself entangled in a dark fantasy consisting of you and him and the lovely element of surprise and he can’t help but think that maybe he’s exactly who you would need protection from.

But he’s different, Jaemin thinks. He cares about you. He adores you. He…he loves you.

Plus, you make it too easy, he thinks. Never straying from your usual route home, never sparing a glance over your shoulder; it’s almost like you know he’s watching. Like you know he’s following your every move.

It’s almost like…you want him to follow you. Want him to engage in a little game of cat-and-mouse as he follows you—his prey—back to your place of safety and lies in wait to pounce.

You’re playing with him, Jaemin thinks, because you must have feelings for him too. Hell, you might even love him back.

Jaemin makes up his mind the eighth time he follows you home; nothing is going to stop him from being with you.

“Huh.” You pause when you step out of the elevator, the doors quietly shutting behind you.

“What’s wrong?” Ryujin asks, attempting to follow your gaze. “Oh, you have a package!”

“I don’t remember ordering anything, though,” you mumble, heading down the hallway to your front door. You check the package and sure enough, your first name is written on the small box.

“Well, are you gonna take it?” Ryujin watches you turn the package around in your hand.

“I mean…yeah, I guess.” You agree slowly, unlocking your door and heading into your apartment, Ryujin following after you. You set your bag down and immediately turn your attention to the package in your hand. You carefully and gingerly open the brown paper wrapping to reveal a small white box. You take the top off, revealing its interior, and gasp.

“What is it?” Ryujin asks, by your side in a moment as she looks into the box. “Holy shit.”

“Right?”

“That bracelet is beautiful,” Ryujin stammers, “not to mention how expensive it looks.”

You carefully take the silver tennis bracelet out of the box’s protective foam and stare at it in wonder. “It looks so familiar.”

“Put it on!” Ryujin encourages you with a nudge, and you nod dumbly, letting her fasten it around your wrist. You stare down at it in bewilderment, still having a hard time processing. “It looks so pretty on you,” she compliments, and you nod distractedly. It looks so familiar around your wrist—almost like you’ve worn it before. Your mind flashes with a memory and you freeze, staring down at the bracelet with wide eyes.

“Oh, my God.” You remember where you’ve seen it.

“What’s wrong?” Ryujin presses, looking from the bracelet to you.

You drop the box and step back from it as if it might bite you.

“I saw this during one of my appointments with Jaemin. We went to a jewelry store.” you recall slowly, apprehension trickling down your spine like ice cold water.

“Oh, okay! Why are you so nervous—wait a minute.” Ryujin goes still, and you nod encouragingly, hoping she makes the same deduction you just have.

“Do you think Jaemin bought it for you?” she asks, and you nod again, raising your eyebrows for emphasis. “But how did he get it—to your—oh, what the fuck—”

“Yeah, what the fuck?” you exclaim, and Ryujin waves her hands around as she silently tries to make sense of everything. “Does he—does he fucking know where I live or something?”

“How would he know where you live?” Ryujin asks in disbelief.

“I don’t know, but it got here somehow!” you whisper-yell, and she nods, her gaze drifting from your panicked eyes to the floor.

“There’s a note,” she points out, and you follow her gaze to the small slip of paper sticking out from under the foam in the box. You stoop to pick it up and blink down at the note.

“It’s just a heart,” you mutter, and Ryujin purses her lips thoughtfully.

“Damn. Was kinda hoping it’d have some sort of identifying information,” she mumbles, and you sigh.

“Me too,” you grumble, your mood souring. “Maybe,” you say hesitantly, “I should stop seeing Jaemin so much.”

“That sounds like a good plan,” Ryujin agrees, “at least until you figure out what’s going on.”

You sigh in resignation. “Yeah. I hope this doesn’t end up blowing up in my face.”

Something is off.

Jaemin hasn’t seen you or spoken to you in eight consecutive days. When he looks at your booking website, your usual appointment slots are grayed out and unclickable. Every time he gets close to scheduling an appointment, it’s miraculously canceled and his money refunded, stating that there was a schedule conflict.

If that wasn’t enough, Jaemin has been attending your lives, and you haven’t given him any attention at all. He knows lives probably get overwhelming, especially when you have a large audience, but he doesn’t even get more than a thank you and a smile—a polite one, not the smile he’s come to adore—when he tips you.

He has no idea what’s going on, but his mind is reeling with possibilities, each more disastrous than the last.

You could be ignoring him. Avoiding him, possibly.

You could be scheduling with other people. Letting other clients touch what’s his.

Jaemin bristles with anger. The thought of another person’s hands on you, their name leaving your lips in a moan of pleasure, your beautiful smile directed at someone that’s not him drives him into a fit of rage.

Thoughts and images of you with another person flash in his mind, tormenting him, and he clutches his head, pressing his fingers into his skin as hard as possible to offset the emotional pain he’s feeling with a more manageable physical pain.

You can’t be with anyone else. Jaemin loves you. He fucking loves you. He would do anything for you; he’s landed himself in financial hot water tipping you and booking appointments with you, he’s completely fucked academically from skipping classes and not turning in assignments in his attempt to spend as much time with you as possible, and this is how you treat him? Do you even care about him?

Jaemin cannot fucking breathe. He places a panicked hand over his heaving chest and struggles to regulate his inhales and exhales as he tries to calm himself down. His chest feels tight, constricted as he pants and he can feel his racing heartbeat pounding in his ears as his world caves in around him.

No, Jaemin thinks, that’s not possible. You wouldn’t do that to him. Not with what you two have together.

Maybe it’s just a simple misunderstanding. Maybe you’re taking a break from in-person sessions for a bit.

Repeating the words in his head like a mantra, Jaemin can finally breathe again.

He misses you, though. Thankfully you’re going live tonight, and he can see you that way.

Sure enough, you go live at midnight like clockwork, a vision in a pretty pale blue dress, and Jaemin feels his heart swelling at the sight of you. A glance at your wrists has his heart about to burst with joy; you’re wearing the bracelet he bought you.

“Hi, everybody,” you greet sweetly, waving at the camera. “How is everyone feeling tonight?”

Responses start coming in the chat and Jaemin just sits back, waiting for a lull so he can send his message and not have it swept up in the flurry of rapidly incoming messages and ultimately ignored.

As he expected, the replies taper off in a moment, and he sends his message.

NaJaem13: lonely. bored.

He watches your eyes scan the replies as you respond to individual users, his heart rate picking up in excitement when you read the response right above his.

“Sorry to hear you’re bored, NaJaem13,” you hum softly, and hearing your voice say his name—well, part of it—and watching your lips shape the syllables has his heart soaring. “Hopefully I can change that!”

He tips you 100 tokens, and the smile on your lips as you thank him is more than worth it.

NiceGuy19: r u seeing anyone? boyfriend, girlfriend, etc

You read the question out hesitantly, and Jaemin’s chest swells with pride as he’s confident you’ll allude to what you two have going on—

“No, NiceGuy19, I am very much single.” You smile, the expression not quite reaching your eyes, and Jaemin freezes.

You’re single? What the fuck?

Loverboy01: haha so i have a chance

You let out a small laugh at the comment as you read it aloud before giving a small nod. “You do,” you agree.

Jaemin’s eye twitches. Maybe you’re keeping what you two have private…out of respect for the relationship. There’s only one problem with that.

Jaemin doesn’t want you to keep it private. As a matter of fact, Jaemin’s not so sure he wants to share you with anyone anymore.

His fingers trace along the trackpad, a few clicks, and he’s booking you for a private show. There’s a moment in which nothing happens, Jaemin waiting with bated breath for you to accept.

Your eyes drift away from the camera, looking distracted for a split second, and Jaemin smiles.

You saw his request.

You clear your throat and click something before fixing your hair slightly and continuing to read comments. A window pops up on Jaemin’s screen and he reads it eagerly.

PL4YG1RL is not available for a private show at this time.

Jaemin’s smile drops.

You saw his request…and declined it. There goes that tightening in his chest, that feeling of his throat closing up, and he can’t contain his frustration.

He has to talk to you; he has to see you in person and get an explanation for all of this. He’ll wait until your live is over, then he’ll go see you and figure out what’s going on because, honestly, Jaemin feels like his heart’s about to split into two.

You’re startled awake by three insistent knocks on your front door, not expecting any visitors at this hour.

What even is “this hour,” anyway? What time is it?

You look over at your clock on your dresser and your eyes widen at the displayed time of 4:17 that blinks back at you.

Who the hell could be knocking on the door at this hour?

You get out of bed, donning the robe on the back of your bedroom door and wrapping the fabric around your body, and make your way to your front door as three more knocks sound out.

You peek through the peephole and your blood runs cold at the sight of Jaemin standing there, an unmistakable frown on his face.

You open the door and stare at him in disbelief, saying nothing. His eyes widen when he sees you and he sighs in relief, a smile beginning to curl his lips.

“You answered,” he exhales.

“Jaemin?” You ask carefully, and his smile slowly drops in favor of a distressed expression as he starts to speak.

“I saw your live tonight and—”

“Jaemin?”

“You said you weren’t seeing anyone—”

“Jaemin.”

“You’ve been avoiding me too, I know you saw my private show request—”

You just blink at him, in disbelief.

“What about all the time we’ve spent together?” He looks like he wants to say more, but holds his tongue at the last moment. Looking into his eyes chills you to your core; past the hurt swimming in his dark irises, there’s something desperate and unnerving about his gaze. You don’t miss the way his eyes rove over your figure with an unmistakable hunger, his gaze no longer exciting you like it did before. Now, you feel vulnerable, wanting to shift your weight to your other foot but not wanting to show your discomfort.

“Are you done now?” You ask slowly.

He nods.

“Jaemin,” you say, making sure to keep your voice level, “how do you know where I live?”

He balks at your question, only worsening your nerves as you swallow what feels like a thick lump in your throat.

“What about us?” he croaks out, and you can’t hide your incredulity quickly enough.

“Jaemin,” you sigh, “there isn’t anything going on between us.” Jaemin flinches like you’ve slapped him, eyes wide and wounded. “I do this for a living.”

“What about that time I asked if I could see you again and you said that it was ‘up to me,’ with that teasing little smile?” he presses, and you pinch the bridge of your nose, breathing deeply.

“I meant that literally.” you explain, in awe at how far away from reality his mind has carried him. “If you wanted to see me again, you would have to book me.”

“But—I—I love you,” he confesses, stepping closer to you. He doesn’t miss the way you step back slightly, shrinking further into the safety of your apartment.

“Jaemin, I’m so sorry, but…” you say sincerely, feeling bad for him despite your apprehension about the whole situation. “I don’t feel that way about you.”

The way his face crumples into devastation has you wincing internally, your sympathetic nature pushing forward as you struggle with whether or not to comfort him. He hangs his head for a second and you look away to give him some privacy.

You remember, taking in his broad frame and how it practically fills up your doorway, that he never did mention how he found out where you live, and you slowly tense up again, also recalling how he’d blatantly dodged the question.

Just as fear trickles down your spine as you realize Jaemin knows far more about you than you’re comfortable with, he sucks in a ragged breath and jolts you out of your thoughts. You look back at his face and he slowly lifts his head, revealing an expression so deeply hollow that you wish you’d never looked in the first place, let alone answered the door.

You’re regretting every interaction you’ve had with Jaemin, frankly, because clearly he’s gotten the wrong idea, and now this emotionless, dead-eyed man in your doorway is honestly scaring the fuck out of you.

He sniffs once and when he speaks, his voice is every bit as flat and hollow as his face, completely impassive. “So you don’t feel anything towards me.”

You hesitate, nibbling your bottom lip nervously as you try to smooth the situation over. He raises an eyebrow expectantly, and you can feel your heartbeat pick up in pace as he stares you down with growing impatience.

“No,” you finally eke out, and he sighs, anger briefly flashing on his face before the hollow look returns, only to be replaced with a dazzling smile that doesn’t reach your eyes as he nods in understanding. “I’m sorry.”

He holds a hand up to silence you, nodding in understanding. “It’s alright.”

“Are…we done here?” You ask tentatively, not trusting your voice to conceal the tremble past a whisper.

“Yeah.” He smiles, waving you off dismissively. “Have a good night.”

“You too.” You wave cautiously, and he starts walking away from your apartment. You watch as he calls the elevator and gets in, waiting for the doors to slide shut before you practically collapse in relief, quickly closing your front door, locking both locks, and leaning against the door as you try to control your racing heart.

You’ve never seen Jaemin’s smile so void of any sincerity—it looked more like he was baring his teeth at you than actually smiling. Reality sets in, crushing your shoulders as you come to terms with two unnerving truths.

The first truth being that Jaemin knows where you live.

The second being that you didn’t tell him.

You’re heading out to the grocery store from Ryujin’s apartment, having decided to stay with her for a while until you feel safe returning home to your place.

Looking into your purse for your shopping list, you hear footsteps behind you, your senses lighting up in panic, and you whip your head around to look behind you only to see a woman and her child walking past you. She shoots you a friendly smile, and you return it, relief coursing through you.

“You’re being paranoid,” you mumble to yourself, grabbing the shopping list and looking it over briefly. As you walk to the store, you can’t help but notice the sense of danger your body’s picking up on.

Something feels off, and you don’t know what it is.

Now jumpy with nerves, you pick up your pace, glancing over your shoulder periodically as you practically speed walk to the store.

The first glance, you see nothing but the road behind you.

A car pulls up behind you and you whirl around, but the car pulls up to the curb and parks. A breath of relief escapes you, and you keep walking.

The third glance behind you rewards you with nothing, and at this point you’re pretty sure you’re jumpy for no reason, half-chuckling to yourself.

Almost out of habit now, you look over your shoulder for a fourth time, still finding no one, and you turn forward only to collide with someone’s chest, apologies immediately spilling out from your lips.

“So sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going,” you stammer as you steady yourself, and the chuckle you hear makes you freeze, your heart gripped with terror.

You know that chuckle.

You look up in a panic, a loud gasp escaping you at the sight of Jaemin’s wide smile. He doesn’t stand still for long, swiftly moving behind you and clamping a rag over your mouth and nose as you wriggle in panic, letting out muffled shrieks and screams.

Your mind races—how could he get away with this in the middle of the day? Where is everyone?—and whatever’s on the rag fills your lungs with every panicked inhale you suck in.

Hold your breath. Fight back.

You reach to claw at Jaemin’s arms, but his jacket sleeves block your every move. As he holds the rag to your face, he works to lock your arms behind your back, his actions hindered by your defensive attacks as you reach behind you, praying your nails can make contact with his face, neck, something—

One of your blind swipes collides with the side of his face, a low grunt leaving him, and you move to hit him again, this time aiming with your nails—

You can’t hold your breath any longer, adrenaline coursing through you and making your breathing pick up.

The rag is soaking wet, the smell of the liquid slightly sweet as it drips down your neck and onto your shirt. Jaemin dodges your attacks directed at his face and manages to catch one of your wrists, aided by the rag over your mouth which makes every one of your limbs feel like it’s filled with wet sand.

Your free hand drops uselessly to your side, and Jaemin grabs it, a faint sound of metal clinking before cool metal rings—handcuffs?—close around your wrists.

The fabric of the rag is coarse against your face, and it’s one of the last things you can focus on as you feel your composure slipping away, your muscles going slack, eyes drooping shut—

“You should be more careful,” Jaemin murmurs, starting to drag your limp body with him. As your mind finally slips away, your body losing its fight, the last thing you hear is a chuckle from Jaemin, the sound far more sinister than earlier, and his final words.

“You could get hurt.”

When you open your eyes, you see a white ceiling.

A look to the left of you, and you see a window, moonlight painting the floor in streaks.

To your right, you see a mahogany dresser, a matching nightstand, and a door, cracked open to reveal an en suite bathroom.

Your mind is swimming as you try to piece together everything going on—you were walking to the store—you ran into someone—Jaemin, you ran into Jaemin. You remember something cold, wet, and sweet on your face—and then, nothing.

Your arms and shoulders ache, and you wiggle your fingers experimentally, numb digits digging into your lower back—are those handcuffs?

Panic sets in as you realize that you’ve been abducted—in the middle of the day, no less—and you have no idea what’s going on.

What does Jaemin want with you?

Where are you? What time is it?

Has Ryujin noticed that you’re gone? Is she looking for you, perhaps?

