#renjun x reader

𝗺𝗮𝗿𝗸.

“begged someone to let me finish”

mark’s sheets were rustled and messy beneath you, the warm colored light pouring in from the sunset through his window. you’re straddling him, riding him deep and slow, and his hands were gripping your thighs like it’s the only thing that kept him from losing it.“baby,” he whines in a broken voice, “please—can i come? please?” you grin, leaning down to pepper kisses to his jaw. “i don’t know, markie. you just look so pretty like this.” he bucks up into you helplessly, already so close. so close, his cock was twitching inside you. “babe—fuck—i’ve been good baby, i need to—” you stop the movement of your hips entirely, just to hear him whimper beneath you. “then beg for it,” you whisper, tone low and seductive. mark knew he wasn’t above it, especially not when he needed it so bad. “please, sweetheart,” he gasps, completely wrecked. “please let me come. i wanna—wanna fill you up—please…” “so pretty when you beg,” you praise softly. “so good. again.” “babe,” he gasps, grabbing at your hips, “i’m serious—i’m gonna—if you keep going like that i—” you grind down on him only once more and he breaks. his hands fly to your hips, his breath staggered, and he comes with a loud, whiny moan, spilling warm inside you while his whole body convulses under yours. you lean down to kiss him slow, smiling against his lips. “good boy.” mark groans again softly, head falling back against the pillow, a fucked out mess. “…i hate how much i liked that.”

𝗿𝗲𝗻𝗷𝘂𝗻.

“came in my pants”

you were comfortably straddling renjun on the couch, hands tangled in his hair, your hips rolling slow against his. it started off truthfully playful. just a few teasing touches, soft kisses, but now you were both breathing heavier, grinding into each other like you couldn’t help it. his hands grip your waist tighter and tighter, jaw clenched hard, head falling back against the cushions of the couch. “shit—baby—don’t stop,” he gasps, hips rocking up to meet yours every time. you can feel him easily through his sweatpants, warm and throbbing with need. the fabric between you was soaked from you rubbing on his lap. the pressure between you was just right, and he was close. too close. “so worked up already?” you tease, kissing up his neck to whisper in his ear. “that desperate for me?” “shut up,” he whines. “i can’t—i-i’m—” and then it happens. his hips stutter a jerk, breath catching in his throat as he comes hard in his pants, warmth spilling out between you. it soaked through the soft cotton of his sweats and against your own thin shorts. he lets out a moan, body tensing, arms tightening around your hips as he buries his face in your neck. “…fuck, i’m sorry,” he mumbles, voice muffled. “couldn’t hold it…” you shift your hips just a little and feel the mess in his pants, sticky and hot between you both. you smirk, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “don’t be sorry, baby,” you whisper. “came so good for me.”

𝗷𝗲𝗻𝗼.

“talked someone through touching themself”

“jen, i—” you start, eyes fluttering as your hand dips beneath your panties already. “shh,” he says, low and honey-toned over the phone. “i know, baby. i know you need it.” his phone was angled just right to show his hand lazily stroking himself, but his voice stays focused and firm for you. “put two fingers on your clit,” he murmurs. “slow. gentle.” you follow immediately without hesitating, gasping softly as you slide over your clit. “good,” he praises, voice already huskier. “that’s it. just like that.” you moan, thighs tensing and parting wider as your back arches a little. he watches everything; the way your lips part, the way your brows pull together, the motion of your fingers. “don’t rush,” he warns, hand still moving over himself, his grip a little tighter. “wanna watch you fall apart. slowly, baby.” you whimper his name softly, hips rocking up into your fingers. his voice drops even lower, almost ragged. “go deeper, baby. how would i touch you if i was there?” you bite your lip, sliding your fingers down and into your needy hole. two fingers pumping in and out, then three, messy and soaking. “fuuck,” he groans. “look at you. so wet just from my voice.” you pant harder, eyes hazing over now. at this point you were whining his name again as your fingers inside you faster. “you gonna come for me?” he asks, thumb brushing over his tip just like you would. “come on, baby. let me hear you. be good for me—” your back arches, mouth falling open, and you come with a trembling gasp, hips spasming into your hand. your skin flushed and damp with a sheer layer of sweat. jeno exhales through a grin, stroking himself faster now, like hearing your moans was all he needed. “good girl,” he says, low and warm. “that’s my baby.”

