#jenosonlywife23

[jenosonlywife23]

Office Hours

This type of Doyoung gets me HOT, like sir have mercy on me. I def got freaky with this lmao.

Inspo from a fic I read along time ago, it was abt priest Doyoung and damn that man can get it, but I can't find it, I don't remember the name(it was on Wattpad) but anyway I'm spoiling y'all too much😔

The first time Professor Kim Doyoung saw you walk into his lecture hall, he nearly dropped his coffee.

Short skirt, regulation length—barely. White button-down strained across your chest, tie loosened like you had better things to do than follow dress code. Your lip gloss was too shiny. Your eyes too smug. You sat front row, legs crossed, gaze unblinking.

He knew then: you were trouble.

But God help him—he was a willing sinner.

Every week, you showed up early. Always with something new. A higher hemline. A lower voice. A question you definitely didn’t need help with.

“Professor,” you’d purr, sliding a notebook onto his desk. “Can I go over the chapter with you again? I just don’t quite… get it.”

You got it. You more than got it. You probably understood the theories better than half the class. But that wasn’t the point, was it?

The point was your fingers tracing the edge of the desk. The way your knees pressed together when you leaned forward. The look in your eyes that said go on, break first.

Doyoung clenched his jaw every time. Repeating things in his head like she’s your student. This is a Catholic university. Hell is real.

But you didn’t care. You thrived on the edge of it. You wanted to see how far you could push him before he snapped.

It happens on a Thursday.

You wait until after class—last one to leave, slow and smug, looking every bit the picture of sin wrapped in a schoolgirl skirt and a bite mark waiting to happen.

You close the door behind you. Click.

Doyoung doesn’t look up. “You need something?”

You tilt your head, voice low. “Mmm, thought I’d stay for… office hours.”

He finally glances up. And whatever thread of patience he had left? It burns to ash.

Because you’re not wearing a bra under your thin white shirt.

And you know it.

It’s not gentle. Not this time.

Your back hits the wall of his office, legs around his waist, books knocked from shelves. His mouth is everywhere—neck, collarbones, lips, biting just enough to leave marks hidden by uniform seams.

“You think you’re clever?” he growls against your skin. “Walking in here like this—”

“You finally noticed?” you smirk, voice breathy.

He grips your jaw. “You’ve been trying to get me fired.”

You grin wider. “Or fucked.”

The first thrust steals the air from your lungs.

You claw at his shirt. Moan like you’ve been starving for it. And maybe you have. Maybe this whole act was just your version of please touch me, please ruin me, please prove you’re not as good as you pretend to be.

And he does.

Desk creaking under your hips. His hand wrapped around your throat when you get too mouthy. Your pretty little tie used to shut you up when the sounds start echoing through the halls.

You’ll never forget a single thing he’s ever taught—because now, every theory, every concept is imprinted on your skin.

Marxism? That's the one where he bent you over the desk.

Existentialism? That was when he made you beg like nothing else mattered.

Structuralism? Baby, he restructured your guts.

By the time he finishes—twice—you’re dazed, panting, uniform rumpled, tie hanging loose around your neck like a trophy.

He helps you fix your collar. Adjust your skirt.

You smooth your lip gloss and wink. “So, Professor. Still think I don’t pay attention in class?”

Doyoung laughs under his breath, eyes sweeping over you like he already knows this won’t be the last time.

“Come early tomorrow,” he says, licking his thumb to fix the smudge on your cheek. “We’re starting a new unit.”

You smile sweetly. “Can’t wait to study.”

Saints preserve him,

he’s so going to hell.

And you’re going with him—front row seat, skirt still hitched.

He wouldn’t have it any other way.

[jenosonlywife23]

Dafuqqqqq!!!! He like he'd be called MINE teehee(terrible joke😔)

250201 JENO 💭

[anniebeckcalla]

ꕥ 𝗯𝗹𝗼𝗴 𝗿𝗲𝗰𝘀!

@viasdreams

@injvns

@cigsaftersuh

@mejaemin

@jenosonlywife23

@pjsteroid

@lisired [18+ ONLY]

@chenlezip

@haluenx

@completelyjae

@ricottasung

@lovinthewayuwannatalk

@wonswondrland

[back to navigation centre]

[minijaems]

Mark recs ; lmk 🦁

nct u — nct 127 — nct dream — navigation

last updated: 2025.FEB.21

a - angst // f - fluff // s - smut

series

(a, f) - ‘tis the damn season - @najaemism

oneshots

(s) - You belong to me - @jungcherie

(f, s) - Sunday Kind of Love - @smileysuh

(a, f) - unsaid feelings - @jaemrkist

(f) - a slice of watermelon - @theleemark

(a) - PAST OF MY FUTURE - @aehyei

(a, f) - 5 drinks to share with Mark - @daybreakx

(s) - BMW - @aehyei

(f) - 𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘 | 이민형 - @honeymark

(f, s) - drive me crazy - @angelwonie

(a, f, s) - reunion - @lattaeyongs

(f, s) - KISS U RIGHT NOW - @domjaehyun

(a, s) - “Try to stay quiet ok” + “It’s just us, everyone else has gone to bed” - @ncteez

(f) - Self-On Kode with Mark - @gyeomsweetgyeom

(f) - Mark takes care of you after you had too many drinks - @blbyena

(a, f) - Perfume - @jaelvr

(f, s) - yearning for you - @ch3rryd0ll

(f) - jealous coffee date - @blbyena

drabbles

(f) - Sunday Afternoons - @johnjaecity

(f) - Am I Your Lockscreen? - @yootaesowlwrites

(f) - KISS ME! - @neolovesneo

(f) - sleepy - @loving-jeno

(f) - "it was late at night and you and mark were cuddled up in bed together watching a movie" - @tigermark

(f) - Lazy Mornings and Endless Love - @jenosonlywife23

headcanons

(f, s) - mark’s decent into madness during no nut november !! - @viasdreams

(f) - bf! mark - @catboyieejeno

(f) - Rapper Boyfriend Texts - @pjsteroid

timestamps

(f, s) - [9:27pm] - @rosepetalmark

(f) - [16:54] - @hyucks-archive

nct u — nct 127 — nct dream — navigation

[jenosonlywife23]

Under the Influence (of You)

an; I miss jaehyun so much, and i remembered when youngji invited him to not much prepared. This drabble is inspired by that episode.