Hell, can she even find you?

How the hell are you going to get out of—

“You’re awake,” Jaemin’s voice from out of nowhere makes you yelp, your eyes darting around to find him until you look straight ahead to see him standing in the doorway.

“You fought back more than I expected,” he hums thoughtfully, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him.

“Yeah, people don’t tend to like being chloroformed and dragged away.” You can’t help but be bitter and, really, who could blame you?

“You made it difficult,” he defends himself, frowning. You stare at him incredulously, saying nothing. “Hiding at your friend’s house—do you know how confused I was when you weren’t coming into or out of your building?”

“You waited outside of my building? How did you find out where I live?”

“I may have followed you home a couple of times,” he admits sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“You—a couple of times—oh, my God. Did you send this bracelet?” you splutter, shaking your wrist holding the piece of jewelry.

“I did,” he announces proudly. “And you’re wearing it; it looks so beautiful on you.”

“Jaemin,” you say slowly, “what was the purpose of kidnapping me? What do you want?”

Jaemin frowns. “I just want us to be together.”

“Jaemin, how many times do I have to tell you that all of our interactions were because of my job?” you complain, yanking uselessly at the handcuffs binding your wrists. “I’m sorry, but I don’t feel the same way.”

“You will.” His reply is simple but unnerving in its simplicity. He leans over you and unlocks the handcuffs restraining you, smiling when you tentatively rub your wrists. “Better?”

“W-Why did you do that?” you ask, half-hoping he’s had a moment of guilty conscience, but his response chills you to the bone.

“I want you to struggle.”

The worst part is how bright his eyes are when he says it. He’s eyeing you like you’re the eighth wonder of the world, his gaze dropping to scan your body for an uncomfortably long moment, before he looks back up at you, his gaze now hungry and desiring.

“Jaemin—Jaemin, please, you don’t have to—” You stammer, scooting back against the headboard as he moves closer to you with his head cocked curiously.

“I know, angel,” he replies, leaning closer with a widening grin when you have nowhere to go. He wraps his fingers around your ankle and yanks you—hard—so you’re pulled closer to him. “I want to.”

“Jaemin—” Your voice cracks as tears sting your eyes. “I don’t want—”

“You will,” he shushes you, having the audacity to sound comforting. “It’s gonna feel so good,” he purrs, unbuttoning your jeans and pulling the zipper down. He peels your jeans down and off your legs painstakingly slowly, the sound of the garment hitting the floor making you flinch. “So jumpy,” he snickers, and you have half a mind to send your knee crashing into his jaw.

You refrain because, ultimately, it won’t do anything besides make him angry. Even if you managed to run away, you have no idea where you are and he’d probably catch you before you had a chance to get your bearings.

“Screw you,” you spit out instead, and Jaemin wiggles his eyebrows with a suggestive grin.

“You will.” He stares you down with darkened eyes, evoking a shudder from deep within your body. The corners of his lips quirk upwards in a smug grin, and he slides his hands up your bare legs, slowly parting your thighs with ease even though you fight to keep them closed. “Let’s play a game,” Jaemin hums excitedly. “We’re going to play together for a bit and then we’re going to take these,” he muses, snapping the band of your underwear against your skin and relishing the way you jolt, “off. If your body likes what I’m doing to it, we’re going to keep playing.”

“Oh, God,” you whimper, closing your eyes tightly. Jaemin’s hand cups your chin hard and he shakes your head from side to side roughly, forcing you to look at him with an affronted glare.

“Look at me.” Jaemin demands, his eyes hard as he arches a brow in warning. You balk under his stern gaze. “Don’t look away from me. Understand?”

You nod tentatively. Jaemin smiles, the disapproval from earlier gone without a trace.

“That’s my good girl,” he praises you warmly, and your stomach curls in disgust.

He’s sick. He’s lost his fucking mind.

You watch Jaemin cautiously as he moves to sit beside you on the bed, propping his back up against the headboard. He pulls you until you’re straddling his lap, your face burning with shame as you struggle to keep your eyes on him like he ordered.

His hands glide and down up your sides and he squeezes your hips with a low groan, guiding your movements so you’re rocking back and forth on his lap, your clit occasionally rubbing against his clothed erection through the thin fabric of your underwear and the thicker fabric of his sweats.

“Doesn’t that feel good, baby?” Jaemin coos sweetly against your lips, pushing forward to kiss you. It takes everything in you not to bite his lip or his tongue when he pushes it into your mouth. “Kiss me like you mean it.” His voice is still light, but the warning in his tone is evident, and you whimper in defeat when he swirls his tongue around yours, pulling it back only to suck on your tongue.

He’s drawing all your attention to your mouth and your core as he stimulates both, leaving you so disoriented that you don’t even notice one hand sneaking up your shirt until his cold fingers graze your stomach, making you jolt away from his touch.

“So cute,” he mumbles fondly into the kiss, and you could almost swear you feel bile rising in your throat.

You’re not sure if you’re angrier with him or with yourself as your body reacts to the sensations of Jaemin kissing down to your neck and sucking at the sensitive skin there. It’s hardly your fault, you think—Jaemin’s advantage is that he already knows how to please you, and you’re defenseless against his touch.

His hand under your shirt slips to your back and unclasps your bra, returning to the front and worming its way under the lacy fabric to pinch your nipple, tweaking it between his fingers. You jerk away from him, and his free hand clutches the back of your neck, his iron-clad grip pinning you in place. He pulls back from your neck to shoot you a warning glare that chills your blood before slowly returning his lips to your skin, sucking and licking as he traces circles around your stiffening peak.

His lips trail kisses, hot and wet, down your neck to your collarbones and both hands tug your shirt over your head, discarding it to the side and returning to your body to cup your breasts. You flinch at his touch, Jaemin chuckling with sadistic amusement before groping your breasts freely, tugging and squeezing your nipples until you let out defeated moans of pleasure.

His lips kiss lower and lower still until he’s leaning you back so he can angle himself forward to envelop your nipple in his mouth. The sucking sensation is regrettably arousing and it takes all of your focus and willpower not to make any noises. Your hands push at his toned chest, firm muscles unyielding under your touch, and Jaemin just laughs, the vibrations sending another pang of pleasure down between your legs.

Your pushing grows more and more determined until you actually manage to push hard enough to detach his mouth from your chest. Jaemin, it seems, grows tired of your retaliation and forces your hands behind you, gripping your wrists in one large hand and pushing them into the small of your back so you’re forced into a deeper arch. He nuzzles in the space between your breasts and leaves sloppy kisses along the skin there before moving to swirl his tongue around your nipple, flicking it with the tip and grinning when you inhale abruptly, your breath hitching when he nips at the bud with his teeth.

He alternates between your breasts, kissing, sucking, and licking to his heart’s content as you whimper in protest, incapable of wriggling away from his mouth.

After a moment of Jaemin’s relentless mouth on your nipples, he looks up at you, releasing your nipple with a wet pop, and reconnects your lips, squeezing your wrists together hard when you refuse to part your lips for his tongue.

He smacks your ass once, the flesh stinging from the impact, and you yelp in pain, Jaemin’s tongue slipping into your unprotected mouth and playing with yours languidly, leisurely, like he has all the time in the world.

“You know,” he mumbles, still kissing you, “what I want?” When you don’t answer, he sighs, almost in disappointment, and smacks your ass again, ignoring your pained cry. “Answer me.”

“What,” you mutter bitterly through gritted teeth, “do you want, Jaemin?”

“I want…to feel you ride my lap,” he answers with a wicked grin, and you groan in complaint as he grabs at your hip with his free hand and guides you into a repetitive rocking motion against his clothed cock, which you can feel hardening with every drag of your hips.

His lips attach themselves to your neck, his hand leaving your hip and massaging your breasts, flicking at your nipples lightly. Your movements halt almost instantly, and he raises an eyebrow up at you expectantly, looking pointedly at where your bodies meet.

When you stubbornly refuse to move, his gaze hardens and he grips your jaw, squeezing hard enough to evoke a whimper from you.

“Keep. Moving.”

You two stare each other down for a moment and Jaemin raises both eyebrows as if to say, “is that so?” You falter at the thought of whatever punishment he has in mind and slowly resume your grinding motions, averting your gaze. It feels like your soul withers when you hear his satisfied hum and his lips return to your skin, kissing and sucking at where your neck and shoulder meet.

His head lolls back for a moment, eyes shutting as he lets out a low groan of bliss, and your movements start to slow again as you feel the insuppressible tugging sensation of pleasure in the pit of your belly.

He opens his eyes to stare at you through a heavy-lidded gaze, silently ordering you to keep moving, and you start to panic, knowing all too well that when he goes to check if you’re wet, he’s going to see that you irrefutably are.

“Jaemin, can we please stop—”

“No.”

“But—but I’m gonna c—”

“Of course you are.” Jaemin speaks to you slowly, as if you’re stupid. “What do you think the point of this was?”

Your heart falls at your realization that he probably intended to make you climax this whole time, rigging the “game” he’d set up. You can’t help but feel stupid for not knowing that this was his plan the whole time; he kidnapped you and you really expected him to keep his word?

His lips drag you out of your spiral of hopelessness when they drag against the spot just behind your ear, and you keen desperately, wishing for anything at all to save you from this.

Of course, no such miracle comes, and your body curls in on itself as you climax, your hips bucking against his lap. You bite your lip so hard to keep from moaning that you’re surprised you don’t bleed, but Jaemin’s gleefully satisfied expression is every bit as disappointing as any noise you could have made.

He waits until your body has calmed down from your climax, watching with fascination as you both succumb to the pleasure and try with all your might to ignore it, to speak.

“You know, I think we’ve been playing for long enough,” Jaemin hums, snaking a hand between your bodies and inching it painfully slowly down your stomach.

He’s prolonging the inevitable just to torture you, and you sigh in resignation, the sound catching in your throat as you hold back defeated tears.

After what feels like ages, his hand finally reaches its destination, long fingers stroking over the damp spot of your underwear as he gasps ostentatiously. “What’s this?” His eyes flicker between his hand between your legs and your face with a devilish grin, and you let out a broken whimper.

“Nothing,” you lie, and he raises an eyebrow skeptically.

“Oh, yeah?” He slips his fingers into your underwear and you reluctantly hiss at the sensation, angling your hips away from him. “Doesn’t feel like nothing,” he teases, grinning as he strokes along your slick folds.

You move to argue, but he presses his lips to yours, his tongue snaking its way into your mouth even as you whine in protest. Jaemin grins against your lips as he withdraws his fingers from your underwear and displays them to you proudly, the digits glistening with your arousal.

“Looks like we get to keep playing, angel,” he murmurs, and your heart falls. “C’mere,” he urges you, dragging your reluctant body off his lap and lying you down on the bed on your back.

“Jaemin, please? Please don’t—oh, God—” you stammer as he parts your legs, reflexively clamping them shut again, and Jaemin raises an eyebrow in warning.

“Are you sure you want to do that?” His voice is low and threatening, and a chill runs down your spine as his grip on your knee tightens noticeably and his eyes lose the playful glint. When you relax your muscles, Jaemin smiles brightly and spreads your legs apart. “Good girl. Now relax,” he purrs, running his hands up your inner thighs and chuckling at the tremor of revulsion that travels through your body, “Nana just wants a taste.”

He pulls your underwear down and off your legs painfully slowly, as if he’s rubbing the moment in your face, and you can’t help but let out a choked sob of defeat, wanting so badly to look away but fearing his reaction if you do.

“Sound so pretty when you cry,” Jaemin coos, spreading your legs wider once the thin garment covering your core is tossed carelessly onto the floor. He tucks himself between your legs, and you inch away from him as subtly as possible, crying out when he wraps one muscular arm over your hips and yanks you towards his mouth with ease. “Don’t run from me.”

You’ve been holding back tears for so long, not wanting to give him the satisfaction, but when he leans down and his tongue makes contact with your core, the dam breaks—tears, hot and fat and wet, trail down your cheeks, and you can’t help but sniffle pathetically.

“That’s it, just let it happen, angel,” Jaemin hums, licking up your folds, his tongue collecting your arousal, and he looks you directly in the eyes when his lips wrap around your clit, sucking the sensitive bud and flicking it back and forth with the tip of his tongue. “Taste so fucking good…and it’s all for me.”

His tongue flicks and swirls around your clit languidly and your core drips arousal as he teases his fingers at your entrance, pushing two in slowly to the first knuckle, and you cover your face in an attempt to muffle the reluctant moan of pleasure that slips out from his attentive actions.

“Come on, Playgirl,” Jaemin taunts, “I wanna hear you moan like you did all those other times we’ve been together.” He pushes his fingers into you and you gasp, one hand leaving your face to clutch at the bedsheets, and you shake your head vigorously.

“Jaemin, that was my job,” you desperately explain, but your futile attempt to save yourself falls on unsympathetic ears, and he looks up from between your legs, his lips glistening with a mix of his saliva and your wetness.

“Well, now your job is to convince me to let you live.” He raises both eyebrows as he regards you, but an ice cold panic takes over your whole body at his words.

Would he seriously try to kill you?

You don’t even notice how your breathing has picked up until your chest is heaving with panic and Jaemin reaches up, pressing between your breasts to flatten you to the bed.

“Relax,” he sighs, “I won’t hurt you if you’re good for me.” He watches you intently as resignation settles in your chest, cold and heavy, before pressing a kiss to your inner thigh. “Good girl,” he praises. He returns his attention to your core, curling his fingers inside of you and pumping them in and out of you as he wraps his lips around your clit and hums contently, sending vibrations through the sensitive bud and making your back arch.

A moan forces its way out of your lips, your face burning with shame as you feel your body succumbing to the pleasure.

“It feels good, yeah?” Jaemin asks, continuing when you don’t respond, “I know it feels good,” he coos teasingly, “because your pussy keeps clenching around my fingers.”

You refrain from swearing at him, instead shuddering with unwanted pleasure when he angles his fingers just right and his fingertips press into your g-spot, and Jaemin’s eyes light up with glee.

“Gotcha,” he mumbles, a triumphant grin on his face as he thrusts his fingers into you, repeatedly stimulating your most sensitive spot along your inner walls, and moans spill from your lips uncontrollably, the pleasure too much to bear.

“You’re gonna cum, aren’t you, angel?” Jaemin asks with a smug grin, and you shake your head vigorously even as your eyes roll back into your head and your back arches off of the bed with another skillful thrust of his fingers. “Yes, you are,” he says, ignoring your denial and reattaching his mouth to your core, rapidly flicking your clit with his tongue.

To your dismay, you are about to cum, your impending orgasm building up in your stomach even as you desperately try to will it away. Broken pants escape you as the pleasure grows, and when you finally climax, you whimper loudly, your eyes shutting tightly as fat tears force their way out and down your temples to melt into the pillow under your head.

“That’s a good girl.” Jaemin presses wet kisses to the insides of your thighs, his lips traveling higher up your body until they’re pressing against yours forcefully, the taste of your arousal on his tongue as it slips between your lips. His kiss is all-consuming, Jaemin emitting grunts and pants of desire while his hand reaches between you two. After a moment passes of his hand not touching you, you move to break the kiss in confusion, only to feel the head of his cock rubbing up and down your folds, collecting your arousal.

“Jaemin—no—fuck, Jaemin, please—” you plead, putting all your strength into pushing him away from you. His eyes light up with excitement at the new challenge you’ve presented and he swats your hands away with ease as you push and shove at his chest, a growing smile on his face as you push yourself out from under him, scooting up towards the headboard.

“That’s it, angel,” he coaxes you, nodding encouragingly as you push his shoulders to get him away from you. “Push a little harder, yeah, just like that.” He’s coaching you through fighting him off, you realize, and what little hope you may have had all but drains from you as you let out a choked sob and close your legs as tightly as you can.

“Jaemin, at least put a condom on—” you manage to get out through panicked breaths, and he cocks his head to the side in confusion.

“Why would I do that?” Jaemin snickers, placing one hand on your leg and forcing his hand between your knees, yanking your legs apart with a grunt and shoving himself between your thighs once more. “I want us to feel every inch of each other, angel.”

Before you can protest again, he tucks your knees to your chest, draping your legs over his shoulders, and drags you back down to him. He pins your arms above your head and coos down at you in mock sympathy as he pushes into you slowly.

