#yanderenctdream

[atriza]

The Idol's Prize

Yandere Idol!Mark Lee x Reader

Summary: In a twisted arrangement by the company and his fellow members, NCT’s Mark Lee is gifted a new role for you—not as a manager or assistant, but as his personal possession.

Word Count: 1,250 words

Trigger Warnings:

Possessive/obsessive behavior: Depictions of controlling and obsessive tendencies.

Non-consensual physical contact: Persistent touch despite discomfort.

Forced proximity: Sharing a room and being subjected to Mark’s constant presence.

Emotional manipulation: Coercion disguised as love and care.

Themes of entrapment: Lack of agency in personal and professional life.

Please read cautiously.

The room was quieter than you expected for a dorm housing some of the most famous idols in the world. NCT’s dorm was spacious and pristine, yet there was an underlying tension in the air as you followed the manager down the hallway. Every step you took felt heavier than the last, the reality of your new role sinking in.

You’d heard whispers about this arrangement for weeks, but it still hadn’t prepared you for the announcement earlier today: you were being permanently reassigned to Mark Lee. Not as a manager. Not as an assistant. But as his.

The reasoning was simple, they’d said. Mark worked himself to the bone for the group and deserved a reward. And you—quiet, unobtrusive, and hand-selected by the company—fit the bill. The members had even approved of the idea, much to your surprise.

“Here we are,” the manager said, stopping in front of a door.

You blinked, startled. “This is… Mark’s room?”

“Yes,” he replied with a tight smile. “From now on, you’ll share this space. It’s important for you to be available to him at all times.”

Before you could protest, the door swung open, revealing Mark standing inside.

“Hey,” he said, his voice warm but laced with something you couldn’t quite place. His smile widened when he saw you. “You’re finally here.”

---

The first few days were overwhelming. Sharing a room with Mark was… an adjustment. He was always there, always watching, his eyes lingering on you whenever you moved. At first, it was subtle—a hand brushing against yours as you passed, a fleeting touch on your shoulder. But as the days went on, his touch became bolder.

“You’re tense,” he said one evening, his voice soft as he stood behind you. His hands landed on your shoulders, kneading gently. “You need to relax.”

“I’m fine,” you replied quickly, your heart racing.

He didn’t let go. “You work so hard for me. Let me take care of you for once.”

You didn’t have the courage to pull away, and Mark seemed to take your silence as consent. His hands slid down your arms, his touch lingering before he finally stepped back.

“You’re so soft,” he murmured, almost to himself. “Perfect.”

---

The members didn’t make things any easier.

“Looks like Mark’s finally happy,” Haechan teased one morning over breakfast. “You’ve been smiling a lot more lately.”

Mark shrugged, his arm casually draped over the back of your chair. “Why wouldn’t I? I’ve got everything I need right here.”

You stiffened, feeling the weight of his words. The other members exchanged knowing glances, some smirking while others avoided your gaze entirely.

“She’s good for you,” Taeyong said, his tone neutral but firm. “You seem… calmer.”

Mark’s grip on your shoulder tightened slightly, and you fought the urge to flinch.

---

Public outings were another challenge. Mark insisted on keeping you close, his hand always resting on the small of your back or your wrist. Fans began to notice, whispering among themselves whenever you appeared at events.

“Who is she?” they’d ask, their voices barely audible over the noise of the crowd.

“Why is Mark always with her?”

The rumors spread quickly, but the company did nothing to address them. If anything, they seemed content to let the speculation grow, as long as Mark stayed happy.

But you weren’t happy.

---

One night, as you lay in bed staring at the ceiling, Mark’s voice broke the silence.

“Are you cold?”

You glanced over at him, surprised. He was lying on his side, his head propped up on one hand as he looked at you.

“I’m fine,” you said, pulling the blanket tighter around yourself.

Mark frowned. “You don’t have to lie. Come here.”

Before you could respond, he reached out and pulled you toward him, wrapping his arms around you.

“Mark—”

“Shh,” he murmured, resting his chin on top of your head. “I just want to hold you. Is that so bad?”

His grip was firm but not painful, his body warm against yours. You lay there stiffly, unsure of how to react.