You had done the impossible before—held in laughter during live broadcasts, kept a straight face when a friend was clowning you in a group chat mid-interview, even successfully lied to your mom about where you were at 2 a.m. in high school. But this? This was an entirely different level of deception.

Jaehyun, your boyfriend of three years, fresh out of the military and glowing like he hadn’t just spent nearly two years in barracks, had an album out. The fans wanted him everywhere, and your show? They wanted him there the most. Comments flooded every post, every episode. Jaehyun on the show when??? He’s been on everything but this, what’s going on?! If you don’t invite him, I swear—

The problem? Nobody knew you were dating him. Not the fans, not the staff, not even your closest coworkers. Inviting Jaehyun to your show, a show infamous for getting idols tipsy and making them spill their deepest secrets, was like walking straight into a burning building with a bottle of soju in each hand.

So you did what any sane person would do. You stalled. "He’s busy with promo! He has schedules! Let’s give him time to adjust!" But the pressure didn’t let up, and when your producer started hinting at how great the ratings would be, you knew you were doomed.

"Just do it," Jaehyun had said when you finally caved and called him. "It’ll be fine. We’re professionals."

Professionals.

You nearly laughed in his face.

Instead, you called in reinforcements.

"So you’re finally breaking," Karina mused over the phone, amused. "You held out longer than I thought."

"I need strategies," you groaned, pacing your apartment. "What do I do? How do I not make it obvious? We have couple mannerisms, Karina. Mannerisms."

"First of all, don’t call them ‘couple mannerisms,’ that’s weird," she snorted. "Second, don’t look at him like he hung the stars in the sky."

"That’s just my face."

"Fix it."

Your next call was to Mark, because if anyone had experience being in a constant state of panic, it was him.

"Bro, if you slip up on that show, it’s over," he said seriously. "Like, game over. The fans will clip it, dissect it, and within ten minutes, they’ll have a thread with timestamps proving you’re soulmates."

"You’re so helpful, Mark."

"I mean, I could help you make a fake scandal to cover it up. Maybe you and Johnny should have an inside joke or something to throw them off?"

"You want me to make a fake ship to distract from my real relationship?"

"I’m just saying, it worked for me once."

You hung up on him.

In the end, after way too much deliberation, you agreed to invite Jaehyun on the show. The plan was simple—treat him like any other guest. No lingering touches, no secret glances, no laughing at jokes that weren’t actually funny just because he was the one saying them. It sounded easy enough.

But when the day arrived, and he walked onto the set with that lazy smirk, eyes locked on you like he knew exactly what he was doing, you realized something very, very important.

You were so screwed.

—

The cameras were rolling. The staff was excited. The fans were waiting.

And Jaehyun was already making your life difficult.

"Wow," he said as he sat down across from you, stretching like he had all the time in the world. "I finally made it."

"Oh, don’t act like I’ve been keeping you away," you shot back, keeping your tone playful. "You’ve been busy. And I—" you lifted the soju bottle pointedly "—value my job."

Laughter erupted from the staff. Good. Keep it light. Keep it normal.

Jaehyun chuckled, reaching for the glass you poured for him. "I feel like I should be nervous."

You smirked. "You should be."

The first few drinks went smoothly. You asked about his album, his time in the military, his adjustment back into idol life. He answered smoothly, charming as ever, throwing in a few anecdotes that had everyone in stitches. You were doing fine. Everything was under control.

Until the alcohol started kicking in.

Jaehyun’s gaze lingered a little too long when you refilled his glass. Your fingers brushed when you handed it to him. And then—

"You know," he mused, leaning back, "I thought you’d be meaner to me."

Your brain short-circuited. "Excuse me?"

"Like, I don’t know." He swirled his drink, a teasing glint in his eyes. "You usually like to bully your guests. I was expecting some tough love."

Oh, he was playing dangerous games. "Are you disappointed?"

"Not at all," he said smoothly. "It’s nice."

Too nice. Too obvious.

You kicked him under the table. His smirk widened.

Johnny, who had been invited as a surprise guest, arrived just in time to witness the moment and immediately looked into the camera like he was on The Office.

The fans were going to have a field day.

—

Things only got worse from there.

"So, Jaehyun," you said, steering the conversation back to neutral ground. "You had quite the career before enlisting. Was there anything you missed the most while you were away?"

Jaehyun hummed, tapping his fingers against his glass. "A few things, yeah."

"Care to share?"

He tilted his head slightly, eyes locked on yours. "I think I already have."

Your breath caught. No. No, no, no.

Johnny, the traitor, took a sip of his drink and muttered, "Wow, this is getting good."

You shot him a warning look before turning back to Jaehyun with a tight smile. "How about food? Was there a particular meal you missed?"

Jaehyun chuckled, clearly enjoying this. "There was this one dish I really missed. Someone used to make it for me all the time."

Oh, you were going to kill him.

The staff cooed. The fans were going to tear apart every single frame of this episode.

Desperate, you downed a shot and forced a laugh. "That’s sweet. Hopefully, you get to eat it again soon."