“Oh, my God,” you gasp, your body trembling under the weight of your yet-to-be-shed tears. Jaemin bottoms out inside of you with a low, content moan and turns his head to kiss your calf before leaning down to bring his lips to your ear.

“Love filling you up with my cock,” he purrs in your ear and you can only hiccup from the force of trying not to cry. “Does that feel good, hm? Having me fill your tight little pussy up?” When you shake your head vigorously, Jaemin tuts disapprovingly. “Lying isn’t going to help you.”

The worst part of it all, you think, is that it does feel good. He’s been with you enough at this point to know exactly what you like as he pulls out and thrusts back into you, slowly, making sure you feel every single inch and ridge of his length.

He fucks into you slowly but with powerful snaps of his hips, moans falling from your lips whether you like it or not, and he presses your legs against your chest even harder, uncaring about the ache it sends shooting up your legs.

You can’t even dwell on the discomfort because he keeps driving his hips into yours, fucking you into a stupor that you couldn’t snap out of if you tried.

“I know you love when I fuck you,” he coos, and when you cry out in protest, he just laughs. “Your body won’t lie to me.” He pouts. “I can feel you clenching around me and you’re so fucking wet, I could almost slip out. I bet you’re about to cum already, aren’t you?”

He’s right, unfortunately, and you can only nod and whimper, not sure if you’re asking him to release you or let you finish.

He reaches between you two and massages your clit in quick circles, eyes flashing with triumph when your back arches and you climax with a breathless whine and repeated moans of “No, no, no.”

“Gonna cum, angel,” he pants, his brow furrowing as he speeds up his thrusts. “Gonna fill you up with my cum,” he grunts, and your eyes widen as the fight returns to your system. You writhe under him in an attempt to free yourself, but Jaemin just laughs uncaringly and sits up slightly to grip your squirming hips and push you further into the mattress.

He’s stronger than you could ever manage to overcome, and his actions render you immobile, your legs still flailing under him as your hands push at his chest.

“Jaemin, don’t cum inside of me,” you plead, bucking your hips uselessly, but he just moans, fucking into you harder.

“Gonna make you mine,” he purrs, his grip on your hips tightening uncomfortably as he ignores your every protest. “All fucking mine.” His thrusts become slower and almost impossibly deeper before he bottoms out in you with a low groan and releases into you, a pleased shudder leaving him as his length throbs within your walls.

All you can do is cry bitterly at how betrayed you feel by your body and how shame burns in you like an inferno, and you cover your face with your hands in resignation, not moving them even when Jaemin attempts to pull them away.

He sucks his teeth in annoyance and his grip tightens around your wrists as he wrenches your hands from over your face, his lips on yours immediately as he tastes the salt of your tears, a delighted hum rumbling in his throat.

“You’re all mine now, angel,” he breathes into the kiss. “No one’s ever going to separate us.”

“I want to go home,” you whimper, and he shushes you with the demeanor of a comforting lover, despite the truth being far from the situation.

“You are home,” Jaemin coos.

Being abducted is, as you probably could have guessed, a nightmare.

Jaemin has the audacity to be sweet and kind to you by talking to you sweetly, serving you (admittedly) good food, and telling you sweet nothings everyday—while he has you handcuffed to the bed. He lets you wear his clothes, although you suspect that’s more for him than it is for you. Sometimes, if he’s feeling generous, he’ll attach one of your handcuffs to a chain so you can roam the room as freely as one can in an eight foot radius.

He hasn’t touched you since the day he abducted you; he says he’ll wait for you to get adjusted this time. He also leaves you alone a startling amount, but you figure that would track for a normal college student; however, nothing about this is normal, so there’s that.

Your chance comes when he leaves you to go to work one day—you think it’s Tuesday, but the days are honestly starting to blur together so you’re not sure—and leaves a drawer open in the nightstand in his haste to get there on time.

Your cursory peek into it reveals a few unimportant items but one stands out to you.

A paperclip.

You don’t know very much about lock picking apart from reading one WikiHow link on it a while ago, and there isn’t a lot of room for trial and error, so you really only have one good shot at it.

Today Jaemin felt kind enough to use the chain as opposed to handcuffing you to the bedpost, and you thank the universe that you have just enough room to reach the drawer, jostling its contents so the paperclip can slide closer to you.

“Come on, come on, come on,” you mutter anxiously.

The paperclip slides towards your hand and you snatch it immediately, sitting up and bending it into the shape you vaguely remember seeing in the WikiHow article. Unfortunately, your mind blanks after that one step, so you just feed the end of the makeshift lock picker into the keyhole for the handcuffs, carefully twisting it this way and that.

It takes a grueling amount of time in which you fear the paperclip might break, but the small metal utensil thankfully stays intact the whole time, and you could cry with relief when there’s a click and the pressure on your wrist loosens considerably.

“Oh, my God,” you half-gasp, half-laugh. You spring to your feet, wobbling slightly as you get acclimated to standing up and moving again. You don’t have much time, you’re sure, so you sneak out of the door and steal down the hallway and stairs, rushing out of the front door and not caring to lock it behind you.

You’re not wearing shoes, clad only in socks, and the concrete of the pavement feels cold and rough under your feet, making it harder to run away as you would have preferred.

You’re walking down the street, praying to see a landmark that helps you get your bearings, when you hear the blip of a police car.

You’re saved.

You’re running before you even realize it, the impact of your poorly covered soles on the concrete sending sparks of pain up your legs, waving your arms wildly at the car as it approaches, and it slows to a stop, a relieved sob escaping you as you run up to the cop’s window.

“Officer, please help me—I’ve been kidnapped—I don’t know where I am—I don’t know where to go—” you stammer breathlessly, and the officer raises a hand to silence you, looking at you with curious eyes.

“You’ve been kidnapped?” he murmurs, brows knitting together in a confused sort of surprise.

You nod vigorously. “His name is Jaemin,” you explain in a rush of words, “Na Jaemin.”

“Okay, let’s head to the precinct and I can get your report there,” the officer explains. He’s got a very handsome face, you can’t help but think. He smiles for the first time, and you feel at ease instantly, his smile kind and warm with two dimples to go with it.

“Okay,” you agree immediately.

“You have to ride in the back of the cop car,” he explains, stepping out of the vehicle and opening the back door for you. He’s fairly tall, and his badge glints in the sunlight, making it hard for you to read his name. “It’s policy.”

You nod in understanding and get into the backseat, strapping yourself in and scanning the car curiously. There’s a clear divider between the front and backseat and you watch the cop’s side profile as he starts the car and drives off.

You’ve been riding for a while before you realize.

“Um, officer?”

“Mm?”

“Is this the way to the precinct?” you ask carefully, studying the side of his face for any sign of a tell.

“We’re going exactly where you need to go,” he answers, and you can’t help but notice with an unsettling jolt that he didn’t answer your question. As he speaks, he passes a house you definitely remember passing when you escaped, and all the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

You think frantically about what could be going on, and it hits you all at once.

Jaemin mentioned having a brother. Who’s a cop. You found this officer in the area of Jaemin’s place.

“Officer, I don’t think I ever got your name.”

He doesn’t answer, only heightening your suspicions. The coincidences are too much to let slide, so you quietly reach for the door handle when he pulls up to a red light. There’s a muted click as the door handle fails to open the door, and the officer speaks.

“You can’t open the back doors from the inside.”

Which, yeah, makes sense, but the way he sounds when he says it takes you by surprise. He sounds smug almost, almost teasing.

You sit back quietly, your voice dejected when you speak next.

“We’re not going to the precinct, are we?”

“I think you know the answer to that,” he replies easily, and you rest your cheek against the cold window in defeat, trying as hard as you can not to cry; you don’t want to give him the satisfaction.

When the car finally rolls to a stop, you look out the window in resignation, your gaze dull and broken when you lock eyes with Jaemin, who’s standing on the sidewalk in front of his house.

“You should lock this one up more carefully next time,” the officer scolds Jaemin lightly, and Jaemin nods with a smile at him before looking at you with a hurt frown.

“I was being so nice to you,” he complains, and you scoff under your breath, sliding your gaze away from him. He opens your door and, when you don’t move, sighs before he reaches in to unstrap your seatbelt and pull you out of the car. “Oh, by the way, this is my brother Jaehyun.”

“Nice to meet you,” Jaehyun replies dryly, raising his eyebrow at you.

You don’t reply.

“Same mother, different fathers,” Jaemin goes on to explain. “Hence the different last names.”

“Jaemin, I really don’t care,” you say honestly, and he frowns at you.

“Don’t hurt my feelings.” He wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you in closer to him, kissing the top of your head. “Thanks, Jaehyun. See you!”

Jaehyun raises two fingers to his forehead in a mock salute before he’s driving off.

“I think I’m going to have to revoke your roaming privileges.” Jaemin hums with an air of disappointment as he leads you back into the house.

You wish you could revoke his life at this point.

It’s another day being held in Jaemin’s room and you’re lazily watching the television that Jaemin put on for you before going to work, eyes practically glazing over with boredom before you change the channel. It’s harder to reach the remote with your hands zip tied in front of you, but you manage to make it work.

You flip through channels absentmindedly, but stop immediately once you hear your name coming from the screen.

You flip back a couple of channels until you land on the local news, which is in the process of going through your Missing Person report.

“Holy shit,” you say breathlessly, watching as they display a picture of you on screen. “They’re looking for me.”

Your best friends Ryujin and Yuna come on screen next, Yuna in tears and Ryujin looking pissed as she talks to the newscaster.

“She doesn’t just up and disappear, something happened to her, I know it.” Ryujin says vehemently. She looks directly into the camera and you feel goosebumps raise on your body at how determined she looks. “We’re going to find you. Don’t worry.”

“I love them,” you mumble sadly before sitting up slightly. Knowing that someone is looking for you fills you with hope and a resolve you didn’t have before.

You’re getting out of here.

You stare down at the zip tie around your wrists and think about how to get out. You bring it to your mouth and start to nibble at the thick plastic, praying this works. Your jaw aches as you work away at the zip tie, but you can feel it starting to separate, giving you more hope.

You have no idea how long you have so you stop nibbling halfway through the tie and sit up as straight as possible, twisting the tie around and yanking your wrists apart forcefully. It takes several tries and you’re just about to give up before you yank one last time with all of the frustration and anger you have in your body and the tie snaps apart.

“Holy shit,” you sob in relief, quietly moving to get off of the bed before realizing— “fuck, my ankles.”

You can’t reach them to bite through the zip tie so you fiddle with the locking mechanism, pushing the small plastic latch this way and that with your fingernail until it gives way and loosens enough for you to slip out.

You look around for shoes, not about to make the same mistake as last time, and finally find them under the bed, slipping them on as quietly as possible and heading out of the door and down the stairs.

You’re almost out, freedom just out of reach, when keys jingle in the lock of the front door and you freeze for a moment before running to the hallway closet and hiding in it, holding your breath for dear life amongst coats and various household items. You peek through the slots and fear seizes your heart when you see Jaehyun walk past the closet and up to the second landing.

You don’t waste any time, immediately slipping out of the closet just in time to hear Jaehyun swear loudly, footsteps thundering down the stairs, and the unmistakable sound of a gun cocking has you panicking as you rush towards the front door.

“Don’t…move.” Jaehyun’s voice sounds out from behind you, and you turn slowly to face him. He’s got the gun pointed directly at your chest and your eyes widen and your breathing picks up as you realize the very real possibility that you might get killed. “Jaemin picked a difficult one, I see.”

“Jaemin wouldn’t want me dead,” you say desperately, shifting in panic each time Jaehyun moves to the side, not even realizing that he’s been slowly and subtly maneuvering you both so he’s blocking the front door and you’re forced further into the house.

“Jaemin wouldn’t mind you incapacitated.” Jaehyun points out, instead aiming the gun at your knee.

“Please don’t,” you beg, tears welling up in your eyes, and he raises one eyebrow skeptically.

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t.”

“Why are you helping him, anyway? You’re a cop; surely you know they’ve been looking for me.”

“He’s my brother,” Jaehyun answers your question like you’re stupid and you hide the way it makes you bristle with anger. “He makes dumb choices, yeah, but having his back is what family’s for.”

“I have a family, too,” you sniffle, and he blinks at you impassively.

“I really don’t care.”

Jaehyun’s face is frighteningly emotionless as he points the gun at your leg. You’ve got nowhere to run, and your hope is almost entirely snuffed out. You close your eyes and wait for the unimaginable pain to come with a bullet to the leg.

You flinch violently at the loud thud that startles you, and snap your eyes open at the familiar grunt, praying you’re not imagining things. Could it really be—?

Sure enough, Jaehyun is staggering from Ryujin’s powerful blow to the back of his head with a baseball bat. His grip on the gun slips and it hits the floor, making you flinch yet again as you pray it doesn’t go off. You dive for the gun at the same time Jaehyun does, but Ryujin kicks him hard in the side, the larger male groaning loudly in pain as one hand goes to clutch his side. You take the opportunity and snatch the gun off of the floor, quickly clambering to your feet and aiming the gun at his pained form on the floor.

“If you even think about moving, I will blow your fucking brains out.” You seethe, holding the gun with both hands and, truthfully, you’re surprised you’re not shaking, chalking it up to the shock and adrenaline.

“You don’t know how to shoot a gun.” Jaehyun sneers at you and you just smile, aiming at the wall behind him and pulling the trigger. The gun jerks back in your hand as a bullet tears a small hole through the wall, and Jaehyun’s face goes gray, much to your satisfaction.

“I’m sure I can figure it out.” You smile humorlessly down at him and you watch as he swallows thickly. “We’re going to leave now. I’m going to keep this gun. And if I ever see you again—I don’t care if it’s at the goddamn supermarket—I will put a bullet through your thick ass skull,” you promise, your voice low and trembling with poorly restrained rage (and fear—definitely fear).

Jaehyun’s furious yet dead-set gaze on you is beyond unnerving, but you shake off the jitters as best you can.

You and Ryujin slowly inch towards the door, never moving your eyes away from Jaehyun, and right as Ryujin inches by him, he lunges for her ankle, making her jump away in surprise and barely get away. You and Ryujin both scream and you point the gun at his legs, not even thinking before you pull the trigger.

A loud gunshot rings out, your hands jerking back once more from the gun’s recoil, and Jaehyun practically roars in pain, grabbing his wounded thigh and squeezing hard in an attempt to slow the blood loss.

“I hope I hit a fucking artery.” You spit, taking the opportunity while both of Jaehyun’s hands are busy to lurch forward and kick him in the side as hard as you can.

“Fuck—you fucking bitch—” Jaehyun’s words come out in pained gasps as he grasps his side with one bloodied hand, gritting his teeth in agony, and you and Ryujin make a run for it. You’re in absolute shock and disbelief as you stumble out of the house you’ve been held captive in for weeks.

You could faint from joy when you catch sight of Yuna’s car waiting outside the house, the car still on and running as you two rush to the car, climbing in the backseat.

“Let’s go, go, go—” Yuna yells, not even waiting until Ryujin is done shutting the door to drive off as quickly as possible, her tires screeching.

There’s a moment of silence in the car where you and Ryujin look at each other and as you two lock eyes, she leans over to you and pulls you into a tight hug, trying her best to soothe you as you shake and tremble in her arms with the force of your crying. Your shoulder feels damp, you realize when you finally compose yourself enough to pull away, and you see that Ryujin has tears silently streaming down her cheeks.

“We thought you—that he—” Ryujin hiccups, and you hug her again tightly as she takes her turn to cry. “We never stopped looking for you.”

“Thank you,” you gush, the two words feeling embarrassingly inconsequential compared to the absolutely overwhelming relief and gratitude you feel. “I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you—”

“Don’t even mention it.” Yuna weaves through traffic precariously, and you’ve never been so relieved to be in the car with your haphazard driver of a friend.

“How the hell did you find me?” You can’t help but wonder.

Ryujin sags in relief and exhaustion against the backseat, her free hand not holding the baseball bat gripping your free hand not holding the gun. “We just had to figure out Jaemin’s name and address and the other day I got lucky and spotted him in the grocery store, so I followed him home.” Ryujin says, her words stumbling out together in her rush to speak. “It was like a miracle.”