𝗵𝗮𝗲𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗻.

“had someone sit on my face”

you barely made it to your bedroom before haechan was tugging at your pants. his eyes were low, looking at you with a lazy grin. “sit on my face,” he said so casually, like it wasn’t the filthiest thing you’d heard all day. you blinked at him, half-laughing. “baby, i don’t wanna suffocate you.” he grinned even wider, already lying back on the mattress, hands behind his head. “damn good way to go.” his hands didn’t give you time to argue, pulling you up, and settled you over his mouth. before you could even adjust, his tongue was right there. hot and wet, dragging through your folds. he held your panties to the side and was teasing your clit in slow, gliding circles. he groaned against you, hands kneading your thighs, holding you down like he wanted to drown in you. now your thighs were shaking around his head, your puffy pussy pressed against his face, and his hands were gripping your ass like it’s the only thing he needed. your hips roll instinctively, and he whined deep into you like he lives for this. his tongue was relentless. continuously lapping at your folds, prodding your clit, dipping into you so deep you forget how to speak. “fuck—haechan—” you gasp, knuckles white as you grip the headboard for dear life. haechan pulls you down even harder to him, tongue burying deeper, and you cry out. coming faster than you ever have, thighs twitching and trembling on either side of his head. he doesn’t stop. not until you were relentlessly tugging at his hair, breathless and over sensitive, your legs barely holding you up. he pulls back finally, lips and chin glistening. and he was still grinning up at you like the smug little menace he is. “told you,” he pants, “best seat in the house.”

𝗷𝗮𝗲𝗺𝗶𝗻.

“got head in public”

jaemin tugged you down the hallway hurriedly, fingers firm around your wrist, eyes sharp with that needy expression. “jaem, someone’s gonna see—” “shh. no one’s around. it’ll be quick. promise.” he shoved open the dressing room door and you hardly heard the lock click before your back hit the wall, his lips crashing into yours. his hands were wandering freely. under your shirt, at waistband of your pants, tugging, squeezing, just hungry. “need you, baby,” he whispered, breath warm on your neck. “need your mouth.” and then he’s sinking you to your knees. his cock is already hard by the time you freed it from his jeans. thick and pulsing in your hand, precum already slicking his tip. he lets out a soft groan when your tongue flicks over it softly. one hand finding the back of your head. “yeah,” he breathes, hips bucking . “just like that.” you take him into your mouth deeper, feeling him throb on your tongue. “my good girl,” he whispers, eyes locked on you. more so, the way you took him so easily. “make me feel good, baby…” you moan around him, and he intakes a sharp breath, jaw clenched. the dressing room was quiet except for the wet, lewd sounds of your mouth and his heavy breaths, the occasional curse slipping past his lips when you suck a little harder, sloppier. he fucks into your mouth mainly slow, trying not to lose it too fast. it was a lot easier said than done though, the sight of you like this, knees on the hardwood knowing they would be red when you stood. your plump lips wrapped around him. the way your eyes rolled each time he hit the back of your throat. it was all too much. “fu—gonna come,” he pants, breath ragged. “you gonna swallow for me, pretty girl?” you hum a yes around him and that’s it. his hips shudder, fingers gripping your hair tightly as he spills down your throat with a low, lustful moan.

𝗰𝗵𝗲𝗻𝗹𝗲.