Jaehyun’s grin widened. "I think I will."

Johnny let out a full-bodied laugh and gave the camera another knowing look.

You were done for.

—

As soon as the shoot wrapped, you grabbed Jaehyun’s wrist and dragged him into your dressing room, shutting the door behind you.

"Are you insane?" you hissed, crossing your arms. "Do you want us to get caught?"

Jaehyun just grinned. "What, you didn’t like my answers?"

You groaned, throwing your head back. "You were this close to confessing on national television."

He stepped closer, hands gently resting on your waist. "But I didn’t."

You wanted to stay mad, but the warmth of his hands and the teasing glint in his eyes made it impossible. You sighed. "You’re impossible."

"And if you pull something like that again, you can forget about me cooking for you ever again." you muttered.

Jaehyun gasped dramatically. "You wouldn’t."

"Try me."

His pout was immediate. "You’re cruel."

[jenosonlywife23]

No Nut November Regrets

summary; nnn with jaehyun but he actually regrets it cause his about to enlist and his devasted cause he should have used those days to bang you up teehee!!!

a/n; Lets pretend he still hasnt enlisted lol.

-------------------------------------------------------

Jaehyun’s pacing your bedroom like a man possessed, muttering to himself with his hands in his hair.

"Are you okay?" you ask, half-laughing at his dramatic behavior. He’s been acting weird ever since he got home.

"No, I’m not okay," he blurts out, turning to face you with a look of absolute despair. "I’ve made a grave mistake."

You tilt your head, trying to stifle a smile. "What, did you lose a bet? Forgot your phone at the gym again?"

He stares at you like you’ve missed the point of life itself. "Worse. I wasted an entire month."

You blink, thoroughly confused. "A month on what? Your skincare routine? 'Cause, babe, you look amazing—"

He groans, cutting you off. "No Nut November."

There’s a beat of silence before you burst out laughing. "Oh my God, that’s what this is about? Are you serious?"

"I’m dead serious!" he exclaims, throwing his hands in the air. "Do you know how much time we could’ve spent—" He stops, rubbing the back of his neck as he tries to find the words.

"Spent...?" you prompt, clearly enjoying his struggle.

He sighs deeply, his ears turning red. "Banging," he finally mutters, avoiding your gaze.

You choke on your laughter, clutching your stomach. "Are you actually upset you didn’t? What happened to self-control, proving something to yourself, all that motivational crap you were preaching?"

"That was before I knew I was enlisting!" he practically yells, throwing himself onto the bed like a soap opera heroine. "I thought I had time. But now? Now I’ve got weeks—weeks, baby! And I just... I feel like I’ve betrayed us both."

You sit beside him, trying to hold back your laughter. "So, let me get this straight. You’re mad because you spent thirty days not having sex with me, and now you think you’ve wasted your youth?"

"Exactly!" He sits up, his expression so sincere it makes you want to both laugh and kiss him. "I thought I was doing something noble. But now all I can think about is how many times we could’ve—"

"Jaehyun!" you cut him off, cheeks burning.

"No, listen!" he insists, gripping your hands like he’s about to deliver the speech of a lifetime. "We could’ve been doing it every night, every morning, maybe even on lunch breaks. Do you know how much catching up we have to do now?"

You’re crying with laughter at this point, collapsing onto the bed. "You’re ridiculous."

He flops beside you, throwing an arm over his eyes dramatically. "Ridiculous and horny," he declares. "And I’ve got no time to fix it."

"Well," you say, leaning over him with a sly smile, "we’ve got tonight. Think you can make up for thirty days in one go?"

He peeks at you from under his arm, his eyes narrowing like he’s accepting a challenge. "Oh, sweetheart, you have no idea."

[jenosonlywife23]

Boyfriend!Jeno taking care of you!!!

It was one of those days when you just wanted to curl up in bed and stay there forever. The cramps were relentless, your energy was at an all-time low, and even the thought of moving felt unbearable. You’d texted Jeno earlier, letting him know you weren’t feeling great, and he’d promised to come over after practice.

Now, as you lay cocooned in blankets, trying to distract yourself with a drama, you heard the front door click open.

“Babe?” Jeno’s soft voice echoed through the apartment.

“In here,” you mumbled, your voice barely audible.

Moments later, Jeno appeared in the doorway, a bag in one hand and a worried expression on his face. He crossed the room in a few strides, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“How are you feeling?” he asked gently, brushing your hair back from your face.

“Like I’m being stabbed repeatedly,” you groaned, making him frown.

Without another word, he placed the bag on the bedside table and started pulling things out—your favorite snacks, a hot water bottle, painkillers, and even a small box of chocolates.

“I stopped by the store on the way here,” he said, his voice a mix of shy and proud. “I didn’t know what would help, so I got a bit of everything.”

You couldn’t help but smile despite the discomfort. “You didn’t have to do all this.”

“Of course I did,” he replied, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “You’re in pain, and I can’t just sit around doing nothing.”

He quickly filled the hot water bottle and slipped it under the blanket, resting it gently against your stomach. “Better?”

You nodded, the warmth already starting to ease some of the tension. “Thank you, Jeno.”

He grinned, but then his expression turned a little mischievous. “Also, I brought this.” He pulled out a tub of ice cream, holding it up like a trophy.

Your eyes lit up. “You’re the best.”

He chuckled, opening the tub and handing you a spoon. “I know. But I’ll be even better if I stay here and cuddle with you, right?”

You didn’t even have to answer; he was already climbing into bed beside you, careful not to jostle you too much. Once he was settled, you leaned against him, his arm wrapping securely around your shoulders.

“You’re so warm,” you murmured, snuggling closer.