“You’re telling me.” You laugh for what feels like the first time in ages, relief flooding through your body as the sight of the police precinct comes into view.

It’s over. It’s finally over.

“So what brings you to therapy?” The woman sitting in a large gray armchair watches you over the rims of her glasses. Her gaze is intent but kind, and she crosses one leg over the other.

Her navy blue blazer and skirt are a cute combination, you think. The color brings out the warm brown of her eyes, and the slightly lighter shade of blue on the wall behind her only helps you feel a bit more at ease.

You take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself before you speak.

“About two months ago, I, um…I was stalked and kidnapped.” You exhale slowly. “Or abducted, I guess—you can’t kidnap an adult—but, um, yeah.”

You chance a peek at the woman across from you to see her eyebrows raised in surprise, a concerned frown on her face.

“That must have been terrifying.”

“Yeah, for sure. The guy who did it is in prison now, thankfully, but it’s definitely changed a lot of things in my everyday life, y’know?” you mumble, and she hums thoughtfully, nodding.

“Can you tell me a bit more about that?”

“Well, um. I ended up moving out of my apartment because I just didn’t feel safe there. I live in a different building now with a great security system.”

“That’s good.” She encourages you to continue speaking with a small wave of her hand.

“I also quit my job because that’s how J— …my stalker—found me. Now I work as a waitress.”

“I see,” she muses. “How is that working out?”

“It’s good,” you say with a shrug. “Meeting all those people every day is kind of nerve-wracking, but maybe it’ll get better with time.”

“I believe it will,” she assures you, and you can feel yourself relaxing a bit more. “How have you been sleeping?”

“Not very well,” you chuckle humorlessly. “I’m so…jumpy nowadays that any sounds at night wake me up instantly.”

“I can imagine.”

“And then there are the, um…the nightmares.” She seems to be waiting for you to elaborate, but a lump rises in your throat, rendering you silent for the time being.

Avoiding her gaze, you scan the room for something to ground you and stop the tears pricking at the backs of your eyes. Your eyes land on the placard on her desk, your eyes tracing over the embossed letters of her name—Dr. Jiyoon Choi—and you envision what the nameplate would feel like under your fingertips.

It’d be cool to the touch, you think; it’s metal, after all. Smooth, too. You mentally run your fingers over the ridges of the letters of her name, and—

“Nightmares are common for people who have been through traumatic events like your situation.” Dr. Choi’s voice is gentle but brings you out of your dissociative state nonetheless.

“I figured,” you mutter with a nod.

“It will take time to work through everything you’ve been through.” Dr. Choi explains, and you nibble at your bottom lip as you listen to her. “Nightmares and flashbacks are common in people with PTSD—Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.”

“Yeah,” you echo lamely.

“As is dissociating at times,” she continues, and you think back to the several times you’ve spaced out in the thirty minutes you’ve been in her office. “It’s your brain trying to protect you from the memories.”

“I need it to try a little harder,” you sigh, and her lips quirk upwards into a fond smile.

“Be easy on it, hm? And yourself; you’ve both been through so much.” There’s something so deeply affirming about her confirmation of your situation, a professional signing off on your trauma, that the dam breaks and you take in a deep, shaky inhale before bursting into tears.

The only other sound to be heard apart from your crying is the ticking of the clock on the wall.

Tick, tick, tick.

The sureness of the ticking, the reliability of the sound, is somehow calming to you, your ragged breaths slowly starting to sync up with the clock.

Tick, tick, tick.

Inhaling and exhaling deeply, you manage to compose yourself once more and look up at Dr. Choi—who, you now notice, has passed you a small blue tissue box.

Tick, tick, tick.

“That was embarrassing,” you mumble, slightly chuckling as you try to play it off as a joke.

“That was expected,” Dr. Choi corrects you, sitting forward in her seat and adjusting her posture. “May I ask a question?”

“Go ahead.”

“Was that the first time you’ve cried since everything happened?”

Tick, tick, tick.

“Yes,” you admit.

“I think that’s a good sign,” she encourages you. “You’re starting to make progress by processing your emotions.”

“Yeah?” Your voice sounds small but hopeful.

Dr. Choi nods reassuringly. “Yes.”

There’s a small beat of silence and you look down and run the pads of your thumbs over the smooth surfaces of your fingernails.

“Is there anything else you’d like to share today?” Dr. Choi asks gently, and you shake your head. “Okay. In that case, I’m afraid that’s all the time we have for our session today.”

“Thank you.” You stand up and take your bag, smiling feebly as you head for her door.

“Of course.” She smiles. Your hand is just wrapping around the doorknob when she speaks again. “Will I be seeing you next week?”

You don’t say anything for a moment, your fist squeezing the cool metal of the doorknob.

You want to get rid of the dark cloud that feels like it’s been following you around for the past two months—you want to be able to walk down the street without looking over your shoulder every three seconds—you want…you want to feel better.

“Yes,” you answer, turning back to look at her with a small smile. “You will.”

“Wonderful. My secretary can set you up for our next appointment. Take care and get home safe.” Dr. Choi bids you goodbye, and you nod again before exiting her office.

It’s a start, you think. A pretty good one, at that.

Jaemin lazily thumbs through the pile of magazines in the pathetic excuse for a library the penitentiary has to offer, biding his time until the guards switch out their shifts. The clock ticks on endlessly, driving Jaemin closer and closer to insanity with every tick, tick, tick—

The air is uncomfortably warm and smells faintly of bleach and stale breath.

Tick, tick, tick—

The guard on duty yawns and looks at his watch.

Tick, tick, tick—

Another inmate in the “library” asks for permission to use the computer. Jaemin scoffs, wondering if his fellow prisoner is going to entertain himself with a game of Sudoku, Solitaire, or Minesweeper, seeing as how they have no access to the internet.

Tick, tick, tick—

Jaemin stands up slowly, so as not to draw too much attention to himself, and walks between the bookshelves holding barely anything worthwhile. He browses through the book selection, slender fingers stroking the spine of each hardcover book, before he finally finds what he’s been looking for.

He brings the book back to his seat and angles the spine up so the cover is easily visible to anyone who may look at him. Feigning a pensive expression, Jaemin flips to the middle of the book. The back half of the pages have been meticulously hollowed out in the shape of a rectangle and there, in the makeshift pocket, lies a smartphone.

Jaemin smirks to himself, smoothly pocketing the phone, and busies himself with looking through the pages of the book that haven’t been carved into. Hardcover books are typically off-limits, barely even allowed in the penitentiary, but Jaemin’s been getting some special perks due to “good behavior.”

To avoid arousing suspicion, he closes the book and gets up to put it back on the shelf, instead picking up a random self-help softcover book and leafing through the pages idly until that glorious tick, tick, tick—

There’s a brief sound of shuffling as the guard on duty stands up and offers his seat to the new guard about to assume his post. The first guard leaves, and the new guard sits down in the seat, leaning back to get comfortable.

Jaemin waits.

Tick, tick, tick.

The guard sighs, already bored with his assignment, and Jaemin enacts his plan. Scrunching his face up in discomfort, he stands up and, clutching his stomach, makes his way over to the guard, who sits up in his seat immediately, apprehensive upon Jaemin’s approach.

“Can I help you?” The guard asks, his voice rough like sandpaper, and Jaemin groans once for effect.

“I need to use the bathroom. I think I’m gonna be sick.” He moans, and the guard’s eyebrows furrow as he appears to think about it. Jaemin can only hope this guard isn’t on a sick little power trip and won’t feel like denying him the bathroom just for the hell of it.

To really sell it, Jaemin lurches forward, doubling over as he mimics the sounds of poorly restrained retching. The guard’s face contorts into disgust, and he waves at the hallway in admission.

“I knew there was something fishy about those Sloppy Joes for lunch.” Jaemin hears the guard muttering to himself and masks his smirk with another discomfort-borne twisting of his lips.

He staggers past the guards in the hallway, walking past one tall, burly guard Jaemin has a feeling he shouldn’t piss off and a thin, almost lanky guard who could probably blow away if the wind got too strong, and makes his way into the bathroom, locking himself in a stall and dropping to his knees. As he hunches over the toilet bowl, he fishes out the sleek black rectangle from his pocket and powers the phone on, quickly opening up the internet browser and typing in what he’s looking for.

Jaemin fake retches loudly to keep up appearances, fingers of his free hand drumming impatiently on his lower thigh, and sighs in relief when the familiar page loads.

FunBunny is now live.

“Not now, FunBunny,” Jaemin mutters. “I have someone in mind.”

He types in the username he’s had swimming around in his mind for the past three months since he’s been locked up and when the page buffers, no doubt due to the shitty internet connection in the prison, Jaemin sucks his teeth.

“Come on, come on, come on.” He’s alight with a buzz, the jitters settling in as the page finally loads, only for his heart to drop to the bottom of his stomach.

User ‘PL4YG1RL’ does not exist. Please try a different search term.

Jaemin stares at the screen incredulously, anger and frustration building slowly but steadily and now he swears he really can feel bile rising in his throat.

“Impossible.” He spits through gritted teeth, now dangerously close to losing his composure. He’s waited three months—three fucking months—to see you again, and you’ve managed to slip through his fingers.

He refreshes the page in a refusal to accept the situation, gripping the phone so tightly his knuckles turn white, and has to restrain the urge to slam the phone down on the grimy tiles in defeat when the page finishes loading to show the same screen as before.

“Fuck, shit, fuck!” Jaemin slams his hand against the wall of the bathroom stall before growling, his tethers to sanity starting to slip away the further he spirals into his thoughts.

“Inmate, what’s going on in there?” One of the guards from the hallway calls out, the bass in his voice snapping Jaemin back to reality.

“Got sick from the Sloppy Joes,” Jaemin grunts back, running his fingers through his hair and barely restraining himself from yanking the locks out at the root.

“Those always seemed odd to me, y’know.” Another voice, a thinner, more mousy voice sounds out, presumably the less imposing of the two guards. “Always thought they smelled kinda funny.”

“Yeah.” The burly guard is dismissive at best, and whatever the mousy guard says as a follow-up comment goes unheard by Jaemin as he refocuses his attention on the disappointing sight on his phone screen.

Jaemin stands up finally, shutting the phone off and pocketing it once more. He flushes the toilet with his foot and exits the stall, washing his hands. He stares himself down in the dirty bathroom mirror, at the dark circles that have formed under his eyes since his time in prison began, the scowl Jaemin’s mouth is unwaveringly twisted into, and he grits his teeth. He shuts off the faucet, dries his hands, and heads out of the bathroom and back to the library with a building resolve in his chest.

Jaemin will find you again—no matter what it takes.

thank you for reading! i hope you enjoyed :) tips are greatly appreciated!

SUPPORT ME? VENMO !! CASHAPP !! KO-FI !! WISHLIST !! (why?)

#jaemin smut #nct smut #na jaemin smut #nct dream smut #tw noncon

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jiyeonnnn · 1 year

Text

NCT DREAM 00' LINE + MARK — WHERE DO THEY CXM !?

︎ ︎︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎︎ ︎ ︎ ︎︎━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

PAIRING: l. mark, h. renjun, l. jeno, l. haechan, n. jaemin x male reader (separate scenarios)

GENRE: smut

WARNINGS: cxm play basically, breedxng, throatfuxking, unprotected intercourse, degrxdation, dirtytalk, riding, stepcxst (jeno's part), petnames, barebxck

AUTHOR'S NOTE: hello, i wrote this one because of pure boredom. hope y'all enjoy the mess, lovelots. reblogs and interactions are highly appreciated.

▬ !! MARK LEE

at first, mark did it for fun, but now, he can't seem to stop painting your back with his cum as he watches it messily flow down your body.

"SHIT— MARK— I'M GONNA—" you moaned out loud, on all fours gripping the pillows and sheets as you felt the wave of an alluring climax approaching you.

"hm? are you now, baby boy?", the way your walls contracted tightly around his cock sent mark into an overdrive of bliss and pleasure, and you could feel it by how his hands tightened their grip on your waist as he barebacks you — thrusting at a rougher and wilder pace you've barely felt before. "go on, pretty boy, let go for me, yeah?" he whispered as he neared his orgasm, "show me how good my cock feels inside your tight little ass."

he continued to fuck deep into you, watching you scream his name like a cheap little whore as you plead him not to stop, bringing you closer and closer to the brink of your orgasm.

soon as you came hard, mark couldn't resist the tightness of your hole clenching around him - the tightness of your walls urging mark to pull out as he cummed all over your stomach, both of your cum releases mixing.

you were still recovering from the prior orgasm, your legs quivering, when you felt mark pulling you by your legs closer, much rougher this time. he inserted his cock back inside you, the head of his cock kissing the sensitive flesh of your prostate that sent you to the edge once again, and it brought tears to flow down your cheeks.

with a devilish grin painted on his face, he kissed your tears as he thrusted relentlessly again.

︎ ︎︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎︎ ︎ ︎ ︎︎━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

▬ !! HUANG RENJUN

renjun is obsessed with your abs and he's not shy about it. he loves them so much that he can't resist cumming all over them whenever he gets the chance.

the bed was shaking like crazy as renjun pounded into you, making the headboard slam against the wall. you were completely spent, your body limp and exhausted from all the intense fucking.

"you're so fucking perfect, puppy" renjun moaned as he kissed your shoulder and squeezed your chest. "your body was made for me."

you could barely even respond, too focused on the intense pleasure building up inside you. suddenly, you came hard, your body convulsing uncontrollably as your cum spurted everywhere all over your stomach. grinning, renjun moaned as he watched you orgasm hard in front of him - it was such a turn on seeing you go dumb chasing your own release.

renjun couldn't control himself too as he continued to groan loudly, thrusting hard to reach his own climax.

finally, he pulled out and shot his hot cum all over your abs, making a mess all over your toned stomach. "god, you're so fucking hot," he breathed as he massaged your abs and spread his cum around.

you drifted off to sleep, feeling completely spent and satisfied, as renjun whispered sweet nothings into your ear and cleaned you up.

︎ ︎︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎︎ ︎ ︎ ︎︎━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

▬ !! LEE JENO

his breeding kink is high at all times, jeno would cum deep inside you and enjoy the pleasure of fucking it back inside over and over again — regardless whether may it be his fingers or his girthy cock, he just wouldn't let his hot cum spill out of you.

a series of whimpers left jeno's mouth as you ride him - drool seeping through the sides of his lips as he moaned your name shamelessly. "more please, my prince," jeno mumbled as he gripped the sheets underneath him, his cheeks flushed with a tint of soft pink all over it and his forehead sweating more and more. "daddy's close, little one - please don't stop,"

you couldn't even form coherent words to talk back as your high comes to a close - a whimpering mess is what you are right now as you ride his cock with abandon; loving how his cock stretches you in all the right ways. jeno grabbed your waist so hard, his fingers digging onto your flesh so tightly that you're sure to wake up with bruises the morning after - but you don't care.

jeno came hard, your name spilling out of his mouth as he rode his orgasm. his cum started streaming down your thighs as you proceeded to bounce more - eager to follow your awaiting high, and it didn't take long for you to cum all over his stomach.

but things weren't far from being over. jeno's grip on your waist tightens, commanding you to bounce more and keep going. "don't you dare fucking stop, little boy," he sterned as he flips you on all fours.

he nibbled your earlobe as you trembled from the overstimulation, "i'm going to fuck you all night long, baby boy," he said, his thrusts coming in deeper, not letting his cum escape out of your hole, "i won't stop 'til you're full with your stepbrother's cum."

︎ ︎︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎︎ ︎ ︎ ︎︎━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

▬ !! LEE HAECHAN

he's a messy guy when he cums; haechan is shameless and doesn't care about cumming everywhere. as long as both of you get off, that's all that matters to him, even if he leaves a mess behind.

you ended up in the practice room, not the most private place, but it didn't stop you two. against the mirror, haechan pounded into you relentlessly - hard and fast. "damn, baby boy, you feel so good."

haechan grabbed your neck with one hand, and the other around your torso as he continued to fuck you. "h-hyuck, i'm gonna cum," you whispered, searching for bars to hold onto.

he released his grip on your neck and played with your cock, rubbing circles until you came all over his hand. the clenching of your hole made him dizzy, and he pulled out to cum, not caring where it landed.

as the both of you halted to catch your breath, haechan chuckled, "i do consider myself an artist," he said, pointing to his cum he painted on the practice room mirrors. you rolled your eyes, and he pulled you closer. he pushed you down to your knees and pulled your hair to look up at him, "do you prefer me painting on your face instead?"

