#c.fics

the door to the dream’s waiting room is half open. inside, the boys are scattered — collapsed on couches, riding that euphoric post-concert high. mark is the first to notice you.

“bro, no way,” he grins, already pushing himself up, “you actually came!” there’s something a little too pleased in his grin as he pulls you into a hug.

“of course i came,” you say, “you practically guilt tripped me.” mark just hums, innocent in a way that absolutely is not. voices overlap — greetings, teasing, someone offering you a water bottle. and then—

“noona.”

it’s quiet. not shouted. not playful. just…said.

you turn and there he is — jisung. standing near the back, towel draped low around his neck, chest still rising from exertion. his stage outfit clings in a way that feels unfair, like its asking a question you don’t have a safe answer for. his hair is pushed back, exposing his forehead, his eyes darker than you remember.

you blink, disoriented. when did that happen?

he smiles when he sees you, soft, familiar, but there’s something else underneath it. something sharper. more aware. his gaze drags, unhurried, like he’s memorizing you.

“did you—” he stops, breath hitching for just a second, “did you like the show?”

“you were incredible,” you say, forcing a smile on your face, hoping the boys couldn’t hear your racing heartbeat.

“don’t you know,” haechan’s voice pops up, smug, “our little jisungie here is all grown up,” he teases, patting the maknae on the back. his words hang in the air, earning a few chuckles from the others.

jisung shoots him a glare, a flush creeping up his neck that he tries to hide by rubbing the towel over his damp hair.

“yeahhh,” jaemin chimes in, lounging against the arm of the couch with a mischievous glint in his eye, “he’s far from the boy who admitted he had a crush on you during that one interview,” he continues, eyes sparkling, looking around the room, “do you guys remember that? jisungie was soooo cute then,” he teases in his baby voice.

the boys all glance at each other, all recalling that time a couple of years ago when they were all asked about their “ideal types.” somehow, they tricked their youngest into giving a proper answer meanwhile they were naming people like stephen curry and justin bieber.

chenle smirks from his spot on the chair, “oh! i remember, ‘y/n sunbaenim is really really pretty,’” he mimics in a high-pitched voice, drawing out the words with exaggerated innocence that has renjun snickering beside him.

renjun nods enthusiastically, scrolling through his phone but glancing up with a grin, “and don’t forget how quiet he got every time we ran into each other in music shows. mark hyung had to snap him out of it more times than i can count,” he shoots mark a playful look, who’s trying, and failing, to keep a straight face.

mark laughs lightly but knowing, “hey, cut the kid some slack. crushes hit hard at that age,” he gives jisung a firm pat on the shoulder, the gesture supportive but his eyes flick to you with a subtle wink that speaks volumes.

jisung groans, burying his face in the towel for a second before peeking out, his cheeks still warm, “hyungs, seriously? can we not do this right now?” his voice is half-protest, half laughter, but when his gaze meets yours, there’s a spark there — defiant, almost challenging, like he’s daring you to add on to the teasing.

to figure out what happens if you do.

jeno saves him then, already heading toward the door, “alright, i think they’re calling us…for that…thing…we should go,” he says. talk about mr. captain obvious.

the group starts to move, gathering jackets and water bottles amidst murmurs of agreement. jaemin stands, stretching with a lazy grin, “great seeing you again. don’t be a stranger,” he nods at you before clapping jisung on the way out.

renjun and chenle follow, the older of the two tossing a soft, “take care” over his shoulder.

mark lingers for a moment, squeezing your arm gently, “thanks for coming, it means a lot.” then he’s gone, the door clicking shut behind the last of them.

the room falls into a sudden, electric quiet, the distant hum of the backstage chaos muffled outside. you quip a brow, a smile growing on your face as you look at the boy who is now a couple feet taller than you.

“shouldn’t you go with them?”

“i’m sure they can manage a couple tiktoks without me,” he chuckles and you can’t help but notice how deep his voice actually is now.

“sorry about them,” he murmurs, a small smile tugging at his lips, “they never let anything go.”

you chuckle, stepping closer, proving to him yourself that you were not affected by his drastic glow up.

“sooo…you didn’t have a crush on me?,” you say, clearly teasing him as your eyes sparkled with mischief.

and god, he doesn’t know what annoys him more — that damn interview or the fact that you still look at him like he was a boy.

“noona,” he warns, a quiet heat in his voice.

you continue stepping towards him, refusing to back down, “i remember that interview,” you say, standing closer now, as you grabbed the towel hung around his neck, “and the boys were right…you were just the cutest thing in the world!”

you bring the towel up to his hair, ignoring the fact that you were on your tippy toes to reach him.

jisung’s breath hitches, his body going still under your touch as you ruffled the towel through his damp strands. his eyes never leave yours — dark, intense, pinning you in place, shifting the air.

he easily towers over you, the heat radiating from his skin mixing with the faint scent of his sweat and cologne, something woodsy and sharp that makes your pulse quicken despite yourself.

then he reached up, his hand wrapping around your wrist, holding you there, firm enough to feel the strength in his fingers.

“cute?” he echoes, his voice dropping lower, rougher. the word comes out laced with challenge, his thumb brushing the inside of your wrist in a slow, deliberate stroke that sends a jolt straight to you, “is that what you still think i am?”

you swallow, the playful tease in your chest twisting into something hotter, more urgent, as his grip tightens just a fraction. your fingers loosen on the towel, but you don’t step back, the proximity making your breasts brush against his chest with every shallow breath.

you want to reply, but it feels like the cat’s got your tongue, his stare pinning you in place, in a trance — all that’s left is the dark pools of his eyes, the faint sheen of sweat on his collarbone, the warmth of his touch on your wrist. words dissolve before they can escape, lost in the heat.

then he steps closer, impossibly close now, bringing his head down to your level, “noona,” his eyes flick down to your lips. once. twice. “you okay?”

he’s teasing you. his voice a low rumble that vibrates through you, laced with quiet heat. his breath fans across your skin, warm and minty, sending shivers down your spine.

you can’t help but let your eyes dart down to his lips – full, slightly parted, glistening pink. they curve into a knowing smirk, his face inching closer and closer, the space between you shrinking to nothing, lips brushing the barest whisper against his, hearts pounding in unison, the pull magnetic and inevitable.

and then—

the door bursts open and his manager strides in, phone in hand, oblivious at first, “jisung-ah, we need to—oh.” the words trail off as he takes in the scenes, eyes widening.

you two spring apart quickly, the sudden separation like ripping velcro, your cheeks burning as you smooth down your shirt and step back toward the makeup table.

jisung clears his throat, rubbing the back of his neck, his ears flushing red, “hyung, yeah—i’ll be right there,” he mutters, voice steadier than he looks, shooting you a quick, loaded glance, promise and frustration tangled in his gaze.

his manager heads out the door without another word, the sound of his footsteps fading down the hallway.

jisung turns his attention back you.

and in three quick steps…

one.

two.

three.

he’s in front of you again, closing the distance with a quiet determination that makes your breath catch. his hand rises gently to your jaw, fingers warm and steady against your skin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. those dark eyes hold yours for a beat, soft yet unwavering and before you could process what’s happening, he leans in and kisses you — sweetly, tenderly, hotly?

his lips brush yours with careful pressure that blooms into something deeper, mouth moving against yours in a slow, lingering exploration that tasted of cherry chapstick and a hint of mint.

you kiss back for only a fraction of a second, your body igniting under the sudden touch, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. but he pulls away just as abrupt, his hand lingering on your jaw for a moment longer before sliding away, leaving your lips tingling and swollen.

a small, genuine smile curve in the corners of his lips — adoration, satisfaction, confidence — like he’s finally won a round in this game.

but you can tell he’s shy from the way his ears flush bright pink, betraying the flutter beneath his composed exterior.

“thanks for coming to the show, noona,” he murmurs, voice low and sincere, his eyes still locked on yours with that quiet promise. then he’s gone, striding out the door without looking back, the click of it shutting echoing in the empty room.

you’re left there, bewildered, leaning against the makeup table for support as your heart races wildly in your chest, pounding like a drum. the ghost of his kiss lingers on your lips, hot and sweet, your pulse quickening with the certainty that this is far from over.

🎬

“—and he just kissed me,” you say, recalling the events of yesterday, your voice a mix of disbelief and lingering thrill.

you’re in the dance studio with xian, one of your group members, the mirrors reflecting your exhausted but energized forms as you ran through the brand new choreography for your upcoming group comeback. sweat beads on your forehead and your muscles ache from the intense practice, but your mind is elsewhere – replaying that backstage moment on a loop.

“WHAT?!” xian’s eyes widen like saucers, her ponytail swinging as she turned to face you, water bottle nearly slipping from her grip, “what do you mean he kissed you?!”

“i mean he put his lips on my lips and he kissed me,” you shrug, the words tumbling out.

“what the hell?! park jisung?? little jisungie who couldn’t even look you in the eyes last year?” she leans in closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, the rest of the group too busy chatting and stretching to pay attention.

“he’s not so little anymore…” you point out, still trying to comprehend it all — the memory of his large hand on your jaw, the way he tilted your head, fingertips on your pulse point — the kiss.

“he–he’s different now…he’s so….,” you trail off, biting your lip as you think of the right word to describe it.

“so….?” xian prompts, her eyebrows shooting up.

“hot?” you say finally, the voiced out admission slipping out with a flush creeping up your cheeks.

it’s true — jisung’s grown into a man. all lean muscle and quiet intensity. admitting it out loud makes your stomach flip, like butterflies turning into something hotter, more insistent

xian catches the shift in your expression and smirks, “isn’t their comeback next week too? we’ll probably be bumping into them all week,” she points out.

“and?” you shoot back, trying to sound casual even as your pulse quickens at the idea of seeing him again.

she arches a brow, her grin turning wicked, “and… what’re you gonna do about it? nothing? or are you gonna corner him in a hallway and show him who’s boss?”

the suggestion hits like a spark, igniting thoughts you hadn’t dared entertain. pretend it never happened? keep playing nonchalance? ghost him entirely and let the awkwardness fester? orrrr walk up to him, grab his collar, and steal back that kiss?

no. that’s insane. too risky. too real.

“no! of course not – are you out of your mind?” you blurt, heat rising to your face as you wave her off, “i’m just gonna let it slide. it’s probably nothing but that silly crush he’s had for ages…he needed to get it out of his system, that’s all.”

“sureee,” xian drawls, her tone dripping with skepticism as she bumps your shoulder playfully. you roll your eyes, but inside, doubt swirls like the beat of the next track starting up. the rest of the group calls you back to formation and you try to push all thoughts of jisung aside.

🎬

“fuck—,” you moan into his mouth, the word slipping out hot and desperate, earning a literal whine as his response, tongue moving in rhythm with yours, tasting you with a hunger that makes your head spin.

you were a huge. fat. liar.

doing “nothing” about it was completely thrown out the window the second you spotted him across the backstage halls. that tight black shirt molding to his lean torso like it was painted on, the subtle ripple of abs underneath pulling your gaze, the veins running down his arms. and god, those biceps — he had you hooked.

a double take became a triple until he caught you staring. his dark eyes met yours, sharp and heated, a faint flush creeping up his neck that only made him look more irresistible.

and now you were here — squeezed into this dim closet, tucked away from the bustle of the venue, shelves of old scripts and tangled cables pressing in. the door clicked shut and you were on him in an instant, your back hitting the wall as he crowds close, body pinning yours.

your fingers tangle in the nape of his neck, careful not to mess up his hair too much, tugging him down as you took back what he stole — kissing him hard, all teeth and tongue, swallowing his soft whimpers like they’re yours to claim.

“noona,” he breathes against your lips, voice cracking with need as his hands settle on your waist, pulling you closer, close enough so you could feel the outline in his pants.

“i—i’ve dreamt about this for so long. years. every time i saw you, i’d imagine…fuck, kissing you like this, touching you…please, please let me touch you,” his confession spills out in a rush, almost pathetic, his cheeks burning red even in the low light, ears flushed pink like the shy maknae he used to be.

the desperation, the begging, the wide eyes and flushed lips — it all just lights a fire in you. knowing he’s wanted you this badly, dreamed of you while you barely noticed, it fuels you.

you kiss him harder, savoring the way he melts into it, his mouth pliant and eager under yours.

“how about turning that dream into reality?” you murmur, nipping his bottom lip, your hand cupping his jaw to tilt his head just right, a smirk curling on your lips as you pull away for a second.

now — jisung was never religious. but in this moment, he looks like he’s just been handed the keys to his own personal heaven.

his eyes widen, breath hitching as he nods frantically, that boyish awe softening the edges of his hunger, “yes—please, please…i want to make you feel good,” he whispers, voice thick with reverence, like touching you is a privilege he’s been training his whole life for.

you guide his hand down, sliding it under the hem of your skirt, your thighs parting just enough to invite him in. his fingers brush your skin, tracing upward to the waistband of your tight safety shorts beneath.

he hesitates for a beat, eyes flicking up to yours in silent question. you nod, urging him on with a soft press of your hand over his. jisung slides his hand in until he reaches your panties, slipping beneath that lace too. his fingertips graze your slick folds, a soft gasp escaping you at the first contact. your tight shorts keeping his fingers closer, adding to the pressure.

you pull him back into the kiss, lips sealing over his to muffle the sound. he responds hungrily, tongue delving deep as his finger presses along your slit, the heat of his mouth mirroring the building warmth below. you rock against his hand instinctively, needing more, while the kiss turned sloppy and urgent, breaths mingling in hot pants between licks and sucks.

“like this?” he murmurs into your mouth, voice barely above a whisper as he pushes one finger inside your pussy with a careful thrust. the intrusion is slick and welcoming, your walls clenching around him as you nod against his lips.

“just like that, jisungie,” you breathe, the pet name slipping out soft and affectionate. his free hand cups your face, thumb stroking your cheek while his mouth claims yours again, the kiss deepening with every slide of his finger.

he groans quietly at the feel of you griping him, so wet and tight, “you feel so good, noona.” then he’s back, kissing you fercely, his finger fucking you deeper, curling to hit that spot that mkes your hips buck.

your body starts to respond more intensely, soft moans bubbling up from your throat, you feel yourself unraveling, turning pliant under his hand, knees weakening as the pleasure continued to build.

jisung notices it immediately — the way your breaths hitch sharper, your lips no longer catching up with his, your body melting against the wall, those quiet sounds escaping despite your efforts. it sparks something in him, confidence blooming in his eyes. his thrusts grow surer, fingers pressing deeper with purpose and he pulls back just enough to watch your face, drinking in every flicker of you losing control.