“given someone backshots”

it started with him watching you change. eyes dark, biting his lip until he finally grabbed your hips. “turn around.” he exhaled deeply trying to keep his composure. then bent you over the bed. chenle mutters again, already pulling at your clothes. “wanna see that ass.” he’s not shy about it, and never has been. he palms at your ass, spreads it in his hands, and growls like he’s starving. somehow, you ended up on your knees at the edge of the bed, hands gripping the sheets, and when he slides in from behind, pressing deeply, he groans a breathless, “fuck—” like it never gets old. like it’s the movie he could watch over and over and never get bored. and then he starts moving. his hips snap against yours, unforgiving and needy, the slap of skin echoing through the room. one of his hands grips your waist tight, the other smoothes over your ass, fingers digging in every time you clench around him. “look at you,” he pants, voice cracked open with lust. “so fuckin’ good like this—made just for me.” you moan something back, something incoherent and desperate, but he’s already too lost to tease you. he comes first, his hips rocking into you as he looses his rhythm. chenle’s breath hitches as he empties inside you with an overwhelmed moan, but doesn’t stop. just groans again and keeps going, already getting hard again from how tight you still feel, how pretty you sound. “gonna make you come now, yeah?” he breathes out, cock twitching deep inside you. “don’t worry, baby. i’m not done.” his pace picks right back up, and you swear it’s even deeper this time. rougher, messier, as his grip bruising your hips like he’ll never let go.

𝗷𝗶𝘀𝘂𝗻𝗴.

“made someone come twice in a row, back to back”

MARK

the first time you suddenly grab his face or smother him, he jumps. full startled laugh, eyes wide like, “oh...oh...- okay,” energy. but the moment he realizes it’s just you, that this was how your affection spiked, he’s done for. from then on, he just lets it happen. whatever you want. squish, bite, cling, he’s smiling softly, hands hovering like he doesn’t want to interrupt the moment.

he'll notice the way you stare a little too long, the way your hands flex like you’re holding yourself back. sometimes he’ll quietly step closer, lowering his head just enough for you to reach. when you squish his cheeks or press kisses everywhere, he just melts into it. he doesn’t interrupt. doesn’t tease. he just lets you love him. your affection genuinely feeds his own for you.

RENJUN

he's startled? yes. offended? also yes (performative men sighh)

you baby him, squish his cheeks, and he’s immediately like,“why are you doing this to me?” in his whiny voice :( but he never actually moves away. ever. your fingers in his hair, your hands warm against his cheeks, he pretends it’s annoying, he pretends to hate it, pretends you’re being ridiculous, but his hands relax, his shoulders drop, and his voice softens despite himself. he enjoys your touch deeply, he just refused to give you the satisfaction of knowing.

JENO

surprised puppy^^

the first few times, he’s stunned, eyes blinking, like he didn’t know he’d like being adored this openly. he wasn't used to this kind of affection.

but then he starts recognizing the signs fast. the way you inhale before acting. the tiny pause before you pounce. and he'd give you that soft, moon-eyed smile :(( right before you pounce almost like encouragement sobbing

he doesn’t stop you. just lets it happen and adores it. to him it's like your constant reminder that he's loved. and only you get this version of him <//3

HAECHAN

absolutely insufferable.

he never lets you forget he knows what he’s doing to you. the second you get grabby, he’s running his mouth, “wow, you love me that much?”, “what are you gonna do without me, huh?”

that smug little grin of his never leaves but his hands always find you. pulling you closer. keeping you there. he'll get pouty and exaggerate every reaction because he knows it makes you worse, and he wants you worse. he thrives on your attention, your affection, your inability to resist him. but like mark, this genuinely fuels his own affection for you <3

he's dramatic about you and he loves how obvious you are about him. later, when you’re calm again, he’s softer. quieter. though still smug. he feels chosen. and he loves that feeling more than he’ll ever admit.

JAEMIN

he lived for this.

you touch him and he’s already smiling, already leaning in. he knows he causes this reaction in you and he’s so fondly proud of it and knows exactly how to make it worse.

you squish his face? he squishes himself closer. you bite his cheek? he makes a noise dramatic enough for you to do it again.

will absolutely switch on his soft tone, that sweet voice, fully encouraging your cuteness aggression because he loves you loving him. (he's absolutely shameless with it). he just adores you so much genuinely gets cuteness aggression from the way how you get all fuzzy over him :(( he thinks it's the cutest thing ever and after a point it'll be you who's getting squished by him ^^

CHENLE

did not see it coming the first time.