︎ ︎︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎ ︎︎ ︎ ︎ ︎︎━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

▬ !! NA JAEMIN

jaemin was all about cumming in your mouth and throat; making sure you swallowed every last drop of him. he wouldn't let any of his cum escape your mouth, or else he'd just have to fuck your throat again regardless if it's swollen or not.

you took all of him in your mouth, sucking him fast before he had to go back to the practice room. "you fucking whore," he said as he grabbed your hair. "so goddamn needy for me and my cock that you came all the way here for it."

you massaged his balls, causing him to groan and lean back in his chair. your head bobbed faster and you used your hands to fill in the spots your mouth couldn't reach. the sound of you gagging around his cock filled the room, and jaemin lives for it.

jaemin grabbed your hair to stop your movement as he pushed your head down on his thick cock, keeping you in place. you groaned around him, your throat not able to handle it as your nails began to sink deep into his thighs, leaving crescent-shaped marks on his skin.

"oh, what do I have here?" jaemin said, holding back his moans. "my little slut can't take all this cock? such a shame, my boy." he started thrusting into your mouth without any sign of mercy, not caring about the tears streaming down your cheeks.

jaemin moaned loudly as his warm cum filled your mouth, the salty taste coating your tongue. he pulled away and you coughed, his cum barely escaping your lips when he forcefully pushed his fingers in your mouth. "swallow, now."

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ikozen · 3 months

Text

PUSSY FAIRY PT 1

pairing: na jaemin x fem! reader/mark lee x fem! reader

word count: 660 words

synopsis: nct dream members being munches for pussy

warnings: pet names(pretty girl, good girl, baby), dirty talking, oral(f. receiving), dom!mark & jaemin, sub!reader, fingering, pussy slapping, bondage, tongue fucking, intended for 17 & up!!

mark can’t help himself but to tend to your needs first before his. he loves showing you that you’re his special girl. taking his time with you as he savors the moment and makes sure you’re enjoying yourself.

“f-fuck mark. oh my g-god..” you whined out from the pleasure. mark looked at you through hooded eyes as you held your boobs for support, rocking your hips forward for more friction. “do you want my fingers? hmm princess?” fuck you looked so adorable to him, whining for more as he took his time circling your clit.

you desperately nodded your head as mark leaves open mouth kisses on your stomach. inserting 2 of his fingers, mark feels your walls clench around him with a whine followed after. you were so wet that the only things in the room that can be heard was your moans and the sounds from your pussy. “baby i- can- aaah!!” you cried out as mark curled his fingers in you.

your release coming near and the undeniable pleasure you were feeling was so good that you closed your legs trying to make mark slow down. “keep your legs open baby. i wanna keep seeing your pretty pussy.” mark kissed your thighs, forcing them back open. his eyes fixated as his fingers went in and out of you, with your slick coating his fingers. “Ouuu, fuck, fuck, fuck!” your legs shook as you released on his finger. pulling out his fingers, mark can’t help but smirk at your cum on his fingers. without hesitation, mark slides his fingers in his mouth tasting you as a moan slips from his mouth. god he loved how you tasted. “you can handle another orgasm, right baby?”

jaemin is very patient with you. although his patience can run thin when you don’t listen. he can’t have you disobeying him when he’s trying to pleasure his pretty girl. he’ll make you beg until you can learn to listen to his commands.

“you taste so good, baby.” the position you were in was embarrassing to say the least. legs pushed to your chest with your hands gripping the sheets from the newfound pleasure that jaemin is welcoming in your body. “y-yeah ju-just like that jaemin.” you ran your hand through jaemin’s hair as he used his tongue to fuck you, relentlessly targeting your clit.

“I said keep your hands to yourself. It seems my pretty girl needs to be punished.” letting out a whimper, you couldn’t help but to think about how jaemin would punish you. retrieving rope from the draw of his bedside table, jaemin ties your hands in front of you. Maybe now you’ll listen. “you’ll be a good girl and listen now, right?” you desperately nodded wanting jaemin to use his fingers on you leaving you a crying mess.

instead of jaemin’s fingers you’re met with a harsh slap on your pussy, making you yelp loudly. earning another slap from jaemin, you moan out digging your nails into the rope tied around your wrists. “hmm, you like that baby?” before you could answer back jaemin fucks your pussy violently with his fingers as he watched you arch you back from pleasure. “ooh! ja-jaemin s-slow down, ahh!” your pleas went out one ear and through the other as jaemin continued to finger you, just enjoying the sight of you trying to take his fingers. he could get drunk off of your moans.

your orgasm was slowly approaching, hoping the knot in your stomach can be undone. “you’ll be a good girl and cum for me, won’t you baby?” jaemin looked at you with a lazy smirk on his face. “yes, yes, yes!” you cried out as you gripped the rope even harder for support as tears pricked at the side of your face. “cum for me baby.” with one last thrust of jaemin’s finger in you, you screamed out in pleasure as you came on jaemin’s fingers. “on your knees, now.”

tags: @scarfac3 @miucries @yeagersex @ilwonuu @thestarry-nights @haechansbbg + comment if you want to be added♡

#. 𖦹 ikozen ݁ ˖#nct #nct dream #kpop #kpop x reader #mark lee #mark lee x reader #na jaemin #na jaemin x reader #nct smut #drabble #mark lee smut #na jaemin smut #mark lee x fem reader #na jaemin x fem reader

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127luvr · 6 months

Text

009 I’m your Man

. ˚ ｡ ° ˖ ⁺ ｡ ˚ ⋆˙ ✧ ⋆ ˗ˋˏ ✩ ˎˊ˗ ⋆ ˙ ✧ ⋆ ｡ ° ⋆ ࿓ . ˚

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jina1028 · 24 days

Text

Smoothie

Haechan x fem!reader

Categories: smut, recreational use of alcohol, sex in public, car sex, fwb, blowjob, tell me if I missed something

A.N. I feel like this is kinda short compared to my other works but I still hope you have fun reading <3

~♡~

You were at a club with your friends and currently seated around a table sipping your drinks and talking nonsense. As most of the times you and your friends got a bit drunk, the subject of your conversation was drifting towards nsfw territory. Your innocent question about favorite cocktails turned into a discussion about blowjobs.

"Tonight I chose piña colada because you know what they say about pineapple" Haechan winked at you, making you roll your eyes, but bringing a not well concealed smile on your face nonetheless.

A chorus of groans, giggles and bickering was interrupted by Jisung, a confused expression on his face "What do they say about pineapple?", the youngest soon regretting asking the question when Chenle answered in a loud voice "You're so clueless, everyone knows it makes your cum taste better!", a pair of girls passing by turned their heads towards the two boys as they heard the exchange, Jisung blushing hard and diverting his eyes from them as he tried to silence his friend, Chenle bursting out laughing at the scene.

"You know" Haechan picked up the conversation again "mine tastes like smoothie" and he sipped his drink while staring at you.

"No one believes you" Renjun stated, Jeno nodding beside him.

"How do you even know, did you taste it yourself?" Mark argued, Jaemin almost snorting his drink out from his nose, you almost choking on your own drink.

Haechan acted offended, frowning and getting louder as he spoke "Anyone wanna try it? I dare you!"

He earned a mix of disgusted faces and 'eww's from the table until Jaemin commented "Y/N doesn't seem too much against it" a playful look in his eyes.

Everyone turned to you, who stayed silent sipping from your straw. You didn't know if it was the alcohol, Haechan's amused gaze on you or the crush you had on him from two years ago, or maybe everything together, but eventually you put your drink down on the table, stared back at Heachan, shrugged and replied "Maybe I wanna try so I can judge by myself."

Howls and whistles erupted from your friends, Haechan though was strangely quiet, just a sly smirk on his face while the two of you maintained eye contact for a few seconds before he turned his attention to the rest of your friends "Enough, clearly Y/N drank a bit too much, now you guys should go and have fun dancing and picking up some girls while I take her home so she can rest and sober up-"

"I'm not that drunk" you protested, interrupting him.

"Y/N, come on, I'm trying to come up with an excuse here" he sighed dramatically, getting up from his chair, coming to you and grabbing your hand, starting to drag you out from the club while waving goodbye to your friends "Jeno, Jaemin, you should take a taxi later to get back home, I'm gonna be busy."

Everyone was flabbergasted at the sudden turn of events, just like you as well, starting to laugh as soon as you realized what was happening and letting Haechan escort you to his car.

"Haechan, wait, I thought you were joking... Are we really leaving?" you questioned, still hoping this wouldn't turn out to be one of his silly jokes.

He turned around to you while opening the driver's door "Y/N I'm so serious right now, unless you wanna go back inside and tell them it was a joke."

You looked him in the eyes and opened the front passenger's door "Get inside the car."

And he obeyed, inserting the key to start the engine as soon as you closed the doors. You stopped him though, worried about the risks of driving after drinking and making him pout "You have a point but I really wanted to go to your place or somewhere private"

You looked around the dark parking lot "We're in a corner, it's dark, there's no one around, everyone is inside having fun..."

Haechan struggled to stay focused as you stroked his thigh, inching up more and more until you managed to unzip his jeans and tuck your hand inside to slowly and steadily stroke at his half hard member through his boxers, bringing more blood to it as it swelled up under the pressure of your tantalizing hand.

"There's other cars around here, what if someone comes too close..." he started to argue, trying to convince himself more than you, but eventually sighing deeply at your ministrations, his eyelids fluttering closed.

"It will just look like you're sleeping, no one will notice" you reassured him, removing your hand from his boxers just to push them down enough to free his now erect member, resuming your strokes and inching closer with your face.

His lips slightly parted as he let out a soft moan, hand finding your hair as you finally reached out your tongue to tease the underside of his tip. He tried to push a little to stop your teasing, impatience getting the best of him but you warned him grazing the tip with your teeth, earning a hiss from him, his pleading eyes now set on yours and swifting to your mouth, so close to his member but still not giving him what he really wanted.

Haechan felt so desperate, it just slipped out of his mouth before he could realize "Please... Take it, please..."

Your pussy pulsed and you felt your folds getting wetter with your arousal "I'll make you feel good" you purred and with your tongue flat on the underside of his cock you finally closed your lips around the tip and hollowed your cheeks, giving it a nice suck, Haechan instinctively fisting your hair to ground himself at the sensation.

You started to bob your head on his cock, occasionally hollowing your cheeks, sucking and swirling your tongue on the tip, dipping it in the slit collecting his precum. You had to admit it tasted good and doubled your efforts to make him cum faster so you could taste his seed.

Hachan felt dizzy, he couldn't decide if he wanted to savor the moment with his eyes closed or if he wanted to stay focused watching the way your mouth and hand worked on him.

He tasted so good and was responding so well, moaning and hissing every time you sucked on the tip and twisted your hand on his slick base, you couldn't help but get cock drunk, moaning around his cock and feeling your wetness seep through your panties.

Haechan realized he was getting too loud so he clamped his free hand on his mouth to try and keep it quiet, his other hand still tangled in your hair, pulling a little as he started get closer to the edge, calling your name in quiet whispers to try and warn you.

You heard him but didn't care, and instead brought your free hand to fondle his balls encouraging him to let it go, sucking greedily on his head and pumping the lenghth with your other hand.

That's when you felt the grip on your hair tightening, his breath hitching and finally letting go with a low moan, his cock twitching in your mouth as it spilled his thick seed on your tongue, a curse leaving his lips when he realized what he just did.

You kept softly sucking on his cock until he had nothing left to give you and you let it out of your mouth, a string of saliva breaking in the process.

Haechan watched you closely as you finally swallowed his cum with a gulp and smiled at him, teasing him repeating his own statement from earlier "It really tastes like smoothie."

#smut #kpop smut #fanfic #nct dream smut #haechan smut #haechan x reader

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tyxoxo · 1 year

Text

Cherry Waves

pairing: jeno x fem!reader

genre: thriller, angst, kidnapper/stalker jeno au, jaemin + mark inserts

words: 11.9k

warnings: stalking, kidnapping, murder, blood, knives, cnc smut, oral, fingering, choking/breath play, voyeurism, spitting, unprotected sex, its lowkey giving incel, post-traumatic stress, stockholm syndrome

(this is purely fiction, warnings in bold mean potentially triggering cotent)

a/n: the feds prolly looking at my search history like “👀” but on another note, this is the longest piece of writing i’ve ever published. so pls pls pls! send feedback! this was a rollercoaster of a fic to write ._.

major hugs and kisses to @glitchfiles for helping me decide on an ending and @pradajaehyun for proofreading!

playlist:

deftones - cherry waves • rosemary • bored • be quiet and drive

clams casino - blast

—

“i’m kind of scared. do you think it’ll bite?”

“noo, don’t worry baby. it won’t. squirrels are always welcome to food.” your boyfriend reassured you, chuckling in the presence of your endearing timidness.

the two of you were currently exploring a nature park, choosing to celebrate your 5 year anniversary in the outdoors, away from the bustling city life.

“here, just take the almond and approach them slowly, they’ll come.” he said as he handed you one to start, out of the bag that read Blue Diamond Almonds.

“how about you go first?”

the two of you shared a laugh, your partner nonetheless agreeing to demonstrate.

just like you expected, he took one almond in his hand and began to tread softly over to a family of kits, and a mother. the four were eagerly awaiting the treat, using their noses to scour over to him. one baby squirrel was more brave than the others as the rest halted once your boyfriend began to kneel down.

in one sniff and a switch of its tail, the squirrel grabbed the almond and hurried back to his family.

“see! not that hard! your turn.” he rose up in the process, standing close by in case you opted out.

“alright, here i gooo.” you geared up the courage, doing exactly as he did, approaching softly towards the group of squirrels.

you cocked your head to the side in curiosity at the fact they all ran away in unison, back into the green shrubs they called home. and with not enough time to save you, you heard the scuffing of shoes against pavement and a loud crack sound to follow.

as you turned towards the deafening sound, your boyfriend collapsed onto the floor, his head making contact with the concrete in just as strong of a crash that you heard just mere seconds before.

you weren’t sure if a scream managed to escape, as the hooded figure armed with the hammer made sure that you weren’t conscious to tell the tale.

—

the constant motion of your head banging against a hard surface is what stirred you. your eyelids were heavy, not just from the forced slumber, but from the blood that managed to seep down from your scalp and cake onto your skin. the familiar smell of iron flooded your senses, reminding you of your current state.

somehow you were moving, not on your own accord. you couldn’t have been... your hands and feet were bound with what felt like rope, based on the friction as it dug in your skin.

you were moving inside a van, laying down in a fetal position, with your boyfriend across from you doing the same; though he didn’t seem to be conscious.

it was hard to tell if he was breathing, due to the jounce of the van driving over rough terrain.

the entire vehicle wasn’t average, all of the backseats were gone, not even folded down into a compartment. it felt industrial, with what seemed like new steel framework covering the entire interior.

you lacked the energy to produce any sound, let alone turn to the direction of the driver's seat to see who was transporting you. the salt from your tears was the last you could recall before falling back into a deep sleep.

—

to say you reanimated back in the comfort of your own home, with your partner by your side would be the highlight of your life. to say that what all happened was merely a dream.

yet, your harsh reality was thrust upon you once you awoke again. all of your limbs were still bound, with the only appropriate action being observing where you were now.

you were placed on a cold, grey concrete floor, plastic tarp covering the walls and ceiling, with a single LED work light standing in the corner offering plenty of illumination. a standalone workbench was positioned against the left wall, with an abundance of mechanical tools to satisfy any technician.

you knew you were still covered in your own blood, but the smell wasn’t there anymore. instead the nauseating odor of overused bleach coming from a nearby bathroom overtook your senses.

your vision finally began to focus on your boyfriend who was lying directly across from you.

you weren’t sure if your attacker merely forgot to tape your mouths shut in a haste or simply didn’t care. either way, you used what freedom you had left to call out, your scream resonating enough to wake him up.

he winced, teeth covered in crimson from the aftermath of his blunt force trauma. once he met your eyes, tears began to well; relieved to know he was breathing, but pained to see him struggling for clarity.

he scanned the room, just as you did, then settled upon your crying eyes.