“oh god,” you gasp, the word barely out before another moan slips free, soft and needy. you have to bite down hard on your lower lip to stifle the next one, your head tipping back against the wall as your pussy clenches around his fingers.

god, the sight of you like this — putty in his hands, fighting to stay quiet — it was a dream come true.

but he’s greedy. and he wants to hear more, to coax every stifled sound from you in this cramped space where footsteps echo past the door every few seconds, voice murmuring in the hall.

he adds a second finger without asking, stretching you fuller, making your hips jerk as he pumps quicker, thumb circling your clit in firm, quick strokes. his mouth finds your neck instead, lips brushing against your skin, trailing kisses down the column of your throat, his ear attuned to the way your moans try to break free — muffled whimpers that vibrate against his tongue as he sucks lightly at your pulse point, nipping just enough to draw another gasp.

“jisung—ah,” you whisper-moan, the sound ragged and desperate, your hand fisting in his shirt, desperately trying to stay grounded as you bite your lip again, teeth sinking into trap the louder cry building in your chest.

people are right outside, the risk sharpening every sensation, but he doesn’t stop, encouraged by how you’re falling apart for him, your body trembling, walls fluttering tighter around his fingers.

“i love hearing you, noona,” he hums against your neck, voice low and round with his own arousal, fingers continuing to curl just right, driving you relentlessly toward the edge. another moan escapes, softer this time but no less intoxicating to him.

the coil snaps hard and fast — your pussy spasming around his fingers as you come undone, a choked cry muffled by your bitten lip, head thrown back, eyes shut in bliss, while waves of pleasure crash through you.

jisung holds you through it, his free hand gripping your hip to steady you as your legs threaten to give, his fingers still moving to draw out every pulse, his ears catching each stifled aftershock moan like a secret just for him, his eyes taking a mental screenshot.

“fuck, noona—that’s…that’s the hottest thing i’ve ever seen,” he swears, voice hoarse and reverent, meeting your dazed eyes. he keeps his fingers buried deep a moment longer before easing them out slowly, your pussy clenching one last time around the retreating digits, slick trailing in glistening strings.

without another word, jisung brings his hand up, eyes locked on yours with a mix of mischief and raw hunger — he slides his fingers into his mouth, tongue swirling deliberately to lick every drop of your cum clean, sucking them with soft, needy hum that vibrates through the air.

your eyes widen in surprise, heat flooding your cheeks at the bold move — filthy and uncharacteristically daring from the boy who’s still got that flush on his ears.

”what?” he murmurs around his fingers, popping them free, a shy grin tugging at his lips as he sees your reaction, “i had to clean them somehow.”

a laugh bubbles out of you, light and breathless, cutting through the tension. it’s infectious, easing the urgency into something warmer and you reach for the front of his shirt, fisiting the fabric to yank him close. your lips crash into his once again, tasting yourself faintly on his tongue as you kiss him deep and slow.

“when did you get so hot, huh, park jisung?” you whisper against his mouth, the words deliberate — no pet name, no jisungie, just his full name like he’s a man now, not the kid you’ve always teased.

and it pulls him completely under your spell. his breath stutters, eyes going wide and glassy, that confident facade cracking as he unravels right there, “i-i could…do more…if you want,” he stammers, hands clutching at your waist like he’s afraid you’ll vanish.

“yeah?” you tease softly, arching a brow as you smooth his shirt back down your thumb brushing his collarbone.

he nods quickly, frantically, the motion so eager it’s almost comical, his cheeks burning brighter. it’s cute. that boyish enthusiasm peeking through the heat, making your chest tighten with affection.

“i do…want that,” you affirm, voice dropping low and sure. the air between you crackles with promise.

“my place,” he blurts faster than you expect, the words tumbling out in a rush, ”come to mine tonight?”

you quirk a brow, smirking at the slip — half-invitation, half-demand.

“are you asking or are you telling me?”

he swallows hard, forcing that confidence back into place, jaw setting as he meets your gaze head-on, “i’m telling you, noona. come to mine tonight.”

a smile curve your lips, genuine and approving, “the right choice. text me your address,” you instruct, leaning in for one final kiss, soft, lingering, a seal on the deal.

then you slip away, cracking the door just enough to peek out before darting into the hallway, heart pounding like you’ve just run a marathon, the ache between your thighs a lingering thrill.

xian’s lounging against the wall nearby, scrolling on her phone, but her head snaps up the second you emerge. her eyes narrow playfully, scanning your flushed face and slightly mussed hair, before she flashes a knowing thumbs-up, lips twitching in a suppressed grin.

you mouth a quick “shut up,” playing it cool, smoothing your expression into casual nonchalance. she just chuckles silently, falling into step beside you as you both weave through the backstage chaos toward the stage entrance for the ending segment.

the mc’s voice booms over the speakers, calling out the nominated artists for the week. you stand shoulder to shoulder with your group members, lights blinding as the cameras pan slowly, capturing every polished smile and wave, the sea of lightsticks waving in synchronized frenzy below.

jisung is a few people away, flanked by his members, his posture straight and idol-perfect, that practiced smile plastered on as he waves to fans with the same hand that was inside you just minutes ago.

you catch it — the subtle flick of his eyes toward you, that idol smile turning into a smirk only you know the meaning of. a secret heat simmering beneath the professional facade.

the applause thunders on, spotlights dancing and to everyone who was watching — you two were nothing but perfect idols.

🎬

your heart races with a mix of nerves and mischief, the baggy floral pants swishing around your legs, paired with a crisp white long-sleeve and topped by a sensible vest that screams ahjumma. you’d gone all out. even adding a curly wig and a sturdy handbag dangling from your shoulder like you’re off to the market.

as idols, relationships are “off-limits.” you just have to be good enough to hide it. and this get-up ensures just that. no prying eyes from fans, no suspicious glances, no whispered rumors.

you ring the doorbell. footsteps hurry closer and it creaks open. jisung’s there in gray sweatpants hanging low on his hips and a black shirt that clings to his lean chest, fresh from a shower with damp hair.

his eyes widen, gaze sweeping over you, from the vest to the ridiculous colorful pants, and he bursts out laughing, bending at the waist as if you just told him the funniest joke ever.

“noona,” he wheezes, clutching his stomach, “i’m into older women…but not this old,” his face is flushed, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes as he straightens up just enough to let you inside.

you enter his place, kicking off your flats with a grin, the cool apartment air hitting your skin.

“what? is this not doing it for you?” you tease, adjusting the wig with exaggerated flair and striking a pose, hands on hips like a scolding elder, “not activating your ahjumma kink?”

that sets him off again, his laughter booming as he leans against his shut door, “oh my god, noona stop— it’s too much.”

you match his laugh, reaching up to yank the wig free in one swift motion, tossing it at him like a playful challenge. it lands in his hands, the curly mess dangling from his fingers as your real hair tumbles down, framing your face perfectly.

his chuckles die out instantly, the sound fading into a sharp intake of breath. the air thickens charged with something heavier and he pushes off the door, closing the distance between you in two strides. his free hand cups your cheek, thumb brushing your jaw as he stares, eyes dark and intense.

“i can’t believe you’re actually here,” he murmurs, voice low and rough, the words laced with awe and hunger.

your hand slides up his arm and you tilt your head to meet his gaze, “hmm and now that you got me here, what do you suppose we do?” the teasing edge lingers in your tone, soft, inviting, as you lean in to brush your lips against his.

he smirks against your lips, before pulling away slightly, “we could watch a movie?”

“that’s it?”

“and we could make out a little,” he says, his hand dropping from your jaw to your waist.

“just a little?”

“or a lot,” he says, pulling you closer, fingers flexing like he’s already forgotten his own suggestion about movies.

for a second, you think he’s going to abandon the idea entirely, his lips hovering just above yours, breath ghosting over your skin.

and then.

he pulls back. clearing his throat like he needs to reset his brain, “c’mon, let’s watch that movie.”

there’s no way.

there’s actually no way you’ve gone through all of this to watch a movie.

but before you can protest, he takes your hand and leads you deeper into his apartment. you toss your handbag on the floor, following him into his living room. the t.v. is already on as he unpauses it. bright snow. dramatic orchestral music. you stare at the screen.

“is this–”

“don’t judge me,” he says quickly, dropping onto the couch, “it’s a classic.”

anna and elsa appear mid-argument, voices echoing through the speakers.

there’s no way he was going to fuck you while frozen plays in the background…right?

you turn slowly to look at him. he’s already settled in, one arm stretched along the back of the couch, looking absurdly domestic. comfortable. like this was the plan all along. you slowly sit beside him, hyperaware of everything — the heat radiating from him, the faint scent of his shampoo, the way his fingers absentmindedly tap against the couch cushion near your shoulder.

on screen, anna is dramatically belting something about love. your heart is pounding for an entirely different reason. you sneak a glance at him. he’s watching intently. actually watching. eyes focused. brows slightly knit. fully invested in the animation.

you narrow your eyes.

what kind of sick foreplay is this?

you are so insanely turned on right now. the memory of his fingers curling inside you replaying in your mind. and he’s just sitting there. calm. composed. watching.

is he serious?!?

you shift slightly, letting your knee brush his thigh. nothing. he doesn’t even look at you.

“wow,” he mutters, softly at the screen, “that song is so good.”

you stare at him.

you lean back, pretending to get comfortable, but really you’re eyeing him from the corner of your eye. the curve of his jaw. the way his lips part when he concentrates. the faint rise and fall of his chest. he senses it. without turning his head, he smirks.

“you’re staring.”

“i’m not.”

“you are,” he says calmly, still looking at the tv, “you’ve been starting at me for the past 45 seconds.”

your face heats. he was counting?

his arm slides down from the back of the couch to rest behind you, fingers grazing your shoulder lightly. barely there. it’s subtle. too subtle. your pulse jumps anyway.

“you’re evil,” you whisper.

“for watching a movie?”

“for pretending you’re not aware of what you’re doing.”

on screen, anna dramatically falls into han’s arms.

jisung leans closer to you, his voice dropping just enough to make your stomach flip, “i’m very aware.” your breath catches.

“but,” he continues, “i also really like this part.”

you gape at him. he laughs softly, the sound low and teasing, before finally giving in just a little. his hand slides from your shoulder to your waist, thumb drawing lazy circles through the fabric of your shirt.

“i’ve waited years for this noona…i don’t want it to be over just yet,” he says quietly.

your eyes narrow, “are you implying that this is a one-time thing?”

he turns to look at you then.

finally.

“is it not? just noona granting her poor little dongsaeng’s pathetic wishes?”

the words hang between you, laced with that familiar mix of playfulness and something deeper, more vulnerable.

his eyes search yours, the t.v.’s glow casting flickering shadows across his face, making the moment feel even more intimate in the dim room.

you shift closer, “pathetic wishes?” you echo, voice low, eyebrows furrowed, “do you really think i would’ve gone through all that effort to be here if i didn’t want you?”

his hand at your waist tightens, pulling you flush against his side, “yeah?” he murmurs, his free hand capturing yours, bringing it to his lips for a soft kiss against your knuckles. it’s sweet, almost boyish, but the heat in his gaze tells you he's anything but innocent.

“then tell me, noona. what do you want this to be?” the air thickens, charged with the unspoken promise of more.

you lean in, your lips brushing his ear as you whisper, “not a one-time thing. not if you keep looking at me like that.”

his ears flush pink, that telltale sign of his shyness peeking through the confidence he's built, and it only makes you bolder. you nip at his earlobe, feeling him shiver, his arm wrapping fully around you now, hand splaying across your lower back.

the movie drones on — kristoff and anna's banter filling the speakers — but jisung can no longer pretend to care.

he turns his head, capturing your mouth in a kiss, slower, deep, his tongue sliding against yours with deliberate strokes. you melt into it, your body arching toward him. his hand ventures lower, slipping under the hem of your shirt to trace the skin of your stomach.

“fuck this movie,” you breathe against his lips when you break for air, the words spilling out rough and demanding.

no more teasing, no more waiting.

you swing a leg over his lap in one fluid motion, straddling him fully, your knees sinking into the couch cushions on either side of his hips. his hands instinctively grip your thighs, but you grab his chin, tilting his face up to meet your eyes.

“eyes on me, jisung. only me.”

he swallows hard, pupils blown wide, but he nods, gaze locked on yours as you crash your mouth back to his. the kiss is messy this time, urgent — teeth clashing, tongues tangling, your fingers threading through his hair to pull him closer.

he groans into it, the vibration rumbling through your chest, his hips bucking up slightly to press his hardness against your core through the layers of fabric. you rock against him once, twice, savoring the friction, but you want more. control surges through you, hot and heady, as you dominate the rhythm of the kiss, nipping his lower lip until he whimpers softly.

his hands roam up your sides, fumbling with the buttons of your vest in haste. he shrugs it off your shoulders, letting it slide to the floor with a soft thud. you break the kiss just long enough to yank your shirt over your head, tossing it aside, leaving you in the white lacy bra you'd chosen specifically for this — for him. the delicate fabric clings to your curves, sheer enough to tease the outline of your nipples, already pebbled from his earlier touches.

jisung's breath stutters, his eyes raking over you like he's memorizing every inch.

“god, you're beautiful,” he rasps, voice thick with awe, before his mouth descends.

he presses open-mouthed kisses along your neck, sucking lightly at the pulse point, making you gasp, then trails lower to your collarbone, licking and nipping the sensitive skin there.

his hand slide up fingers hooking into the bra's cups, tugging them down without unhooking the straps. the lace bunches under your breasts, exposing them fully to the cool air of the room — and to him.

he doesn't hesitate, leaning in to capture one nipple between his lips, sucking hard while his tongue flicks over the peak. you arch into it, a sharp moan escaping as pleasure shoots straight to your pussy, making you clench around nothing.

he switches sides, lavishing the other tit with the same attention — suck, swirl, graze with his teeth — drawing out your whines. your hands clutch his shoulders, nails digging in as you grind down against his clothed cock, feeling it throb insistently through his sweatpants, the heat of him searing against your damp panties.

the friction isn't enough, you need to feel him, all of him. your fingers dip into the waistband of his sweats, shoving them down just enough to free his length. you wrap your hand around his cock, squeezing the thick base, and your eyes widen at the size — bigger than you'd imagined, hot and heavy in your palm, veins pulsing under your grip.

he bucks into your touch with a choked groan, his mouth popping off your breast to bury his face in your neck, panting hot breaths against your skin.