“I’m your personal heater,” he teased, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

For the rest of the evening, Jeno stayed by your side, holding you, rubbing gentle circles on your back whenever the cramps got too intense, and even putting on silly videos to make you laugh.

“I hate seeing you like this,” he said softly at one point, his voice tinged with sadness.

“It’s not your fault,” you reassured him, intertwining your fingers with his. “You’re already making it so much better.”

His eyes softened, and he leaned in to kiss you—sweet and full of love. “Anything for you.”

[jenosonlywife23]

Pouting Rights

Sulky husband!Jeno

Request; This was such a cute request, hope you enjoy this🤭🩷✨

The moment you walked through the door, you knew something was wrong. Not wrong in a serious way—no, that would be too simple. This was Jeno wrong.

Which meant the air in the apartment was thick with the unmistakable scent of sulkiness.

You sighed, already bracing yourself as you kicked off your shoes. “Jeno?” you called, but there was no response. Instead, you found him in the living room, dramatically sprawled across the couch, arms crossed, lips pushed out in a deep pout that rivaled any of his usual soft, smiley expressions. His hoodie was pulled over his head, and his sweatpants were bundled around his legs like he’d been curled up for hours.

Ah. So this was the level of sulking you were dealing with today.

“Babe,” you tried again, stepping closer. “What’s wrong?”

A deep, betrayed sigh left his lips as he refused to look at you.

"You left me.”

You blinked. "I went to the store."

"For four hours."

"Jeno, it was one hour."

His brows furrowed, but he still refused to look at you. “Felt like four.”

You bit your lip to keep from laughing. Oh, this was serious. He had the deep pout going, the one where his bottom lip jutted out so much you could rest a teacup on it.

"You abandoned me,” he added, voice dropping into that soft, grumbly tone that made your heart squeeze. “I woke up, and you were gone."

You couldn’t help it—you giggled. That was the wrong move.

Jeno finally turned to you, eyes narrowing. "Oh, so it’s funny now?"

You bit your cheek, trying to keep a straight face. “No, no, of course not. It’s very serious.”

He scoffed, turning away again, but you caught the way his ears turned pink.

Alright, time to pull out the ultimate weapon.

You climbed onto the couch, settling next to him before practically draping yourself across his lap. He huffed but didn’t push you away, even as you nuzzled into his chest, pressing tiny kisses against his hoodie-covered shoulder.

"I missed you," you whispered.

Jeno exhaled sharply through his nose, but the weight of his arms settling around you told you he was caving.

“I got your favorite snacks,” you continued, peeking up at him. “And I was literally gone for an hour.”

He was quiet for a moment. Then, in a soft mumble:

"Felt like four."

You grinned. "Drama king."

His arms tightened around you, and after a moment, he finally let out a long sigh, burying his face in your hair. "You can’t just leave me alone like that," he muttered. "What if I wasted away? What if I turned into dust?"

You snorted. “Babe, you were gaming when I left.”

“Yeah, but it wasn’t the same.”

You pressed another kiss to his cheek. "Okay, okay. Next time, I'll wake you up before I leave."

Jeno hummed in satisfaction, holding you closer like he was soaking in every ounce of attention. “Good. I need at least five goodbye kisses before you go anywhere.”

You smiled, heart melting at how needy he was. “Five?”

“Minimum.”

You leaned in, pressing a lingering kiss to his lips. “Alright. But what about now? How many kisses do I owe you for making you wait so long?”

His pout finally disappeared, replaced by the smallest of smirks. “Hmm… at least twenty.”

You gasped dramatically. “Twenty? That’s outrageous!”

“Take it or leave it.”

You rolled your eyes, but the warmth in your chest was undeniable. “Fine. But only because you’re cute.”

Jeno grinned, his sulkiness completely forgotten as he tipped his head up expectantly.

And if you ended up giving him way more than twenty kisses? Well. That was your business.

[jenosonlywife23]

Hoodie-Tee

Lowkey got pissed while proofreading this hehe!!! Anyway Jeno is so cute teehee!!

The sun was shining brightly, the perfect weather for a picnic. A light breeze carried the laughter of your group as you all sat on a checkered blanket, snacks and drinks scattered everywhere. Jaemin was laying on his back, staring at the clouds. Haechan was cracking jokes, making everyone double over with laughter, while Chenle munched on a bag of chips, giving commentary on everything.

You were seated beside Jeno, comfortably leaning against him as you picked at some fruit. Things were perfect—until Arin shivered and caught Jeno’s attention.

“Are you cold?” Jeno asked, already shrugging off his hoodie before she could respond.

Your eyes narrowed slightly. Oh, really?

“I’m fine, but—”

“Here,” Jeno said, draping his hoodie over her shoulders.

“Thanks, Jeno,” Arin said with a smile that lingered a little too long for your liking.

Chenle, ever the observant one, glanced at you with raised eyebrows, his chewing slowing as if he were watching a drama unfold. You pursed your lips, trying to keep your composure. It wasn’t Arin’s fault, but it still stung. Jeno’s hoodies were your thing, something he always reserved for you.

He should know that.

When Jeno leaned toward you with a bright grin, holding up a strawberry like he was offering you a gift, you turned your head away.

“Not hungry,” you mumbled, folding your arms across your chest.

Jeno blinked, confused. “You sure? You love strawberries.”

“I’m sure.”

Haechan looked over, sensing the tension. “Uh-oh, trouble in paradise?” he teased.

“Shut up, Haechan,” you snapped, a little sharper than intended.

Jaemin finally sat up, rubbing his eyes like he’d just woken from a nap. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” you and Jeno said in unison, though your tone was far less convincing.

Chenle, still munching his chips, leaned closer to you and whispered, “You okay? You’re looking a little… stormy.”