“are you okay?! please, tell me you’re okay!”

he was selfless just like always, more concerned about your well-being than his own.

“i-im okay.”

truly you weren’t. your head was pounding, and your arms were beginning to fall asleep from being bound.

“i’m sorry i couldn’t protect you. im-”

“no! don’t say that! we need to get out of here now!” you cut him off immediately, not wanting his words to add onto the anguish you were already feeling.

“just stay there and i’ll come to you.”

you nodded as he began to shimmy along the cold floor, using his coarse shoe soles to push along the concrete.

he paused every other moment, most likely feeling dizzy from his injury.

your hopes were crushed when he was halfway. the sound of multiple door locks being fidgeted with, echoed throughout what you assumed to be the basement. the door creaked, and slammed shut even louder. your boyfriend stopped moving, knowing the end was potentially near.

the view of who or what coming down the stairs was obstructed by the tarp covered wall but within seconds, you saw a man.

who didn’t bother to cover his face.

you kept the fact that he was attractive repressed in your mind. it was more important to realize that you would likely die here now that you saw what he looked like.

he was tall, lean, and young. couldn’t have been much younger or older than you. with raven dark hair that was long enough to form somewhat of a mullet. his bangs covered most of his blank expression, though it didn’t take much squinting to realize his irises were black. an evil black.

your memory was too foggy to remember if he was wearing the same clothes as before. but the white dress shirt, and black slacks didn’t seem familiar; especially the black butcher’s apron.

he stopped at the base of the stairs upon seeing your boyfriend’s attempts to get close to you.

“we can give you whatever you want. we have money. take our cards, whatever. just let us go please!”

he ignored your boyfriend’s pleas, choosing not to even look at him. instead, his eyes bore deep in your own.

fear grew in the pit of your stomach. there were only a few things a guy like him would want from you and the thought of him taking not only your life, but your body shook you down to your bones.

your boyfriend must’ve assumed the same based on his whirling eyes between you and your attacker.

you wished to give him a name, something to represent his depravity. but all thoughts were paused once he began walking slowly in the direction of the workbench.

there was a toolbox and a rolled up utility belt waiting for him, it was just a matter of choice.

he rustled through the box, creating enough noise to elicit terror for the both of you.

it didn’t take long for him to choose one, the light in the corner bouncing off of the stainless steel bowie knife that he pulled from it.

he inspected the blade and it’s sharpness in silence, ignoring the sobbing coming from your disheveled body.

“kill me and just let her go!”

your boyfriend’s cries didn’t go unnoticed, as the mephisto of a man paused his inspection, eyebrows raising as if he would accept that offer.

seeing his side profile from his position at the workbench sparked faint recollection within you.

why did he look familiar?

—

Four Months Ago

—

jeno still wasn’t good enough at adapting to his new life of carnage.

how did he not know that a decomposing body would attract maggots, no matter how “clean” he kept his basement bathroom.

the life he claimed was an “accident.”

atleast that’s what he told himself.

but could a life taken after rejection still be considered an accident? maybe.

the girl took too long.

he cooked for her, provided clothes for her, gave her a place to sleep. yet she was never accepting of his affection.

it was just four days ago that he had to rush to the emergency room on his own volition, to have a laceration on his collarbone stitched. the bitch barely missed his subclavian.

he was beginning to be more lenient after holding her captive at his house for 2 weeks. though he wasn’t sure if there was a beginner’s guide on “how long it should take to actually let a hostage begin to roam your house.” but he learned his lesson after dinner, when she ran towards the kitchen sink and grabbed the sashimi knife.

every attending nurse asked what happened, but he continued to blame it on a “freak accident”: trying to transport a porcelain attachment on his shoulders, tripping and ultimately earning a gash.

somehow they bought it.

ten stitches later, he was discharged. seething at the teeth, he sped back to his house to finish her. he couldn’t have another slip up like that again.

that night he brought the blade into her neck, earning her a matching cut.

it was the first and last time she was ever brave.

now here jeno was, at a utility store in search of his first shovel. he wasn’t picky, he just needed something sturdy enough to help dig his first grave.

off into the distance, he saw you. innocently scanning the shelves for new vanity light bulbs.

you were absolutely perfect.

he felt a sudden magnetic pull to be near you, even smell you. but he had to resist the urge; there was a decomp job waiting for him at home.

it probably wasn’t a good idea to approach you either, as there was a possibility the smell of putrefaction was beginning to attach to his clothes.

from that day on, jeno had been watching you for months.

every outfit you wore, every doe-eyed expression, every bite of your lip was all for him.

even though the two of you were never formally introduced, he knew the proper time would come.

so far he had done well becoming acquainted from afar: he knew where you worked, your grocery store of choice, your primary care doctor, even your favorite drink at the local café.

there was still so much left to uncover. now, he set the goal of finding out your birthday, just to send a batch of flowers to your job when the time came; labeled anonymous of course.

but the dreams of becoming your admirer were crushed the day that jeno found out you had a significant other. he almost chucked the vase he was holding. he didn’t need a vase, he was merely there because you and your boyfriend were at a furniture store, eyeing a new couch for your living room. it was just a method for him to blend in.

he kept his composure so as not to draw attention nor have to pay the store for damages.

the boy you called “babe” was average, nowhere near your level. but you clutched onto him like he was the only thing that mattered.

what did he have, that jeno didn’t?

the obvious answer was you.

jeno sat the vase down before storming out of the store, causing the bell atop of the door to slam and chime throughout the showroom. you actually turned to the direction of the entrance, somewhat alarmed at how loud it rang through the store.

fortunately, you were too late to see him.

that night, jeno began plotting his second abduction. it would be a challenge, no doubt.

he would ultimately regret if you got hurt in the process, but with enough love, he could prove that he was sorry.

and now that his “ex” was taken care of, he could finally focus.

there was a small checklist he made within a couple of days: buy a van, have the backseats removed and fitted with steel.

luckily money wasn’t an issue. but he did get a few weird glances from the auto modifications shop at his request.

“you don’t seem like the type to want a van decked out like this?” the automotive stylist said while looking over jeno’s new 12-seater.

he was sly enough to come up with a lie, plus the amount of money he was willing to drop was all that was needed to seal the deal.

jeno considered himself well-equipped from first girlfriend, it was just a matter of time and preparation before you were his second...

—

Present

—

you couldn’t hold back your screams, not when the love of your life was on his knees, being held at knife point.

“please! stop! you don’t have to d-do this!”

you thrashed on the floor, tears painting your cheeks, mucus staining your upper lip.

jeno had dragged your boyfriend back to his original position with his knife in hand, eventually standing behind him.

he took a handful of your lover’s hair to cock his head back, exposing an array of veins lining his neck.

“i love you so much…” was the last you would ever hear, causing jeno to furrow his brow and snarl in disgust.

the life you once knew was taken in a slash, jeno’s right hand swiping the serrated blade along your boyfriend’s stained skin.

your ears rang from the sound of metal against flesh, all of the tendons snapping at once. velvet poured from the now-open cavity, splattering onto the tarp and jeno’s bare hands.

your guts felt twisted, hearing the gurgling sounds of blood clogging his airway. seeing his eyes roll back into his sockets. so lifeless.

jeno let the body fall on its own.

he was inexplicably satisfied. the pig you called “babe” was now out of the picture, merely a slab of dead meat.

you curled into a ball, letting your head fall to the floor, entire soul succumbing to emptiness.

you simply didn’t care if you were next.

jeno stepped over the corpse and towards you, knife still in hand. with a swipe of his nose, he kneeled down in front of your shaken form, the least bit bothered by the blood smeared on his septum.

you didn’t even flinch when he tossed the knife down, barely missing your chest when it came to a stop on the floor.

“when i come back, we’ll be formally introduced.”

with a click of his tongue he rose up, leaving as if he didn’t just rip out your heart.

it didn’t take long for your boyfriend’s blood to run across the basement floor, the rest clotting near his open throat.

you let the warmth of the dark fluid envelop you. soaking deeper and deeper into your clothes.

—-

“shhh. shouldn’t we be quiet?”

you heard the whispered voice of a woman, giggling in between her words.

your eyes fluttered open, taking a while to adjust from the tears that crystallized over your eyelashes.

how many hours, or days has it been?

based on the way your clothes were now brittle from the dried blood, and the sea of black covering the floor, it had been a while.

unfortunately, your subconscious wasn’t able to repress the memories of your dead boyfriend, not when his cold, stiff body was still on the floor.

his skin had blotched purple, showing signs of livor mortis, his irises a milky white.

“no its fine. come here.”

you heard the familiar voice of your abductor, as he ushered the woman down the basement stairs.

excitement littered both of their faces, the girl hopping from the last step and into his arms.

you didn’t care to recall her appearance, the only thing worth mentioning was her frilly dress and kitten heels.

did she not even react to the scene in front of her? a corpse, and your starving body, still tied up, on a soiled basement floor?

she continued to giggle, keeping her hands on his chest.

“this is amazing…you’re so fucking hot.” her ear-grating words were swallowed by the heavy kiss they shared, attacking each other’s mouths. if it wasn’t for the mess, you were sure that he would’ve slammed her against the tarp covered wall.

his hands explored her body, lifting up the ruffled fabric to expose her ass, squeezing ever so often to hear her whine in pleasure.

you tried your hardest to block out the sounds of their smothered lips. even slamming your eyes shut to fulfill the disbelief that flooded your brain.

“you know i did this for you right?” he spoke in between their labored breaths, pulling away for air.

“of course i did…now can i show you how grateful i am?”

he nodded, palming himself through his black pants.

the girl guided him towards his workbench, pushing his back into the chilled metal table, seeming dominant in her quest to show thanks.

her hands trailed down to his belt buckle, freeing the clasp. you could hear his zipper being undone, and the sigh of relief once she started touching him in the right places.

you didn’t have the strength to demand them to stop, nor the freedom to end your own life. either decision would only fuel her to go slower.

the she-devil got down on her knees, pulling down his pants, giddy at the sight of him with no underwear. his dick sprang free from its confines, snapping back onto his chiseled groin. the girl squealed in satisfaction, to see that he was just as big as her face.

a growl erupted from his throat as she took him in her small hands and licked along the underside of his cock.

she welcomed him in her drooling mouth, keeping her eyes glued to his look of satisfaction. he wasted no time fucking her face, eyes darting between you and the corpse he created.

you winced at every gag you heard, every tug of his lips between his teeth.

she was struggling to fit what she could, even tapping his thighs, signaling to stop. but he wasn’t concerned for her effort.

he was busy swimming in pure ectasy, getting off to the chaos he created.

through it all, you finally managed to mutter the words,

“please kill me…”

—

Day 2

—

the snapping sounds were becoming too hard to ignore. you couldn’t drown them out any longer.

your eyes focused on him again, attempting to stuff the rigid corpse into a large black suitcase.

he panted as he tried to bend the unforgiving joints, fighting against the effects of rigor mortis.

his frustration was growing with every trial and error. and the smell of rotting flesh wasn’t helping either.

you were too catatonic to react…it was just another day in his world.

he eventually succeeded, feeling pleased to have the remains covered before it continued its cycle of decay.

in the corner of his eye, he saw you wiggling in your restraints, trying to make your limbs come alive again.

“who was that girl?”

your voice was crackly, barely audible from dehydration.

“what?” he said with obvious confusion, pausing to look over at your crippled frame.

“the girl you were with?” you gulped afterwards, trying your hardest to lubricate your vocal chords with what saliva you had left.

“must’ve been a nightmare…” he spoke under his breath, shameless in his look of concern.

somehow you believed him.

and the mere thought of dreaming something so wicked disgusted you.

you watched as he finished zipping up the suitcase, taking off his vinyl gloves and tossing them on top.

he then made his way over to you, kneeling down to untie the complex knots on your wrists and ankles.

you chose not to look at him, fearing he would change his mind and leave you there to molder in sorrow.

“i’ve hidden my name for long enough…jeno.”

his eyes managed a subtle smile through his introduction; the naturally occurring feature strangely matching his exterior. if he wasn’t a murderer.

once the ropes fell loose, you could barely resort back to mobility. it felt unnatural to finally be able to stretch after so long.

but now that you were somewhat free, you finally realized how filthy you were.

“i’ve got some cleaning up to do…there’s a bathroom for you to use over there. freshen up and then i can take you upstairs to the kitchen.” he pointed with his head over to the ivory bathroom, which seemed to be the only clean spot in the basement.

he had the decency to help you to your feet, watching as you struggled to gain equilibrium. you looked away into the direction of the bathroom, indicating you could help yourself now.

you didn’t bother glancing over to the workbench, figuring he was smart enough to put away his tools and weapons. you didn’t have the energy to defend yourself anyways.

the bathroom wasn’t far enough away to miss the smell of a festered corpse but you hoped by the time you showered, it would all be a bit better.

to your surprise, the bathroom was fully stocked: unopened toiletries, feminine products, shampoo, body wash, lotions, towels, everything you needed to feel alive again.

laying in the sink was an oversized t-shirt, sweatpants and socks, all in a vacuum sealed bag, which you assumed to be jeno’s. or maybe they belonged to a former victim. it didn’t matter as long as they were clean. anything was better than the battered clothes you had on now.

you closed the door and began to undress, keeping your body towards the door incase jeno barged in to take advantage of your naked form. though you doubted anyone would want to see the current state you were in.

raising your legs to get inside the fiberglass shower proved to be a challenge, even bending down to adjust the temperature of the water made your knees buckle.

but you eventually managed to rid yourself of the dried blood and sweat; water droplets masking your tears as you watched the black clumps flow down into the drain.

—

jeno was waiting for you outside the door, leaning against the wall that was now free of plastic sheets.

everything was spotless, or at least that’s what you could discern through your hooded eyes. the floor was free of biomass, all of the tarp was discarded, and the suitcase was nowhere to be found. most of all, the horrid odor was gone.

jeno eyed you up and down, satisfied with the floral smell coming from the lotion he bought you. he was always a fan of rose, and he hoped you were too.

he reached out his left hand for you to take, but you rejected the gesture, instead hugging your sides and looking down at your feet.

you could get up the stairs just fine.

or so you thought.

just as your feet made contact with the first step, you tugged on jeno’s shirt for support as he led the way.

you managed to miss the faint smile that painted his face, as you were too busy trying not to lose balance.

once you made it upstairs, you took in the interior. natural white oak floors, a spacious living room fitted with potted plants, a curtained patio sliding door, a small tv, with a gaming console placed just underneath in the stand, a glass coffee table, and a single white boucle couch that was surprisingly free of any suspicious stains.

the same could be said for the kitchen, shiny quartz countertops, and all steel appliances. you began to doubt if he afforded all of this on his own, but then you thought back to his extensive basement. maybe his career supported all of his dangerous endeavors.

your stomach instantely growled upon sitting at the kitchen bar. so loud that jeno managed to hear it as he began rummaging through the drawers for cooking utensils.

“i guess i should tell you the reason that you’re here.” jeno huffed as he began chopping up the raw food onto a cutting board. your heart dropped at his words; you weren’t sure if you could handle learning the reason right now.

“i’ve been watching you for quite a while now…i just knew from the very first time, that i had to prove my worth. prove that i could be everything you needed.”

you knew you weren’t mentally ready to play along with his insanity, nor try to earn his trust so soon. with his level of denial, your strategy needed time.

all you could do was be a listener and soak in his confession.

“i know i’ve done irreversible damage to you, so i don’t expect forgiveness. but at least let me give you the support you deserve to heal.”

you chose not to reply, it was best that way.

maybe through the silence, he would come to his senses.

as he continued to cook, you tried to look closely for any hints of him lacing the food. you weren’t afraid to deny sustenance in exchange for starvation.

but when you realized he was making a plate for himself, you felt less suspicious.

jeno arranged the food to look delectable, and placed everything neatly on trays, paired with a glass of water. he stood across the kitchen bar, eagerly awaiting your review before he took his first bite.

you picked at the rice with your fork, and tried your best not to tremble when you brought it up to your mouth and swallowed a few grains. he frowned when he noticed you trying to hold back tears.

what was so sad about a plate of food?