“fuck,” he whimpers, hips jerking as you stroke him slowly, thumb swiping over the slick tip.

he thrusts up into your hand, desperate now, his control fraying under your command, “please,” he murmurs against your mouth, one hand sliding down to grip your ass, “—want you so bad. been dreaming of this.”

you quicken your strokes, twisting your wrist at the head, watching his face contort in ecstasy — eyes squeezed shut, lips parted on a silent moan.

but you tap his cheek lightly, reminding him, “eyes on me, remember?”

he forces them open, locking onto yours, the vulnerability there making your heart — and your pussy — clench.

“good boy,” you whisper, leaning in to suck a mark into his jaw.

the tension builds, his cock leaking pre-cum over your fingers, your body aching to take him inside, but you draw it out just a little longer, savoring the power, the way he trembles beneath you.

the outside world, the movie — none of it matters. just this, just him, unraveling under your touch.

jisung’s chest heaves as you continue to pump him up and down, his cock slick with pre-cum, fingers digging into your hips as he fights control. but the strain shows in the way his jaw clenches.

you lean down, capturing his mouth in another bruising kiss, swallowing his moans while you start grinding your soaked core against his thigh. his hands immediately slide to the waistband of your floral pants, tugging it down.

“off,” he mutters, voice rough and commanding, the shyness giving way to raw hunger. you lift your hips just enough for him to yank them down, the fabric pooling at your knees befre he shoves them aside completely.

his gaze drops to your panties — matching white lace, sheer and clinging to your folds, the material darkened with how wet you are. a low growl rumbles from his throat as he stares — you really did plan all this out, coming to him in a matching set.

he still couldn’t believe it.

“fuck, noona…you’re soaking for me,” his hands grip your thighs, spreading them wider over his lap, thumbs brushing the edge of the lace. the sight undoes him — his cock twitching in your hand and he surges up, mouth latching onto your neck again, sucking hard enough to leave a mark, “so hot. can’t believe you’re here like this, all for me.”

his fingers hook into the sides of your panties and with a frustrated snarl, he rips them – the threads snapping as he tears the fabric apart.

cool air hits your exposed pussy, your slick folds bare and dripping onto his sweatpants. you gasp at the suddennes, the possessivness of it sending a fresh wave of heat through you, your clit pulisng with want.

“jisung–c-condom,” you say through breathy moans. his eyes flick to the side table drawer without pulling away from you, leaning over awkwardly with one arm still banded around your waist to keep you close, yanking the drawer open and snatching a foil. you watch, breath hitching as he tears it with his teeth, the latex unrolling down his thick shaft in quick, efficient strokes.

“and here i thought we really were just gonna watch frozen,” you tease, an amused smile on your lips.

jisung chuckles darkly, tossing the wrapper aside, “yeah, fuck that. i should’ve fucked you the moment you walked in the door,” he positions himself, dragging his head through your dripping slit, bumping your swollen clit, earning a light moan from you.

“bad jisung, making noona wait,” you retort, reaching down to line him at your entrance.

you don’t hesitate, sinking down slowly onto him. the stretch is immediate, intense — his cock splitting you open, walls stretching to accommodate every inch as you take him deeper.

“fuck, jisung–you’re so big,” you moan, the words spilling out as you bottomed out, your ass flush against his thighs, the fullness making your vision blur.

he groans, head falling back against the couch, hands clamping onto your waist like anchors. you start to move, rolling your hips in a slow grind at first, savoring the way he fills you completely, the drag of him against your walls sending sparks up your spine.

the movie is white noise now, drowned out by the wet sounds of your bodies connecting, your slick coating the latex as you ride him.

jisung’s eyes stay glued to where you’re joined, watching his length disappear into you over and over, his breaths coming in ragged pants. he thrusts up to meet you, the force jolting through you, but you set the pace, hands braced on his chest, nails digging into the firm muscle there.

sweat beads on his skin, his shirt clinging and you lean forward, capturing his lips in a messy kiss as you bounce harder. your clit grinds against his pelvis with each slide, pleasure coiling tight in your core, but the angle tires your thighs after a few minutes, your movements slowing just a fraction. he notices it immediately.

“i got you, noona,” he murmurs against your mouth, voice husky and laced with lust, “gonna make you feel good.”

he surges up, wrapping an arm around your back and flipping your positions in one fluid, powerful move. now you’re beneath him, legs splayed wide, his body caging yours as he settles between your thighs. the shift presses him even deeper, the new angle hitting that spot inside that makes you cry out, arching up to meet him.

he starts thrusting immediately, deep, measured strokes that have you seeing white, building that steady pressure in your core, his body pinning you down.

your fingers hook into the hem of his shirt, finally tugging it upward. he pauses mid-thrust, lifting his arms to help you yank it off over his head, revealing his bare chest.

your eyes drop immediately to his abs — defined ridges of muscle flexing with each breath. they’re sculpted, earned from endless hours of training and performance, and the sight hits you like a spark, making your pussy tighten around him involuntarily.

“when did you get these?” you murmur, voice breathy as you trail your nails down the planes of his stomach, feeling them contract under your touch. he fucks into you again, deep and slow, the motion making his abs tense further.

jisung smirks down at you, eyes hooded with lust, but there’s a playful glint there too, “always had them, you just weren’t looking,” he teases, his voice low and rough, punctuating the words with another measured thrust that has you gasping.

you roll your eyes at his cockiness, hooking a hand around his neck to pull him down, whispering “faster,” before crashing your lips onto his for another heated kiss.

he doesn’t hesitate, adjusting his grip on your hips and picking up the pace, his thrusts turning sharper, harder, slamming into you with a rhythm that rocks the couch beneath you, the friction intense, hitting deeper with every forceful drive.

jisung pulls back from the kiss after a moment, his focus shifting entirely to the motion of his hips, breaths coming in hot pants against your ear. he buries his face in the crook of your neck, lips brushing your skin as soft whines escape him — high and needy, mixing with deeper grunts each time he bottoms out.

“fuck, noona….so good,” he whimpers, voice cracking with the effort to hold back, his body trembling slightly above you. sweat drips from his brow onto your collarbone and you can feel the strain in him, the way his muscles lock as he fights his release, determined to push you over the edge first.

every thrust targets your pleasure, his hips angling just right to drag over your g-spot, the head of his cock nudging it relentlessly. your legs wrap tighter around his waist, heels digging into his back to urge him on, and the coil in your core winds impossibly tighter, heat building to a fever pitch.

jisung's whines grow more desperate by your ear, a mix of “please...cum for me” and breathless grunts.

his determination is clear — he wants to prove it, show you he's no longer the shy kid, but a man who can take care of you, make you shatter around him before he lets go.

your walls clench around him tighter, the slick heat building to an unbearable peak as his pace quickens even more, balls slapping against your ass with every forceful entry.

he leans in close, his mouth hot against your ear, breaths ragged and uneven, “c’mon noona... let go,” he murmurs between grunts, his voice strained with effort.

one hand slides between your bodies, fingers finding your clit and rubbing firm circles over the swollen nub, the added pressure pushing you right to the brink. your back arches off the couch, nails digging into his shoulders as the orgasm crashes over you, pussy fluttering wildly around his length, waves of ecstasy pulsing from your core outward. your juices flood his cock, soaking the condom and dripping down to the cushions below, thighs quivering from the intensity.

jisung groans deeply at the feel of you coming undone, his thrusts faltering for a split second as your tightness nearly undoes him. but he holds on, slowing just enough to ride out your climax, his fingers still teasing your clit lightly to draw it out longer.

“fuck, yes... so fucking hot,” he pants, watching your face contort in bliss, pride flashing in his eyes — he did it, made you shatter first.

as your tremors subside, leaving you boneless and gasping beneath him, jisung's restraint snaps. he picks up speed again, fucking into your oversensitive pussy with short, desperate strokes, chasing his own release, guttural moans escaping his lips, body tensing as he buries himself deep one last time. his cock throbs inside you, pulsing as he cums hard, filling the condom with hot spurts. he collapses forward slightly, forehead pressed to yours, hips jerking erratically until he's spent, a satisfied shudder running through him.

for a moment, you both stay like that, breaths mingling in the quiet room, the movie still playing in the background.

jisung lifts his head, a lazy grin spreading across his face as he brushes a strand of hair from your cheek, but it's clear he's beaming inside — his eyes crinkling at the corners, that boyish glow he can't quite hide, even as he tries to play it cool.

you're his dream girl, after all.

and the way his chest rises and falls a little too quickly gives him away.

“that was better than anything i could imagine,” he says softly, voice hoarse, before leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your lips.

“well, now you don’t have to imagine,” you say, your fingers tracing lazy circles on his back as you hold his gaze, the warmth in your chest making your words come out steady and sincere, “i was serious, you know? i don’t want this to be a one-time thing… unless that’s what you want.”

jisung's eyes search yours, that familiar flicker of surprise and something deeper — maybe hope — lighting up his features. he shifts slightly, propping himself up on one elbow while his other hand rests lightly on your hip, thumb stroking the skin there in slow, soothing motions.

he's trying so hard to act cooler, but the beaming smile tugs at his lips, his cheeks flushing just a bit as he fights to keep his excitement reined in.

“no,” he murmurs quickly, shaking his head as if the idea alone is ridiculous, “god, no. that's the last thing i want. i've been imagining this — us — for months. years. but hearing you say that...it makes it real.”

you smile, reaching up to tuck a damp strand of his hair behind his ear, your touch lingering as you pull him down for another kiss, this one deeper but still tender, tongues brushing lazily.

when you break apart, you whisper against his lips, “good. because i like you — like, really like you. so start believing it, okay?”

“i believe you,” he says, voice muffled but excited, almost shy, the beaming energy seeping through despite his efforts to tone it down.

he exhales a shaky laugh, burying his face in the curve of your neck for a second, his warm breath tickling your skin as he presses a series of soft kisses along your collarbone.

you tilt your head, a playful glint in your eye as your fingers trail up his arm, tracing the lean muscle there.

“now,” you murmur, voice low and teasing, laced with that warmth from before, “you want to show me what else you've imagined us doing?”

his reaction is instant — a smirk curls his mouth, slow and knowing, chasing away any remnants of shyness. those dark eyes heat up, locking onto yours with confidence.

without a word, he shifts, sliding his arms under you in one fluid motion, scooping you up bridal style like you weigh nothing. your legs dangle over his arm, and you can't help the surprised laugh that bubbles out as he stands, cradling you against his chest.

“bedroom,” he says simply, his voice a rough whisper against your ear, that smirk still playing on his lips

🎬

three days slips by in a blur of schedules and stolen texts — late-night messages that make you smile at your phone.

but today, the music show buzzes with energy, your group weaving through the backstage chaos, outfits sparkling under the lights. nct dream's here too, their laughter echoing from down the hall as you prepare for your silly mini segment with stray kids' bang chan.

it’s all lighthearted fun, the concept scripted — you batting your lashes, calling him “oppa” in that exaggerated, cute tone that has the crew chuckling.

chan plays along perfectly, his dimpled smile wide as he hands you a single red rose, the stem wrapped in ribbon.

“for a pretty girl,” he teases, voice warm and brotherly. you take it with a giggle, then link arms for the heart pose — your hands forming the shape together, faces close enough for the cameras to catch the playful spark.

back in nct dream’s dressing room, the t.v. flickers with the live feed, the boys sprawled on couches and chairs, half-watching between touch-ups and snacks.

jisung’s there, legs kicked out, but his posture stiffens the moment your face fills the screen. he watches you lean into chan, that soft oppa slipping from your lips like honey, and something sharp twists in his chest.

his jaw clenches, teeth grinding just enough to make the muscle jump, eyes narrowing into slits as chan passes the rose. the heart pose seals it — your smiles synced, bodies angled close — and jisung's fingers dig into the armrest, knuckles whitening.

chenle, scrolling on his phone beside him, catches the shift immediately. he snickers, nudging jisung's shoulder with his elbow, “make it more obvious, won't you?”

jisung doesn't even glance away from the screen, his gaze locked on you as the segment ends, “i don't know how you do this,” he mutters, voice low and edged with frustration, finally turning to chenle.

chenle’s eyebrows raised in mock innocence, “do what?”

“date an actress,” jisung shoots back, running a hand through his hair, “i’m literally gonna crash out and it’s just a segment.”

chenle bursts out laughing, shoulders shaking as he claps jisung on the back. he shrugs, nonchalant and grinning wide, “i'm just cooler and more mature than you, jisungie.”

🎬

the show pulses on, a relentless rhythm of spotlights and applause, the corridors buzz with hurried footsteps and muffled chatter, but you navigate them with purpose, heart racing from the high and the unresolved pull toward jisung.

he’s been a ghost all day, avoiding your gaze like it's a spotlight he can't afford.

from the corner, your fingers brush his wrist, light but insistent, pulling him quickly into the familiar dim closet without a word.

the door snicks shut, sealing out the world.

jisung's back meets the wall, his eyes snapping to yours, wide, caught off guard, “noona?” he says, voice a hushed rasp, surprise threading through the warmth.

“you haven't looked at me once this whole show,” you murmur, closing the gap until your bodies nearly touch. your voice dips lower, probing, “what's wrong?”

he shifts, gaze dropping to the scuffed floor, jaw clenching in that telltale way. the jealousy from the segment with chan simmers beneath his skin, a sharp twist in his gut from watching you laugh and pose, but he shoves it down deep.

that's kid stuff. and he’s a man. a mature man.

“nothing... just being careful,” he murmurs, forcing a casual shrug.

you see the sulk anyway — the downturned lips, the furrowed brow, the way his shoulders hunch just a fraction. it’s endearing, pulling a soft smile from you as you step in closer, your palm flattening against his chest to feel the rapid thump of his heart.