“I’m fine,” you muttered, though your clenched jaw said otherwise.

Jeno reached for your hand, but you pulled it away, grabbing a drink instead. He frowned, his confusion growing by the second.

“What’s wrong?” he asked softly, leaning closer.

“Nothing,” you said, plastering on a fake smile. “I’m just peachy.”

Jeno tilted his head, his gaze searching yours. “Did I do something?”

Finally, a clue. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. “Nope. Not at all.”

Haechan snickered. “Bro, she’s mad at you.”

“I’m not mad!” you insisted, though your voice was a little too loud.

“Yeah, you’re not mad,” Chenle chimed in, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

Jeno looked between you and Arin, clearly trying to piece things together. When it finally clicked, his eyes widened. “Wait, are you upset because I gave her my hoodie?”

You stayed silent, sipping your drink aggressively.

“Babe…” Jeno started, but you cut him off.

“It’s fine, Jeno. It’s just a hoodie.”

“But—”

Before he could finish, you grabbed him by the wrist, yanked him toward you, and put him in a light headlock, your strength catching him off guard.

“My hoodie. My thing,” you muttered close to his ear, your voice low and sharp.

Jaemin burst out laughing, nearly toppling over. Haechan was cackling so hard he had to hold his stomach, while Chenle simply gave you a slow clap.

“Okay, okay! I get it!” Jeno said, his voice muffled as he tried to wiggle out of your hold. “You’re gonna mess up my hair!”

“Good,” you said, finally letting him go.

He turned to face you, his cheeks flushed and his hair slightly mussed. “I didn’t know it meant that much to you.”

“Well, now you do,” you said, crossing your arms.

Jeno reached for your hand again, this time gripping it firmly when you tried to pull away. “I’m sorry,” he said, his tone earnest. “I didn’t mean to make you upset. My hoodies are yours, okay? Only yours.”

“Damn right,” you muttered, though the corners of your lips twitched upward.

Arin, oblivious to the drama, returned the hoodie with a sheepish smile. “Thanks again, Jeno. I’m fine now.”

“Yeah, no problem,” Jeno said, though he didn’t even glance her way. His full attention was on you, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “Forgive me?”

You sighed, finally relenting. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

He grinned, leaning in to press a quick kiss to your cheek. “And you’re scary when you’re jealous.”

“You haven’t seen scary yet,” you teased, though you couldn’t hide the smile creeping onto your face.

As the group dissolved into more laughter, Chenle leaned over and whispered, “That was better than any K-drama.”

“Shut up, Chenle,” you said, though you couldn’t help but laugh along with him.

[jenosonlywife23]

Night routine complete.

The steam from the shower still hung heavy in the bathroom as you and Jeno stepped out, the faint hum of the exhaust fan filling the space. You both moved in sync—comfy, familiar—Jeno with his towel slung low around his waist, and you with yours wrapped snugly around your chest.

“Pass me the toner,” you said casually, twisting your hair into a towel while he reached for the bottle on the counter.

Jeno handed it to you, his own hair still damp and falling messily over his forehead. “You look like a little dumpling,” he teased, flicking the end of your towel as you applied the product.

“And you look like you forgot how to dress,” you shot back, glancing pointedly at the towel barely holding on at his hips.

“Give me a break, I’m air-drying,” he said with a smug grin, leaning against the counter to watch you. His abs flexed slightly with the movement, and you rolled your eyes, pretending not to notice.

“You’re impossible,” you muttered, turning back to the mirror.

Jeno smirked, “Why? Distracted?”

You shot him a look through the mirror. “No. Just cold.”

“Uh-huh,” he teased, stepping closer until he was right behind you, his chin resting on your damp shoulder. “Then let me warm you up.”

You gasped as his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest. “Jeno! Your hair is dripping on me!”

He chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to your bare shoulder before letting you go—though his hands lingered at your sides for a second too long. “Fine. But only because I don’t want you yelling at me for messing up your precious skincare routine.”

“Exactly,” you said with a satisfied grin, passing him his cleanser as you started applying yours.

Jeno groaned dramatically as he turned to the sink beside you, squeezing the product into his hands. “I don’t even know why I do this with you. I didn’t sign up for this life.”

“Yes, you did,” you quipped, watching him from the corner of your eye as he lathered his face, his brows furrowing in concentration. Somehow, he managed to make even cleansing his face look stupidly attractive.

“You make me weak, you know that?” he muttered, rinsing the foam off his face, the water dripping down his jawline in a way that made you pause mid-application.

“Don’t blame me for being irresistible,” you replied, turning back to the mirror as quickly as possible.

Jeno smirked, grabbing the toner bottle from your side of the counter. “This one’s next, right?”

“Yeah—wait, not that much!” you squeaked as he nearly poured half the bottle into his palm.

He looked down at his hands, eyes wide like a guilty puppy. “Oops?”

You sighed, taking his hands in yours and dabbing some of the excess toner onto your face. “You’re hopeless.”

Jeno grinned, letting you guide his hands to his own face next. “See? I knew you’d help me.”

It was impossible to stay annoyed when he looked at you like that—his dimpled smile softening the teasing edge in his voice. Once you finished applying moisturizer, Jeno scooped a little onto his finger and dabbed it on the tip of your nose, making you gasp.

“Lee Jeno!”

When you finished, you grabbed your clothes and padded into the bedroom, slipping into a pair of soft, loose shorts and a tank top—one that might’ve been yours but probably came from Jeno’s side of the closet.

When you emerged, Jeno had ditched the towel and thrown on his gray sweats, hanging low enough to remind you why you never let him walk around shirtless in public. He looked up from his phone, his gaze softening when he saw you.

“Cute,” he said, lips curling into a small smile as he sat back on the bed, ruffling his still-damp hair.