“i didn’t do anything to it.” he said sympathetically, but you let the tears fall anyway.

having a meal with the man that kidnapped you wasn’t anything to be delighted about. nonetheless, you grabbed more and more, slowly beginning to feel replenished.

jeno ate with you in silence, every once in a while watching the tears fall onto your plate.

you were sure that the lack of food for two days straight was the reason for the onset of nausea that creeped inside your body. the food didn’t taste bad, far from it. but the more you ate, the more you felt like you couldn’t keep it down.

a couple of spoonfuls remained, and once you set down your fork, you eyed the couch behind you in the living room.

laying on a soft surface for once, sounded the most appealing.

“can you help me to the couch?”

you knew he wouldn’t turn down your request. anything you could do to earn his trust, the better.

jeno was quick to assist, first, gathering the plates and placing them in the sink.

“i’ll put the leftovers in the fridge, just let me know when you want some more.” he said as he walked briskly to your position on the bar stool.

you didn’t dare move.

his soft hands grabbed both of your own, clasping somewhat too hard to get you to your feet. you faced him eye to eye, waiting for him to guide you.

but there was no motion from either of you; his chest mere centimeters from your own. his irises were such an uncomfortable black, soulless.

you couldn’t look away.

sweat formed in your hands, which you were sure that he could feel. yet, he didn’t let go. a sniffle from your runny nose seemed to have snapped him out of his reverie.

with no further time to waste, he helped you towards the living room, keeping hold of your clammy hands as you sunk down into the soft material. you winced as you swung your legs around to lay flat but immediately exhaled in relief at the plush cushions hugging your entire backside.

jeno brought your glass of water to the coffee table, and scooted the tv remote closer.

just the mere sight of the remote made you wonder if turning on the news right now would show hundreds of stories on you and your boyfriend's disappearance. or any leads on the suspect.

your family, your goals, your passions, all ripped away by someone that “cared” about you.

why couldn’t you bring yourself to scream at the top of your lungs to fill the void?

the desperate need for rest overpowered everything else. this was the most comfortable you had ever felt in a while.

you closed your eyes, drifting off into a deep sleep to the sound of running water from the kitchen sink.

—

you missed the answer to your question just half an hour later. it was motivation.

had you heard the sound of heavy knocks echoing off of the front door. you would’ve made your presence known, whether or not it was the police.

a youthful male voice yelled on the other side.

“jenooo! open up buddy!”

then a different voice spoke,

“dude! we know you’re in there!”

jeno froze from drying the dishes, only his eyes looking in the direction of the door.

it was mark and jaemin.

he thought he made it very clear, for them to never show up to his house unannounced.

ever since he began seeking you out, he made sure to send a text to them stating that “he’d been going through a rough time, that it was best to have as much privacy as possible. and to always shoot a text or a call before coming over.”

guess they didn’t want to respect his wish.

he carefully sat down the ceramic bowl on the counter and bolted towards your sleeping body.

he didn’t even need to spike your drink, it was obvious you were going to pass out from sleep deprivation and mental exhaustion.

jeno knitted his brow in disappointment. you looked so perfect like this, ready and willing to take what he could give. and now his friends had to ruin it.

sadly, he didn’t have time to be gentle.

your eyes immediately shot open at the feeling of him gripping your waist with one hand, and covering your mouth with the other.

“don’t fucking say a word.”

he snarled in your ear, spit accidentally hitting your lobe from how hard he spoke. he wrapped his veiny arm around your hips, forcing you away from the couch.

you had more energy than he thought, preventing him from getting a good enough grip to hoist you over his shoulders. you kicked at the coffee table, managing to knock over the glass of water onto the hardwood floor. he saw you turn your head towards the direction of the door from the sound of a few more knocks, those probably being the first you heard ever since they arrived.

he suffered through the discomfort of you gnawing at his fingers as he dragged you back towards the basement.

your measly struggle only allowed a single muffled scream to bounce against the crevices of his hands.

as he kicked the door open to the basement, he switched positions, this time dragging you down by a simple chokehold, causing your body to slump from the lack of circulation.

your heels knocked against each step, no longer having the adrenaline to fight back. he hurriedly grabbed the duct tape on the workbench, knowing he wouldn’t have enough time to do a thorough restraint.

it pained him to toss you onto the hard floor, just when you were beginning to find solace in his home. but he continued to tape your mouth, and your wrists, ripping the strips with his teeth.

he added plenty to your mouth, knowing you were smart enough to try and lick the adhesive.

you were disoriented enough from your elbows and knees striking the concrete, that he was able to sprint back upstairs, locking you inside.

there wasn’t as much of a mess when he returned, just a glass of water shattered into pieces on the floor. he ignored it for now, already coming up with an excuse for the slight disarray.

he wiped his hands free of your saliva before opening the door.

of course the two were excited to see him.

“took you long enough!” jaemin exclaimed before reaching in for a hug. jeno didn’t return the embrace, choosing to remain cold and statuesque.

the two friends could sense the tension, coming to their defense immediately.

“now before you get pissed, we sent you hella text messages and you never responded.” jaemin stepped back, raising up the palms of his hands.

“yeah and we were beginning to worry. is it okay if we come in and talk? just thought it would be nice to check on you.” mark followed suit with his concern, hoping jeno would permit them entry.

secretly, jeno was squeezing his side of the door handle to death, and internally, his blood was boiling.

he had an entire human being probably thrashing around in his basement, and two unmarked graves of his ex and your ex in his backyard.

now wasn’t the time.

but they were already here, and telling them to leave wouldn’t be easy.

“fine. but you can’t stay long. i have to go grocery shopping here soon.”

a complete lie.

jeno stood aside to let them enter, remembering to bring up the broken glass on the living room floor as they took off their shoes.

“be careful, i dropped a glass of water earlier. let me sweep it up first.” jeno made sure they stopped in their tracks before walking over to his coat closet to grab the broom and dustpan.

he swept up the crystal shards in seconds, mentally praying that they would want to do something other than just talk in silence,

something to drown out the potential noises you would make from downstairs.

—

unbeknowest to you, jeno was trying his hardest to appear unbothered as the three took turns playing Street Fighter.

he kept losing, which seemed unlike him. and not once yelling at the screen was unlike him too. mark and jaemin noticed his lack of excitement, but couldn’t brush it off any longer.

“you sure you’re okay?” mark looked over at jeno once the match ended.

“yeah i’m fine.”

“we can stop playing if you want. i get you’re not always in the mood.”

“no it’s fine. i need the distraction…”

jeno looked down at his controller, finding that to be the better option than locking eyes with either of them.

“is work kicking your ass? maybe you need a vacation…have some time away from all the bullshit.”

jaemin did have a point, but you were more important. vacation could wait.

—

had you finally been rescued? had the police finally traced him?

the lack of commotion from the rest of the house left you feeling hopeless. maybe the detectives were doing a welfare check, which wouldn’t account for much noise. jeno didn’t seem like the type to attack law enforcement nor turn himself in.

he’d only had you all to himself for a day now, you doubted he would give himself up so soon.

you managed to stand to your feet, thankful for the rush that prevented him from taping your ankles together.

you tried searching his workbench for any signs of a sharp object that could cut your wrists free. of course he locked everything away, and there didn’t seem to be a secret compartment.

you then ran up the stairs and placed your ear against the door.

all you could hear were two faint voices other than jeno’s. but they weren’t loud enough to discern their position in the world. either way, you had to make your presence known.

the length from the door to the stairs was non-existent, which meant you couldn’t get a head start to ram your shoulders into the steel material.

the least you could do was kick and shove it, just enough to indicate a disturbance.

you did all the above; sure to make his visitors look in the direction of the basement.

you were beginning to get overzealous in your attempts. you just knew you were going to be saved now.

just as you stepped back to increase what momentum you had, you felt gravity pull you down towards the trenches.

without any assistance from your hands to break your fall, your entire body tumbled down the staircase.

the uneasy sound of a pop rang under your skin, traveling all the way from your ankle.

as soon as your twisted body settled at the bottom of the staircase, you instantly knew.

he was definitely going to dispose of you now.

—

jeno thought he could never truly be mad at you. but when you decided to cause a scene downstairs, he knew a punishment was in order.

luckily, mark received a call from his girlfriend saying she needed help installing a new router in her apartment, and since jaemin rode together with him, they had to leave.

your pandemonium just began as the two put on their shoes and said their goodbyes, making sure to stress to him that if he ever needed to “rant or vent”, to give them a call.

his demeanor was like a switch as soon as he shut the door, his eyes darting over to the now silent basement, jaw clenched so hard that he could’ve tore a muscle.

maybe you realized your fate, he thought as he power walked over to the door.

the scene in front of him was far from what he could have ever guessed: you were sprawled on your back, laying in a pool of your own tears. as soon as he caught sight of your injury, he put two and two together.

you fell and sprained your ankle.

a faint sigh left his lips, and he rubbed his eyes as if to erase the mess you were now in.

your sobs grew louder as jeno made his way down the steps, hoping he would gain a conscious by the time he made it down.

to your surprise, jeno didn’t pull out a knife, neither did he wrap his hands around your neck and give it a fateful squeeze.

he bent down, carefully gathering your crippled legs together. with one brief exhale, he brought one arm around the back of your neck and the other under your bundled knees. he rose up effortlessly, without any need to readjust his footing.

you winced into his chest at the feeling of your ligaments pulling apart even further from hanging in the air.

but the pain seemed to have subsided for a split second as you looked up at the man carrying you bridal style up the stairs.

blemishless skin, pink lips, long eyelashes—

you interrupted your outlandish thoughts, choosing not to label him as outwardly flawless. you could burn in hell if you ever admitted so.

—

your foot had completely mutated, like you had swapped body parts with an alien.

somehow you were alive, and that’s all that mattered.

jeno took the time to carry you to his bedroom and place you on his king- sized bed. you didn’t even need to ask for help as he swung your legs onto the semi-firm mattress.

his entire room sported a similar Scandinavian design like the rest of his house, with more plants hanging from his bedroom window.

“my foot looks disgusting…” you thought you whispered low enough under your breath, but jeno managed a chuckle as he started gathering extra pillows from his closet to elevate your swollen ankle.

it sounded foreign, but oddly comforting.

“well, you managed a pretty decent tear. just be grateful it wasn’t your achilles, or i would’ve had to take you to the doctor…”

“how long do you think?”

“mmhm, three to four weeks. as long as you don’t put unnecessary pressure, it should be pretty painless. i have some ice packs in the freezer but i need to go digging for some pain pills. do you need anything else before i go get them?”

“a glass of water and blankets please.”

“of course.” he nodded at each request, making a mental checklist and walking off in the direction of the coat closet to gather the blankets.

you scooted back in the bed, letting the headboard support you while you sat in an upright position.

it didn’t take long for him to come back with a handful of all the things you needed.

a glass of water and ibuprofen lay on the adjacent nightstand, two pillows were placed underneath your ankles, three assorted blankets were folded neatly at the foot of the bed, two ice packs were wrapped in microfiber towels, and the fully stocked bathroom was just a few steps down the hallway to the right.

you already had a brief discussion with him on needing assistance to go to the bathroom, though it left you feeling rather uncomfortable. then you thought back to him buying feminine products—maybe it was less awkward than you thought.

as the evening progressed, jeno remained by your side, scrolling through his phone on the other half of the bed. he didn’t speak much, only checking every once in a while to see if you needed to pee, too much in fact.

he quickly realized your slight annoyance from his fifth time asking, deciding to keep quiet for the rest of the night.

you finally managed to rest with your eyes closed once the ibuprofen took away some of the discomfort, and within minutes, you drifted off.

—

3 Weeks Later

—

your recovery was painless just like jeno predicted. within a week, the swelling and bruising went down.

in the second week, you were able to walk to the kitchen to heat up your own food in the microwave.

considering jeno worked from home and couldn’t leave his office space that often, you tried your best to be self-sufficient.

through it all, he continued to cook and clean, creating somewhat of a new domestic lifestyle that you never thought was possible.

once he finished work at 6pm, he would come out of his office and into his bedroom where you spent your time reading. he would always refill your glass of water and lift the ice pack to take a peek at your ankle.

you never admitted to him that you missed interpersonal relationships or profound conversation, but there was something deep within you that thought maybe he could see it in your face everytime he brought you a snack from the pantry without saying a word.

in all honesty, you were afraid to bring up anything from his past. it wasn’t like the two of you were together and you had no idea he was a murderer.

he showed his true colors from the very beginning.

every night he slept on the far half of the bed, always starting off on his back, with one hand behind his head. once he hit deep sleep, he shuffled quite a bit until he found comfort being on his side, sometimes facing you, sometimes not.

you never awoke to snoring or his body making contact with yours. most nights you would wake from a nightmare, though you did a decent job at hiding it. some nights you couldn’t handle the agony that plagued your mind, laying there crying for hours.

just when you thought jeno couldn’t hear your sublte cries, he did. but what could he do to make it better?

in the final week, jeno did some makeshift physical therapy with you, testing your range of motion while you sat on the edge of the bed.

he seemed to be in deep concentration, even making sure the room was silent so he could listen for any popping sounds that would’ve indicated more recovery time.

“i don’t know if it’s just me, but i don’t look as stiff anymore.” you said as you watched jeno gently rotate your ankle clockwise, then counterclockwise.

“you certaintly don’t feel stiff. i think we’ve done everything right so far.” jeno smiled, quite impressed with how well his methods turned out for you. he let your foot come back softly against the bed before standing up.

your breath hitched when he positioned himself in between your legs, staring down into your glossy eyes.

jeno pondered on the thought of bringing up your sleepless nights. but he didn’t know of a correct way, or if there was one at all. the only thing he could do was make sure you had access to one pain pill at a time, for if the day came that you left him, he would leave the earth too.

you had “been with him” for almost a month now, and you managed to last longer than he thought.

he admired you for that.

“will i ever know who you are?”

your voice gave out, dwindling into thin air. jeno watched as you dropped your head to conceal what dignity you had left.

he used a single finger to prop you back up, ultimately deciding if an embrace would make it better.

there’s no way it could.

—

Day 32

—

this was the worst nightmare you’ve had yet.

the scene was too vivid, too real to let go of.

reliving the day your boyfriend died ate away at your soul and spit out what sanity you had left.

each time he died, the more he spoke to you, as if he wasn’t dead.

“you see that i’m quite dead. how awful.”

though his neck had just been slit, he laid there…staring at you…speaking so monotone, so robotic.

“why do you make me experience this over and over again? wake up. wake up. wake up.” he repeated to you.

your blood-curdling screams filled the bedroom; yet another sleepless night for not only you, but jeno too.

it was only recently that you began thrashing around the bed and filling the silent room with your grief-stricken cries.

there was no trying to hide it now…the pain became too much.

jeno immediately rose out of bed, enveloping your shaken body in a full embrace, the first time that he’d ever done so.

you continued to wail as if he wasn’t there.

“where is he-i need to see him! where did you put him?!”

you continued to repeat your demands, rocking back and forth in his arms.

jeno knew what you meant, but he was sure you truly didn’t need to know. if you were this broken down from the nightmares, there was no way learning the truth could make it all better.

jeno knitted his brow as you continued to shuffle within his broad frame.

he would never admit this to you, but these past few weeks have been miserable.

he was beginning to lose hope.

spraining your ankle was probably the best thing that could’ve happened; as bizarre as that sounded.

the two of you spent so much time together, and even though jeno could tell you wanted to know more about him, there just wasn’t a right time. not yet.

his past and how he came to be was best left unsaid. not until you seemed “better”, as the heavy load of his own trauma would’ve only made it worse for you.

and now here you were, still not “better.”

within the time that you began to gain control of your breathing, jeno contemplated his decision.

he let go of your body, rubbing his eyes to adjust better to the dark room.

you watched closely as he made his way around to you and held out his hand.

for the first time, you took it.

it was if you were still dreaming, but no longer fighting your night terror.

he guided you towards the living room patio door, walking slowly enough in regards to your recently healed ankle.

you seemed to have forgotten that the backyard existed, as you were so used to being in your own purgatory. nonetheless, you were eager to see the outdoors again, yet still unsure why he was taking you there.

jeno used his non-occupied hand to push the curtains away before unlocking the sliding door, still keeping his other hand interlocked with yours.

a slight breeze hit your face as the two of you stepped onto the patio.

even in the early morning, the moon still illuminated bright against the deciduous trees swaying in the wind. petrichor emanated from the dampened grass, soothing away your stresses immediately.

being outside for even just a second made up for all the lost time you spent in captivity.

maybe this is why jeno brought you here, to finally let you experience the beauty of the outdoors again; to take your mind off the troubles of your nightmares.

you remained behind him, peaking over his shoulder to admire the forgotten land you once accustomed yourself to.

still no words were spoken as he lead the way into the yard. you continued to hold his hand, finding comfort in the creases of his palms.

he came to a stop in the middle, and appeared to have been looking down at something. you furrowed your brow as he let go of your hand, already missing the contact that kept you down to earth.

once you stepped aside to be shoulder to shoulder, you immediately realized what this was.

your wish had been granted.

in front of you were two raised patches of dirt, one seemed to have settled more than the other. it appeared that grass had been planted, in an attempt to speed up the rate of growth on the disturbed level of soil.

your world shattered—crashing into the depths of pure misery and sorrow.

you fell to your knees, the softened mud painting your pajama pants deep brown.

all the tears you could’ve cried remained back inside the house. this time, your chest felt tight, constricting any sign of emotion.

jeno remained blank, gearing up for the words that would change your life forever.

he bent down to your level, knees settling into the mud, eyes glossed over.

he waited for you to look up from the two graves, almost considering if he should do this.

you met his eyes, just as dark as the sky.