“you’re cute when you lie.”

his eyes lift then, dark and conflicted, holding yours for a beat too long before he sighs, “i—i’m not lying—the cameras, the fans... everyone’s watching. don't want to cause trouble for us. that's all.”

it’s a half-truth, delivered with a shrug that doesn't quite land, his body betraying him as it leans into your touch.

“try again,” you tease gently, fingers sliding up to cup his jaw, tilting his face so he can't hide, “is it the segment? chan oppa?”

his breath catches, a flicker of admission in the way his eyes narrow, but he nods slowly, the mature mask slipping.

“kinda,” he confesses, voice dropping to a gravelly whisper, his hand settling at your waist, thumb on your bare skin, “stupid, i know. it’s a segment. but seeing you call him that, smile like... like that…”

he pulls you flush against him, the confession hanging heavy but freeing, “i don't want to be the jealous kid. but fuck, i hate sharing even a second of your attention.”

the closet feels smaller now, the world outside fading as you lean in, lips brushing his ear, “you’re not,” you murmur, feeling him shiver, “you're the one i pulled in here. the one I can't stop thinking about.”

the admission hangs between you, raw and real, and you close the distance, lips grazing his in a feather-light touch that ignites everything. he responds instantly, hands framing your face, deepening the kiss.

the urgency builds but so do the voices echoing down the hall — staff calling for the next lineup, footsteps approaching — and he breaks away with a frustrated groan, forehead resting against yours, breathing ragged and uneven.

his eyes, dark with want but sparkling with that boyish hope, search yours.

“come to mine again tonight?” he whispers quietly, voice laced with plea, his thumb stroking your cheek in soft, adoring circles.

you shake your head, a playful glint in your eye as you bite your lip, “no.”

“no?” he pulls back slightly, confusion flickering across his flushed face, brows knitting together in the most adorable pout, his lower lip jutting out.

“you come to mine,” you say with a smile, voice teasing and inviting, your hand sliding down his chest to rest over his racing heart.

“i'll wait for you….in your best ahjussi outfit,” you wink, eyes dripping with that knowing mischief.

he laughs, the sound rumbling through his chest, a shy grin breaking through the sulk as he leans in closer, his ears turning an even brighter shade of pink.

“i’ll borrow a gray wig from the costume department,” he says, his voice light and playful, eyes crinkling, at the corners with pure delight, gummy smile and all.

you giggle, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips, soft and lingering, both of you smiling into it before the outside world swallows you both back into reality.

but then came the social media apocalypse. chenle scrolled through twitter, instagram, tiktok, naver — every damn app on his phone had declared war on his sanity.

apparently your chemistry with your current co-star is just absolutely phenomenal! the tension, breathtaking! there are at least fifty edits of a slowed down eye contact that proves you’re in love. hearts exploding, slow-mo sparkles, romantic background music. and the entirety of the population is absolutely convinced that it was real. as in, ‘they're banging behind the scenes’ real.

it pisses him off.

1) how come this guy gets to stare at you like that while he can’t even glance your way for two seconds without 80% of his fandom canceling him in a heartbeat? — “chenle looked at her! boycott!” tweets would fly faster than his dignity.

2) why the fuck did your co-star, lee chaemin, have to be so annoyingly attractive? the dude had cheekbones to die for and eyes that could make any girl swoon. chenle caught himself in the mirror once, trying to replicate that gaze, and ended up looking like he was constipated. pathetic.

3) did the eye contacts actually mean anything? was there some secret actress code where a lingering look equaled ‘you’re so much better than my boyfriend, let’s date instead!

of course not…right?

you were just such a great actress. he knew that from the start. but fuck, he can’t help it. the insecurity has started.

chenle slammed his phone down, running a hand through his hair, “it’s fine,” he muttered to the empty room, “totally fine. i’m chill. super chill.”

🎬

a week later and he’s still here. moping. sighing.

it’s been a rough week, too. work has kept you both on opposite schedules — your late nights on set meant you drag home exhausted long after he’s crashed and by morning, he’s already out the door for his own schedule.

the whole week has just been rushed pecks at dawn and quick goodbyes that leave him aching for more. the distance making everything feel off. no real time together, no touches that linger, just fragments that feed straight into the doubt gnawing at him from those endless online edits.

to shake it off, he decides to surprise you on set.

he spent the entire afternoon in your shared kitchen, whipping up your favorite snack, just how you like it — the thermos packed with spicy tteokboki, extra cheese, along with some mandu he steamed on the side. all made with love.

he sneaks onto the lot with a cap pulled low and a mask hiding his face, flashing his visitor pass at security.

your trailer is tucked away in a quiet corner, away from the bustle of crew and lights. he knocks softly, heart picking up when you open the door, still in your costume — a flowy dress your character seemed to always be in.

“chenle! what are you doing here?” your face lights up instantly — no hesitation, no confusion. just pure happiness. you grab his wrist and tug him inside before he can even answer, clicking the door shut and immediately throwing your arms around his neck. he barely has time to react before you’re hugging him tight, cheek pressed to his chest.

“i missed you,” you mumble into his hoodie. his arms wrap around you automatically, one hand sliding up to cradle the back of your head, already feeling so much better.

the trailer is cozy, cluttered with scripts and makeup, the faint hum of the AC the only sound now that you’re alone.

“brought you a snack,” he says, holding up the bag, forcing his voice steady, “i haven’t been able to cook for you this whole week.”

your heart melts at that, grabbing the bag and then immediately grabbing him again — this time pressing a quick kiss to his cheek, then another to the corner of his mouth.

“you’re actually the best boyfriend in the world,” you declare, dragging him toward the mini couch without letting go of his hand. you plop down first as he took the seat across from you.

you unpack it eagerly, the spicy aroma filling the space as you dig in, eyes closing around the first bite, “mmm — this is sooo good, chenle,” you moan around the tteokbokki, cheeks puffed adorably. “exactly what i needed.”

the two of you ate in silence while you read through your script. him on his phone. just enjoying each other’s presence.

but then — the sighs start slipping out — dramatic huffs as he stares at his phone between bites. one. two. three. by the fourth, you pause, chopsticks hovering.

“okay, what’s wrong?” you say, looking up from your script after hearing your boyfriend’s fifth sigh.

“what? nothing’s wrong,” he says. a little too quickly.

“chenle. you sighed fived times. what is it? did the warriors lose or something?”

“no, the warriors won,” he mutters, forcing a casual shrug.

you set your script down, crossing your arms as you lean back, one eyebrow arched in that way that always makes his stomach flip — half amused, half ready to dismantle him.

“spill it. is it work? the boys don’t want to play basketball with you again?? or…” your voice trails off, a teasing lilt creeping in as you tilt your head, “something on your feed?”

he winces internally. of course you’d guess. you knew him better than he knew himself. there was no point in keeping it from you.

“it’s nothing, really…just stupid social media crap. people are losing their minds over you and chaemin. the chemistry and all that.”

you snort, “babe, it’s scripted. fake as a green screen explosion. you know that.”

“yeah, i know,” he says, but his voice cracks just enough to betray him. your eyes meet his, and damn it, it’s the same intense gaze from the edits — the one that’s been haunting his scrolls. his chest tightens.

“—but everyone thinks it’s real. the comments, the tiktoks…they’re shipping you with him. and i get it, you’re amazing at what you do. but fuck—,” he sighs, ruffling a hand through his hair, “—it messes with my head. like, why can’t we have that in public? why don’t people ship you with me instead?? and those looks you give him—,”

“chenle, stop.”

you cut him off with a laugh, but inside, a thrill sparks — oh, this is gold.

he swore up and down he never gets jealous, that dating you was easy because he trusted you completely, no matter the role. and now here he is, unraveling over scripted scenes and tiktok edits. and you love it, the way his cool cracks, revealing how much he cares.

you get up, squeezing yourself on his side of the couch.

“there is no ‘him.’ it’s acting — lights, camera, action — then cut…and i’m thinking about what i’m having for dinner with you,” you reassure, voice soft but laced with that teasing edge.

“but…” you continue, your fingers trailing up his thigh, the touch light at first, voice dropping to a husky whisper, “if it’s bothering you that much…maybe i need to remind you what real chemistry looks like.”

your hand presses firmer against his pants, palming him, feeling him stir under your touch, the fabric tenting as his cock begins to harden, thickening against you. slow circles with your fingers coax him further, the heat building as you rub along his length, feeling every inch respond to you — the subtle twitch, the way he shifts his hips just a fraction closer.

he doesn't resist — instead, his hands find your waist, as you lean in. your lips meet in a slow, deep kiss that starts tender, tasting like spice and him. his mouth opens to you, tongues brushing in a lazy dance that deepens quickly, hungry now.

you pour everything into it — the reassurance, the desire — nipping at his lower lip, drawing a low groan from his throat. the kiss turns messy, breaths mingling hot and fast, your free hand tangling in his shirt to pull him impossibly closer while the other keeps palming him, squeezing gently to feel him fully erect, straining against the confines.

the insecurity melts away with each press of your lips, replaced by that raw need you both crave. you break the kiss reluctantly, your forehead resting against his for a beat, eyes locked in that intimate gaze that says more than words.

then, with a wicked smile, you slide off the couch, tugging him toward the edge by his belt loops. he follows your lead, legs parting as you settle on your knees between them, the floor rough against your skin but forgotten in the heat of the moment.

your hands work his zipper open deliberately, the sound sharp in the quiet trailer. you tug his pants and boxers down just enough to free his cock — now fully hard, thick and veined, with a bead of precum at the tip. the cool air makes him throb once, visibly, and you wrap your fingers around the base, stroking with a firm, unhurried grip that makes his breath hitch.

you look up at him through your lashes, that sultry gaze no one else gets to see — raw, hungry, all for him. the dominant edge in your control makes his submissive side surface, his hands hovering before settling on the table, letting you lead.

“only you get to see me like this,” you murmur, your breath hot against his skin as you wrap your finger around the base, stroking slowly, “on my knees, mouth full of you. no cameras. no directors. just us.”

he watches, mesmerized, chest rising and falling quicker as you start with your tongue —a slow, flat lick from base to tip, savoring the salty tang of him.

the physical pull between you tightens, that emotional thread weaving through every sensation — the way his eyes soften even as his body tenses. you swirl your tongue around the head, lapping up the precum before parting your lips and taking him in inch by inch. the wet heat of your mouth surrounds him, velvet soft yet insistent, cheeks hollowing as you suck with deliberate pressure.

you bob your head slowly at first, building the rhythm, feeling him pulse against your tongue — the ridges, the heat, the way he fills you completely. saliva gathers, slicking your movements as you take him deeper, until the tip nudges the back of your throat. a soft hum vibrates from you, sending shivers through him, his fingers threading into your hair.

god, you were a vision. this was better than any of those damn edits.

“fuck, baby,” he gasps, hips bucking up, but you pin him down with your free hand, controlling the pace.

the whine that escapes him is desperate, needy, his cool facade crumbling as you pick up the pace — lips sliding slickly along his shaft, hand twisting at the base with each upward pull. drool escapes the corner of your mouth, trailing down, making everything messier, more real.

you glance up, eyes gleaming with satisfaction at how he’s falling apart, his body trembling under your attention. you don’t let up, hollowing your cheeks deeper, bobbing quicker, trying your best to ingore your gag reflex and the tears that are threatening to spill over.

“gonna cum—fuck—,” he stammers, voice breaking into a high-pitched whine.

you pull off just in time, stroking him fast with your hand, aiming his throbbing cock at your face.

he loses it. hips jerking as ropes of hot cum shoots out, splattering across your cheeks, lips, tongue and chin in thick spurts. you keep pumping, milking every drop until he’s spent, shuddering and panting, his release dripping down your skin in sticky trails.

still on your knees, you hold his gaze, lips parted, eyes glistening. he reaches down, thumb brushing over your cheek to swipe up a streak of his cum, smearing it gently before pressing his fingers to your mouth. you part your lips, tongue darting out to lick it off slowly, sucking his digits clean while locking eyes with him. he watches, breath hitching, as you swirl your tongue around each finger, tasting him fully, the act pulling a low groan from his throat.

yeah, he better be the only one who gets to see you like this or else he’ll end up on the news.

you rise then, climbing onto his lap, doing your best to straddle him in the tight space, your dress hiking up as you settle over his thighs, feeling his cock twitch against you, still half-hard and slick.

your hands frame his face, thumbs tracing his jaw as you lean in close, “i like seeing you jealous,” you whisper, voice laced with mischief, “it’s hot.”

he rolls his eyes but there’s no real denial in it, just a huff escaping as he grips your hips, “i’m not jealous,” he mutters, though the flush on his cheeks says otherwise.

you smirk, grinding down lightly against him, the friction making him shift, “i have to do a kissing scene with chaemin after this,” you tease, watching his reaction sharpen. his eyes darken instantly, jaw tightening, that possessive fire igniting.

“want to make sure he knows how well my boyfriend fucks me?” you continue, messing with him deliberately.

and it’s working — his hands flex on your waist, breath quickening. in one swift motion, he hoists you up, strong arms lifting you effortly as he stands, sitting you on the trailer’s counter.

the jealousy in his eyes has twisted into something feral, possessive, and you’re enjoying every second of it.

his hands slide up your thighs, bunching the fabric of your dress as he steps between your legs, forcing them apart with his hips, his fingers trailing higher while his mouth crashes against yours, lips demanding and fierce. you kiss him back just as hungrily, fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer.

his fingers pushes yours panties to the side, parting your folds slowly, teasing the slick entrance and circling your clit in lazy strokes that makes you squirm.

“only i get to touch you like this,” he growls low, voice rough with possesiveness.

“mhm,” you moan into his mouth, “only you,” the sound muffled by the wet slide of your tongues tangling. your hips twitch toward his touch, body arching into his hand.

he smirks into the kiss, his free hand gripping your thigh to hold you steady as he continues to torment, building the ache without giving you what you crave.

it’s not until you’re panting and grinding against him that he finally gives in — thrusting two fingers deep into your pussy, stretching you with each pump, making your hips buck wildly.