You climbed onto the mattress beside him, nudging him playfully. “You think everything I wear is cute.”

“That’s because it is,” he replied easily, leaning back on his elbows as he looked at you. “Especially when it’s mine.”

You snorted, tugging at the hem of the tank top. “Possession is nine-tenths of the law, babe. It’s mine now.”

Jeno grinned, shaking his head as he grabbed your waist, pulling you down beside him. The bed dipped as he tucked you into his side, his warm skin pressed against yours.

You shifted slightly, your gaze catching on the tiny mole under his eye—a feature you’d always found so endearing. Leaning in without a word, you pressed the gentlest kiss to it.

Jeno blinked, surprised, his cheeks tinting pink as he looked down at you. “What was that for?”

“Your mole,” you replied, brushing your thumb under his eye softly. “It’s cute. I had to.”

Jeno let out a soft laugh, his dimple appearing as his smile stretched wide. “You’re really something else, you know that?”

“And you love it,” you teased, resting your head on his shoulder.

“Yeah,” he murmured, pressing a quick kiss to your temple. “I really do.”

The two of you fell into a peaceful, comfortable silence—Jeno’s arm draped lazily around you, his steady breaths against your skin, and his soft smile lingering long after you’d both settled into the quiet of the night.

(requests??)

[jenosonlywife23]

My rockstar!!!

Got inspiration from @polarisjisung, i was def thinking abt 200 when writing this but i literally changed the meaning hehe!!! Bf!Mark x reader

The soft hum of the instrumental fills the studio as Mark leans back in his chair, headphones around his neck, and a proud grin lighting up his face. His phone is already in his hand, scrolling to your contact.

"Hey," he says when you pick up, his voice warm and inviting. "Can you come to the studio? I need your help with something."

You’re curious but don’t ask too many questions, knowing how Mark likes to surprise you. When you arrive, he’s standing by the door, his cap slightly tilted and his trademark oversized hoodie making him look impossibly cozy. But the way his eyes light up when he sees you? That’s the real showstopper.

"Perfect timing," he says, tugging you inside by your hand. "I just finished recording something, and I… I kinda wrote it with you in mind."

Your heart skips a beat as you watch him shuffle nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. He sits you down in his chair and hits play, the track filling the room. His smooth vocals pour out, the lyrics laced with subtle references to moments only you two share. It’s vulnerable, raw, and undeniably romantic.

"Mark…" you whisper, eyes welling up as the song ends.

But before you can say anything more, he’s crouched in front of you, his hands resting on your thighs. "I want you to be a part of it," he says softly. "Your voice. Some harmonies, maybe some adlibs? I think it’ll make it perfect."

"Me? On your track?" you stammer, already feeling your cheeks heat up.

"Yeah," he murmurs, leaning closer until his forehead brushes against yours. "It’s about you, for you. Makes sense, right?"

Soon, you’re standing at the mic, headphones snug over your ears as Mark adjusts the levels. "Relax," he says, stepping behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist. "Just sing like you do when it’s just us."

The intimacy of his closeness, his breath against your neck as he hums the melody in your ear, sends a shiver down your spine. You try not to lose focus, but it’s hard when his hands trace small circles on your hips.

"Mark," you say, laughing softly, "you’re distracting me."

"Am I?" he teases, planting a kiss just below your ear. "Guess you’ll have to sing faster, then."

You manage to record your parts, though not without plenty of playful interruptions from him. Once you’re done, he pulls you into his lap on the chair, replaying the track with your voice added in.

"Listen to that," he whispers, nuzzling into your neck. "We sound perfect together."

"That’s because you’re biased," you reply, but your heart swells at the pride in his eyes.

"Maybe," he admits, his hands wandering to your sides as he presses a kiss to your lips. "But it’s true. You’re my favorite duet partner, always."

[jenosonlywife23]

Across the World for You

request; Thanks anon for this request, i LOVE me some desparate jeno (✿◠‿◠). DAMN, I REALLY IM A SUCKA FOR JENO.

The breakup was supposed to be mutual.

It was supposed to make sense—Jeno was drowning in schedules, and she was across the world, chasing her own dreams. The time zones, the missed calls, the lonely nights… it all built up until the inevitable happened. They agreed to end it before the distance broke them completely.

But it didn’t work.

Weeks passed, and Jeno couldn’t escape her. She was in the songs he listened to, in the places they used to go together, in the way he absentmindedly reached for his phone only to remember there was no longer a 'good morning' text waiting for him. She was in the ache in his chest every time he saw a picture of her—smiling, glowing, looking like she was doing just fine without him.

He wasn’t fine. Not even close.

So, he did something reckless.

One moment, he was staring at her latest performance clip, replaying the way she moved, the way her voice wrapped around every note like it was meant to be heard by him alone. And the next? He was on a plane, crossing continents with nothing but a duffel bag and the desperate hope that she’d still want him.

When he finally stood outside her apartment, nerves clawed at his throat. What if she had moved on? What if she didn’t want to see him? What if—

Before he could spiral further, the door opened.

She stood there, eyes wide, breath caught in her throat as she took in the sight of him. Jeno, standing in front of her doorstep like a dream she hadn’t allowed herself to have. He looked exhausted, winded, like he had been running through storms just to get to her.

"Jeno…?"

His breath came out unsteady. "I tried to live without you," he admitted, voice raw with emotion. "I can’t. I don’t care how far you are, how busy we get. I just… I need you. Please."

She didn’t say anything at first. Just stared at him with too many emotions swimming in her eyes—shock, disbelief, longing. But then, her lips trembled, and before he could overthink, she was pulling him in, wrapping herself around him like she never wanted to let go.