“this will probably be the last time you ever see him.”

to you, his voice barely sounded human, morphed into the monster he truly was.

you felt a surge of fight or flight—a passion to fight for your survival.

it all became a blur as you lunged forward, grabbing both sides of his chiseled face and connecting your lips to his.

you couldn’t bear to keep your eyes open as you kissed him. for you knew that this way of self-preservation would haunt you if you made it out alive.

giving him what he wanted all this time, seemed to be the only logical way.

jeno welcomed your lips without falter, as if this was the answer.

his lips were soft, mending against your own like silk.

your hands remained attached to his jawline, as he trailed down to grip your waist.

he squeezed you just right, not too hard like he’d done in the past.

you wanted him to take control, to show that he could do whatever he wanted. the whimpers that escaped your lips, told him so.

the kiss never broke, as you both rose and stood under the pale moonlight. his hands traced down further, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. he cupped the underside of your thighs within a single catch of your breath, to which you exhaled and whined, so gingerly.

he took your subtle detachment as an opportunity to connect your tongues, the feeling of warmth completely searing your insides.

you were too dazed to match the way his tongue explored your mouth, but the messiness ignited infatuation for how unique he tasted.

still, it could never be too much, not even the way your conjoined saliva dripped onto your tear-stained shirt.

there was no limit for how willing you were to submit.

he swallowed the whimpers that fell from your mouth, trying his hardest not to tug on your lips too harshly.

his hands pressed upwards on the back of your thighs, signaling that he craved more.

he clutched onto your ass as you jumped and wrapped your legs around his waist.

you could feel the growth in his sweatpants increase the moment your breasts made contact with his clothed chest, nipples almost meeting together in the same distance across.

you were both harmonious in your attempts to get back inside the house; just the simple action of raking your fingers through his raven locks, encouraged him to move quickly.

he managed to walk through the yard with ease, taking only a brief moment to peek behind you to ensure he didn’t trip over the entrance from the patio.

during his journey to the bedroom, you buried your face into his neck, peckering on the veins that branched out into beautiful streams of blue.

your tongue found his racing pulse just as he kneed the door open to the room.

he laid you down on the edge of the bed, choosing to return the favor and kiss along your neck.

your hands couldn’t decide on a spot to grab, so you kept them tangled in his hair.

you had to be as convincing as possible that you craved this too, but it didn’t seem that hard to do when he caressed you in all the right places.

“i’ve waited so long for this, for you…”

his voice had gone even deeper, vibrating against your collarbone as he kissed there.

he continued further, meeting your chest that so desperately needed to be exposed. his teeth tugged on your hardened nipples through your cotton shirt, earning yet another whimper that bounced off the painted walls of the bedroom.

he was dependent on your noises of pleasure, desperate to hear every sound that told him he was doing well.

just as you blinked, he lifted your shirt, with not enough patience to take it the rest of the way off. his mouth latched onto your sensitive nipple, soothing the sting with his tongue every time he nipped it between his teeth.

he gave the same amount of attention to the other, swirling his wet muscle along every inch of your breasts. deep down, you wanted him to inch further towards where he deserved to be.

but you felt so sinful for thinking so.

he continued his descent, kissing along the flesh of your tummy and down to your pelvis. his eyes remained closed while doing so, as if he was already familiar with every feature of your lower body. you hadn’t even realized that he tugged your pajama pants off, discarding them somewhere on the floor.

you couldn’t bring yourself to focus on him, though you knew he had a look of pure bliss; excited to finally take what was his.

you jumped at the feeling of his nose resting on your clit, even rubbing it back and forth, painfully slow. he inhaled deeply, taking in your scent that was bound to get stronger once he took off your panties.

your entire body jolted from his tongue tapping your sensitive nub, causing all of your blood to rush to that spot. he poked at a faster pace, but it wasn’t enough to satisfy the ache in your core, nor nullify the guilt you felt from actually enjoying it.

he was teasing, obviously wanting to savor every moment that had no guarantee of happening again.

“all mine…” he purposefully whispered close to your clothed heat, the spurts of air hitting your dampened panties with every unhinged word he spoke.

you wiggled your bottom half, coaxing him into giving the attention you so desperately needed.

he was receptive to your attempts, immediately hooking his hands under the seam of your panties and pulling them off in one fell swoop. you kept your arms close to your upper body as a way to console yourself for how far you let this go.

he pried your legs open wide, pushing them back so they were bent at the knee. his hands rested on top, pausing to inhale your scent once more.

you kept the view below hidden with your arms, as the sight would be too much to take in. the mere feeling of him licking a single strip with his flattened tongue, from your puckered hole all the way up to your engorged clit forced a complete sigh of relief out of your body.

you covered your mouth with your hands as a result, conflicted on whether or not you should hold it in anymore.

judging by the pause, jeno wasn’t pleased with your concealment.

“don’t fucking cover your mouth.”

he spoke right into your pussy, eyes trained on your next move. you obeyed him that easily, placing your arms down at your sides to grip the sheets.

as soon as you looked down, you were met with a sight that would ultimately defy all virtue left in your sickened world.

jeno’s eyes were locked onto you, lapping at your slick with such determination to make you cum from his mouth alone.

his hands had moved from your legs to your thighs, making sure to keep you static through it all.

he did everything right—sucking on your clit, dragging it lightly between his teeth, covering every inch of your folds with his spit.

each time he propelled his saliva onto your wet cunt, you couldn’t help but try to close your thighs around his head; all purity soiled by the way he defiled your pussy.

you knew it would only get filthier from here.

he snaked his left hand down, the pads of his thumb coming to rest on your pulsating bundle of nerves. his other hand formed a union between his fore and middle finger, making a way to your entrance.

it was evident through your prolonged captivity that jeno would feel resistance as he eased his two fingers inside. he wasn’t as slow as you hoped, but if it was for the sake of prepping, you would take what warnings he gave you.

all three of his methods worked in reducing the pressure in your pelvic floor, but you still felt as though you could never truly be ready for his cock, mentally or physically.

“you can barely take my fingers, fuck…”

he took the chance to curve his fingers inside you, creating friction as he scraped against your spot effortlessly.

your entire world was spinning, and it was just the beginning.

he was steady as he fucked you with his fingers, never once loosing sight of how ruined you were.

the squelching from your walls suffocating his digits caused his sweatpants to feel uncomfortably tight.

he couldn’t wait to stretch you full.

the denial you onced claimed, began to wash away as you felt your orgasm approaching.

his pace increased, creating a rhythm that was bound to make you crash.

“i-i cant! please!”

jeno ignored your cries, utterly content with forcing it out of you whether or not you wanted him to stop.

you grabbed a fistful of his hair again, resting your fingers in his scalp as your whole body convulsed.

constellations flooded your vision, blinding you from the reality of your guilt. you couldn’t help but grind into his face, prolonging the peak of your climax.

all but his mouth left your pussy, his hands ushering your lower body even closer.

he managed to stay latched onto your beating clit, as your body continued to spasm. he truly didn’t want to leave that spot, as he found himself completely drunk off of what you gifted him.

the amount of your juices that painted his mouth and chin, was proof.

you barely had enough core strength to lessen the impact of your legs falling against the bed as jeno rose to his feet.

he undressed himself within seconds, tossing the items of clothing inside the open closet.

all you could do was lay there and be a tool, trying your hardest not to react to the size of his cock.

there truly wasn’t anywhere he could fit, not even in your mouth if he wanted you there.

you managed to survive this far, but you were already second-guessing your chances the moment he positioned his naked body in front of you.

there was complete truth in how perfect he was—toned muscles, smooth complexion, and veins that branched out in every direction, most notably in his arms and hands.

he was the epitome of virility.

you were merely just a vessel for him to use and destroy.

“take off your shirt.”

he stroked his length, watching you fumble with the piece of clothing bunched around your neck.

as soon as you discarded it, he lifted both of your legs up, letting his shaft plop onto your wet mound. the sound was filthy, an indication of how wet you were.

he started to glide his length up and down your pussy, practically wet humping your slick as if you weren’t overstimulated from his oral assault only minutes prior. you involuntarily jerked at the contact of his tip rubbing your abused clit, watching as he dragged his bottom lip between his teeth at your undoing.

he finally let his grinding come to a halt; tip stopping right at your navel.

precum leaked inside the natural divet in your skin, forming a pool from his arousal.

“pl-please jeno…i need you.”

you no longer cared if it hurt, all that mattered was being at his complete disposal.

he listened to your desires, finally conjoining your bodies as one. the stretch was uncomfortable, burning even. but the satisfaction that followed, negated every ounce of hatred you used to feel.

you attempted to breathe through the discomfort, but all you could produce was a gasp as he eased his way further. even through the pain, you could see in his face that you were his entire world.

his mouth hung open, eyes rolling back for a second before gaining focus on your effort to accomodate his size. a line of saliva fell from his lips onto his shaft, making more of a mess than was thought possible.

you were severely uncoordinated from the intensity of your previous orgasm, but that didn’t stop you from pulling him in for a kiss as he bottomed out. you moaned into his mouth, slurping on his tongue to taste what remained of your essence.

he furrowed his brow when you clenched down as hard as his girth would allow, sucking him further inside your cervix.

he finally took it upon himself to move, feeling resistance as he geared up to piston inside you. his hands made their way from your thighs to your neck, gripping hard enough to make a vein visibly pulse against your temple. you placed your hands on top of his, hoping he wouldn’t take that as a sign to soften his hold on your throat.

this was everything you wanted. the exhilaration of being on the brink of death, a stark contrast to how he’s made you feel before. tingling littered under where his palms squeezed, causing you to writhe in pleasure as he drilled into your pussy.

no matter how hard he squeezed, you trusted that he wouldn’t end you. not when he was completely buried in your walls, growling in your ear at how well you took his cock.

“you’re so perfect, taking my dick so well…” his words sounded muddled from the ringing present in your ears, you weren’t even sure you comprehended them correctly through the high building up inside you a second time.

you managed to let a moan escape through the restriction as he pushed both of your bodies higher on the bed, having enough skill to remain inside you the entire time.

jeno noticed your eyelids begin to flutter, a sign that you were teetering on the edge. he relished in the sight—your body slumped against him, your vocal chords attempting to produce noise but ultimately failing.

you were officially cock drunk, inebriated by how well he fucked you dumb.

even through the haze, you could see him enjoying every second, tugging on his lips to suppress the animalistic sounds brewing deep within his chest.

he finally took his hands away, allowing your senses to restore from the lack of oxygen. your chest heaved profusely, causing your back to arch as if you were being exorcized.

his stamina was still just as unwavering, never once losing rhythm. just as you gained control of your breathing, he pushed your legs back towards your head, simultaneously being in awe of your flexibility.

the sound of skin slapping hit against your eardrums with each strike, and now that there was a surge of pressure being applied to your throat from this new position, you could barely vocalize how flawless he was at hitting your spot every, single, time.

you could feel his length twitching, veins swelling, and balls slapping against your ass with every thrust.

your stomach tightened from the pressure against your womb, forming a wave that you were bound to drown in.

“i know you’re close…cum on my cock…fuck.” he gulped in between, trying his hardest to hide the shakiness in his voice. he was just as close as you were, ready to explode at any moment.

all it took was for him to pause and grind into you slowly.

and with it, came a cathartic release.

a string of moans finally escaped through your restriction, forming a melody for jeno to absorb in his frenzied brain.

unhinged groans fell from his lips as he emptied his seed; silken fluid overflowing and mixing with your own.

you clenched around his dick even harder than before, milking him for everything he was worth.

he stilled inside you for a while, practically putting all of his body weight on you while you remained in that position.

the back of your thighs were sure to have bruises from how long he had kept his hands there. but you wouldn’t trade those marks for the world.

you shuddered as he exited you without warning, shifting to lay by your side. even through the silence, your thoughts were loud.

he came inside you, and it was obvious that the aftermath of the situation plagued his mind too.

—

you pretended to be asleep. though jeno was a different story, which all worked in your favor. as the morning progressed, he pulled your backside into his chest, one arm resting on your waist and the other under your neck. it was a surprise to you, considering he never touched you in his sleep.

the main complication you faced now was slipping out of his arms without waking him.

you were still backed up against his front when you lifted your head to view the time.

the nightstand clock read 7:32am.

if you didn’t act soon, you would be put underground, allowing someone else to take your place and experience the same horrors as you.

you wiggled yourself to test his stimuli, no response. so you did it again, nothing.

you carefully lifted his arm that was on your waist and began to scoot towards the side of the bed. he stirred once, but not enough to fully rouse him.

the time read 7:37pm when you finally stood to your feet.

you could’ve made your way to the kitchen, but cleaning up was definitely a priority.

you treaded lightly towards the bathroom, not even bothering to bring clothes. as you stepped inside, you were met with abhorration.

the person you saw in the mirror was barely recognizable, ravaged beyond repair. and no matter how hard you scrubbed your body, it still couldn’t wash away the bruises or the remnants of jeno that had been sitting inside you for the past two hours.

hopefully by the time you got back to him, you would finally be purged of his undying affliction.

the simple action of grabbing a knife from the kitchen wasn’t so simple in your regards.

your anxiety started to rise as you entered the kitchen. there, laying on the counter, in a stainless steel holder, were your means of redemption.

it didn’t matter what kind, just as long as it cut deep enough…

the one you grabbed happened to be a paring knife; ideal for your method of use.

your hands were sweaty, making it difficult to grip thoroughly. but you managed with two hands, all the way back towards the bedroom. before jeno could potentially see you through the doorway, you switched your hands, positioning the knife behind your back.

he was still sleeping, peacefully.

the clock read 7:59am. any minute now.

you walked around to where his back was facing you; his slow and steady breathing being a complete imbalance to your racing heart.

you maintained a good grip of the knife as you slipped under the disheveled sheets, attempting to straddle him and in turn wake him up for his departure.

at first, he grimaced, wondering why his sleep was being disturbed. but once his eyes fluttered open, he smiled, blissfully unaware of your deception.

he turned onto his back so you could straddle him properly, his body heat greeting you like the sun.

he lifted his hands and started to caress your thighs, creating goosebumps along your tender skin. he seemed to be focused on the bruising, expression filled with pride at how hard he claimed you.

you fought with every fiber of your being to hold back tears as you lowered yourself onto his chest.

you met his soft lips for the last time. sealing his fate with a kiss.

you exposed the knife in your right hand before sinking it into his side, the impedance of his tough flesh trying to stop you from sinking the blade in deep.

you kept your eyes closed through it all, but you could feel his mouth open in shock.

your tears finally broke, and just as you felt them separate from your chin, you opened your eyes.

and stabbed again.

and again.

you flinched each time, waiting for a piercing cry, but there was nothing. his mouth hung open in agony, trying to produce a scream, but there was nothing.

his skin had turned pale, eyes dilated and whirling out of control. soon came the blood, painting your hands, the sheets, and his tepid skin.

you buried your face into his neck, hoping to hear his pulse slowly drift away.

instead you were met with his last words,

“you made it…”

—

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