“fuck, yes,” you whimper, chasing his mouth. he seals his lips over yours again while his fingers curl inside, hitting that spot he knew too well.

your hips continue to grind down onto his hand, chasing the building wave, but before you can tip over the edge, he pulls his fingers free with a wet pop, leaving you aching and empty.

he doesn’t give you a chance to complain, already moving, scooping you up off the counter, your legs wrapping around his waist instinctively. he carries you the few steps to the larger leather couch, the cool material hitting your back as he lays you down.

he follows immediately, kicking off his pants fully before climbing over you, body caging yours in the cramped space.

the couch creaks under your combined weight, but neither of you cares — you need this. crave it after the week of stolen glances and hurried farewells that left you both hollow.

you’ve missed him just as fiercely as he’s missed you.

“god, i’ve needed this,” he rasps as he slots between your thighs, tugging your panties down and gripping your hip to yank you closer. his cock nudges your entrance and then he slams inside with a guttural grunt, filling your pussy to the hilt in one brutal stroke. you cry out, arching up to meet him, your nails raking down his back in sharp lines that make him hiss.

he starts pounding into you immediately, hips pistoning fast and rough like he’s trying to erase every lingering doubt, every jealous thought from earlier.

the trailer rocks with the force of it, the wet sounds of his cock sliding in and out echoing off the thin walls — sloppy, relentless, your arousal coating him.

“take it baby,” he pants, leaning down to capture your mouth in a messy kiss, teeth clashing, “no one else can fuck you like this.”

you moan into him, legs spreading wider to let him drive deeper, your hands clutching his shoulder, pulling him closer. he angles his hips to hit that sweet spot inside you, the drag of his cock sending jolts of pleasure through your body.

leaning down further, his mouth finds your neck, teeth grazing the sensitive skin, just below your ear. he sucks hard, deliberate, marking you with a deep, blooming hickey that’s visible enough to stake his claim, to let everyone whisper, but subtle enough to hide under makeup and not enough to halt filming. the sting blooms into heat, making you gasp as he licks it over soothingly before biting again, lighter this time, his hips never slowing their grind.

“mine,” he murmurs against your skin, voice rough.

you whimper, tilting your head to give him better access, your fingers threading thorugh his hair to hold him there.

his hands slip the straps of your dress down your shoulders, exposing your breasts to the cool air. they bounce with each powerful thrust, nipples hardening instantly and he dives in without hesitation — lips latching onto one, sucking harshly as his tongue flicks the sensitive bud.

the dual sensation of his cock hammering your pussy and his lips devouring your tits pushes you closer.

“chenle—,” you moan, arching your back to press your breast deeper into his hot suction. your hips buck up to match his rhythm, the friction building that coil in your belly tighter and tighter. moans spill from your lips unchecked, raw and loud, the two of you lost in the frenzy, “—don’t stop,” you pant, legs locking around his waist to pull him deeper, your pussy clenching around his thick length.

you’re so close, teetering on the edge, every nerve alight with the stretch and drag of him inside you. waves of pleasure crest, your breaths coming in sharp gasps, body tensing—

a sharp knock rattles the trailer door. you both freeze. chenle’s cock throbbing deep in your pussy, your walls fluttering around him in frustration.

“hey! we need you on set in five! the last kissing scene with chaemin for the night!” your manager’s voice, muffled but insistent, slicing through the thick air like an unwelcome intruder.

chenle’s head snaps up, his eyes narrowing into dark slits of irritation, jaw clenched so tight you can see the muscle twitch. but he doesn’t pull away — no. he stays right there, buried to the root inside you, his thick cock pulsing against your fluttering walls, refusing to let the moment shatter completely.

the interruption hangs between you, your heart pounding not just from the near-orgasm but from the thrill of almost getting caught, the risk of it all making your skin prickle with heat.

“i-i’ll be out in a minute!” you call back, voice strained and breathy, forcing a steadiness that doesn’t match the way your body trembles beneath him. it comes out higher than intended, laced with the edge of a moan you barely swallow down. your manager grumbles something indistinct — an acknowledgement, maybe a sigh — before her footsteps fade away, leaving the trailer in heavy silence once more.

your chest heaves with ragged breaths, pulse thundering in your ears, the denial of release twisting into a deeper ache that pools low in your belly. you clench around him instinctively, a silent plea, and chenle’s lips curve into that wicked smirk, the possessive glint in his eyes flaring brighter than before.

“a minute?” he murmurs, voice a low rumble against your ear, dripping with challenge, “that’s all i need to remind you who you belong to.”

without another word, he surges forward again, thrusting hard and fast, making every second count — his cock pounding into you with renewed fury. his hips snap against yours, the slap of skin on skin echoing louder now, more desperate, as if he’s racing the clock itself.

the mention of chaemin’s name ignited something feral in him, a fresh blaze of possessive fire that makes his eyes darken to near black. he snarls low in his throat, the jealousy fueling him like gasoline on flames, and his pace turns savage. he fucks you faster, rougher, his hips rutting into you wildly, angling your body just right with a firm hand on your hip, tilting you so your head nearly slips off the edge of the leather couch. the world spins as he hits deeper, the force of his thrusts jolting you with every slam, your neck arching back until dizziness swirls in your skull, pleasure and disorientation blurring into one intoxicating rush.

he growls, one hand sliding between your sweat-slicked bodies, fingers finding your swollen clit and rubbing tight, insistent circles that make your vision blur. the pressure builds instantly, white-hot and overwhelming, your moans turning frantic and unrestrained as he drives you toward the edge you were yanked from moments ago.

“cum on my cock, baby — show me no one else can do this to you.”

his thumb presses harder on your clit, flicking in time with his wild bucks, and you were a goner. you cum — hard — clamping around him with a sharp cry that rips from your throat, thighs trembling uncontrollably, your head spinning wildly from the angle and the intensity, stars exploding behind your eyelids.

the sight — the feel, the way you scream his name — tips him over too. he groans low and guttural, the sound broken and primal, his rhythm faltering as your orgasm squeezes him mercilessly, burying himself to the hilt with one final, deep plunge, cock twitching violently as he cums inside you. hot spurts flood your walls, thick and endless, coating you until you feel utterly claimed, marked from the inside out. he rocks his hips shallowly through it, grinding to push every drop deeper, his breath hot and erratic against your neck.

panting, sweat-slicked and spent, he pulls out slowly, his softening cock slipping free with a wet glide, a thick trail of his cum starting to leak from your swollen folds. but before your pussy can push it out, you slid your hand down between your legs, fingers dipping into the mess as you scooped up the creamy release, pressing it back inside you with a deliberate push, sealing it within you.

chenle watches, transfixed, his eyes hooded and dark, chest still rising and falling heavily. the sight of your fingers working his cum back into you makes his breath hitch again, a fresh twitch stirring in his spent length, already half-hardening at the erotic display.

“shit, baby,” he murmurs, voice rough with lingering hunger, reaching down to trace a finger along your inner thigh, smearing the excess. “you really are mine, aren’t you?”

“of course i am,” you meet his gaze, your hand stilling as you nod, the words spilling out soft but steady, “you’re the only one i think of when i do those scenes,” you murmur, voice soft but steady, locking gazes with him, reassuring him one last time, the words wrapping around his lingering jealousy like a hug.

chenle’s eyes soften as your words sink in, the tension in his shoulders easing like a storm finally breaking. his hand cup your cheek with a tenderness that contrasts the raw intensity from moments ago.

“i know,” he whispers, voice rough from exertion but laced with relief, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, "i believe you. always have.”

the jealousy that had clawed at him all week fades into the background, replaced by the quiet certainty of your relationship — the one that’s real, unscripted and unbreakable.

he helps you up, steadying you as your legs wobble from the aftershocks, then grabs a paper towel from the nearby sink to wipe away the lingering traces of your passion — gentle swipes over your thighs, your chest, his touch soft now, like he’s memorizing every inch all over again.

“no one else can see you like this,” he teases lightly, but his smile is warm, eyes crinkling at the corners.

you kiss him again before slipping into the tiny bathroom attached to the trailer, brushing your teeth — chaemin doesn’t need to know how your boyfriend tasted.

he watches you with a fond gaze, and when you finish, he steps in close, hands finding your waist from behind, chin resting on your shoulder as you both stare into the mirror. his lips brushing your neck in feather-light kisses, savoring the moment.

“you look perfect,” he murmurs against your skin.

dressed and composed, you steal one last moment, leaning into his arms, enjoying the quiet, before your manager’s knock echoes again, more insistent this time.

chenle walks you to the door, his hand in yours, squeezing reassuringly, “go kill it out there,” he says, but there’s a spark in his eye, a newfound resolve, “…i think im gonna watch, if that’s okay with you?”

you nod, surprised but warmed by the shift and he follows you out, slipping into the bustling set like a shadow at your side.

🎬

the crew buzzes around, lights glaring and cameras positioned. he stays at the back, finding a spot just off to the side — close enough to watch, far enough not to disrupt. his presence feels like an anchor, steady and supportive, as you step into the scene with chaemin.

the director calls action and it unfolds — the scripted buildup, the charged glances, the slow lean-in that culminates the kiss. chenle’s gaze locks on you, arms crossed over his chest, jaw set in quiet observation. he watches chaemin’s hand cup your face like it was a choreography, the press of lips that was all timing and angle, no heat, no hunger, just actor’s hitting their marks. it was polished, sure, the kind of illusion that fools cameras and fans alike, but up close? he sees it for what it is — movie magic. no spark, no pull.

he still hates it though. that gnawing twist in his chest at seeing another guy’s face so near yours, even if it’s fake. the possessiveness flares just enough to remind him why he showed up today.

but as the director yells “cut!” and you pull back from chaemin with professional ease, wiping your lips subtly on the back of your hand — it doesn’t go unnoticed by him either.

the set erupts in the usual post scene chatter —crew adjusting lights, the script supervisor calling notes, chaemin cracking a joke to lighten the mood that draws polite laughs but nothing more. you glance over at him, eyes finding his across the chaos and there’s that shared secret in your gaze, the one that says this is all surface-level.

and he gets it. really gets it. the difference is night and day. your kisses with him are messy, desperate grabs in stolen moments, tongues tangling like you can’t get enough, breaths ragged and bodies pressing close because you want to, not because you have to.

this? this is work. a job. and you’re damn good at it, which only makes him prouder, even if he’d rather punch a wall than admit how much cool he lost earlier.

the scene wraps not long after, the director calling it a day. you slip away from the group without a second glance, heading straight toward chenle. his eyes light up as you approach, that boyish grin breaking through.

“i was thinking,” you murmur, sliding your arms around his waist as you reach him, head tilting back to look up at him.

“hmm?” he hums back, wrapping his arms around your shoulders, holding you close.

“can you make ramen for dinner tonight?” your voice is soft, a pout on your lips that he found utterly adorable.

his heart does a little flip — that whole time in front of the cameras, acting like you’re in love with someone else and all you were thinking about is dinner…with him. exactly like you told him earlier.

“sure, baby,” he replies, voice warm and steady, leaning down to press quick kiss to your temple.

you smile against his chest.

“and can we get ice cream on the way home?” you add, meeting his eyes, a playgul glint there.

he lets out a quiet laugh, shaking his head like you’re unbelievable.

“anything you want,” he says without hesitation, his grin deepening as he tucks you closer, the two of you turning toward the exit together.

the set lights dim behind you, the noise fading, the world shrinking down to the warmth of him.

you lean into his shoulder. he presses a soft kiss into your hair.

dinner. ice cream. the quiet ride home.

chenle is nonchalant about a lot of things — schedules, cameras, rumors, the chaos of it all. he carries it lightly, like nothing really shakes him.

but he can never be nonchalant about you.

it’s actually impossible. because when it comes to you, his heart gives him away every single time. and he just loves you far too much to ever pretend otherwise.

“are you fucking kidding me? this again,” you sigh in disappointment. he practically begged you to introduce her to him and he just pulls away like he always does.

“uhhh yes this again,” he replies blatantly, rolling his eyes, “remember what happened last time with that other girl, she laughed at my face and told me it was disappointing that i didn’t live up to everyone’s expectations yet alone even make her cum,” he cringed at the words, that day vividly replaying in his mind like a reoccurring nightmare.

“it was your first time mark, cut yourself some slack, it happens!,” you reassure him for the millionth time.

“yeah, no, i’d rather die a virgin than go through that embarrassment ever again,” he scoffs and you almost can’t believe what you’re about to say but your best friend needed serious help.

“how about you do some practice?,”

he looks at you like you just said the most ridiculous thing ever, “and who exactly am i gonna practice on?”

“me,”

“what?!”

“me,” you repeat even louder.

“i-what?”

“me! mark,” he freezes on the spot, registering your words and for a second you’re afraid you broke him until he breaks the silence, “no.”

“and why the fuck not? do you think i’m ugly?,”

“what?! no dude, you’re fucking hot,” the comment going straight to your head, giving you a boost of confidence.

“so what’s stopping you?,”

“dude, c'mon, you’re literally my best friend!”

“so?,”

“best friends don’t touch each other,”

“sure but as your best friend i can’t keep seeing you sabotage potential relationships because of something as silly as this!,” you argue while he still looks at you like you were crazy.

“i promise i won't laugh at you and i promise you will at least know how to make a girl cum after this,” you continue, becoming more compelling with every second that passes.

mark sits there in silence, weighing out the pros and cons of this agreement…and well, he couldn’t think of any cons. plus, you’re the only person he trusts enough to do this with.

he sighs deeply, finally making up his mind, “when do we start?”

you smirk at his response, happy to hear him agree, “right now.”

“what!? no!,”

“but you just agreed!,”

“yeah but i gotta do research first,”

“you mean watch more porn??,” you roll your eyes, scoffing, “THIS is your research, it’s not gonna get better than actually experiencing it firsthand,” you make your point and mark can’t argue with that.

he does learn faster when he’s doing it himself.

“okay,” he nods slowly, trying to come to terms that this is happening now.

“okay,” you agreed, slowly inching the space in between you, “we’re in a practice room after all,” you smirk, whispering against his ear, sending goosebumps throughout mark’s body as he waits for you to take the lead, not quite sure if this is real or just a figment of his imagination.

you notice the way he froze, only indication that he was still in the room was the anxious bouncing of his leg, eyes staring straight at the floor, “relax, mark,” you say, placing your hand gently on his thigh. mark gulps, staring at your hand, still refusing to look at you.