you squish him once and he bursts into laughter, startled but bright, like joy just spilled out of him ☹️

he'll try to act unfazed later though, tries to act cool, but you read him too easily. but now, he gets giddy when you focus on him. tries to act casual, but the second your attention shifts away for too long, he gets a little sulky (rarely an issue) not angry, just needy in that soft, obvious way. he wants your eyes on him. your hands on him. he never doubts your love. he feels it constantly. and he returns it just as openly <3

JISUNG

shy baby :(((

total short-circuit, red ears, brain offline the first time it happened. he’s more used to it now, can even sense when you’re about to do it, but he never stops being shy about it.

he stays shy, always. hands hovering awkwardly, eyes darting away, but he never refuses you. when you smother him with affection, he leans in quietly. and while you’re busy squishing his cheeks or pulling at him, he’s thinking you’re the cutest thing he’s ever seen. quietly hopes you'll do it again soon <//3

...!

that's the case with you. it's innocent at first, he's the vancouver boy whom just moved to seoul. little boy hiding behind his mother's legs as she introduces him to you.

at first, you're the one who had to put in the effort to play with him, dragging him to playgrounds and making him play with you in the sandboxes. or making him push you on the swings. and then it becomes easy, mark happily tagging along in your mischiefs, from tip-toeing down the stairs at midnight to eat chocolate chip cookies to sneaking out of windows to go to parties.

mark's always been so sweet — extra sweet to you, as everybody keeps saying. carries your school bag if it's too heavy, lets you have the last piece of donut, and gives you the most thoughtful gifts ever. you always say it's just mark being mark though everyone swears it's special treatment.

it's clear in the way that he looks at you, the tips of his ears going red everytime a compliment slips past your lips. or when he blushes and does anything you ask if you batted your eyelashes and kissed his cheek.

"you need to stop kissing me to get what you want!"

"but it works and you loveee me."

right. love. mark swears that it's just platonic at first, until he finds you giggling and kicking your feet on your bed, telling him all about this boyfriend of yours.

that's when mark realizes that perhaps, his feelings are deeper than he thought it was. secretly prays that your boyfriend fucks up and he swears he tried his best to conceal his excitement when you told him that you got dumped but honestly you saw the way he bit his lip to stop himself from smiling.

and in his typical mark fashion, his confession came in the form of flowers and a two-paged letter on how he feels. cliche, but cute.

#huang renjun: history tutor.

"how the hell are you failing a university subject?"

"because i thought they weren't important and never paid attention!"

hwang renjun, the tutor your history professor assigned to you because of your failing grade. honestly, who paid attention to university core subjects? clearly, renjun does.

he's so knowledgeable, it's kind of sexy. at least when he's not busy lecturing you. the two of you bicker sometimes, but he's genuinely nice, always patient with you. you only bicker because you start the fights, really. and renjun's kind of easy to piss off. (really easy.)

your tutor session is every friday, at his place. starts off awkward, and then a lot of bickering, but over time, it became a routine — to a point where you start looking forward to fridays, and feeling slightly (extremely) upset every time he has to cancel.

renjun's super attentive. it doesn't take him long to figure out what kind of studying fits you best, how to make you focus and your preferred food.

every time you come over, he already has your favourite drink and snacks on the table, because he knows you won't cooperate without some sort of motivation. things start to get a little friendly — you'd start staying back after your tutor sessions, lounging on his couch as you watch a movie.

falling for him came naturally. telling him about it was casual, too — you had just finished dinner and you're resting your chin on your palms, staring at his face as he goes on his phone.

"you're really pretty, you know. wanna go on a date?"

"...if you get an A on the finals, i'll consider."

safe to say that you were extra thrilled to get that A. and you don't know this — but renjun would've said yes even if you failed, anyway.

