WhimFae
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- NCT (Band) (26)
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Summary
"Mark." The man's voice was sweet, his head turning so that Mark could properly take him in. His hair was brown, a few shades darker than his skin, and was loosely permed. It curled around his ears and over his forehead just so. Purposeful. Angelic.
"Angel." Mark stammered breathlessly, as if the man had stolen it and whisked it away wickedly. His voice was rough and scratchy, its timbre reaching the man and making him smirk. "You're an angel."
—Mark has never been able to dream, something that has irked him since he was a child. But during a particularly bad case of art block, Mark has a dream about a man that leaves him helplessly obsessed.
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"I don't know!" Mark's breath hitched as Donghyuck's hand reached out to make contact with the decaying part of his wing. He quickly slapped Donghyuck's hand away. "I don't know what you want from me, but you did this. You touched my wings and you make me…" A heavy lump formed in his throat and he felt himself tense further. "I want you. In ways that aren't normal. In ways that I can't truly want."
"I don't understand how it's my fault that you find me attractive." Donghyuck's jaw tightened visibly and his eyes narrowed. "You're allowed to like people, aren't you? Or is that banned up here, too?"
"I can't want you the way that you make me want you."
Or; Mark Lee is a pure angel. He strives to be the best, to prove to everyone and himself that he is worthy of worshipping the Gods. Lee Donghyuck changes things.
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"Chenle?"
"That's a ghost." Jeno whimpered with fear behind him, his face pulled into an expression of discomfort.
The man, who had been staring at the corpse beside him, turned to look at Jisung and Jeno. He offered them a friendly smile. "Oh? You can see me?" He asked, his eyes shut in a cute curve and his hands coming up to rest on his lap. "Yeah, I'm Chenle." Jisung felt his vision black out.
Or; Jisung moves into a new apartment that he's certain is haunted. After making a twisted discovery, he meets Zhong Chenle—a ray of sunlight in ghost form.
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Mark somewhat wished that he could dislike it; that he could be bold enough to stand up to Jaemin and walk away. He would certainly be saving himself from potentially having a chunk bitten off of him. His legs were far too sore after walking as far as he had, however, and Jaemin's deceptive sweetness was letting warmth pool in his gut. "I think so." He responded in a less than intelligent manner. He was making himself easy prey, that was for sure and certain. "Could you do it again? The singing, I mean. I've heard a lot of songs but I suppose I have never listened to a real siren's song before." Jaemin's eyebrow raised quizically, which was fair. That probably wasn't one of the most common questions to be asked.
or; Mark, a music loving elf, gets lured in by Jaemin's siren song and becomes obsessed.
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Summary
Jaemin Na had a lot more to offer than just cheap blow jobs and meaningless kisses, but Jeno Lee was as greedy as he was foolish. He wanted to feel Jaemin's hands on him, feel the heat and passion of intimacy if only for a second. There was no part of him that wanted to stop and wonder whether they were just friends or whether one saw the other as more. If Jeno did stop to think about such a thing, he was one hundred percent certain that the answer would leave him sick.
or; Jeno gets cheated on and finds himself in the arms of the person who always picks him up after the fall: Jaemin.