“well, this just won't do,” you break the silence, grabbing his hand and pulling him across the room, making him sit on the floor – right in front of the mirror.

“wh-what?,” he sputters, looking up at your figure, still standing in front of him.

“now you have no choice but to look at me,” you tease, slowly removing your pants, leaving you in your panties before quickly taking your seat right in between mark’s legs, back rested against his body, facing the mirror ahead of you. this was as vulnerable for you as it was for him.

mark watches it all unfold in a blink of an eye, seeing you in your pink lacy underwear has got him salivating, the gravity of the situation settling in him…he was about to touch his very hot best friend.

“mark,” you call out to him, snapping him out of his daydream, his eyes following your voice, “yeah?,” he responds quietly, finding it hard to breathe. you give him a gentle smile, “is this okay?,” you ask, making yourself comfortable in the space between him. he responds in slow nods, the warmth from your body making it hard for him to think about anything else but you.

“good,” you part your legs for him, grabbing his hand and placing it on your clothed core, “touch me,” a light shocked expression appeared on his face due to your boldness before he obeyed, lightly rubbing his fingers against your panties.

“more pressure, mark,” he immediately follows your command, adding more pressure to his fingers as he slid them up and down the cotton barrier. you release a sigh of pleasure, feeling your arousal start to build up, watching mark through the mirror as he focuses on his fingers, eyebrow’s furrowing, making sure he’s rubbing you with the just the right amount of pressure.

it’s cute how determined he looks.

“don’t think too hard about it, you’re doing so well, can’t you feel how wet my panties are now?,” his cock twitching at your praise as your stained panties were starting to feel sticky against your cunt.

“take them off,” you demand. mark follows straight away, gently removing your panties off of you, leaving you completely bare, all for him.

“look in the mirror, mark,” you order and for the first time he finally makes eye contact with you through the glass, “look how wet i am for you,” you pout, your juices glistening under the lights.

mark can’t help but stare in awe, “dude, i-i did this?,” he says unsure, cheeks pink.

the nickname makes you frown, “do not call me dude when you’re about to have your fingers inside me,” you reprimand and he lets out a tiny apology before you grab his hand, placing it back on your cunt.

“now, show me what you know,”

marks fingers are back on you, rubbing you the way he did before, his fingers easily sliding up and down your slick folds, the friction making you whine under his touch. he takes that as a sign and without any warning, jams a finger in, immediately thrusting them in and out of you at an already brutal speed, making you hiss in pain.

“stop!,” you say, legs instinctively closing as he quickly pulls his fingers out, eyes wide, afraid.

“that did not feel good,” you give your feedback and he almost crashes out, the reminder of him being bad at this catching up to him, “b-but that's what they do in all the videos!” he sputters out, slightly panicking.

oh, how badly he needed your help.

“just take it slow mark, there’s no rush,” you smile softly, trying to comfort him, “here,” you grab his finger, controlling his speed as he slides down your core again, finger slowly disappearing inside you, following the curve of your pussy.

you let out a shaky breath at the slow intrusion, feeling your walls tighten around his digit. like this, you can feel how much longer his finger is compared to your own, reaching that spot so easily, “now curl it,” you instruct and he curls it perfectly on the first try, eliciting a moan from you, making his cock twitch.

“good boy,” you praise, boosting mark’s confidence as he curls his finger in the same spot again and again. you let go of his hand, letting him take over as he took note of every moan that spilled from your lips.

“i-is this good?,” he asks, adding another finger in and curling it just the way you like it.

“s-so good mark,” you whine under his touch, approving his action, “go faster now,” you say, hips arching up, needing more from him.

mark loves watching the way your body reacts to his hand and almost like his free hand had a mind of it’s own, it finds its way around your sensitive bud, rubbing slow but harsh circles, “ohhh fuuck,” you moan, head falling back to his shoulder as your hand gripped his thigh trying to ground yourself, the tension in your stomach tightening.

“yeah?, you like that baby?,” he whispers against your ear, the nickname sending tingles down your core, pussy clenching tightly around his fingers. mark doesn’t need to hear your answer with the way your body speaks to him, he takes note of all of it.

“s-say that again,” you gasp, fingers continuing to move inside you while the tingle in your stomach keeps growing and growing, mark’s newfound confidence becoming stronger and stronger with every moan you give him.

“gonna make my baby cum,” he grunts in your ear, more determined than ever to get a job done. you watch it all play out on the mirror in front of you — body trapped in his, mark’s fingers curling in and out of you, juices leaking onto his fingers, eyebrows slightly furrowed, light sweat dripping down his forehead, muscles clenching.

he’s so focused on you, and he looks fucking hot doing so.

you can’t help yourself, turning your head towards him and catching his lips in yours. mark halts his movement for a quick second before regaining his composure, kissing you back ferociously, tongue meeting yours, quickly taking the lead. he did not need any tips for this – mark was a good fucking kisser, great even.

his lips moving with yours heightens the rest of your senses, drowning out all the other noises and only focusing on the boy next to you. you feel everything — the circles around your clit, the curls of his finger, his rock hard cock against your back; making you feel lightheaded, heat traveling throughout your body as mark swallowed your moans with his kisses.

you only pull away when your release took over, “—gonna cum,” you barely warn him, head falling back to his shoulder, eyes rolling back, toes curling as you let out a strangled gasp, the mind bending orgasm making your body shake, mark coaxing you through it.

“made my baby cum on the first try,” he softly teases, leaving soft kisses on your temple as he watches you unravel through the mirror. your hips arched up as you leaned on him for support, eyes closed, lips flushed, looking absolutely fucked out and his own body can’t help but react to the scene, staining his sweats.

you try to calm your erratic breathing, eyes fluttering open to the scene of mark licking his fingers clean off your arousal, “how does it taste?,” you tease. his eyes darken at your question, looking right at you through the mirror, “so good baby…you taste so good,” he says before diving his fingers back to your cunt, making you jump, as he collected the remaining juices, bringing it back to his lips, humming in satisfaction, eye contact never breaking – the action turning you on more than ever.

“congrats, you just made a girl cum,” you smirk, turning around on your knees to face him.

he lets out a nervous chuckle, glancing at you with uncertainty. "be honest, how was it, really?" he asks, his voice tinged with anxiety and you can tell the burst of confidence he had earlier was gone.

“honestly,” you start, gaining his full attention, “soo good mark, you learn so quickly…you think you can make me do it again?,” you ask, doe eyes innocently looking up at his brown ones.

he nods furiously at your request, hands immediately going to your hips, getting ready to turn you around and have you back in the same position before you stop him.

“hmm, i was thinking, maybe you can make me cum on your cock?,” you ask and mark chokes on his own breath, glancing around the room, getting shy under your gaze.

“i-uhm, i already came in my pants,” he whispers, afraid to confess it out loud.

“that’s. so. hot.” you comment, hands finding its way to his thighs, as you observe the wet stain on his grey sweats, capturing mark’s attention.

“wait? really?”

“mhm, i think it’s really hot how much effect i have on you, cumming in your pants and i didn’t even have to touch you,” you tease, his pants feeling tighter and tighter, “what do you say, mark?, you want to cum again?,” you whisper, pouting your lips.

“fuck y/n,” he whines breathily, you had him wrapped around your fingers now, how could he ever say no?

he pulled you towards him, taking the lead and smashing his lips against yours, gently sucking, tongues battling for dominance. your hand wraps around his neck, fingers finding its way to his hair, gripping it gently. the action enough to harden his cock.

quickly you pull away, taking off your shirt, pink lacy bra coming into view matching your panties. mark takes a second to admire your body, warm hands squeezing your waist, before following suit, discarding his own clothes to the side, leaving him in his stained boxers, lips back on yours as you continue to explore each other’s mouths.

your hand travelled down his chest to his torso, lower and lower, slipping inside his boxers and wrapping around his cock, earning a moan from him. you take note of how long he is, the anticipation of him inside you making your pussy twitch, insides bubbling once again.

you pump him once, twice…his whines against your lips, making you clench around nothing but air.

“stop it baby, i'm not gonna last if you do that,” he pleads and you want so badly to just have your way with him, pumping him to finish as he withers in his moans but before you could do so, he pushes your hand away, creating space between you.

“stop, please…want to be inside you,” he cries, shutting his eyes, trying to calm himself down as he slows his breathing, holding you an arm length away. he feels like he’s gonna burst any minute now and he really doesn’t want to do that without making you cum a second time.

“okay, mark,” you follow his order, “you’re in charge, baby,” you give up control, waiting for mark to take the lead, as he inhaled and exhaled slowly, trying his best push away his orgasm. he slowly opens his eyes, all his breathing work practically useless at the sight of you.

“you’re so pretty,” he says before his hands wrapped around your hips, easily picking you up. you let out a quiet yelp at his sudden action. your best friend was a lot stronger than he looks.

he makes his way over to the couch, gently placing you down, body hovering over you as you push his boxers down, pink cock springing up, hitting his belly.

there was absolutely no going back from this.

“mark, do you have a condom?,”

“fuck,” he says looking at you wide eyed, “i-i dont have one,” he stutters, frustrated, tears brimming in the corner of his eyes at the thought of not being able to satisfy you.

“you don’t carry one around?,”

“dude, we’re literally in this situation because i don’t get any action,” he reminds you, earning a laugh from you – you almost forgot…especially with how good his touches felt against your skin.

“you’re laughing, i don’t have a condom and you’re laughing,” he says in disbelief, annoyed at himself, his frustration increasing every second your laugh reaches his ears, “hey, you promised you wouldn’t laugh,” he pouts, gently poking your sides, a small smile displayed on his lips.

“sorry, sorry, i-just, you should’ve seen your face, you look like you’re about to cry,” you point out, calming down, “i’m on the pill mark, its okay,” you soothe him, and mark’s jaw almost drops to the floor.

the last and first time he had “sex” with a girl, he came in the condom as soon as he bottomed in and now he expects himself to last more than 7 seconds with you? raw? he freezes once again and you notice the change in his demeanor.

“don’t be scared mark, we’ll take it at your pace,” you comfort him, turning his head towards you for a soft, gentle kiss – so much different from the rushed kisses you previously shared.

“hey, i'm your best friend, okay, you can trust me,” you remind him, giving him a small smile “it’s okay if you cum faster than me, you’ll know what to do if that happens,” you assure him, completely trusting him with your body and all his worries fade away.

mark finally snaps out of his overthinking mind, taking the lead once again, soft lips on yours as he gently pushes you down, back against the couch, body completely hovering over you.

he swipes his cock against your folds, collecting your juices, making you shiver in anticipation, before lining against your core, slowly pushing the tip in your hole, he breathes in — you feel so fucking warm. you moan at the invasion, walls expanding, adjusting to the size of his cock as he slowly pushed inside. synchronized moans filling up the air as he bottomed in, walls tightly clenching around him, sucking him in deeper and deeper you swear you can feel him in your cervix — feel every vein on his cock twitching.

“fuuck mark, you fit perfectly,” you whine, never have you had anything feel this good inside you and he hasn’t even moved. the comment makes him blush. he was gonna have to bring that up later…right now, he’s committed to redeeming himself and pleasing you.

he starts thrusting slowly, focused on your reaction, “hmmm, feels soo good mark,” you whine. he recalls the curl of his fingers inside you, making sure he angles his cock the same way, hitting you exactly where you need it. he finds it almost instantly, faster than any other guy has ever found it, “oh god, mark-fuck,” you jumble your words, too caught up with how he’s making you feel. the slowness of it all making it more intimate, each thrust properly hitting you deep inside, back arching at the feeling of his cock sliding in and out of you, deep grunts right by your ear, hips meeting his.

“y-you’re so fucking tight baby mhm, making it so hard f-for me,” he whimpers, quickening his pace, the sound of clapping starting to echo throughout the walls, moans mixing in the air, the growing tension in your belly making you feel hot as you gripped his toned arm muscles.

“f-fuck mark, i-im close,” you gasped. your sensitivity from your previous orgasm quickly catching up to you, as he continued his thrusts, “m-me too baby,” he stutters, cock twitching inside you.

his fingers find their way to your clit, rubbing quick circles. “oh fuck! mark, mark, mark-,” you moan over and over again, forgetting every other word but his name.

he feels like he's going to explode. the amount of restraint he was holding on to to make sure you came before him is making him feel lightheaded — desperate.

“c’mon baby, c-come with me please,” he pleadingly whines, thrusts gaining more speed, your juices making it easier for him to slide in and out, toes curling at the sensation as you feel the heat rise, the coil in your stomach making you gasp for air.

you didn't have time to warn him before your walls immediately closed in on his cock, second orgasm completely taking over, body going slack, breathy moans slipping past your lips, eyes shut, the tension in your stomach coming undone.

mark’s movements falter on top of you, your release triggering his as he paint your walls white, “fuuuck baby,” he groans, head burrowed into your neck, breathing heavily, body shaking on top of yours.

mark slowly pulls out, making you hiss at the loss of contact. you watch, in amazement, as your mixed juices spill out of your throbbing cunt, pussy still pulsating.

“how was that?,” he asks earnestly awaiting your response and all you could do is shoot him a smile, “are you sure you’ve never done this before?,” you ask, making him chuckle in satisfaction.

“good?,” he wanted to hear it from you.

“very good, mark,” you nod in approval earning a smile from him as he got up to get his shirt, using the fabric to clean you up.

“you’re a really quick learner,” you praise him.

“or i just have a really good teacher,” he shrugs, refusing to take credit for the mess the two of you made.

“well, i barely had to tell you anything for that one, you really took notes earlier huh?” you point out, as he sat down next to you, “i guess so,” he says, a small smile on display.

“think you got it, now? won’t be sabotaging any potential relationships anymore?,” you tease, disheveling his hair, a playful smile on your lips.