“You’re everything to me,” he whispered, his voice filled with an almost childlike vulnerability. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

The weight of his words pressed down on you, and you realized there was no escaping this. No escaping him.

---

As the weeks went on, Mark’s possessiveness grew. He rarely let you out of his sight, and when you did leave the dorms, he insisted on knowing exactly where you were and who you were with.

“You don’t need anyone else,” he said one evening as you sat together on the couch. His hand rested on your thigh, his thumb drawing slow circles on your skin. “I’m all you need.”

“Mark, this isn’t healthy,” you said, your voice trembling.

He looked at you, his eyes darkening. “Don’t say that. Don’t act like you don’t feel the same way.”

You swallowed hard, unsure of how to respond. Mark leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “You belong to me. They gave you to me. Don’t forget that.”

Tears pricked at your eyes, but you blinked them away, knowing that showing weakness would only make things worse.

---

The other members noticed the shift in your dynamic but said nothing. They’d made their peace with the arrangement, knowing that it kept Mark stable.

“You’re good for him,” Taeyong said one day as you stood in the kitchen. “He’s been through a lot, and you’re the only thing keeping him grounded.”

“What about me?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “Who’s going to keep me grounded?”

Taeyong didn’t have an answer.

---

That night, as you lay in bed, Mark pulled you into his arms once again. His touch was gentle, but his grip was unyielding, as if he were afraid you might disappear.

“I love you,” he murmured against your hair. “More than anything.”

You closed your eyes, trying to block out the sound of his voice, the weight of his presence. But no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t escape the truth: you were his, and there was no way out.

[fionafelicia]

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[atriza]

Under the Mistletoe

Yandere Mark Lee x Reader

Summary: A festive holiday turns dark as Mark’s obsessive love becomes suffocating. What begins as sweet gestures spirals into dangerous possessiveness, culminating in a chilling discovery—a severed head among Christmas gifts—revealing the horrifying lengths Mark will go to keep his partner by his side.

Word Count: 1,190 words.

Trigger Warning: This story contains themes of obsession, possessiveness, emotional manipulation, graphic violence, and murder, which may be disturbing to some readers.

Snow fell in soft waves outside the frosted windows of your shared apartment, casting the room in a dreamy, wintry glow. Mark had insisted on decorating early this year, transforming the space into a Christmas wonderland weeks before the holiday. Twinkling lights wrapped around every available surface, a massive tree dominated the living room, and the scent of cinnamon and vanilla lingered in the air from candles burning on every table.

It should have felt magical. Cozy. Perfect. But instead, you couldn’t shake the unease bubbling in your chest.

Mark hummed softly as he finished tying a red ribbon around a present under the tree, his face lit with concentration. You sat curled up on the couch, your hands wrapped around a mug of hot chocolate he had made for you. He always took care of you, sometimes to the point of suffocation.

You loved Mark—his sweet smile, the way his touch was always warm, the way he looked at you like you were the only person in the world. But lately, his love had grown overwhelming. Claustrophobic.

"Baby?" Mark’s soft voice broke through your thoughts.

You looked up to find him watching you, his dark eyes filled with concern. "You okay? You’ve been quiet."

"I’m fine," you said quickly, forcing a small smile.

He frowned, setting the gift aside and moving to sit beside you on the couch. His hand found yours, his fingers intertwining with yours like it was second nature. "You don’t have to lie to me," he murmured. "I can tell when something’s bothering you."

"It’s nothing," you assured him, squeezing his hand.

Mark studied you for a moment, his gaze so intense it made your heart race. Then he sighed, pulling you closer until your head rested against his shoulder. His other hand stroked your hair gently, soothing yet somehow possessive.

"You’ve been stressed," he said softly. "I don’t like seeing you like this."

You didn’t respond, not knowing how to explain the complicated tangle of emotions inside you. Mark loved you fiercely, obsessively, and while part of you reveled in his attention, another part of you felt trapped.

"I just want to make you happy," he continued, his voice almost a whisper. "Tell me what I can do to make it better. I’ll do anything for you, you know that."

"I know," you said, your voice barely audible.

Mark tilted your chin up, his lips brushing against your forehead in a tender kiss. "You mean everything to me," he murmured. "More than anything else in this world. I hope you realize that."