Jeno exhaled sharply, arms locking around her, his grip desperate, almost painful. His fingers dug into the fabric of her hoodie, clinging to her like she might slip away if he didn’t hold tight enough.

“I hate you,” she whispered against his shoulder, voice cracking. “I hate you for leaving, for making me think I could actually live without you.”

His hand cupped the back of her head, threading into her hair as he pressed his face into her neck, inhaling deep, as if trying to remember the scent of home. "I'm sorry," he murmured, lips brushing her skin, his voice breaking against her pulse. "I swear, never again."

She pulled back just enough to look at him, her hands sliding up his chest, feeling the way his heart pounded beneath her touch. His eyes—God, those eyes—were glassy, filled with something raw and aching.

"Say it again," she breathed.

"Never again," Jeno promised, his thumb ghosting over her jaw, tilting her chin up. "I love you. And if I have to cross the world a hundred more times just to prove it, I will."

Her breath hitched, and then his lips were on hers.

It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t careful. It was everything they'd been holding back—weeks of longing, sleepless nights, every whispered "I miss you" that never made it past their pride. His hands roamed, desperate to memorize the shape of her again, to convince himself that this was real, that she was real.

And when she kissed him back just as fiercely, fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer until there was no space left between them, he knew.

She was his, just as much as he was hers.

No distance, no time, no circumstance would ever change that again.

[jenosonlywife23]

In Tune with You

Request; Hope you like it, anon. an; bf!Jaemin where he always makes sure to pay attention to your social battery during parties 🥹

The music thrums through the crowded living room, a steady bass that vibrates through your chest. Laughter spills from the kitchen, where Jaemin is effortlessly entertaining your friends, his smile widening as he cracks another joke. He looks so in his element—bright, happy, the life of the party.

And you love that.

So you don’t say anything when your shoulders start to sag, when the weight of the conversation around you starts to blur into background noise. You force a small smile as someone nudges you playfully, nodding along even though your energy is slowly draining with each passing minute. You can push through. Just a little longer.

Jaemin, standing a few feet away, doesn’t miss a thing.

He’s been stealing glances at you all night—watching the way your fingers curl just a little tighter around your cup, how your blinks have gotten slower, how you’re still smiling but it’s not quite reaching your eyes. He knows you too well. Knows you’re only hanging on because you want him to enjoy himself.

And god, if that doesn’t make his heart ache in the best way.

“Babe,” his voice is soft, cutting through the noise as he appears at your side, an easy arm slipping around your waist. “Wanna help me find something in the car?”

You blink up at him, confused. “What?”

“The car,” he repeats, tapping your nose lightly with his finger, an excuse of a grin on his lips. “I left something there. Come with me?”

You glance around. The party is still going strong, and part of you knows he doesn’t need you to go with him. But his eyes—warm, knowing—tell you everything.

So you let him lead you outside, the night air immediately cooling the heat of the crowded space behind you. Jaemin doesn’t take you to the car, though. He stops by the curb, lets you lean into him as he rubs slow circles into your back.

“You should’ve told me, dummy,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

You sigh, half in relief, half in embarrassment. “You were having fun. I didn’t want to—”

“I was having fun because you were there,” he cuts in, tilting your chin up so you’re looking at him. His smile softens. “You don’t have to push yourself for me. If you’re tired, we go. No questions.”

Your chest tightens, warmth unfurling under your ribs. He really is too good.

You wrap your arms around his waist, pressing your face into his chest. “You really did leave something in the car, huh?”

He laughs, a low, breathy sound as he hugs you closer. “Yeah. My patience.”

You swat at him, but he just grins, pressing another kiss to your temple before taking your hand. “C’mon. Let’s go home.”

And with Jaemin, home feels a lot less like a place and a lot more like him.

(will post a Jeno version later, maybe)

[jenosonlywife23]

Paint me in your colors

request;hiii can I request friends to lovers with jaemin idol au pls（＾ω＾） Hope you like this anon!!!

The world knew him as Na Jaemin, the idol. The sweet talker with the dazzling smile, the performer who made hearts race on stage. But to you, he was just Jaemin—your best friend, the boy who used to sneak into your apartment at midnight with takeout and stories from his never-ending schedule. The boy who, despite the flashing cameras and screaming fans, always came back to you.

Lately, though, things had shifted. The playful teasing, the lingering touches, the way his gaze felt heavier when he looked at you—it was different. And it scared you. Because Jaemin wasn’t just your best friend. He was the person you couldn’t lose.

“Are you even listening?” His voice cut through your thoughts, and you blinked, realizing you’d been staring at him for too long.

You were in his studio—his creative hideaway, a place far removed from the chaos of the industry. His latest project, a massive canvas propped against the wall, was a riot of colors. Swirls of red, blue, and gold covered the surface, but somehow, the real masterpiece stood in front of it, dressed in a simple hoodie and sweats, his hair still damp from practice.

“I was just... admiring the art,” you said quickly.

Jaemin smirked, setting his paintbrush down. “The canvas or me?”

You rolled your eyes, masking the way your heart hammered against your ribs. “Your ego is unbearable.”

“And yet you’re still here.” He took a step closer, and your breath caught. “Come on, help me with this.”

“Jaemin,” you groaned. “You know I can’t paint.”

He reached for your wrist, pulling you toward him with ease. “You don’t have to. Just—” He dipped his fingers into a tray of paint and, before you could react, swiped a streak of yellow across your forearm.

Your gasp was immediate. “Jaemin!”

“What?” He grinned. “Now you’re part of my art.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you muttered, but the warmth of his fingers still lingered where he’d touched you. And when he handed you a brush, his gaze expectant, daring, you found yourself giving in—like you always did.