“hmm,” he hums, pondering.

truthfully, he was proud of himself, he really was scared over nothing, or maybe…maybe it was because you were his partner? and that made everything different. he trusts you which made it easier for him to not get caught up in his own fears, the sound of your moans and praises pushing away all his anxieties, leading him to success.

he wants to hear it again.

mark smiles mischievously, bright eyes shining, before turning to you, grabbing your hips and pulling you on top of him, “i don’t know baby, i think i might need more practice,” he says cheekily, lips on yours once again as he unhooks your bra.

—

but fuck you can’t help it, not when he’s a couple feet away from you and every click of his tongue and sighs that escape his lips are sending tingles straight down your core...maybe just this once?

“baby…,” you whisper in his ear, hugging him from behind. “hmm?,” he asks, oblivious to the sudden change in your demeanor. “why don’t you take a break?,” he sighs, “i can’t baby, i gotta finish at least two songs today,” “but i need you,” you confess quietly and he can’t help but lovingly shake his head at your behavior, “later, okay?,” he says. shutting you up with a gentle kiss.

it didn’t help.

“can i just…sit on it?,” “huh?” “pleaseee, i promise i won’t move, just need to feel you,” you whine and god, as strong as he is, he is not that strong. not when his pretty girl is begging. “okay,” he agrees.

he watched you pump him a couple times, trying to hold back his moans, the warmth of your hands already sending him into a frenzy, before you properly situated yourself on him. the inital entrance making you both groan in pleasure, “fuckkk baby, you’re so wet,” he grunts, trying to keep his composure, “told you i need youu,” you soflty whine against his ear.

mark rocks into you once before you stop him, eyes bewildered, “nu-uh markie, aren’t you supposed to be working?,” you pout, innocently teasing him and he knew he fucked up. this is so fucked up. you are so fucked up and so fucking warm and he is so turned on.

but mark has rules and he can’t break it.

“right,” he gulps, turning his attention back to his computer as you laid your head against his chest, making yourself comfortable. he tries not to focus on how good you feel around him but you can feel it with the way he was getting harder every second, making your pussy clench.

“fuuck, baby,” he groans, “that’s not fair, you said you wouldn’t move,” he whines, causing you to giggle. “i didn’t move, you’re the one moving inside me, my body just reacted to yours,” you tease.

his ears are bright red now as he breathes in slowly, trying so hard to stay in control. you bite back your giggles as he shakes his head, turning his attention back to his computer once more.

for a couple minutes he was doing fine, he actually felt a little more inspired and besides the light snores beside him and his rock hard boner that was currently inside you, he has gotten pretty good at ignoring your presence.

and then he dropped his stupid fucking pen…causing him to jolt forward, reaching out for it. the sudden motion elicits a moan from your lips and the friction the movement made was enough for mark to lose his shit. he did last almost an hour.

“fuck it,” he groans, slamming his laptop shut.

rules were meant to be broken.

he harshly rocks into you again, waking you up from your light slumber, “mark?,” “you just couldn’t wait can't you…just had to be a greedy little slut” he grunts, the comment sending tingles all throughout your body, pussy clenching tightly around his cock.

the pent up tension has gotten to his brain as he grabs your face, connecting his lips upon yours, tongue’s battling, swallowing every moan that you make.

you have won.

“y-yes markie, only for you,” you whine, a small smile on your lips, rocking your hips against his cock.

“faster, markie,” you whine. he pushes you off, making you stand before turning you around and pushing you down his table, ass up. he wastes no time in sliding back into you, pounding into you like a man starved, not caring at all about his laptop.

“this is what you wanted isn’t?,” he groans near your ear.

“fuuuck!, mark!,” you yell, gripping the edge of his computer table. he angles his cock to the side, hitting you right where you needed him the most as profanities slipped past your lips, no longer able to create coherent sentences.

“yeah, you like that baby?,” mark groans, landing a slap on your ass, making you clench even tighter around him, your body responding to everything he does.

your release came fast, hitting you like a ton of bricks. mark makes sure to grab onto you tighter as you lost your footing, not at all slowing down the relentless pace he has set.

tears has begun to form around your eyes, cries of pleasure taking over all of his senses, “hang on baby, i’m so close,” he groans, hand finding its way to your sensitive bud, making you scream in pleasure.

“you can give me one more, right?,” he demands, still rutting into you at a brutal pace. you’re so cock drunk all you can do is nod your head, feeling your second orgasm come to a close, this one hitting harder than before, “you feel so. fucking. good,” he groans with every thrust, as he feels his orgasm coming through.

quickly, he turns you around, on your knees, one hand clutching your hair the other pumping his cock getting ready to shoot his load into your mouth. you moan, enjoying every drop, licking his cock clean as he sat back down on his computer chair catching his breath, fingers gently running through your hair as you two share a smile.

that was definitely worth breaking his rule. just this one time.

-

but now as you stood in front of your vanity mirror, finishing up your skincare, towel discarded, leaving your naked body out in the open, your boyfriend’s hands find its way around your waist, hugging you from behind as he nestled into your neck, “baby,”

you push away the smirk that was begging to appear on your face, you knew mark couldn’t last this long but you weren’t about to give into him that easily, “hmm?,” you feign innocence, pretending you don’t feel the hard-on he was currently sporting, hidden under the towel around his waist.

“i’m sorry baby,” he softly mumbles, lips against your neck. his finger starts to outline the curve of your spine down to your ass, a trail of goosebumps following the touch of his skin, “i tried,” he groans, squeezing your ass, “i just can’t help myself,” his hand make its way around, cupping your pussy, legs instinctively parting open as his finger slides down your wet folds, teasing your hole before gently pushing you down your vanity. you don’t fight it, elbows coming in contact with the table as you watched the scene unfold in your mirror, letting him know that he could use you as much as he wanted, “need you so bad,” he breathily groans, finally discarding his towel, tossing it to the side, and positioning his cock at your entrance. he slides in painfully slowly, relishing in your tight walls, hands gripped on either side of your hips as his eyes roll back, lips parted slightly, a sigh of pleasure at the feeling of your warm cunt all around his cock, “love being inside you,” he praises, sliding all the way back out, until only his tip was at the entrance before harshly pounding back into you, making your back arch at the sudden change in force, a cry of his name slipping past your lips. he loves it. the way you react to him. he starts rocking his hips, setting a slow pace, making you feel every vein in his cock twitch as he pushes in deeper and deeper, each time hitting that spot that makes you feel lightweight, head in the clouds, “do that thing that you do, baby please,” he whines desperately, pussy immediately clenching around him making his movements stutter as he tried to stay in control of his own body.

“hey y/n, nervous?,” he walks in the set, dimples on display.

“a little bit,” you confess, “but i trust you.”

he responds with a soft smile, giving you a small nod, “let’s do our best today.”

today was the scene — the scene where your characters come together for the first time, finally letting go of all the built up tension between them. a white button up polo and a black tight skirt hugs your body meanwhile jaehyun was dressed in a black suit. the office set ready to go.

setting - office. everyone else has gone home leaving your two characters, alone, in the night.

3, 2, 1, lights, camera…ACTION!

you walk over to jaehyun’s character sitting on his computer chair, lazily leaned back, legs wide open, his back to his desk. he watches you intently with a dark gaze in his eyes as you inch closer and closer to his face, teasing him.

“kiss me,” jaehyun says, sticking to the script.

“if i kiss you, i win,” you taunt, character teasing his.

“you win,” he agrees, whispering against your lips, earning a smirk of victory from you.

finally, you connect the space in between you, lips landing on his, before quickly pulling away. soft gazes interlocked, dramatic pause. jaehyun’s hand gently makes its way to the back of your head, pulling you in again as he takes the lead, deepening the kiss.

just as practiced, his hands go to your hips, pulling you down on to him as you rested your knees on his sides, capturing him in between your thighs, fitting in the small office chair. the make out session grows heavier and heavier, tongues battling — combination of spearmint and cherry chapstick making you addicted.

he slowly starts unbuttoning your top, lacy black bra coming into view, as his lips connected with your collarbones, gently sucking. “you don’t know how long i've been wanting to do this,” he says, the line coming out perfectly as he completely discards your shirt, leaving kisses on the top of your breasts.

your body responds to his actions, instinctively grinding down on him, clothed core coming into contact with his hard length, stomach tingling with arousal. jaehyun can’t help but release a strangled groan at your unexpected movement, the noise going straight to your head. this was not part of the script but he doesn’t break, he’ll play along with your improvisation. his large hands immediately go to your ass, cupping them with a light squeeze, cold fingertips making you whine against his ear, cock twitching in response.

as scripted, he picks you up carefully, lips messily clashing back together, before turning around and placing you on the computer desk, his body tucked in between your hips. you briefly pull away as he yanks his black tie off of his neck, your hand quickly unbuttoning his shirt and dropping it to the floor. your characters share a cheeky smile as you grab his trousers, pulling him towards you.

you unzip his pants, making it fall to the bottom of his legs, boxers soon to follow, leaving jaehyun standing there, naked, a piece of tiny cloth covering his large member, the camera angling right behind him now, a perfect shot of his ass into view, your legs wrapped around him, skirt hitched up.

and just like what you practiced, the choreography starts coming to life, jaehyun pulls down your panties, leaving you in the tiny cloth that covers your cunt before “thrusting” into you, his hands roughly grabbing your hips, as you release fake grunts and moans.

it was all an act, yet it was hard to ignore his rock hard boner and the cloth that was starting to stick to your cunt, pooling with your arousal, as you continued to dry hump your co-star.

“you. feel. so. good,” jaehyun grunts with each thrust. that was not a line in the script but at this point, who gives a fuck.

his lips were back on yours as you swallowed each other’s moans, sucking noises and teeth clashing accompanied with your heavy breathing was the only thing that could be heard throughout the set, the crew watching attentively, focused on the intense scene.

the table below you starts squeaking from the movement, moans becoming more real with every second that passes.

you grab onto jaehyun’s shoulders pulling him even closer to you, body heat radiating onto you as his thrusts get messier and messier. deep grunts resonating in your ear as you feel your arousal stain the cloths in between you.

“f-fuck i’m gonna cum,” jaehyun grunts, his body shaking, his grip on your hips tightening and then you feel it…the wetness of his release sticking in between your thighs. he actually came.

jaehyun quickly pulls away, eyes in quiet shock at his own actions as you both try to calm your composure, breathing heavily, now very much aware of the crowd around you.

he tries moving away but you keep him in place, afraid that the crew behind him would see the mess he has left behind. your eyes subtly dart down to your discarded clothing, silently communicating with him.

“okay, CUT!,” the director yells, snapping you both into place as jaehyun quickly removes himself from your space, gently pulling your skirt back down as you swiftly cross your legs together.

he quickly pulls his pants back up, before facing the crew, hoping that no one could see the wet spot that has tainted his protection cloth and is now dripping down his leg. handing you back your shirt, you cover yourself up, standing next to him, thighs sticking together, awaiting further instructions.

“i yelled cut 10 minutes ago but you guys didn’t hear me,” the director chuckled as the both of you stood there, ears bright red, smiling sheepishly, “amazing job, that felt really real, we’ll use that one” she says, clapping. the entire crew cheering at the one shot one take – it was very real, but only you and jaehyun knew that.

“that’s a wrap for today,” she ends the scene as you and jaehyun walk off the set quietly, the sexual tension in the air lingering.

once you were out of earshot, jaehyun pulled you to the side, “sorry about that, i got too caught up i guess,” he apologizes, ears burning red, refusing to make eye contact.

“it's okay,” you reassured him, “i didn’t let you do anything that i didn’t want to do,” you quietly responded, your answer giving him back his confidence.

“oh, really?,” he teases, dimples coming out to play.

“really…i-i liked it,” you confess, making him grin even wider as he took a step towards you, figure completely towering over you, before whispering, “how about i return the favor in my dressing room and make you cum, pretty girl?,” your breath hitches in your throat, the stickiness in your thighs becoming very evident as the excitement bubbles through you again.

“would you like that, pretty?,” he whispers, landing a soft kiss on your neck. you grab on to his hand, leading him to the direction of his trailer, a deep chuckle coming from the boy next to you.

jaehyun immediately gets to work as soon as you were in the safety of his room, locking the door and pushing you up against the wall, lips quickly back in yours, “you taste so good, i fucking love kissing scenes with you,” he confesses, earning a whine of approval from you.

“jump,” he orders. you jump, wrapping your legs around his torso as he picks you up, placing you on his table, getting on his knees, face finding his spot in between your legs. he pushes your skirt back up and finally takes off the barrier, the cold air hitting your pussy before his tongue swipes through your folds, making you sigh in pleasure.

“so fucking wet,” he moans against your pussy, “is this all for me, pretty?,” he teases, lapping up your juices.

“a-all for you, jaehyun,” you whine, hips desperately arching up to meet his lips. he furiously licks your folds, moving his face up and down, sharp nose rubbing on your clit.

“just like that jaehyun, please don't stop,” you cry out in a whine, the pleasure building in your stomach, hands harshly gripping his hair making him moan, the vibration sending tingles all throughout your body.

he continues licking up and down your folds, tongue going in and out of your hole, swirling and sucking around your sensitive bud again and again.

the lewd noises turns him on, his own hand immediately going straight to his hard cock, pumping himself to your whiny moans that were filling up the room.

your breathing becomes heavier and heavier, messily thrusting your hips up to his face, desperate for release as he pumps his cock faster and faster, matching the rhythm of his tongue against your pussy.

“i’m cumming, i’m cumming,” you repeat like it was a mantra, eyes closing, head falling back against his dressing mirror. jaehyun quickened the pace on his dick, pumping harshly, wanting to come with you. your body goes slack as your release takes over, body shaking with pleasure.

jaehyun’s free hand goes straight to your thigh keeping you open for him as he continues to collect your juices, making sure he cleans up every drop. your pussy stifling his groans as he cums in his pants once again.

you push him away, the overstimulation getting to you and he makes his way back to your lips, kissing you slowly. you taste yourself on his tongue. his fingers filled with his juices come in contact with your lips and you don’t waste a second licking it off of him, gently sucking on his fingertips.

“all that, and you haven’t even touched me yet, god, you drive me crazy, pretty girl” he confesses, kissing you once again, carefully pulling your skirt back down to cover you.

“i want to touch you,” you plead, pulling his trousers towards you again, just like the scene but he steps away before you can pull it off him, clicking his tongue, head shaking no.