You nodded, your throat tight. His words were sweet, but the intensity behind them left you feeling on edge.

---

The evening passed quietly. Mark insisted on making dinner, guiding you to the table and pulling out your chair with a smile. He served your favorite dishes, pouring you a glass of wine before sitting beside you. The conversation flowed easily at first, but it wasn’t long before Mark’s questions grew more pointed.

"So, who was that guy you were talking to at work the other day?" he asked casually, though his tone was anything but.

Your stomach dropped. "What do you mean?"

"You know who I mean," Mark said, his smile still in place but his eyes sharp. "The one who keeps hanging around you. I saw him walk you to your car the other night."

"It’s just a coworker," you said quickly. "He was being polite."

Mark’s smile faded, replaced by a look of thinly veiled frustration. "I don’t like him," he said flatly.

"There’s nothing to like or dislike," you said, trying to keep your voice calm. "We barely talk."

Mark reached across the table, taking your hand in his. His grip was firm, almost too tight. "I just don’t want anyone getting the wrong idea," he said softly, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. "You’re mine, and I don’t like sharing."

"I’m not going anywhere, Mark," you said gently, though your voice wavered.

His eyes softened at your words, and he brought your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to your fingers. "I know," he murmured. "But I can’t help worrying. You’re too important to me."

---

After dinner, Mark led you back to the living room, pulling you onto the couch and wrapping you in his arms. He kissed the top of your head, murmuring sweet nothings as the fireplace crackled softly. For a moment, you allowed yourself to relax, letting the warmth of his embrace chase away the unease.

"I have a surprise for you," Mark said suddenly, his voice filled with excitement.

He got up, disappearing into the bedroom before returning with a large box wrapped in shimmering gold paper. He set it on the coffee table, his smile wide and boyish as he gestured for you to open it.

"Mark, you didn’t have to—"

"Of course I did," he interrupted. "It’s Christmas."

You hesitated before unwrapping the gift. Inside was a beautiful sweater, soft and luxurious, in your favorite color. You smiled despite yourself, running your fingers over the fabric.

"Do you like it?" Mark asked eagerly.

"It’s perfect," you said honestly.

"There’s more," he said, pulling another box from behind his back. This one was smaller, wrapped in red paper.

You opened it carefully, revealing a delicate necklace with a heart-shaped pendant. Inside the heart was a tiny photograph of the two of you, smiling and happy.

"It’s beautiful," you whispered.

Mark took the necklace and fastened it around your neck, his fingers brushing against your skin. "Now you’ll always have me close to your heart," he said softly.

Your throat tightened, the weight of his words settling heavily on your chest.

"And one last thing," Mark said, his tone darker now. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small envelope.

You opened it slowly, your hands shaking. Inside were photos—of your coworker. The first showed him walking to his car. The next showed him slumped on the ground, blood staining his shirt.

Your breath caught. "Mark… what did you do?"

Mark crouched in front of you, his hands resting on your knees. His expression was calm, almost tender, but his eyes burned with something unhinged.

"I took care of it," he said simply, sitting beside you and pulling you close. His grip was firm, unyielding. "He was getting too close to you. I couldn’t let that happen."

"Mark, this isn’t—"

"Love," he interrupted, his voice steady but intense. "I love you more than anything, and I’ll do whatever it takes to protect us."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you stared at him. Mark’s face softened as he reached for the largest gift box under the tree, setting it on the table in front of you.

"This," he whispered, his voice low and calm, "is my final gift."

Your hands trembled as you unwrapped it. Inside, surrounded by red tissue paper, was something that made your breath catch in your throat—a severed head. It was your coworker, his lifeless eyes staring up at you.

Mark’s arms wrapped around you from behind, his breath warm against your ear. "Now no one will ever come between us," he murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple.

As the snow fell outside and the fire crackled, you realized that Mark’s love wasn’t just suffocating—it was inescapable.

---

[atriza]

Bound by Devotion

Yandere Mark Lee x Reader

Summary: Mark Lee, once a sweet and caring friend, begins to reveal a dark obsession with you. His affection grows suffocating as he invades your privacy, tracks your movements, and isolates you from others.