#lee jeno: office romance.

jeno's the sweet, helpful, yet unattainable coworker of yours. absolutely everybody loves jeno, and that's the problem. you doubt that you have a chance.

you've asked your friends on if you should just ask him out on a date and everybody says no — jeno has a reputation of turning people down. in a sweet way too, which makes it nearly impossible to move on.

speaking of, he'd be hard to get over. he's just so kind to you! the first time he talked to you was during your first day at the company. you were kicking the printer and cussing it out for not working when he approached you and patiently helped. making a joke about how the printer's not a tv remote yet he stayed and helped despite you accidentally printing twenty copies of the same document.

or the time when it was raining heavily, when jeno caught you running towards your car without an umbrella. he caught up to you, shielded you from the rain and even gave you his jacket when you soaked through your shirt.

colleague jeno who defended you when your seniors bullied you into doing their work, and encouraged each of your ideas.

it came as a shock to you when he admitted to feeling the same. on a friday night, during a team dinner, jeno was driving a (very drunk) you home, his jacket covering your figure as a r&b song played in the background.

perhaps it was the comfortable environment, or perhaps it was the liquid courage — but the confession left your mouth easily.

"i've always wanted to ask you out, y'know — it's so hard though..."

"... and why didn't you? i would say yes."

#lee haechan: annoying neighbour.

this menace. he's so annoying! you've just moved in next door and now you know why you got your apartment for cheap... the guy next door is satan on earth. no wonder nobody stays for long.

he's really loud. he'll be up until the dead of night — three in the morning, playing his stupid games. yelling into his mic and it doesn't help that your bedroom is practically beside his and the walls are so damn thin.

you'd knock on his door — you made a mistake of only wearing booty shorts and a camisole — because he fucking whistles when he sees you, grinning. "what did i do to deserve this sight?" "turn it down, donghyuck."

...and he doesn't. he only gets louder, blasting michael jackson songs through his speaker. when you see him in the elevator next morning, he has the bloody audacity to ask, "terrible eyebags. slept late?"

he also steals your parcels. for absolutely no reason. he just takes them off your doorstep and holds onto them — doesn't even open them, just keeps them until you knock on his door and demands for them back.

(you find out after that they're just his excuses to see you, and talk to you.)

this annoying phase keeps up until you disappear for about a week, and he comes knocking on your door, practically banging on them until you open. you've never seen him so concerned — you've never seen him expressing anything but mischief, really — yet there he was, leaning against your doorframe. "are you okay? i haven't seen you in forever."

when you tell him you've been sick, haechan does the unthinkable — he brings you soup and medicine. fussing over you, making you lay down as he warms the soup and prepares the medicine.

"need you to feel better soon so that i can pester you."

haechan finally confesses one night when you're yelling at him, swears leaving past your lips as he stands there, unbothered.

"i bother you so much because i like you, idiot. quit calling me an idiot when frankly, you're the idiot."

#na jaemin: best friend's brother.

the boy next door, the smiley sweet nana, the neighbourhood's favourite — your best friend's brother, na jaemin.

it was innocent and childish at first. there was simply nobody hot or even close to your type in the neighbourhood. all the boys in high school were stinky. but not jaemin, your best friend's brother who's a grade above you. a stupid crush. everyone has one of those, right?

you first saw him when you went to aeri's house for the first time. jaemin was lounging on the couch, heels propped up against the leather material. lazily flicking the xbox console which angered jeno, earning him a slap on the back of his head. it's stupid, but it was the first time in your life to ever feel awestruck upon looking at somebody.

...and you ended up coming over almost daily ever since. loved it when he'd join yours and aeri's gossip sessions, laying on the bed and scrolling through his phone, making remarks here and there. driving you to the nearest convenience market at two in the morning just because you were craving for ice cream. jaemin was just always there, lingering.

when college came, you expected the stupid little crush to disappear — but the feelings only tugged on your hearstrings harder. it didn't help that jaemin never stopped coming around, driving four hours from busan to seoul just to bring aeri to you. the little headpats he gives whenever you tell them you've achieved something.

it was supposed to stay just a stupid crush on your stupidly hot best friend's brother. and then things take a turn when he takes you to your first frat party. aeri's somewhere in the house (you suspect she's making out with haechan) and you're left alone with jaemin. perhaps it's the moonlight making way for a romantic ambience, or the fact that it's just the two of you on the rooftop — but somehow, the two of you end up kissing. with your noses bumping and jaemin's tongue slipping into your mouth, he whispers something along the lines of, 'fuck, pretty. been waiting for so long for this.'

then came the sneaking around part. teling aeri would simply be too complicated (and scary, for you!) so during the sleepovers you'd have, you tried your best to stay awake, just to tip-toe out of aeri's room and watch a movie with your boyfriend. or eating leftovers together, praying to god the microwave won't be too loud, holding back giggles. occasionally, you'd make out in the back of jaemin's car, him repeating sweet nothings, "you're so pretty, fuck — so pretty."

but then aeri got tired of pretending she doesn't know one day, rolling her eyes and saying, "stop sneaking around already, god. you guys are ridiculous." jaemin's never been happier.