“how about you let me take you out on a real date first, pretty girl?,” he asks, a playful smirk on his lips and your heart swoons, a soft smile growing on your features.

he was a gentleman after all and you weren’t the only one crushin’ on him.

“i would love that,” you agree, pulling him towards you for another kiss.

and there you were, curled up into his side of the bed, chest rising and falling in that gentle rhythm, legs wrapped around a pillow. his shirt on your skin rises a little, giving him a peek of your lacy pink underwear.

god, he missed you.

missed your body. your warmth. your presence. the little things. your hums when you think, the way your fingers trace patterns on his back when you’re half-asleep, the way you fit perfectly in his arms like he was made for you and only you.

he changes out of his clothes, slipping on his grey sweats, before finally joining you in bed, pulling your back to his chest. you stir a tiny bit, a hum slipping from your lips.

mark breathes you in like he’s been starved of you, the warmth of your body, the scent of your shampoo all intoxicating him like a sweet drug he couldn’t get enough of.

“baby,” he murmurs against your skin, lips brushing the shell of your ear, “i missed you so much,” he whispers, leaving soft, ghostly kisses on the back of your neck. your body shifts a little closer to him, like it recognizes him before your mind could even catch up.

mark leans in, pressing a trail of kisses along your shoulder, his voice low and raw with affection, “i hate being away from you,” his cold fingertips wander under your shirt, exploring the familiar curve of your waist, tracing lazy circles with his fingertips, “—feels like i leave a part of myself every time.”

you shift again, sighing as your hips nudge back into him, the faintest sign that your dreams are starting to blur into something warmer, something more aware.

mark holds you closer, his need pressed against the curve of your backside. “need you so bad, baby…do you feel it?,” his hand wanders down your thighs, body responding to his touch with a million goosebumps.

his fingers dipped into your underwear, feeling your slick, “god, you’re dripping,” his cock twitches at the idea that even in sleep, you were all his, “i’ll take care of you baby, don’t worry,” dropping a kiss to your shoulder before carefully slipping your panties off of you, afraid to wake you up.

he slides his sweats down enough to free his hard cock, all ready and leaking for you, before situating himself behind you. his tip teases your warm hole before he finally slides in, a grunt falling from his lips, “fuucck baby, you feel so good,” he groans as he slowly starts rocking into you, earning a whine from your lips, eyes still shut closed, “gonna make you feel real good.”

he moves with care. everything he does is slow, intimate, meant only for you. his arm tightens around your waist, body molding to yours. your body responds naturally, instinctively, the way it always has for him. your hips shift, your breath quickens, your fingers curl into the pillow beneath your head. he moves within you in a rhythm that’s steady, tender, like he’s not just chasing pleasure but holding onto something more sacred. his aching cock kissing that spot over and over again.

“almost there, baby,” he whispers, voice completely wrecked, lips pressed to the back of your neck, his fingers make his way around, rubbing soft circles on your sensitive bud, “i’ve got you. just let go.”

and as if it was like his voice was your body’s command. you do. he feels your release all around him, “so fucking perfect baby, you’re doing so well,” he manages to breathe out, his eyes shutting in bliss as your pussy sucks around him incredibly tight, a sharp intake of breath from your unconscious lips, a tiny whine of his name even in dreams. it’s not loud. it’s not wild. it’s the kind of release that comes when you feel completely safe, completely his.

mark follows soon after, hips stuttering, a groan tearing from his throat as he holds you close and lets himself fall apart with you. his face buries into your shoulder, his breath warm and shaky against your skin.

when it’s over, he doesn’t pull away. he just holds you tighter, still inside you, still wrapped around you like he’s afraid the world might take you away if he loosens his grip even a little.

your fingers find his, where they rest gently across your stomach, your smaller hand curling around his in that soft, instinctive way you always do when you’re half-asleep but still reaching for him.

“don’t leave,” you whisper, voice thick with sleep and love. he presses a kiss to your skin, one to your shoulder, another to your neck, then another, and another. each one soft, unhurried, like a love letter written in touch.

“not going anywhere” he murmurs, lips brushing your temple. “go back to sleep, baby, i’m here.” you nod faintly, body already melting into him again, boneless and safe. mark stays inside you, your bodies pressed close, your fingers still woven with his. he can feel your heartbeat under his hand, slow, steady, calming.

as your breathing deepens, your body relaxes fully into his, he knows you’ve slipped into REM…that precious, vulnerable stage of sleep where your mind begins to dream and your heart can truly rest.

his chest rises and falls in time with yours, and as the minutes stretch, his own thoughts begin to fade into the haze of contentment, into the quiet hum of your shared rhythm.

still inside you. still holding you.

—

*7 dream, 1 cup*

jisung: hypothetically…

haechan: i’m sleeping.

jisung: if u find a hypothetical hello kitty vibrator in ur girl’s hypothetical drawer, does that mean ur bad at sex…hypothetically?

haechan: im up

chenle: yes

mark: no

jisung: mark pls elaborate

chenle: fuck u how about me?

jisung: idgaf about ur opinion!

haechan: yeah! wdgaf!

chenle: k. all im saying is my girl doesn’t need a vibrator with how good my dick is

mark: don’t listen to him, think of the vibrator as your friend 🙂‍↕️

jisung: this isn’t about me! it’s hypothetical!

haechan: yeah, i agree with mark … my girl and i tried it last month and 😩😮‍💨🤯🪦💐🕊️☁️👼👍

mark: too much unwanted information about ur sex life but yeah same here, felt like i died and went to heaven for a split second too

haechan: omg what type of vibrator ur girl got? 😛

mark: not telling you

haechan: ☹️

chenle: real men used to go to war for pussy now they let a battery operated device beat them at sex

haechan: stfu chenle u know nothing!

mark: real men used to go to war for pussy now they’re scared once their girl touches a vibrator she’ll never need his dick again

haechan: ooooohhhh get him!

*chenle has left the gc*

haechan: dramatic ass bitch, no one add him back!

jeno: what’s happening here?

*renjun has added chenle to the gc*

mark: couldn’t even last a second 😂

haechan: renjun you traitor!

renjun: i actually don’t give a fuck!, jisung just go talk to your girlfriend about it for the love of god! and chenle stop messaging me!

chenle: just ordered a vibrator, gonna prove to yall that my girl don’t need that shit

haechan: which one did u get? u want recs? 🤓

jaemin: jisung can you ask y/n where she got her hello kitty vibrator so i can get one for my girl? 🥺

jisung: this is not about y/n!

—

he sighs in frustration, his friends were absolutely no help but he was more at ease knowing that their girlfriends had one too. taking renjun’s advice, he decides to just talk to you about it but he couldn’t find a way to do so.

he stays there on your bed googling how to ask your gf if you're bad at sex?, until his phone died, leaving him staring at the wall.

you entered the room, eyeing him suspiciously, he was supposed to be back in the living room 30 minutes ago, it doesn’t take that long to grab your charger, “you okay?” you ask.

“amibadatsex?,” he quickly blurts out, brain completely shutting down.

“what?,”

“am i bad at sex?,”

“what?! no!,”

“oh…”

“is there a reason why you’re asking this?,”

“i uhm…found your vibrator”

your cheeks heat up in embarrassment, “oh my god jisung, why were you snooping through my stuff!?”

“i wasn’t! i was just looking for your charger, i swear!,” he nervously explains, eyes almost bulging out of their sockets.

“i-i got one when you were on tour,” you confessed, cheeks still pink from this conversation.

“oh…,”

”yeah…” you look down at your feet, just wanting the ground to open up, swallow you whole and take you away from this conversation.

jisung walks over to where you were standing, gently turning your face towards him, “you don’t have to be embarrassed baby but can you please tell me why?, i don’t feel too good about it,” he reveals his insecurity and you knew you had to clear things up.

“i just- i couldn’t cum with my fingers alone anymore…i needed yours but of course that wasn’t possible so i decided to try it out”

he feels his pants tighten at your confession. the image of you getting frustrated at not being able to cum without him going straight to his cock.

“did it work?,”

“uhm yeah, it actually did….but it can never make me feel the way you do,” you admit, easing his worries.

he thinks back to what mark and haechan said. “can i try it?,”

“huh? i mean sure, i don’t know what it would feel like for you though,”

“oh my god no….can i try it on you?,”

“oh…like you’re gonna use it on me?,”

“yeah, can i play with you?,”

“oh o-okay,”

slowly you walk over, grabbing the vibrator out of your drawer and handing it to him, nerves of excitement bubbling through you.

“how does it work?,” he asks, inspecting the pink device again.

“well, it has 8 different vibrations, i usually just use the first 3, they feel the best for me and well you just place it where you would usually touch me,” you explain and he nods attentively.

“sit down,” he backs you into your bed, voice going an octave deeper and all you can do is follow his order.

sitting on the edge of your bed, jisung kneels down right in front of your core, you watch him, feeling yourself getting more turned on with every second that passes.

he pulls your shorts down, hips automatically raising up, before diving back into your clothed core, breathing in your scent and pulling your panties to the side, “you’re already so wet baby,” he praises licking a strip down your folds. there’s no way your vibrator is going to taste you before he does.

“does it turn you on knowing what i'm about to do?,”

you moan in response pussy clenching at nothing, “stop teasing sung please,”

jisung clicks the device once, the vibration hitting your ears in the quiet room, quickly pushing it on your cunt. you hiss at the first contact and he pulls it away, afraid he had hurt you, “what? what happened? are you okay?,”

“im okay sungie it was just too much too quick,” you smile, “here,” you guide him back to your pussy, “just push it lightly first, let me get used to it,” he does so, moving your vibrator in slow circles until it finally hit you at the righ spot, “ohhh, f-fuck,” you moan. jisung takes note of it, placing it there again earning another whine from you, “r-right there, baby, turn it up”

he clicks it again, the device gaining more speed before placing it back on your wet pussy, “oh my god!,” you moan, hand clutching his t-shirt, pussy clenching around air, “f-feel what im feeling baby,” you say, grabbing his other hand and leading it right to your hole. his fingers disappearing in you, “you’re so fucking tight,” he compliments in awe.

with the way he has curled his finger repetitively hitting that spot you can never seem to reach, the vibrator humming against your clit, your body gives in quicker than usual, “i-im cumming, baby i-dont stop, keep it right there,” you moan, pushing his hand harder, the added pressure finally sending you to release, back hitting your bedsheets, eyes rolling back. jisung watches in amazement, collecting the juices with his tongue making you whine.

all he could think about is if you were that tight around his finger, how would you feel around his throbbing cock.

“i need to feel you,” he makes his way over to you, soft lips landing on yours as you taste yourself in his tongue. he pushes his body on top of yours, making you feel his hard member, “you feel that baby? that’s how much i need you”

you swiftly discard his tight jeans, freeing him from his boxers, large cock springing up to his stomach. reaching for the condom in your nightstand, you place it on him, he moans at the squeeze of your hand, his rock hard boner somehow getting harder and you start getting worried. his cock was always enough to make you see stars but with the added vibrations you’re not too sure if you could take it.

you didn’t have much time to dwell on it as he lined up against your core, slowly entering you, moans mixing in the air.

“fuck jisung, y-you’re so big,”

“baby,” he grunts, rocking into you, your wet pussy making it easy for him to slide in and out.

he grabs your vibrator again, clicking it on and placing it back on your clit, pussy immediately tightening around him. he groans as you pull him closer and closer towards you, the vibration going straight to his cock, “holy fuck,” he gasps at the new sensation.

“f-feels so good sungie,” you whine against his ear, hips meeting his every thrust, getting quicker and quicker. the rest of your clothes being thrown across the room. you grab onto his back for support.

with his body against you and yours still being sensitive from your previous orgasm, jisung feels you cum hard. you were so fucking tight around his dick, it all feels too good. his lips swallow your moans as he continues his actions, desperately chasing his release.

“j-jisung” you gasp in pain, vibrator still placed firmly on your clit, but your boyfriend’s thrusts were getting messier and messier, signaling his nearing orgasm, and you wanted him to cum just as hard.

soon enough the pain turned into pleasure, a new commotion stirring up in your stomach, down to your toes. you no longer understand the feeling that’s taking over.

your vibrator has made you cum so many times before but you never felt it work with your boyfriend’s dick — this was entirely new territory.

“f-fuck, j-jisung, i’m gonna-,” you scream at the overstimulation, legs shaking, toes curling and before you knew it your pussy pushed him away, juices squirting onto his belly.

“holy shit babe,” he groans, the action sends jisung into overdrive, watching it all unfold as his release quickly fills up the condom, “aghhh,” he grunts in pleasure, body going slack on yours as you tried to calm your racing hearts.

“what just happened?,” he asks in amazement.

“i-i think i just squirted,”

“you think?”

“i think so, i-i don't know, it's never happened before,” you confess, getting embarrassed. he can’t help but smirk proudly, knowing that he was the first and only person to get you to do that.

jisung kisses you before you have the chance to hide behind your embarrassment.

“that was so. fucking. hot,” he compliments in between kisses” let’s do it again”

—

he finally finds your charger on top of your desk, his phone coming alive. in just a span of 2 hours he and his new friend have made you cum a total of 6 times, him 4, the room smelling of sex. and honestly he could go again but you have made him stop for now, body exhausted.

*7 dream, 1 cup*

jisung: hi chat

haechan: he’s alive! so how was it? tell us everything! 😏

chenle: no one cares

haechan: i care!

mark: yo dude u good? you just stopped responding

jisung: sorry, phone died

jisung: can confirm

jisung: 😩😮‍💨🤯🪦💐🕊️☁️👼👍

*haechan reacted 🤩 to your message*

*mark reacted 😂 to your message*

renjun: you’re welcome

chenle: just paid for expedited shipping yall better not be lying to me rn

jaemin: jisung did you ever ask y/n where she got it?

jisung: oh it’s at www.NowCummingToday.com/sanriocollab-hellokitty-vibrator

jaemin: thank you!! 😚

renjun: that can’t be a real site

jeno: holy shit they have so many options

chenle: robots are gonna take over my girls pussy and it’s your faults

haechan: ooh! try the rose toy! that one’s crazy ahaha 🤓

jisung: 🫡

mark: 🫡

jaemin: 🫡

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