Word Count: 1,060 words

Trigger Warnings

Obsession and stalking

Invasion of privacy

Psychological manipulation

Controlling behavior

Emotional and implied physical intimidation

Mark Lee was the definition of sweet and attentive. He always remembered the little things—your favorite coffee order, the songs you hummed absentmindedly, even the way you preferred your pens organized. At first, it was endearing. He made you feel special, like you were the center of his universe. But over time, his attention started to feel... different.

It began with the small things. Mark seemed to always know exactly where you were, even if you hadn’t told him. “Oh, you were at the library this morning, right?” he’d ask with that signature soft smile. When you questioned how he knew, he’d just laugh it off. “Lucky guess,” he’d say, but his eyes lingered on yours a beat too long.

Then came the texts—dozens of them throughout the day. What are you up to? Who are you with? When are you coming home? If you didn’t reply fast enough, his tone shifted ever so slightly: Are you ignoring me? Do you not care about me anymore? His messages were coated with sweetness, but you couldn’t ignore the underlying tension.

The breaking point came one evening after work. You were walking home when you noticed someone following you. Panic bubbled in your chest, but when you glanced over your shoulder, relief washed over you. It was Mark.

“Mark? What are you doing here?” you asked, clutching your bag.

His smile was soft, but there was a flicker of something unrecognizable in his eyes. “I just wanted to make sure you got home safely. You can never be too careful, you know?”

It seemed sweet—protective, even—until you realized he had no way of knowing your route home. You hadn’t told him.

“You didn’t have to—”

“Of course I did,” he interrupted, stepping closer. “I couldn’t forgive myself if something happened to you.”

---

The next morning, you found a note slipped under your door. The handwriting was neat and precise.

Stay away from him. You’re mine. ♥️

Your stomach dropped. Your mind raced to figure out who “him” was—your coworker? A friend? When you saw Mark later that day, he greeted you with his usual warm smile, but there was a possessiveness in his gaze that sent shivers down your spine.

“Is something wrong?” he asked, tilting his head.

“No,” you lied, hiding the note in your bag.

Mark’s expression softened. “Good. I don’t want you to worry about anything. I’ll take care of you.”

His words were comforting on the surface, but there was an unspoken weight to them. His grip on your shoulder lingered a moment too long.

---

Weeks passed, and Mark’s behavior grew more unsettling. You started noticing subtle changes in your environment. Your phone charger was unplugged when you hadn’t touched it. Items in your room were slightly out of place. And Mark always seemed to show up wherever you went, as though he’d memorized your schedule.

One evening, while scrolling through your phone, you noticed something chilling: your location sharing was turned on for Mark. You never remembered enabling it. Your heart pounded as you turned it off, but minutes later, a text from him popped up.

Why did you do that?

You froze.

A moment later, your phone rang. It was Mark. When you didn’t answer, he sent another text: We need to talk. I don’t like being ignored.

---

The confrontation came sooner than you expected. Mark showed up at your door that night, a bouquet of flowers in one hand and a soft smile on his face.

“I wanted to surprise you,” he said, stepping inside uninvited.

You tried to keep your voice steady. “Mark, this is too much. You’ve been... everywhere. I need some space.”

His smile faltered, and for the first time, his mask slipped. “Space?” he repeated, his voice low. “Why would you need space from me? Don’t you see how much I love you?”

You backed away, but he followed, closing the distance. “No one else can love you the way I do,” he said, his voice trembling with emotion. “They don’t deserve you. They don’t understand you like I do.”

“Mark, you’re scaring me,” you whispered, but he didn’t stop.

“I’m scaring you?” he asked, his tone shifting to something darker. “Do you know how scared I am? Scared that someone will take you away from me? Scared that you’ll leave me?” His hands gripped your shoulders, firm but not painful—yet.

You tried to pull away, but his grip tightened. “I’m not letting that happen,” he said, his voice softening into something almost tender. “I’ll protect you. Even if it means protecting you from yourself.”

---

As the days went on, you realized the depth of Mark’s obsession. He wasn’t just sweet or overprotective—he was watching, controlling, waiting. And no matter where you went, you couldn’t shake the feeling of his eyes on you.

There was no escaping Mark Lee’s love.

---