#zhong chenle: academic rivals to lovers.

you hate zhong chenle's guts. he knows that — hell, everybody in the faculty knows that.

the tension between you could be cut with a knife. the way that at every question asked by the professor, you're always racing to answer. putting up your hands as fast as you can, or wanting to have the best answer. constantly competing on who gets the better gpa after every finals.

you swear he's the worst winner too. flashing his graded paper, a 98% scribbled at the top, tongue in his cheek. "outdid you. think you can do better?" or when you sit behind him during an online quiz and a 99% pops up on the screen. he'd turn his screen to the brightest and zoom into the digits, knowing damn well you're watching.

the universe is truly against you when the faculty decides to send the two of you to an out of town competition. much to your dismay, you're forced to share a suite. it doesn't matter that there's separate bedrooms... to share a living space with chenle is absolutely awful.

to make things worse, the guests upstairs are atrociously loud when having sex. like... disgustingly loud, to the point you're up at three in the morning with a sulky chenle. left with no choice, you end up at a freaking convenience store, a half eaten onigiri in your hand and eyes that can barely open.

overcome by your sleepiness, you fail to notice things like, why the fuck does chenle know your favourite onigiri, or your preferred soda? you fail to register the way he's staring at your sleepy state, trying to hold in a smile.

"hey, you wanna make a bet?"

"what?"

chenle grins, "if i win the mathletic, you'll go out on a date with me. if you win... i'll leave the team."

that's when you realize that perhaps, chenle is so good at getting on your nerves only because he knows you so well.

#park jisung: fake dating to lovers.

jisung just wanted to prove to his friends that he's not a total loser. he swears he's not the type to get too affected over his friends' teasing, but it comes to a point. it's impossible to ignore jeno and haechan's constant teasings of, "jisung, you're a 20 something virgin!"

so jisung's left with no choice but to beg you, his best friend to fake date him. just to get the guys off his back. he comes to your house with your favourite snacks, all puppy eyed and frowny. quite literally gets on his knees and begs. "please, yn. just for a while. for like... three months. and then we can stop. please, i'll do your freaking laundry for five months."

and who are you to turn down free laundry service? it's only jisung... nothing's going to happen, right?

wrong. it's impossible to ignore the flutter in your heart everytime he does something boyfriend-like. how could you ignore the fast beating of your heart when he wraps an arm around your waist, bringing you into his embrace as you queue for coffee?

"the guys are watching, come kiss me on the cheek," he whispers, lips right beside your ears. you swallow the lump in your throat and kiss his cheek, trying your best to ignore the way your heart practically jumps out of your chest.

he's too good at the boyfriend thing too. posting random photos of you on his instagram, waiting for you outside your class with flowers he plucked off the campus garden, and the way he slips his big hand inside your back pocket.

you know the feelings you harbor are too deep when he kisses you. it wasn't supposed to be a big deal. jisung's first and last kiss was awkward, with a girl from elementary school under the slides. he wanted to kiss you for experience  — you really thought you could handle it, really. until jisung's lips grazes yours and you find yourself thinking about it for an entire week. how could he look so unaffected by that?

you couldn't be more wrong about that too. after the fake dating is over, jisung couldn't help but notice the way you're distancing yourself from him. no more random calls to gossip, or sleepovers, or the weekly yn jisung movie nights. it's empty without you, and nothing could truly fill in the empty gap you've left.

it's chenle who quite literally, slaps the sense into jisung. literally slaps. (part of it is to make jisung actually think, but also because he's always wanted to do that.)

just like how he begged you to fake date him, he waits outside your door  — chocolates in hands and a confession.