You dipped the brush into blue and dragged a line across his cheek. “Now you’re part of mine.”

Jaemin froze, his smirk faltering just slightly. His eyes flickered down to your lips, then back up. And suddenly, the teasing energy between you shifted, like a thread pulled too tight.

You swallowed hard. “Jaem...”

His voice was softer now. “You know, I could have anyone paint with me, but I only ever want you here.”

Your heart clenched. “Jaemin, don’t.”

“Don’t what?” His fingers brushed yours, smudging paint between your hands. “Tell you the truth?”

You took a step back. “You’re an idol,” you said, the words heavy. “You have the world at your feet. I’m just... me.”

He let out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “You think any of that matters? Do you know what I do after every stage, every tour, every exhausting practice?” He took another step forward. “I come here. To you.”

Your breath hitched.

“You keep me sane,” he murmured. “You make me feel like Jaemin, not some idol everyone expects me to be.” His fingers tilted your chin up slightly. “I don’t care about the world. I just care about you.”

Everything inside you screamed to stop this. That loving an idol was a losing game. That one wrong move could ruin everything.

But then Jaemin smiled—soft, certain. Like he already knew.

And when he leaned in, you let yourself fall.

The kiss was slow, careful, like he was memorizing every second of it. His hands cupped your face, his touch warm despite the paint smearing between you. When you finally pulled apart, he rested his forehead against yours, laughter bubbling in his chest.

“So?” he murmured. “Ready to be my masterpiece?”

You smiled, your fingers tracing a smudge of color across his jaw.

“Only if you let me paint you back.”

And in that moment, with the world outside fading away, you realized—Jaemin had already painted himself into your heart long ago.

[jenosonlywife23]

We listen and we dont judge

(i dont know how to feel abt this one)

You’re lying flat on Jeno’s bed, staring at the ceiling, bored out of your mind. He’s been gaming for hours, muttering things like “Push mid” and “Bro, are you serious?” into his mic. You swear you’re two minutes away from turning into a fossil.

Then inspiration strikes. A devilish grin spreads across your face as you grab your phone and sneak into his gaming room.

He doesn’t even notice when you prop your phone up on his desk, positioning it to perfectly catch his side profile.

You hop onto the armrest of his chair, resting your chin on his shoulder. “Jeno.”

“Hmm?” he hums, still glued to his screen.

“Take a break and do this trend with me.”

He spares you a glance, eyebrows raised. “What trend?”

You clear your throat dramatically, lowering your voice. “We listen,” you say, full of gravitas, “and we don’t judge.”

He snorts. “Sounds fake, but okay. ”

You think for a second, then smirk. “I once stole my neighbor’s cat because I thought it liked me better than them.”

His head snaps toward you so fast you hear his neck crack. “What?!”

“WE LISTEN AND WE DON’T JUDGE!” you yell, clapping your hands for emphasis.

He shakes his head, laughing in disbelief. “Fine, fine. My turn.”

Without missing a beat, he says, “I used to practice kissing on my own reflection.”

Your jaw drops. “JENO!”

“What? I was like eight!” he protests, his ears turning pink.

“We listen,” you wheeze, barely able to get the words out through your laughter, “and we don’t judge!”

He narrows his eyes at you, clearly plotting. “Your turn.”

You grin. “I once pretended to faint in school just so I could get out of a math test.”

He stares at you, blinking. “And it worked?”

You nod smugly. “The nurse even called my mom. It was Oscar-worthy.”

Jeno bursts out laughing, slapping his knee. “You’re insane.”

“Your turn,” you prompt, leaning closer.

He pauses for dramatic effect, his lips twitching. “I accidentally called my teacher ‘Mom’ once, panicked, and doubled down by asking her what’s for dinner.”

You scream-laugh, almost falling off the armrest. “NO WAY!”

“She still brings it up every time she sees me,” he mutters, burying his face in his hands.

“We listen,” you gasp, wiping tears from your eyes, “and we don’t judge!”

Just as you’re catching your breath, Jeno frowns, his gaze shifting to your phone. “Wait. Are you recording this?”

You freeze, your hand instinctively flying to cover the screen. “Uh… no?”

The little red recording light gives you away.

“YAH!!” he yells, lunging for the phone.

You snatch it up and bolt out of the room, laughing like a maniac. “WE LISTEN AND WE DON’T JUDGE!”

Jeno’s laugh echoes behind you as he chases you through the apartment. “You’re deleting that video!”

“Over my dead body!”

It’s chaos, it’s messy, and it’s the funniest afternoon you’ve had in a while.

[jenosonlywife23]

"Dafuq"

Author's note: Got inspired by pple writing the dafuq "prank".

You sat on the floor beside Jeno, who was leaning back against the couch, lazily scrolling through his phone. Perfect timing.

“Jeno,” you said casually, “did you eat the last piece of cake, da fuq?”

His brows furrowed as he glanced at you. “Uh, no? What’s with the da fuq?”

You shrugged, keeping your face blank. “Just asking, da fuq. I was saving that piece, da fuq.”

His confusion deepened. “Okay, but why are you saying da fuq after everything, da fuq?”

You bit your cheek to hold back a laugh. “What do you mean, da fuq?”

Now he sat up straighter, fully invested. “I mean, why are you talking like this? Are you okay, da fuq?”

“I’m fine, da fuq,” you replied, as if he were the one acting strange.

His lips parted as if to argue, but then he stopped, blinking hard. “Wait, am I saying it now too? What’s happening, da fuq?”

That was it—you burst into uncontrollable laughter, rolling onto the carpet while Jeno stared at you, completely flustered.

“I hate you so much right now, da fuq,” he muttered, but his lips twitched, threatening to betray him as he tossed a couch pillow at your head.